by George Demacopoulos | Ελληνικά | Русский | српски
In a seminal essay in 1990, the eminent scholar of early Christianity, Elizabeth Clark, demonstrated that Christianity grew rapidly, in large part, because women served as the community’s earliest financial benefactors—they were “Patrons not Priests.” According to Clark, female patronage was not only a matter of Christian piety, it was also a consequence of broader social and cultural changes for women in the Greco-Roman world. At precisely the same time that Roman society was restricting women from serving as patrons for civic events, a small but determined group of female aristocrats turned their patronage toward Christianity. And the rest, so to speak, is history.
I would like to suggest that there is a parallel sociological phenomenon in the Orthodox Church in the United States today. While women are still unable to become priests, they are increasingly becoming scholars of Christianity. And this is having a profound, positive impact on the Church. Continue reading
by Patricia Fann Bouteneff
Axia Women is a diverse new network by, for, and about Orthodox Women, in the service of Christ. Although we are launching it officially only now, the seeds of Axia were planted a few years ago.
One seed was a petition asking the fourteen Eastern Orthodox primates to make sure that women—who make up at least half the church—were appropriately represented at the Holy and Great Council in Crete. While we didn’t reach that goal (only six of the four hundred delegates were female), the petition itself was signed by some 2000 people in some 60 countries. It showed a diverse groundswell of women and men interested in a variety of representation and service. Not only did bishops and other clergy sign it, the Ecumenical Patriarch studied it carefully, then wrote me a personal letter in reply. His message explained the limitations of what could be addressed at that late stage in the Council’s planning, but also warmly encouraged ongoing efforts in this direction. The petition and its aftermath were important indicators that there is both potential for growth and receptivity for women’s work at all levels of church life. Continue reading
by Mariz Tadros
My last essay spoke about breaking the silence around the invisible women in the Orthodox Church experiencing spousal violence and how we need accountable theology to stop the promotion of the notion that domestic violence is a cross to bear—but that both are essential but insufficient measures of redress. Here I probe further: How do we change the institutional norms that allow clergy to use their spiritual powers to propagate ideas condoning domestic violence? How do we make our churches accountable for upholding dignity and compassion for all? How do we create internal mechanisms with authoritative impact so that, with time, there is zero tolerance among believers for any justification of domestic violence? Continue reading
by Carrie Frederick Frost
About a decade ago I found myself pregnant with triplets halfway through work on a PhD in theology at the University of Virginia. My husband and I had thought long and hard about having a third child, so the joke was on us when—to our total surprise—we learned at a routine ultrasound that I was carrying not just our third child, but also our fourth and fifth. One of my many reactions to this news was to write a book.
Admittedly, penning a work of incarnational theology many not be the typical reaction to a triplet pregnancy, but there’s really nothing typical about a triplet pregnancy. For me, even though I had been a mother of two for several years already, the prospect of a trifecta of infants raised the spiritual stakes of motherhood: I was deeply driven to know more about how motherhood was understood within the Orthodox Christian theological tradition. Continue reading