Top 20 Patristic books by Mike Aquilina

From The Way of the Fathers author, Mike Aquilina.

What Would Casey Kasem Do?
Wednesday May 10th 2006, 7:55 am
Filed under: Patristics

A visitor named Simon tells me that I should post my “top ten books on early Christianity…No, make that twenty!” Well, I could call him on a technicality because he never said “Simon says.” But I won’t, because I can’t resist his temptation. So I publish this list, with all the usual disclaimers: I do not, of course, endorse everything every author says in every one of these books; nor do I necessarily root for their favorite football teams. I, after all, am a Pittsburgher. Not all of these books are, strictly speaking, books on the Fathers. But these are the books whose scholarship on the Fathers has (in the words of my pre-teen kids) rocked my world.

1. The Spirit of Early Christian Thought by Robert Louis Wilken.

2. The Rise of Christianity: How the Obscure Jesus Movement Became the Dominant Religious Force in the Western World in a Few Centuries by Rodney Stark.

3. The Church of the Fathers by John Henry Newman.

4. The Spirituality of the New Testament and the Fathers by Louis Bouyer.

5. The Celebration of the Eucharist by Enrico Mazza.

6. In Procession Before the World: Martyrdom as Public Liturgy in Early Christianity by Robin Darling Young.

7. The Emergence of the Catholic Tradition (100-600), vol. 1 in The Christian Tradition by Jaroslav Pelikan.

8. Face to Face: Portraits of the Divine in Early Christianity by Robin Margaret Jensen.

9. The Christians as the Romans Saw Them by Robert Louis Wilken.

10. Mary and the Fathers of the Church: The Blessed Virgin Mary in Patristic Thought by Luigi Gambero.

11. An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine by John Henry Newman.

12. Easter in the Early Church: An Anthology of Jewish and Early Christian Texts by Raniero Cantalamessa.

13. Patrology (four volumes) by Johannes Quasten.

14. Fathers of the Church by Hubertus Drobner.

15. Early Christian Doctrines by J.N.D. Kelly.

16. The Theology of Jewish Christianity by Jean Danielou.

17. In the Shadow of the Temple: Jewish Influences on Early Christianity by Oskar Skarsaune.

18. Symbols of Church and Kingdom: A Study in Early Syriac Tradition by Robert Murray.

19. Letter and Spirit: From Written Text to Living Word in the Liturgy by Scott Hahn.

20. Four Witnesses: The Early Church in Her Own Words by Rod Bennett.

On the Shroud of Turin & The Resurrection

10 Reasons the Resurrection Really Happened

Christianity hinges on whether Jesus rose from the grave on the third day. Jeffrey Hart goes back to re-examine evidence—from the Shroud of Turin to the location of the nails at the Crucifixion.

Did the resurrection really happen? The empirical evidence is better than you may think.

This is important because Christianity requires much more in the way of belief than Islam or Judaism does.

Judaism requires belief in one God, honoring the history of the people as established in scripture (with considerable support from archaeology), and the law, beginning with the Ten Commandments set forth by Moses. Leviticus elaborates on the law at great length, and forms of Judaism differ on how much of the law elaborated there is to be observed.

Christianity asks much more. It requires belief that Jesus was crucified, died, was entombed, and rose from the dead on the third day. As Paul says in 1 Corinthians 15:

For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance; that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Peter, and then to the Twelve. After that, he appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers at the same time, most of whom are living, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles, and last of all he appeared to me...

And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith... Then those who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than are all men.

That lays it on the line. “If Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith.”

A number of things can be said about this passage. Since Paul was executed in Rome about 65 A.D., this is the earliest testimony we have regarding the alleged resurrection. The four Gospels provide much more, notably Luke 24:32. Second, Paul seems to know that the claims about the resurrection are difficult to believe. He cites 500 witnesses, “most of whom are still living.” That is, empirical evidence exists about what Paul says, and if Paul is lying, this can be established. Incidentally, Arthur Darby Nock, our foremost Paul scholar, thinks Paul (then Saul) very likely heard Jesus speak at the synagogue in Tarsus long before Saul’s famous conversion on the road to Damascus (in today’s Syria).

That Jesus rose on the third day remains very hard to believe. Not least is the fact that a body dead for that length of time would decay considerably and would have to be fully reconstituted in order to appear alive. So let us follow the scholar Ian Wilson to Turin and there walk to the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist and there to the circular, black Royal Chapel designed by Guarino Guarini. There behind iron grills in a locked chamber is a linen cloth known as the Shroud of Turin.

Ian Wilson is a well-informed scholar on regarding the facts regarding the Shroud of Turin, and in his 1979 book, The Shroud of Turin: The Burial Cloth of Jesus Christ (Doubleday), he brought together the evidence and the conclusions reached by many other experts in this field (“Sindonologists”). It seems to me, difficult to believe though it may be, that this ancient linen cloth is in fact the shroud Jesus was wrapped in before he was placed in the tomb. Here I will summarize the argument of Mr. Wilson’s book:

1. Pollen does not decay. And ancient pollen in the linen cloth indicates the origin of this linen cloth in Jerusalem and also traces its journey from Jerusalem from the Middle East through Europe. It is almost impossible that forgery could accomplish this. (David Hume: Call your office.)

2. The body was laid on the cloth and the remainder of the cloth folded over the body to produce front and back images of the man.

3. A startling fact: The image of the man on the Shroud turns out to be a photographic negative. When photographed it became a positive. Again, this seems to rule out an ancient forgery, that is, long before the invention of photography.

4. In most modern representations of the Crucifixion, the nails are shown as going through the palms. But as this image shows, the nails actually went through an aperture in the wrists. Had the nails gone through the palms, they would not have sustained body weight and would have torn through the flesh, the body falling from the cross. Execution required that the man die on the cross from lack of oxygen as he repeatedly tried to raise his body on the nails in order to breathe. Execution was slow.

5. Wounds on the back of the body indicate flogging by the Roman flagrum—metal weights attached to leather cords wielded by a wooden handle.

6. Had the image been painted on the cloth by a forger, the paint traces of the pigment would have remained on the surface. The color here penetrates the cloth evenly from one side to another. Note: In this, it is more like a scorch.

7. An objection: The Romans executed many men this way. Indeed, two criminals were executed that day along with Jesus. Could this shroud be that of another similarly executed man? It’s very unlikely. Crucifixion was disgraceful and an expression of contempt for the criminal. It is unlikely that the family or friends of a man of that sort would have wrapped his body in an expensive linen cloth—or that such a cloth would have been saved later on and made its way from the Middle East across Europe. Representations of Jesus in art reflect a knowledge of the Shroud by European artists.

8. Ian Wilson concludes that the image on the cloth is a “paranormal” phenomenon. That is, not made by hands. But how?

9. Speculation: The scorch might have been made by radioactivity attendant upon the resurrection. Whether or not it is pertinent, the Big Bang at the beginning of the universe produced measurable radiation that determines that the universe is about 13.7 billion years old. If the scorch on the Shroud is the result of radiation, it could have been radiation that reconstituted the dead body. But that is merely speculation.

10. Ian Wilson’s book appeared in 1978. In 1988, carbon 14 tests were conducted indicating a medieval date for the Shroud. But that result is controversial and almost certainly wrong, for reasons cited above. In fact, along its journey to Turin, the Shroud was in a church that was the scene of a fire, and that could have corrupted the carbon dating.

Jeffrey Hart is professor emeritus of English at Dartmouth College. He wrote for the National Review for more than three decades, where he was senior editor. He wrote speeches for Ronald Reagan while he was governor of California, and for Richard Nixon.

On Orthodox chant

Great piece on liturgical music, specifically Orthodox chant. Yes! The music is not sacred- it's the words! She gets it.

Here's a nice video.

BOB ABERNETHY, anchor: This weekend of Easter Sunday for Western Christians, we have a profile coming up of an inspiring Christian musician. We also have a “Belief and Practice” segment on chanting in Eastern Orthodox churches where this is Palm Sunday. Because of differing church calendars, Eastern Orthodox Easter— Pascha — is next week.

Our guide to Orthodox chanting was Emily Lowe, a member of the choir at the Holy Cross Antiochian Orthodox Church in Linthicum, Maryland. She told us not only about chanting, but also about her personal experience as a singer of the Eastern Orthodox conviction that worship brings change.

EMILY LOWE (Choir, Holy Cross Antiochian Orthodox Church, singing): Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit.

The Orthodox Church is unique in modern times, having a completely-sung liturgy. Everything is sung from the very beginning to the end.

In Orthodoxy, the music is not sacred. The words are sacred. The music is really meant to fit the text. So when we talk about heaven, the voice goes up. And when you talk about hell or Hades or sin, it goes down. For instance, (singing), “The company of the angels was amazed when they beheld the number among the dead.”

During the time of the Ottoman Empire, the Greek chants took on sort of a very Middle Eastern character and that’s when you hear this sort of dissonant, odd sounding things: (singing) Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, glory to thee oh God.” It sounds very foreign to western ears.

For instance, (singing) “rejoice o Bethany.” Rejoice O Bethany — it’s a beautiful hymn and it’s very dear to the heart of our Arabic parishioners — (singing) — “God came to thee; God came to thee.” That little flourish at the end, (singing “la la la la”), very unusual and very otherworldly sounding. And that’s kind of — that’s the impression that people get. They might hear 20 things when they walk into an Orthodox church. But that’s what they’re going to take away. They’re going to go, “Whoa, I remember that. That was really unusual.”

I converted about 12 years ago. I was 16. And my family converted together. It was initially my father’s decision. He said, “I think this is the place for us to be. This is where God’s calling us. And this is really the fullest expression of the Christian faith.”

One thing about Orthodoxy is that it really demands change — and expects change. It expects that you will grow spiritually, that you won’t just be the same person that you were the week before or the month before.

From a personal standpoint, I never had a very good voice before we became Orthodox. I believe that I found my voice in Orthodox music — that I didn’t have it in Protestant music or in secular music.

When people say, “Oh, you did such a wonderful job,” I feel like telling them it wasn’t me because it really wasn’t. It doesn’t feel like me when I chant. I’m thinking about God and expressing the words the best that I can.

Metropolitan Jonah on American Orthodoxy - a magnum opus

I haven't read the whole piece yet, but it appears to be quite comprehensive. A nice ecclesiology teaching moment, perhaps.

A Time of Crisis and Opportunity

His Beatitude, Metropolitan Jonah

--The following is a portion of the opening address of His Beatitude, Metropolitan Jonah to the OCA Metropolitan Council at their 2009 Spring Meeting, February 18, 2009


The past years have been a huge struggle and a time of cleansing and purgation, a true crisis in the sense of a time of judgment. The Orthodox Church in America has emerged from this crisis, realizing that much has to be changed and much has to be created anew in its internal structures. This is a time of immense opportunity. Not only did the inadequacies and sins of the past regimes create an impasse for the Church, and present it with horrific choices; but, these revealed the deeper structural flaws in the organization of the OCA that permitted and perhaps created the crisis to begin with. These include, but are not limited to, structures of accountability and delineation of responsibilities, which are not dealt with adequately in our current statute. This was complicated by a lack of appropriate leadership. As a result the central administrative organizations of the Church were thrown into disarray.

Most of the superficial problems have been dealt with, and a new administration is in place, new policies have been implemented to create structures of accountability, and there is new leadership. But the underlying issues of the inadequacies of our statute, and the confusion of responsibilities between the organs of our central organizations, constitute what our essential task is to address in the near future. There are also issues left over that are pressing, and we also need to address and resolve them, so that the Orthodox Church in America can move on and assume the responsibility of its mandate: to be the local indigenous autocephalous Orthodox Church in North America.

During our time of troubles, the national and international reputation of the OCA was severely compromised. Movement towards Orthodox unity in America was severely damaged, and the perception of the OCA as being a viable partner in any movement towards unity, or even a player, was compromised. Various other Churches expected our dissolution. But in the words of Mark Twain, "Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated!"

Coinciding with this slide there has been a descent into deeper and deeper parochialism, and with that, congregationalism. This "hunker down" mentality really constitutes a loss in the catholic breadth of the vision of our Church.

The breadth of vision is the key to our renewal. During the crisis, the leadership of the Church, Episcopal, clerical and lay, became completely consumed with the "next issue" to arise, the next revelation of wrongdoing, the next betrayal or failure of some leader. The vision of the Church was buried in gossip and scandal, people became demoralized and disillusioned, and God and his Providence were forgotten. What is important to remember is that while these things did happen, evil as they were, it is the pastoral effect that must be addressed as well as the issues themselves. It is a tragic thing to see someone in a position of great responsibility fall; it is a worse thing to judge and condemn them, and then fall into resentment towards the institution and community which itself was the victim. It becomes a self-perpetuating vicious circle. What suffered is the Church as Church, as people lost sight of the Church as the Body of Christ, and instead became focused on individual members and their sins and failings. The bishops are not the Church. The Central Administration is not the Church; nor is the MC, the AAC or any other organization.

Rather, we all constitute the Church, together, in Christ by the Spirit. We who are broken and sinful, dishonest and corrupt people. When we lose sight of our own sinfulness, and start blaming and judging others, we have lost our Christianity. If we want vengeance and retribution, we trample on Christ and the Gospel. We cut ourselves off from God and from one another in a great orgy of ego gratification. "Everyone loves a dirty little sex scandal." And scandals over money are not far behind. But does it not occur to us, as incensed as we are with self-righteous indignation, that all this is a distraction and temptation to betray Christ and betray ourselves as Christians? Temptation always presents this question: Will I act as a Christian, or not, in relation to this provocation?

If we have responsibility for the life of the Church, which we as the bishops and the Metropolitan Council as clerical and lay leaders do, we have to know about this stuff (Unfortunately!) in order to correct the problems. But if we allow ourselves to obsess about it, and especially in judgment and condemnation of others, we not only have forgotten our own sins and hypocrisy, but we will be blind to any constructive solution, any solution that is of God. Ultimately, all these problems came and were revealed as God's Providence for us. They revealed weaknesses that needed to be addressed, and an opportunity for us to address them.

We have to return to the vision of Christ, crucified and risen from the dead, present now, and coming again, that is at the very core of our life as the Church. To be an Orthodox Christian is to focus our lives on Jesus Christ, and to continue His ministry of love and reconciliation, the call to repentance and forgiveness. We are called to bear one anothers' burdens--the burden of one another--and so fulfill the Law of Christ. The Lord calls us to patience and longsuffering, always going by the way of humility and love. This vision of Christianity must be at the very heart of all our decisions and all our lives, as Christians, and especially as leaders of the Church.

Revisioning the Orthodox Church in America

We have an enormous opportunity, and responsibility, to re-vision the structure and life of the Orthodox Church in America. While the basic elements are outlined in the Tradition, especially the Canons of the Ecumenical Councils and the Fathers, there are other elements that we incorporate as 21st Century Americans. Those essential elements from the Tradition are the Holy Synod presided over by the Metropolitan, a diocesan structure, and the canonical heritage. Other values critical to us, and partly coming from the Russian Council of 1917, are the participation of lay and clerical members in decision making. The Strategic Planning process on which we are embarking is precisely the process we are using to re-vision the Church.

Ultimately, we need to rewrite the Statute. The structures that were put in place and incorporated in the Statute reflected the life of the Metropolia and its early transition to being the autocephalous Orthodox Church in America. When the Statute was written, the OCA consisted essentially of a single archdiocese, with three or four sub-dioceses, with bishops who were essentially auxiliaries. It was a fairly homogenous social and ethnic community located mainly in the "Rust Belt" between Chicago and New York, north of the Ohio River. Cultural ideas of egalitarianism, democracy and division of powers, as well as identity as a corporation, shaped the initial document. Transparency, accountability and "best practices" had not even entered the national debate.

The OCA has outgrown its previous structures. It has become a huge, diverse community stretching to every corner of the continent. It consists of 13 dioceses, each with its own life. It is largely a convert church, and has no social, ethnic or linguistic homogeneity--and is authentically local and indigenous, rather than an ethnic church. While culturally very North American (in its own diversity), the OCA can no longer be "one of the jurisdictions," but rather has to develop its internal structures to measure up to the challenge of being the Local Autocephalous Church, inclusive of the tremendous diversity of our continent, but also respecting the uniqueness of each community and its needs.

The Statue itself and the organizations it creates have become obsolete. The AAC not only has become huge and unwieldy, and cannot effectively make most decisions; but the real underlying problem is that it compromises the diocesan structure of the Church, treating the whole Church as a single archdiocese with parish representation. The MC was initially the archdiocesan council, advising the one bishop with full authority, the Metropolitan. The central administration performs all the statutory functions of the Metropolitan Council; and then we wonder why there is conflict. The crisis created a power vacuum, which the MC stepped in to fulfill--a power gap previously filled by the Chancellor. But nowhere in the Statute is the MC given any authority as an organ of accountability; BUT neither is anyone one else specifically. Nor does the MC perform the primary role defined in the Statute: as the main fiduciary, to raise the money to support the life and work of the church. Because the leadership was dysfunctional, the Holy Synod abrogated its authority, and retreated into their own dioceses; the central administration grew to immense proportions and power, and both the Holy Synod and the Metropolitan Council rubber stamped the decisions of the CA, and abrogated their responsibility. Et cetera.

And so, my dears," we have a mess. Not to even bring up any corruption.

So where do we start? First, we have to look at basic Orthodox ecclesiology. The Apostles invested the bishops with the leadership of the Church, through sacramental ordination. This is the principle of authority in the Church: sacramental responsibility. This sacramental responsibility is not only over what is "spiritual," but the entire life of the whole Church, in every aspect, because even how we use our money is spiritual and sacramental. There can be no dualism between the spiritual and the material.

The real underlying question is the issue of leadership--primatial, Episcopal and lay. We need to examine the nature of primacy: how the episcopacy relates to the local church, and the interrelationship of the local churches within their province, and hence, the role of the Metropolitan as Primate. Central to this, however, is the nature of that relationship of obedience: of the presbyters to the bishop, and the bishops to the Metropolitan. Primacy is constituted by accountability and authority, in a relationship of obedience. This is Christian leadership. All of this is, ultimately, defined in the ancient Canons, and rooted in the Scriptures.

Obey those who rule over you, and be submissive, for they watch out for your souls, as those who must give account. Let them do so with joy and not with grief, for that would be unprofitable for you. (Hebr. 13:17)

I believe that the starting place to understand all this is to understand authority and obedience as responsibility, rather than as "power." Any reduction to "power" is by definition, corruption. Accountability in relation to responsibility is a core element in obedience. Various areas of responsibility are given to the different offices and organs of the Church by the canons. The question is, how are they invested with responsibility and for what, and to whom they are accountable? Accountability is intimately linked with responsibility; the structures of accountability are built as structures of obedience. Then we have to look at the nature of the support of the whole structure: first, financially, with the flow of money and resources; then, the flow of responsibility and accountability in relation to the organs of advice and consensus.

Bishops and the Metropolitan

34. The bishops of every nation must acknowledge him who is first among them and account to him as their head, and do nothing of consequence without his consent. But each may do those things only which concerns his own parish [diocese] and the country places which belong to it. But neither let him, who is the first, do anything without the consent of all, for so there will be unanimity, and God will be glorified through the Lord in the Holy Spirit. (Apostolic Canon 34)

The basic unit of the Church is the diocese: the bishop surrounded by the presbyters, deacons and faithful. The bishop has responsibility for the whole body, and sacramentally recapitulates it, and all ministries flow from the bishop. This is the literal meaning of "hierarch"--the "source of all priesthood." The presbyters and deacons, in particular, as well as all the faithful, are in a relationship of obedience to the bishop, and accountable to him for their service within the Church. The bishop has a double accountability: to the clergy and laity of his diocese; but also to the Synod which elected him and its head.

The Synod of bishops of a nation is the "Local Church." They bear responsibility for the oversight of all the churches in their care. They have the responsibility to elect and install new bishops where there is a vacancy or need. They are the point of accountability for each other. They elect as president of their Synod the bishop of the metropolis or "mother city," as Metropolitan Archbishop.

The Metropolitan bears the responsibility to maintain unanimity and consensus among the bishops in all matters affecting the life of the Church as a whole, and is the point of accountability for the bishops; while he in turn is accountable to them. This is a relationship of obedience, accountability in mutual love and respect, for the responsibilities given. The Metropolitan has the responsibility to relate his Local Church to the other Local Churches, and maintain unity and communion. This "ecumenical level" is the highest level of accountability, as it is the final court of appeal. The Metropolitan is a diocesan bishop, as are all the others. Thus all the bishops of the Synod bear an equal responsibility, as well as an equal ordination. The one thing that distinguishes the ministry of the Metropolitan is his primacy: his responsibility to be the point of accountability, with the other bishops in a relationship of obedience. There is no "super-bishop" or ordination over that of bishop.

Regional Council of Antioch: 9. The presiding Bishop in a metropolis must be recognized by the Bishops belonging to each province (or eparchy), and undertake the cure of the entire province, because of the fact that all who have any kind of business to attend to are wont to come from all quarters to the metropolis. Hence it has seemed best to let him have precedence in respect of honor, and to let the rest of the Bishops do nothing extraordinary without him, in accordance with the ancient Canon of the Fathers which has been prevailing, or only those things which are imposed upon the parish of each one of them and upon the territories under it. For each Bishop shall have authority over his own parish, to govern in accordance with the reverence imposed upon each, and to make provision regarding all the territory belonging to his city, as also to ordain Presbyters and Deacons, and to dispose of details with judgment, but to attempt nothing further without the concurrence of the Bishop of the Metropolis; nor shall he himself, without the consent and approval of the rest. (p.228)

There is a fundamental difference in primacy between a diocese and a synod. In a diocese there is a distinct difference in responsibility and structure of accountability because the levels of ordained responsibility are unequal. In a diocese, the bishop presides by virtue of his ordination, and all the clergy and people are accountable to him for their stewardship; as well as he to them for his leadership. In the Synod, it is a community of equals, all bishops, though the Metropolitan has primacy.

The Metropolitan's ministry is to hold the bishops to accountability in a structure of obedience that is by its very nature love and respect, unanimity and synergy. The Metropolitan's leadership arises through building consensus, rather than authority over the other bishops. Decisions are communal, by consensus; and the Metropolitan cannot act alone. As a bishop sacramentally recapitulates his diocese, so also does the Metropolitan recapitulates the Synod, personifying it and speaking for it. The Metropolitan cannot intervene in the affairs of another diocese, unless there is a canonical issue; then that intervention is his responsibility on behalf of the Synod. A diocesan bishop is accountable to the Synod for his stewardship of the diocese, because he is given that responsibility by them in election and ordination in a relationship of obedience. That structure of accountability is personified in the relationship of obedience to the Metropolitan.

A bishop's authority comes from his responsibility for his own diocese; the metropolitan's authority is within the Synod. The parishes relate to their own bishop, as their point of accountability in obedience. The bishops relate to one another in the Synod as the structure of accountability in obedience to the Metropolitan. But, the Metropolitan, as metropolitan, has no relationship to either the parishes or the clergy directly, other than those in his own diocese. This is very important, especially in regards to the flow of resources.

The Metropolitan's responsibilities, as primate, are in maintaining unity among the bishops of his Synod, and resolving whatever decisions need to be made on a Synodal level, and whatever issues directly affect the whole Church. The primacy also demands that the Metropolitan relate his Synod to the other Local Churches, maintaining recognition, contact, and communion. This would include, in our contemporary situation, relations with other jurisdictions in America, as well as with the other Autocephalous Churches. Thus, all matters related to the transfer of clergy between Churches, jurisdictional disputes, and so forth, are the purview of the Metropolitan. It is also within his purview to convene the Synod, councils and church-wide conferences; oversee church-wide ministries such as theological education; and oversee economic matters such as tax status, legal matters and insurance which affect the whole Church. The Metropolitan oversees matters dealing with bishops, including election, placement, accusations, investigations, transfers, and canonical actions.

Administration

The bishop is entrusted with responsibility for every aspect of the life of the Church, including full authority over the material goods and finances of the Church.

Apostolic Canon 41. We ordain that the bishop have authority over the goods of the Church, for if he is to be entrusted with the precious souls of men, much more are temporal possessions to be entrusted to him. He is therefore to administer them all of his own authority, and supply those who need, through the presbyters and deacons, in the fear of God, and with all reverence. He may also, if need be, take what is required for his own necessary wants, and for the brethren to whom he has to show hospitality, so that he may not be in any want. For the law of God has ordained, that they who wait at the altar should be maintained at the altar's expense. Neither does any soldier bear arms against an enemy at his own cost.

As this reflects the practice of the 4th Century and before, the later canons bring up the practice of a steward or economos, essentially chancellor or treasurer, to assist in the management of the affairs of the diocese. This is the beginning of diocesan administration other than through cathedral deacons and presbyters.

Chalcedon:26. Since in some churches, as we have been informed, the Bishops are administering the ecclesiastical affairs with the services of a Steward, it has seemed most reasonable and right that each and every church that has a Bishop should also have a Steward selected from its own Clergy to manage the ecclesiastical affairs of that particular church in accordance with the views and ideas of its own Bishop, so as to provide against the administration of the church being unwitnessed, so as to prevent the property of the same church from being wasted as a result of such stewardless administration and to prevent any obloquy from attaching itself to holy orders. (p.84)

In the Orthodox Church, according to the Canons, all responsibility rests ultimately on the bishops: spiritual as well as financial and organizational. They may and should designate people to handle such affairs, both for the sake of ability to administer and to guard the reputation and integrity of the bishop. This is where we can begin to see the foundation of the central and diocesan administrations, as well as the Metropolitan Council.

Vision for Today and the Future

The OCA is the heir of this ancient tradition, and structures its life accordingly. However, over the past decades, this system broke down to some extent because of personalities involved, and to a great extent because it went out of balance. The dioceses, to a great extent, did not take on the full responsibility for their own lives, and the Metropolitan and his staff took on the role of an archdiocese--or rather, continued it according to the existing statute. In the meantime the life of the Church grew and developed, dioceses were formed that assumed responsibility over their own lives--"sovereignty."

What we need now is for the dioceses to develop fully, and each to take on responsibility for itself. Each diocese needs to develop its own programs, funding, and missionary outreach. At the same time, the Metropolitan's Office must focus on the things that are in its purview, and leave the dioceses to handle their own business. Clergy matters, internal OCA transfers, local ministries, youth programs, development of missions, charitable and evangelistic outreach are all the responsibilities of each diocese and its bishop.

The Metropolitan's Office has the responsibility to take care of the administrative tasks that affect the whole church. The Office of the Metropolitan, perhaps a better name than "central administration," is called focus on coordinating diocesan programs for ministries, as well as the intra- and inter-Orthodox relations that are necessary, and develop programs that benefit the whole Church. This requires a staff, as prescribed by the Statute. How large a staff is a different question. Clearly the 37 people on staff, more employees than all the dioceses put together, and a bigger budget than all the dioceses put together, was excessive. How large that staff should be also depends on how much the dioceses are ready to assume their responsibilities. This is not possible until the dioceses are adequately funded.

Another element is the place of the All American Council. The All American Council, as a legislative body per the 1971 Statute, does not work. The AAC does not reflect the diocesan structure of the Church. It treats the whole OCA as a single archdiocese, with one bishop. This is simply not the reality. While the value of lay participation in decision making is almost universally accepted, the scope of the council is too large to allow for meaningful discussion, especially as it effects the life of each particular diocese. The council allows for no contact or discussion, much less constant interaction, of the bishop with the delegates from his diocese. But especially problematic is the fact that the Council treats each parish as belonging to the greater OCA, rather than its own diocese. As a result of this unwieldiness, the Metropolitan Council has taken on the legislative function of the AAC.

The Metropolitan Council is structured like a board of trustees, according to the laws of New York State, where the OCA is incorporated. There are two issues here: the administration in the Metropolitan's Office performs most of the statutory responsibilities of the MC, while others are done by both. Many of these functions, book- and record keeping and coordination, can only be done by a standing administration. The main fiduciary responsibility is in fact given to the Metropolitan Council by the Statute, both for budget as well as for raising funds and supporting the work of the whole Church. Even this was taken over by the Central Administration of old, by a Development Office. The Metropolitan Council needs to turn its attention and considerable talent to the challenge of raising financial support for the Church. There are two elements in this: a development function for donations, trusts, bequests and so forth; and a church-wide rethinking of support, based on the principles of percentage giving or tithing. More later on this.

The second structural issue, however, is more problematic. The laws for religious corporations pertain primarily to parishes, and not to the structure of a synodal Church. On the parish and diocesan levels, the rector and the bishop have full responsibility and accountability for use of resources, and the bishop in particular canonically. In a parish, the Parish Council, led by the priest, has the responsibility to manage the financial and material resources of the parish; in a diocese, the Diocesan Council, led by the bishop. As long as the presiding clergyman is the president of the Council, there is no problem: the Council has the responsibility to assist the priest or bishop in the administration of the material resources as trustees.

The Synod, however, and the Office of the Metropolitan as the organizational recapitulation of the Synod, is different. While the MC started out as an archdiocesan council, with the above function, as the Church has grown into a fully functioning Synodal structure, the structure of the MC has to change. It is the bishops who bear the primary fiduciary responsibility for the Church according to the Canons. The MC shares that responsibility, but on a different level. The Metropolitan and Synod have to approve or can veto decisions of the MC; the Metropolitan cannot veto decisions of the Synod.

This can be resolved in that it must be made clear in the new Statute that the bishops, collectively as the Synod, bear the main responsibility and accountability for the material resources, as well as the spiritual life, of the Church. The MC executes their decisions, and administers the resources of the Church, providing for its maintenance and ministries; but it does not have the same level of accountability as the Synod itself, nor can it make decisions independently of the Synod and/or Metropolitan--which is already clear in the existing statute.

The Conciliar Structures of the Orthodox Church in America

A Time of Crisis and Opportunity: Part II


His Beatitude, Metropolitan Jonah


The Mission of the Autocephalous Orthodox Church in America, as the local Body of Christ (for/on) the North American Continent, is to be faithful in preaching the fullness of the Gospel of the Kingdom to all peoples of North America in fulfillment of the great commission of Jesus Christ to "Go into all the world and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all [things that He has] commanded": so that all may be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth, that all may become communicants of the Orthodox Church, that Christ's way of sanctification, theosis and eternal life may be revealed to all. --His Eminence, Archbishop Job of Chicago and the Midwest


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The Calling of the Orthodox Church in America: Go into all the world and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the Name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things I have commanded you.

* Mission/Identity: We are the presence of the fullness of the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church, incarnate as the Local, Indigenous Territorial Orthodox Church in North America, embracing all Orthodox Christians regardless of any ethnic, linguistic or cultural distinctions. We are essentially a missionary Church, striving to bring the full integrity of the Gospel of Christ to all the people of North America, so that they may come to the unity of the Orthodox Faith and communion of the Holy Spirit, in the One Body of Christ.

* Core Values:
o The Gospel of Jesus Christ
o Missionary
o Diverse & inclusive
o Multi-cultural
o Multi-ethnic
o Multi-lingual
o Non-Colonial
o Non-Diaspora
o Ascetic
o Monastic
o Sanctity


There were a number of issues raised in response to the previous Address to the Metropolitan Council of February, 2009. These include:

1. Fear of exclusion of lay and clergy from decision making, conciliarity
2. This is a "power grab" by the hierarchy
3. What happens when the Metropolitan abrogates his responsibility?
4. The future and role of the Metropolitan Council
5. The future and role of the All American Council.
6. How do we know that anything has really changed? With the OCA in general, and the Holy Synod?

It is clear that we need to change the culture of the OCA. We need not only to change how things are done and attitudes and values. Rather, we need to change the culture and structure of the organization so that the established flow of relationships and information grows and expands. I believe that we need to do this so that we can further develop the life of the whole Church, and facilitate participation by more and more members of the Church in the process of real conciliarity.

There is a very damaging false notion that the lay people are separate from the clergy, and that the clergy are different from the laity. This is not the case! The clergy are simply those laity invested with a particular scope of responsibility by the whole Church, in a structure of accountability. In particular, the presbyters and deacons are accountable to the bishop for their stewardship of the life of the parishes. However, all members share responsibility for the Body, but have differing levels of accountability. The priests and bishops are accountable for each member of the Body by their ordination. Each member is important. Each member has a voice, and must be heard.

There are two related attitudes that constitute baggage from the past, temptations which have afflicted the Church and distorted its life and indeed, its conciliarity. Both stem from an abrogation of responsibility. Clericalism comes from an abrogation of responsibility by the laity for the affairs of the church, with the clergy taking over all functions; even the loss of the traditional ministerial role of the diaconate and pastoral role of the episcopate, with the concentration of all "ministry" in the presbyters, is a kind of clericalism . Trusteeism comes from a refusal of the clergy to accept their responsibility for the more mundane aspects of the life of the Church, which was then seized upon by lay leaders. This resulted in the priests being responsible for what happens in the altar; the parish council for everything else in the church. Both result from a breakdown of conciliarity, in which the integrity of each area of responsibility in a structure of accountability is critical. Conciliarity can be partially defined as shared responsibility with distinct levels of accountability. In both reductions, authority becomes identified with power; there is tremendous resentment and mistrust of the others by the persons disenfranchised. Both the clergy and laity need to recognize their areas of responsibility, and support one another in the exercise of that authority. The rector of a parish, or the bishop of a diocese, has complete responsibility for every aspect of the life of the community under his care, liturgical, spiritually, financial, legal, and administrative. But he cannot do it alone; it has to be done in cooperation with the laity, who are empowered with responsibility for certain areas by delegation.

The image used by St Paul of the body is very valuable in approaching this: the eye is not the foot, which is not the hand; there are parts more or less presentable, more or less private. Yet it takes all the parts working together, doing what they are supposed to be doing, and all have to be united to the Head, to Jesus Christ, the real Leader of the Church.

Conciliarity does not mean democracy. Its Russian root concept, Sobornost, refers to both conciliar structure (councils) and catholicity--wholeness or integrity. That can only happen when each element of the conciliar structure has integrity of its own life and ministry, and each is working in the proper order to build up the whole. Each area of responsibility has to be functioning for it to participate in the whole. Thus the bishops have to take full responsibility and be accountable to one another and to the Metropolitan, as well as to the Body, for their stewardship of their diocese or area of responsibility. The Metropolitan has to accept full responsibility to maintain the unity of the whole, both of his Synod and of the Synod with the other Churches. The Metropolitan has to be accountable to the Synod for his stewardship of the office. Each order or function of the Church, the diocesan councils, Metropolitan Council, and the periodic All American Council, must be accountable to the structures above it in responsibility: the Diocesan Council to their Diocesan Bishop; the Metropolitan Council and Synod to the Metropolitan, and Metropolitan to them.

For some people, "obedience" is a scary word, because it has been much abused. But the word "obedience" is integral to the life of the Church, and to the Gospel. Jesus was exalted above all others because of his obedience (Phil 2:5-11): "Have this mind in you, which was also in Christ Jesus, who emptied himself,... humbled himself... and was obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." The same passage is read for many feasts of the Theotokos, extol her for her obedience. "Be it unto me according to your word" is the ultimate expression of free, voluntary obedience in love. Obedience is not about power and control; it is about communion, synergy, and a voluntary assent to cooperation. If it is about power, coercion and the like, it is distorted. Jesus is the ultimate example of obedience; wives are called to be obedient to their husbands; and we are all called to submit to one another and be obedient in love to those who have to give account for us (Hebr 13). In a diocese, the priests are in a relationship of obedience to the bishop, similar to the monks to the abbot in a monastery. The bishops are in a relationship of obedience, though slightly different, to the Metropolitan. This relationship is the primacy of leadership.

In the Orthodox Church, the bishops were entrusted by the Apostles, by virtue of their ordination, with the greatest degree of responsibility for the whole Church. An individual bishop is accountable for the people and their lives in his diocese. It is a holistic responsibility for every aspect of the life of his communities and for the lives of the members of his diocese. This does not mean power and control, but rather accountability, and the maintenance of a unity of mind and vision throughout the Church. It means that a bishop must know his priests and people, and actively build and maintain consensus with them. This pertains not only to doctrine and practice of the Faith, but the unity of a community gathered in love.

If a national local church (whatever you would call the ecclesiastical province that has autocephaly or autonomy) is a federation of dioceses, each diocese has to be an equal partner in the community. The primate is elected by the other bishops as its leader and particularly as the one who is accountable for the whole, and for its unity. The Metropolitan is accountable to the bishops, and the bishops to the Metropolitan. He is first among equals; but he bears a unique responsibility and accountability to maintain the unity and obedience with his Synod; as well as unity with the rest of the Churches world wide.

In the Orthodox Church in America, the current Statute envisions the Church as a single Archdiocese, with the Metropolitan as the single fully empowered bishop, and the other bishops as glorified auxiliaries. It does not adequately develop its vision of the dioceses. In other words, the existing Statute envisions complete centralization. I and the other bishops believe we need to decentralize, by emphasizing that the real life of the Church is on the diocesan level. The diocesan foundation of the life of the Church is not policy or philosophy: it is the structure that is at the heart of the canons and the apostolic teaching. The greater the decentralization and upbuilding of the life of the various dioceses, the greater will be the opportunity for authentic participation by more laity in the direction and decision-making, as well as ministries, of the Church.

In other words, we are talking about a major shift in the culture of the OCA: from centralized and dependent on "Syosset" for all leadership, to decentralized and looking to the local bishop to empower ministries to serve the particular needs of each region.

The Metropolitan and Metropolitan's Office

This decentralization does not mean weakening the Metropolitan's Office by strengthening the dioceses. Rather, for authentic accountability, we need a strong Metropolitan; but we also need strong dioceses. Does that mean a massive staff and development of all programs in New York? Not at all. Rather, what needs to be strengthened, and what has failed almost completely in the last decades, is that the Metropolitan needs to be the point of accountability for the Diocesan bishops. The Metropolitan is the one leader of the Church, elected both as president of the Synod by the Synod, but also by the whole Church in Council. While not above other bishops, he is elected to be accountable to the rest of the Church for the other bishops as Synod and the life of the whole. He is to represent it internationally and ecumenically, with an overarching ministry of unity. What is the ministry of unity, but to facilitate conciliarity on the various levels of the life of the Church. More on this below.

The dual election of the Metropolitan gives him a unique capacity among the bishops, as he is chosen as the Primate. Primacy means leadership, but also the responsibility of accountability. Primacy, leadership as first among equals, bears the responsibility to maintain canonical order within the Synod, and accountability of the bishops for their stewardship of their office. If a bishop loses the ability to lead through age or illness, or abuses his authority, or is credibly accused or falls into a state of immorality demanding canonical action, or is derelict in his duties, it is the Metropolitan's responsibility to investigate the situation on behalf of the Synod, and to call that bishop to accountability. If the bishop in question is the metropolitan himself, then the next senior bishop of the Synod bears that responsibility. The canons are clear: bishops alone judge bishops. These structures of accountability are essential if the Church is to maintain its integrity. The bishops, in turn, are responsible to maintain canonical order and integrity among their diocesan clergy.

There are certain ministries that can only be effectively accomplished on the level of the Metropolitan's Office: the calling of councils, Synods and church-wide meetings; the oversight and administration of theological education and training for ministries; administrative matters relating to churches and clergy, such as health care, tax status and pension; the facilitation of relations with other churches, both jurisdictional and inter-church ecumenical; and the communications that facilitate the multiple levels of relationship. These ministries require competent professionals to do the work needed to facilitate, empower and coordinate the various ministries within the dioceses. And it is this office that maintains the Orthodox Church in America in relationship with the other Orthodox Churches, the ministry of unity.

Diocesan Ministries

There are common ministries that must exist within each diocese: missions and evangelism, charitable outreach, youth work, religious education, and so forth. The Metropolitan and his office are given the task of encouraging the bishops to develop these active ministries within their dioceses, and to function as the coordinator and resource center for those ministries. However, those ministries have to be done on a local, diocesan level, not from a central office.

In other words, how is some ecclesiastical bureaucrat in Syosset supposed to know how to evangelize and establish a mission in Louisiana or Oregon? Or work with a native village in Alaska? Or renew a dead parish in the Monongahela Valley? Or establish a homeless shelter in Kansas City? Or how to serve a whole native people that converted in Mexico, who don't even speak Spanish, let alone English? These concrete ministries can only be done on a diocesan level: locally. Each diocese needs to develop the kind of outreach ministries necessary to fulfill the particular local needs that it encounters.

This is another aspect of a major culture shift: rather than simply being focused on developing parishes, according to a particular model, we must look at the diocese, to a large extent, as a collection of particular and diverse ministries. The greatest proportion of these will indeed be parishes; but there are a multitude of ways for a parish to exist and minister to its congregations. We have to embrace diversity of ministries and needs, and move beyond the idea of homogeneity of practice and form. Homogeneity is a characteristic of American denominationalism; we don't need it. For example, a parish might focus on Georgian, Mexican or Romanian immigrants, with specific language needs and cultural particularities. Or the ministry might not be a parish at all: a homeless shelter, an OCF chapter, a monastery, a battered women's center or a cohousing community for widows. The bishop is, by virtue of his office, the one who blesses all these ministries, and without his blessing, they cannot call themselves Orthodox. These can only be done on a local level, on a diocesan level. There can be sharing of information and experience between dioceses; but the ministries are going to be particular to their place. Some places will have a succession of different ministries, as one community dies out or moves along, and another moves into its place. Only on the local level can the Church be responsive to the particular needs of its communities.

As the local Church, as the diocese develops its life and programs, the greater the need presents itself for dialog and conciliarity on the diocesan level. As the various ministries grow and develop, then it would be appropriate for them to be represented, somehow, on the Diocesan Councils--which are the most important organs of conciliarity on the diocesan level. As the dioceses become more and more diverse, the task of conciliar dialog and consensus building will be greater and greater. This will demand more of the bishops; but in turn, it will involve more clergy and laity on an ever increasing scale. This already exists in the South, the West, and Canada; as well as to a great degree with the Midwest and the Romanian Episcopate.

Another major culture shift is to open the Synod itself to bishops sent from other Churches, and actualize itself as the basis of unity in North America. Thus, the vision is to "open up" the Synod to representatives of foreign churches who send bishops to North America to care for their nationals and immigrants, and yet, have them sit on the same Synod of the Orthodox Church in America. We already have three non-territorial dioceses; what needs to happen is to provide greater integration and cooperation, both on the local level between individual bishops, and on the Synodal level as a whole. In turn, the foreign bishops can represent the OCA to their mother churches, and their Synods to the OCA. This then becomes a model for Orthodox unity in North America, with a single Synod of Bishops that respects and preserves the diversity in unity of the whole.

To summarize: The major culture shifts needed in the OCA are decentralization and strengthening of local leadership, Episcopal and lay, and hence the upbuilding of the dioceses; a change in the institutional expressions of the conciliarity, the All American and Metropolitan Councils to reflect the Church as a federation of local churches (dioceses), united under one Synod with one Metropolitan. This is simply rooted in basic Orthodox ecclesiology. We must build an accountability structure within the Synod, which has not existed; but also build in an institutional process should that accountability structure fail. We must transcend the sense of homogeneity that has dominated the OCA, and embrace multiple diverse expressions of Orthodoxy within it. Our unity is not in uniformity; our unity is in the One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism, One Bread and Cup, respecting the legitimate diversity of expressions.

The Bishops and the People

Part of the dynamic currently is that the Synod is coming together as a community as never before. This is due to the personalities in the past, which prevented a sense of community. Now that has changed. And within that, there is a new sense of mutual accountability and co-responsibility for the whole Church. It is simply the Orthodox Faith and Tradition that the bishops bear the ultimate responsibility for the life of the Church. But they cannot and do not bear it alone.

There is no such thing as a bishop (or priest) without a flock. Without his flock, a bishop has no authority, because he has no responsibility. Bishops who are auxiliaries, retired or are without a flock are respected, and can serve as bishops; but they have no power to act on their own, but only with the specific request of the diocesan bishop. Only in relation to his own flock, and synod, does the episcopacy of a bishop have meaning. While the ordination of a bishop comes from the grace of the Spirit, it is always in relation to his particular community. A bishop can do nothing in another diocese without permission from the local bishop.

The point of all this is that if the diocese is the primary unit of the Church, the whole life of the Church depends on the relationship of the people of each diocese to their own bishop. St Paul envisions this as a unity of mind and heart, with common service together to those in need, celebrating a common Eucharist, an authentic community gathered in love. This unity of life has a mystical reality: the bishop is the sacramental recapitulation of the community. But, this in turn has to have a basis in experience: the unity of the community comes from the bishop's active ministry, and involvement in the lives of his people, their consensus, and following of the bishop's leadership. In other words, the community is gathered in love around their bishop, who in turn loves them and cares for them. The two movements are both critical: the love of the flock for the bishop--and hence, obedience and cooperation; and the love of the bishop for the flock--seeking to fulfill their needs by empowering ministries within the Body. The two must be absolutely complementary, a synergy.

The bishop's leadership is crucial. It is what holds a diocese together, unifies it into one body, and fulfills it as the Church the Body of Christ. Otherwise, you may have an efficient organization, but it is not the Church. Ultimately, it is the bishop's ministry, and the grace which flows from it, that transforms a community into the Church. The bishop is the criterion of ecclesiality.

There is no leadership if people don't follow. And there is no leadership if there is only domination and subjection of others. Christian leadership is always about building synergy, communion in love. Obedience is an expression of that synergy, communion in love. It flows from responsibility and accountability, and a sense of mutuality.

Hierarchy is primarily about a distribution of responsibility, and is a structure of accountability. The Orthodox Church is a hierarchical church par excellence! It has nothing to do with dominance and subjection; but rather, with shared responsibility in a structure of accountability. The bishop is within the Church, not over it. Hierarchy is about the facilitation of conciliarity. Hierarchy provides the context for people on every level of responsibility for the life of the Church to exercise their ministries together, communally. It brings forth and employs the "diversity of gifts" coming from the one Spirit.

The organs of conciliar leadership that have evolved in the Orthodox Church in America are: parish councils, diocesan councils, the All American Councils, the Metropolitan Council. The ultimate model of conciliarity and conciliar leadership is the synod of bishops. This synodal/conciliar model is reflected up and down, as it were, in the levels of Church organization. Because the diocese is the basic unit of the Church, indeed is the Local Church, Diocesan Councils have an essential role. The Synod of Bishops is the sacramental type of all councils, the recapitulation of all the dioceses in the Synod. All other councils within the Church have to reflect this essential diocesan structure of the Church, and the conciliar structure that constitutes it.

Diocesan Councils

Historically, the presbyters constituted a council around the bishop, a parish or diocesan council. Contemporary Diocesan Councils, with Diocesan Assemblies, are the means whereby the presbyters and lay leaders make the needs within the community known, and where the bishop works to build consensus and empower lay leaders to serve those needs. While the means is partly financial administration, the diocesan councils are the real organ of conciliarity within each local church. The bishop leads and proposes, the Council discusses and comes to consensus, and then cooperates to fulfill the needs of the church. When it works, there is wonderful synergy, and the Church's needs are fulfilled; when it doesn't, the whole diocese grinds to a halt. It takes as much work from the bishop as from everyone else to come together, discern God's will, and implement it through consensus and cooperation.

This diocesan structure is particularly important in the OCA because of the tremendous diversity within each diocese, not to mention the whole Church. The diversity of communities and ministries has the bishop as its point of unity, and works out its daily life in the community represented by the diocesan council. The acceptance and fostering of diversity in the ministries and communities of the Church is essential for its growth.

The All American Council and Metropolitan Council

While it is true that the Canons do not envision councils of clergy and lay representatives meeting with bishops, the experience of the OCA has shown that councils reflecting the whole community of the Church are essential to its life in the contemporary world. The historical foundations of the AAC and MC lie in the Russian theologians who designed the Great Council of 1917. These decisions, while shelved in Russia due to the Communist period, were applied by the Orthodox Church in America in its canonical structure. They resonate with the culture of the Church in America. Indeed, as 21st Century Christians in the West, it is difficult to comprehend the life of the Church without participation by the laity and the clergy in decision making on most levels of the Church's organization.

One of the most glaring problems of the current Statute is how the All American Council is currently constituted: it currently actualizes the Statute's vision of the whole OCA as a single Archdiocese. Similarly, the Metropolitan Council is envisioned as continuing the work of the AAC between sessions, but also reflects the vision of the Church as a single archdiocese. The AAC, in particular, regards each parish as if the Metropolitan were its bishop, and the dioceses are not reflected at all. The MC, as the old Archdiocesan Council of the Metropolia, includes members elected at large at the AAC in addition to specifically diocesan representation, and now generally excludes the hierarchs. Neither body reflects the diocesan character of the Church.

One way to slightly modify the AAC to give it a more diocesan character, and to make it more effective, would be to change the representation from parochial to diocesan. Either a diocese would elect a given number of representatives to the Council; or the diocesan council, with the deans, would be designated as the representatives to the All American Council. Reducing the AAC from 900+ to less than two hundred people would make it much more effective in dealing with administrative issues, and enable representatives to work together to support and share ministries and other resources throughout the Church. It would also focus the work of the All American Council on the business of the Church, and it could be accommodated at far more modest expense. The expenses of the delegates would be paid by their respective dioceses. This type of council would meet every three years. While there would be a social component to it, the main social/educational/fellowship events would be conferences and conventions that do not focus on business.

What would give the new AAC its diocesan character is that it would not only be composed of diocesan representatives, but it could be structured with a double voting structure, so that each diocese would have one vote, as well as each delegate. This would force the discussions to be focused within each diocesan representation, led by their bishop; and thus build the community of the diocese while also building the greater community of the Church. Similarly, this would force a greater sense of accountability of the bishop to his diocese, and of the diocesan representatives to their bishop, in the task of building consensus and community.

A second type of All American Council, a Great Council, would be convoked to elect a new Metropolitan. This would include much broader representation, from each parish, though it would retain the same diocesan structure of the regular AAC. The Russian equivalent, to elect a Patriarch, takes candidates nominated by the Holy Synod, and then it is the Council that elects; the OCA version is just the opposite.

Pastors' Conferences and Clergy-Laity Conventions: Crosscutting Relationships

It is very important, however, that the Church gather together to discuss issues and for the people to get to know one another across diocesan boundaries. This could be done with annual gatherings, alternating pastors' conferences and Clergy-laity conventions, which would be open to all members of the Church, and would focus on education and fellowship, youth events and the sharing of information about ministries. While these Clergy-Laity Conventions would not have a business component, they could also be designed to pay for themselves, and be events that people would look forward to. The Pastors' Conferences in particular could be used for continuing education, and the building up of the relationships of the clergy across diocesan lines. Both types of meetings are valuable to build and maintain a common vision across the whole Orthodox Church in America.

The Metropolitan Council and Metropolitan's Office

The Metropolitan Council, as an advisory board to the Metropolitan, and a Board of Trustees for the corporation of the Orthodox Church in America, is an important element in the life of the Church. Perhaps the main difference that I would suggest is that representatives be strictly diocesan, rather than having a number of delegates at large elected at the AAC. The MC continues the work of the AAC between sessions; but also is the chief administrative support body to the office of the Metropolitan.

The officers of the Church are ex officio members of the MC, but are also extensions of the MC to assist the Metropolitan as the full time administrative staff. The MC are fiduciaries, who accept responsibility for the life and work of the Church, and who themselves work to support the Church in its various tasks. But, given the diocesan focus, the MC would need to keep in mind not only issues affecting the whole Church, but the common ministries and activities between dioceses.

BXVI on the Holy Triduum of Easter

On the Holy Triduum
"Hope Is Nourished in the Great Silence of Holy Saturday"

VATICAN CITY, APRIL 8, 2009 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today at the general audience in St. Peter's Square.

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Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Holy Week, which for us Christians is the most important week of the year, offers us the opportunity to be immersed in the central events of Redemption, to relive the Paschal Mystery, the great mystery of the faith. Beginning tomorrow afternoon, with the Mass "In Coena Domini," the solemn liturgical rites will help us to meditate in a more lively manner on the Passion, Death and Resurrection of the Lord in the days of the Holy Paschal Triduum, fulcrum of the entire liturgical year.

May divine grace open our hearts to comprehend the inestimable gift that salvation is, obtained for us by Christ's sacrifice. We find this immense gift wonderfully narrated in a famous hymn contained in the Letter to the Philippians (cf. 2:6-11), on which we meditated several times in Lent. The Apostle reviews, both in an essential and effective manner, the whole mystery of the history of salvation referring to Adam's pride who, not being God, wanted to be like God. And he contrasts this pride of the first man, which all of us feel a bit in our being, with the humility of the true Son of God who, becoming man, did not hesitate to take upon himself all the weaknesses of the human being, except sin, and pushed himself to the profundity of death. This descent to the last profundity of the Passion and Death is then followed by his exaltation, the true glory, the glory of the love that went all the way to the end. And that is why it is right -- as Paul says -- that "at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord!" (2:10-11). With these words, St. Paul refers to a prophecy of Isaiah where God says: I am the Lord, to me every knee shall bow in heaven and on earth (cf. Isaiah 45: 23). This -- says Paul -- is also true for Jesus Christ. He really is, in his humility, in the true greatness of his love, the Lord of the world and before him every knee truly bows.

How marvelous, and at the same time amazing, is this mystery! We can never meditate this reality sufficiently. Jesus, though being God, did not want to make of his divine prerogatives an exclusive possession; he did not want to use his being God, his glorious dignity and power, as an instrument of triumph and sign of distance from us. On the contrary, "he emptied himself" assuming our miserable and weak human condition -- in this regard, Paul uses a quite meaningful Greek verb to indicate the kenosis, this descent of Jesus. The divine form (morphe) is hidden in Christ under the human form, namely, under our reality marked by suffering, poverty, human limitations and death. The radical and true sharing of our nature, a sharing in everything except sin, leads him to that frontier that is the sign of our finiteness -- death. But all this was not the fruit of a dark mechanism or a blind fatality: It was instead his free choice, by his generous adherence to the salvific plan of the Father. And the death which he went out to meet -- adds Paul -- was that of the cross, the most humiliating and degrading that one can imagine. The Lord of the universe did all this out of love for us: out of love he willed to "empty himself" and make himself our brother; out of love he shared our condition, that of every man and every woman. In this connection, Theodoret of Cyrus, a great witness of the Eastern tradition, writes: "Being God and God by nature and having equality with God, he did not retain this as something great, as do those who have received some honor beyond their merits, but concealing his merits, he chose the most profound humility and took the form of a human being" (Commentary on the Letter to the Philippians, 2:6-7).

As prelude to the Paschal Triduum, which will begin tomorrow -- as I was saying -- with the thought-provoking afternoon rites of Holy Thursday, is the solemn Chrism Mass, which the bishop celebrates in the morning with his presbytery, and in the course of which at the same time the priestly promises are renewed, made on the day of ordination. It is a gesture of great value, an occasion all the more propitious in which the priests confirm their fidelity to Christ who chose them as his ministers. Moreover, this priestly meeting assumes a particular meaning, because it is almost a preparation to the Priestly Year, which I have proclaimed on the occasion of the 150th anniversary of the death of the holy Curé of Ars and which will begin next June 19. Blessed also in the Chrism Mass will be the oil of the sick and of catechumens, and the chrism will be consecrated. These are rites that signify symbolically the fullness of Christ's priesthood and the ecclesial communion that must animate Christian people, gathered for the Eucharistic sacrifice and vivified in the unity of the gift of the Holy Spirit.

In the afternoon Mass, called "In Coena Domini," the Church commemorates the institution of the Eucharist, the ministerial priesthood and the new commandment of charity, left by Jesus to his disciples. St. Paul gives one of the earliest testimonies of all that happened in the Cenacle, vigil of the Lord's Passion. "The Lord Jesus," he wrote, at the beginning of the 50's years, based on a text he received from the Lord's own realm, "on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, 'This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.' In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, 'This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me'" (1 Corinthians 11:23-25). Words charged with mystery, which manifest clearly the will of Christ: Under the species of bread and wine he renders himself present in his body given and with his bloodshed. It is the sacrifice of the new and definitive covenant offered to all, without distinction of race or culture. And from this sacramental rite, which he entrusts to the Church as supreme proof of his love, Jesus appointed his disciples as ministers, and those who followed them in the course of the centuries. Holy Thursday is, therefore, a renewed invitation to render thanks to God for the supreme gift of the Eucharist, to be received with devotion and to be adored with lively faith. Because of this, the Church encourages, after the celebration of Holy Mass, watching in the presence of the Most Holy Sacrament, recalling the sad hour that Jesus passed in solitude and prayer in Gethsemane, before being arrested and then being condemned to death.

And so we come to Good Friday, day of the Passion and crucifixion of the Lord. Every year, placing ourselves in silence before Jesus nailed to the wood of the cross, we realize how full of love were the words he pronounced on the eve, in the course of the Last Supper. "This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many" (Mark 14:24). Jesus willed to offer his life in sacrifice for the remission of humanity's sins. Just as before the Eucharist, so before the Passion and Death of Jesus on the cross the mystery is unfathomable to reason. We are placed before something that humanly might seem absurd: a God who not only is made man, with all man's needs, not only suffers to save man, burdening himself with all the tragedy of humanity, but dies for man.

Christ's death recalls the accumulation of sorrows and evils that beset humanity of all times: the crushing weight of our dying, the hatred and violence that again today bloody the earth. The Lord's Passion continues in the suffering of men. As Blaise Pascal correctly writes, "Jesus will be in agony until the end of the world; one must not sleep during this time" (Pensées, 553). If Good Friday is a day full of sadness, and hence at the same time, all the more propitious a day to reawaken our faith, to strengthen our hope and courage so that each one of us will carry his cross with humility, trust and abandonment in God, certain of his support and victory. The liturgy of this day sings: "O Crux, ave, spes unica" (Hail, O cross, our only hope)."

This hope is nourished in the great silence of Holy Saturday, awaiting the resurrection of Jesus. On this day the Churches are stripped and no particular liturgical rites are provided. The Church watches in prayer like Mary, and together with Mary, sharing the same feelings of sorrow and trust in God. Justly recommended is to preserve throughout the day a prayerful climate, favorable to meditation and reconciliation; the faithful are encouraged to approach the sacrament of penance, to be able to participate truly renewed in the Easter celebrations.

The recollection and silence of Holy Saturday lead us at night to the solemn Easter Vigil, "mother of all vigils," when the singing of the joy of the resurrection of Christ will erupt in all the churches and communities. Proclaimed once again will be the victory of light over darkness, of life over death, and the Church will rejoice in the encounter with her Lord. We will thus enter into the climate of the Easter of Resurrection.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us dispose ourselves to live the Holy Triduum intensely, to participate ever more profoundly in the mystery of Christ. We are accompanied on this journey by the Holy Virgin, who in silence followed her son Jesus to Calvary, taking part with great sorrow in his sacrifice, thus cooperating with the mystery of the Redemption and becoming Mother of all believers (cf. John 19:25-27). Together with her we will enter the Cenacle, we will stay at the foot of the Cross, we will watch next to the dead Christ, awaiting with hope the dawn of the radiant day of the Resurrection. In this perspective, I now express to all of you the most cordial wishes for a happy and holy Easter, together with your families, parishes and communities.

[The Pope then greeted pilgrims in several languages. In Italian, he said:]

I address a cordial welcome to Italian-speaking pilgrims. In the first place I renew my spiritual closeness to the dear community of L'Aquila and of the other regions, harshly stricken by the violent seismic phenomenon of past days, which has caused numerous victims, many wounded and immense material damage. The solicitude with which the authorities, forces of order, volunteers and other workers are helping these brothers of ours shows the importance of solidarity, to overcome together such painful trials. Once again I wish to say to those populations that the Pope shares their sorrow and concern. Very dear ones, I hope to come to see you as soon as possible. Know that the Pope prays for all, imploring the Lord's mercy for the deceased and the maternal comfort of Mary for the families and survivors, and the support of Christian hope.

Then I greet the participants in the UNIV international convention, promoted by the prelature of the Opus Dei. Dear friends, I exhort you to respond with joy to the Lord's call to give full meaning to your lives: in study, in relations with colleagues, in the family and in society. "Don't forget that many great things depend on the fact that you and I," said St. Josemaría Escrivá, "behave as God wishes" (The Way, 755). I greet the faithful of the parish of St. John the Baptist, in Campagnano of Rome, and the directors, teachers and numerous young students of the Don Milani Didactic Circle of Galatone. I hope that the visit to the tombs of the Apostles will arouse in all the desire to always serve Christ and brethren ever more generously.

I greet young people, the sick and newlyweds. Tomorrow we will enter in the Holy Triduum, which will make us relive the central mysteries of our salvation. I invite you, dear young people, to draw from the Cross the necessary light to walk in the footsteps of the Redeemer. For you, dear sick people, may the Passion of the Lord, culminating in the triumph of Easter, always be the source of hope. And you, dear newlyweds, by living the Paschal Mystery, make your existence become a mutual gift.

[Translation by ZENIT]

[In English, he said]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Tomorrow we begin the Holy Triduum, the heart of the entire liturgical year: a time when we immerse ourselves in the central events of our Redemption. The Chrism Mass serves as a prelude to these three days, as priests renew their promises to the Bishop, who then blesses the holy oils and consecrates the chrism signifying the gift of the Holy Spirit. At the Mass of the Lord's Supper, we recall the institution of the Eucharist, the supreme sign of Christ's love for us. As we venerate his Cross on Good Friday, we contemplate the full meaning of his words: "This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many" (Mk 14:24). Holy Saturday finds us waiting in silent hope for the Easter Vigil, when every church will break forth in a song of joy at the Lord's Resurrection. The celebration of the Paschal mystery recalls the depth of Christ's love: he did not wish to exercise his divinity as an exclusive possession, a means of domination, or a sign of distance between him and us. Rather, "he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant" (Phil 2:7) by sharing fully in our human condition, even to the point of death: not a death imposed by blind chance or fate, but one freely chosen in obedience to the Father's will for the salvation for all. May our fervent celebration of the Triduum draw us ever more deeply into Christ's Paschal mystery!

I am pleased to greet the English-speaking pilgrims present at today's Audience. May your visit to Rome during this Holy Week fill you with the peace, hope and joy of Christ Jesus!

© Copyright 2009 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana

Save the monastery & liturgy, save the world!

Save the monaster & liturgy, save the world!

The Clear Creek Monastery list just sent text of a wonderful Russ Hittinger profile of the congregation of Benedectine monks in Fontgombault, who at the time it was written (1999) was starting to plant a daughter house in eastern Oklahoma. I know this is my kind of thing, but I tell you, when I got to the end of Russ's piece, I got a chill of excitement. This really has to be the year I make a pilgrimage to Clear Creek. It really does. If you have any interest in monasticism and/or Catholicism, read past the jump. God bless these holy monks and their efforts at renewal!

Crisis Magazine
November 1999
Solesmes Monks Coming to Tulsa
by RUSSELL HITTINGER
The establishment of a new Benedictine monastery at Clear Creek, Oklahoma is the occasion for this account of the recent history of monasticism in Europe and the remarkable story behind the new foundation.

In January 1999, as the pope was preparing to fly from Mexico City to St. Louis, a rumor rippled through Cherokee County, Oklahoma. Perched in the foothills of the Ozarks, Cherokee County is the capital of the Cherokee Nation; here ended the 1839 Trail of Tears, the 1,000-mile forced march of the Cherokees from Georgia to Oklahoma. The local grammar school at Lost City had received a fax from a monastery in France. Someone reckoned that the fax was in Italian, and by the time this report reached the local feed store and therefore to cell phones and CB radios country-wide, the rumor was in full orbit.

The pope was headed for Lost City -- specifically, to a 1,200-acre tract of land at one time owned by Cleo Epps, a notorious bootlegger, but recently purchased by French Benedictine monks of the Congregation of Solesmes. That very week, the Lost City school was visited by two black-hooded monks, one wearing a pectoral cross. Someone overheard a remark about the monks meeting with the pope. There were too many coincidences. It was clear, the pope would be touching down enroute to St. Louis.

The monk with the pectoral cross was Dom Antoine Forgeot, abbot of Notre-Dame de Fontgombault, an eleventh-century Benedictine monastery east of Poitiers. His companion was Father Philip Anderson, prior of Notre-Dame de Triors, a daughterhouse of Fontgombault, founded south of Lyon in 1984. And they were indeed going to meet the pope in St. Louis to ask for the Holy Father's blessing on the new monastery outside of Lost City to be christened Our Lady of the Annunciation at Clear Creek. This fall, 13 monks -- two Canadian, three Frenchmen, and eight American -- arrived from France to build their monastery.

Contemplative life in modern Tulsa

Compared with other end-of-the-millennium events, the founding of the new Benedictine monastery at Clear Creek is a rather quiet and certainly unassuming affair. But what these black-hooded monks propose to do in the foothills of the Ozarks is significant, for Clear Creek is the first foundation (for men) of the Congregation of Solesmes in the United States. The most famous Benedictine congregation in Europe, at least in modern times, is planting itself in a place where Catholics constitute little more than 2 percent of the population, during a time of unprecedented American prosperity and power. An hour away in Tulsa, the parking lots of malls, high schools, and mega-churches are packed deep with Lexus SUVs and Land Rovers. Where oil wells once defined the American century in these parts, ten-story cell phone transmission towers now encircle the city, symbolizing the new digitalized Sunbelt. From a worldly perspective, this is a strange time and place to sow the seeds of contemplation.

But more than 150 years ago, Benedictine monasticism was revived at Solesmes under conditions that would have seemed even more unusual. During the late 18th and 19th centuries, from Lisbon to Vienna, European civil authorities declared war on monasticism. As Rousseau said, "Wherever the Clergy constitutes a body it is the master and lawgiver in its realm." Religious orders constituted such a "body" par excellence. Deriving their authority from Rome, they enjoyed independence from the local church and from civil powers. Such imperium in imperio was unacceptable to the new European regimes. Monastic institutions were an affront not only to the state but also to the new civic culture of republicanism. Garat l'Aine declared in the Assemblée Nationale in 1790 that the religious vow "is a civil suicide." Monks, he alleged, detach their affections from things of the world without giving anything back to society in the form of schools, hospitals, or orphanages. In a word, he said, monks are "useless."

The new constitutional democracies in Europe used every means at their disposal to eliminate monasticism. Within one generation, only 30 of 1,500 Benedictine abbeys survived in Europe. Cluny, the capital of medieval monasticism in the West, was closed and auctioned off to the highest bidder. Citeaux and Clairvaux likewise were confiscated and turned into state prisons. At La Trappe, the Trappists were rounded up for chain gangs, and some of the monks were sent to the penal colony of Conenama in French Guiana. By 1803, every one of the 68 Carthusian houses in France and the 18 in Germany had vanished under the legal and extralegal policies of the new regimes. Augustinian Hermits disappeared forever from Portugal, where they once had 50 monasteries. At the end of the 19th century, 500 Dominican houses had dwindled to 80, and the total number of friars plummeted from 25,000 to about 3,000. The consecrated life of religious was over, or so it seemed.

In the 1830s, a secular priest named Prosper Guéranger received permission from Pope Gregory XVI, a Camaldolese monk, to refound Benedictine monasticism at the abandoned priory of Solesmes, not far from Le Mans. Though he had never been a novice or a monk, Guéranger was made an abbot overnight. He rebuilt the Benedictine life by virtue of an extraordinary ability to imagine what monasticism once was and what it is supposed to be. This was the era of Romanticism, when many intellectuals and artists indulged a sympathy for things medieval. Guéranger, however, understood how to revive the older institutions and traditions as living realities, not as a mere exercise in nostalgia.

His multi-volume works, L'Année liturgique and Institutions liturgiques, were devoted not only to the revival of monastic chant but more broadly to exploring the historical and theological grounds for a recovery of the Roman liturgy. He insisted that liturgy and apostolic authority are intertwined, for Christ gave his apostles power to dispense the mysteries; Christ bestowed liturgical power. This simple but profound point was quite contrary to the spirit of the age, which wanted Catholicism reduced to national churches and connected to Rome only by extrinsic authority. Rather than seeing the papacy as a power external to the temporal state, Guéranger saw it as an authority internal to culture, a culture supernaturalized through the "great and mighty river" of liturgical life.

To the liberals of his time, Guéranger seemed to be an ultramontanist, and he was, for he worked behind the scenes writing briefs for the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception and Pastor Aeternus, the Vatican I document on papal authority. From the right, he seemed to be a dangerous liberal because he believed that efforts to restore political unity between throne and altar distracted from the renewal of the Church's interior landscapes. If permitted civil freedoms, he argued, the Roman Church had sufficient spiritual resources to restore religion and culture. Thus Guéranger anticipated some of the most important issues that would come into view a century later at Vatican II: religious liberty vis-à-vis the state, the role of Rome in evangelizing culture across national boundaries, recovery of patristic theology, and the renewal of the Roman liturgy.

Despite being expelled from France three times (in November 1880, the monks were forcibly removed from their choir stalls while chanting the divine office), the Congregation of Solesmes not only endured but flourished. Today, there are some 29 monasteries and convents, and about 1,000 monks and nuns.. They have continued to resist taking on "useful" apostolates that would distract from the contemplative life and the priority of choir. Many Catholics in the United States have heard of Solesmes, for almost all Gregorian chant by choirs or on recordings -- or even better, at a Catholic liturgy -- is derived from the restoration of chant undertaken by the monks of Saint-Pierre de Solesmes. Today the very word Solesmes evokes the image of serenity, beauty, and liturgical refinement.

The road to Oklahoma

The new foundation in Oklahoma derives from Fontgombault and three of its daughterhouses in the Solesmes system. Monasticism at Fontgombault dates back to 1091, when hermits living in caves on the banks of the Creuse River, east of Poitiers, united under the Rule of St. Benedict. Its history is not atypical of French monasticism. It thrived in the Middle Ages but slowly declined under the force of religious wars, absentee abbots, and finally the French Revolution.

Monasticism first returned to Fontgombault with the Trappists in 1849. The French government permitted the Trappists to reclaim the monastery provided the monks did something "useful" -- in this case, they ran a reform school for boys. Charles de Foucauld visited the Trappists there before becoming a hermit in the Sahara. They were evicted in 1903. In The Waters of Siloe, Thomas Merton recounts how some of the Fontgombault Trappists took refuge at Gethsemani in Kentucky; when Merton entered Gethsemani in 1941, one of the Fontgombault monks was still alive.

After World War II, Solesmes established a daughterhouse at Fontgombault, which became an Abbey in 1953. Plentiful vocations have enabled it, in turn, to found three more monasteries at Randol (1971), Triors (1984), and Gaussan (1994). The average of monks at each of these monasteries is about 40. Randol, on top of a mountain just outside Clermont-Ferrand, is the first contemplative foundation in the Auvergne region of France since 1789. All of these monasteries, including the new priory at Clear Creek, celebrate the traditional Roman liturgy at the Conventual Mass after tierce each morning.

In addition to being the first Solesmes foundation for men (in 1981 a convent was founded in Vermont) in the United States, the new priory at Clear Creek represents yet another first. It is the first time Europeans have sent Americans to spearhead the founding of a contemplative house in America. And this is perhaps the most interesting part of the story.

The connection with America goes back almost 30 years, when there was a remarkable influx of Yanks to Fontgombault. Strangely enough, this movement of Americans across the Atlantic was indirectly aided and abetted by the United States government, which, in 1970, gave University of Kansas (KU) professors John Senior, Dennis Quinn, and Frank Nelick a grant for an experimental program in "Tradition." The Pearson College Integrated Humanities Program provided courses in Western civilization, which in its time and place had just enough countercultural edge to attract a surprising number of students. The program included no overt training in theology or Catholic catechism.

In 1972 two students set out on a field trip to Europe to study village life. They also expressed a desire to hear Gregorian chant. A Trappist monk of Gethsemani who happened to be passing through KU recommended that they visit Fontgombault. Before the boys left for Europe, Professor Senior quipped, "bring back an abbot." As providence had it, the students ended up at the porter's gate of Fontgombault in July 1972. The abbot at that time, Dom Jean Roy, was absent. Upon his return, the master of novices informed him that two Americans in the guest house had requested permission to stay for several months. Dom Roy agreed. Later, he mentioned he had been thinking of the United States all that day and, in fact, had thought of founding a monastery there a few years before.

Despite their parents' incomprehension and even threats of being pursued by cult-deprogrammers, more than 100 KU students followed the first group to Fontgombault. In 1976, 60 American students arrived during Lent. It is said that many of them eventually became Catholics, including three who took monastic vows and four who became secular priests. Meanwhile, back at KU, French professors protested these field trips on the grounds that France belonged exclusively to the French Department. More serious, though unproven, allegations of religious proselytizing and brainwashing were brought against the faculty. The Humanities Program was closed after the 1977-1978 academic year. Evidently, the reality of Kansas Jayhawks exchanging hooded frat sweatshirts for hooded habits could not be tolerated by state and university officials. (An editorial cartoon in the March 31, 1977, Kansas City Times depicted an evolutionary scheme, beginning with a college hippie who evolves into a businessman, before evolving into a monk.)

In any event, 3,000 miles away, Fontgombault now had a significant contingent of Americans and three Canadians who found their way to Fontgombault completely apart from the Kansas program. By the early 1990s, according to Dom Forgeot, "it just did not seem possible to wait any longer before restoring to America the considerable number of vocations that we have received from her." Exploratory trips were made to several dioceses in search for the right combination of factors, such as suitably remote land and episcopal approval of a group of monk who bring no active apostolate.

The right combination was found in the diocese of Tulsa. Bishop Edward Slattery had been to France in 1997 to ordain, in the Carthusian house of Sélignac, a Tulsan who had once tested a vocation at Fontgombault. Three other Tulsans -- a priest, a librarian, and a public school teacher -- had also tested vocations at Fontgombault. Yet another, the daughter of a professor at Oral Roberts University, had become a nun at Jouques, a traditional Benedictine convent in the south of France. Though it might seem like a strange episode in a Catholic X-Files, there was a spiritual chord reverberating between eastern Oklahoma and France.

On the Feast of the Assumption in 1998, on the 50th anniversary of the return of Benedictine monasticism to Fontgombault, Bishop Slattery and Dom Forgeot signed an ecclesiastical charter, Ad Dei Gloriam. The diocese formally recognized the purely contemplative vocation of the new foundation, while the monks promised to be a ministry of prayer and retreats. Bishop Slattery returned to Fontgombault again this year on the Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul to celebrate Mass and to give some last-minute encouragement to the monks who, after more than 20 years in a French cloister, would be making a trip back to the New World.

Planting seeds in fresh soil

More than 25 years after the Kansas professor made the quip about the boys bringing back an abbot, the Americans are back, along with three Frenchmen and two Canadians. I was so struck by the story of American students from the late 1960s bringing what is essentially Carolingian monasticism to the New World that I decided last spring to visit the three French monasteries at Triors, Randol, and Fontgombault before the monks departed for Oklahoma.

My high expectations for the liturgical ritual were more than fulfilled. There is a kind of Romano-Gallic beauty, at once earthy and refined, that pervades these houses. The Roman rituals never appeared or sounded so good. I felt as if I had happened upon them for the first time. Even a tourist like me could easily catch a glimpse of the impression it must have made on those Kansas students a quarter-century ago. The question I wanted answered is whether this kind of monasticism is transplantable to Lost City, that is, to the United States. After all, this is not a golden or even bronze era of contemplative life in North America.

For his part, the abbot of Fontgombault insisted that it would be a mistake to believe that even the external refinements of the Solesmes Benedictine tradition are merely French, or for that matter merely Old World European. The beauty of the externalities, he explained -- what makes them refulgent even to the casual observer -- derives from St. Benedict's teaching on the degrees of humility. From interior humility, which is a supernatural gift, the body is induced to share in a certain order and beauty. The abbot said, "We do not for a moment forget this beauty, but by the same token we cannot forget its source, which is supernatural." It is not French, and it is not American -- it is the monastic appropriation of Gospel. There is no reason why this cannot be taught to Americans who live in varying degrees of proximity to Lost City.

One monk, an American, took a rather different approach to my question. The French soul, he explained, is old soil for monasticism. It has been tilled and turned for centuries, and even in its exhaustion, it can still produce a sturdy plant. Contemporary France is a jaded, secular culture in which anticlericalism is a democratic sport, but even so, there are 79 Benedictine monasteries in France. The American soul, on the other hand, has not been tilled to this end. (Incidentally, several of the monks, especially the French, expressed great admiration for Thomas Merton and the American Trappists of the era.) The American religious genius has been given to other, more active ends. But once this soil is cultivated for the seeds of contemplation, it will be so fresh that it will produce dramatic results.

Perhaps these monks are right. It is an issue of timing that defies worldly predictions. American Catholics are the most religiously free and prosperous people on earth. Once a church of immigrants who had something to prove to themselves and to their surrounding culture, Catholicism is today the last mainline church; it is the last church that consistently speaks in the voice of Christian tradition on those moral and spiritual issues recognizable to anyone's grandparents, Catholic or Protestant. The Catholic Church in America really doesn't have anything left to prove to the political and economic culture. The question now is how to use and direct her own freedom and generosity. Perhaps the nobility of what St. Therese called her "little way," the hidden life that once created such far-reaching results for Western culture is the next American frontier, the challenge for a truly free people. Perhaps this is to be the next chapter in "How the West Was Won."