Doru Costache - The Ecclesial Synaxis 5

[Published in The Greek Australian Vema, June 2009, p.14]

THE ECCLESIAL SYNAXIS EPITOME OF A LEARNING SOCIETY (Part 5)

Revd Dr Doru Costache The Divine Liturgy is too intricate, some say; too many symbols, gestures and movements – they are whinging. Others complain about the Byzantine or medieval allure of our services, which they consider to be irrelevant to the aspirations and expectations of contemporary people. Nevertheless, our way of celebrating the new life has always been strange, no matter the time, culture and location. In the early Christian centuries, the unbelievers were incapable of grasping the meaning and purpose of our mysteries, branding our ancestors in faith as impious man-worshippers (because of their reverence for the incarnate Logos), viciously practicing anthropophagy (misunderstanding of the eucharistic meal) and accusing them of other licentious customs. Today, for the people mentioned above, our liturgical approach to life is allegedly outdated and incapable of satisfying this ‘spiritually mature age’ of moral disorientation, hypocrisy, ingratitude and selfishness, where the notion of sin as an existential failure has been lost and people dream of progressing whilst ignoring their unhealed brokenness. Our liturgical ethos indeed promotes the truth which our contemporaries ignore – that we are called in Christ Jesus to walk in the newness of life and to enjoy the fullness of life, goals that cannot be achieved, however, without the undertaking of a radical and lifelong process of personal transformation. From this point of view, the entire framework of the Orthodox Church and particularly the liturgical assembly constitute a framework meant to assist God’s people along the journey of their daily renewal. The ever misinterpreted symbols, gestures and movements pertaining to the ecclesial synaxis contribute in various ways to the process of transformation undertaken by those who consciously acknowledge and walk the path. In the following, and at the end of this series of articles exploring the liturgy as an educational framework, I will address the implicit manners of teaching/learning within the ecclesial synaxis through some symbolic gestures and elements of ritual dramatisation. Before attempting this presentation, however, I draw the reader’s attention to the articles published in the Vema for several years by Dr Guy Freeland (under the generic title of ‘Windows to Orthodoxy’), mostly the papers dedicated to the symbolic dimension of ecclesial architecture and liturgical space. Dr Freeland’s rich contributions cannot be ignored by those aspiring to making sense of the complexity of our way in Christ, far from any superficial consumerist-like approaches to the spiritual life. The entire ensemble as represented by the ecclesial architecture, also the mystagogical character of the rituals, words, gestures, movements, sounds and scents – all these should be taken as instruments within the whole learning/teaching strategy of the Orthodox Church. To continue the line of the previous article, I will first address aspects related to the scriptural texts within the liturgical assembly. The reader already knows that the biblical lectures are accompanied by a prayer through which the celebrant and the congregation ask to be enlightened from above in order to grasp the spiritual – formative that is – message of the texts. This prayer, together with the explicit educational character of the readings and the homily notwithstanding, the same idea is been implicitly conveyed through a series of words, acts and gestures. For instance, it is not without reason that for the Gospel reading candles

are lit, a delicate symbol that illustrates the spirit of the ecclesial approach to the Scriptures. The sacred words do not simply instruct: they illumine, guide and inspire our lifestyle – an aspect confirmed by the introductory dialogue to the Gospel reading. As an essential part of this dialogue, the celebrant exhorts the congregation both to stand upright and rectify their lives (ὀρθοί) in order to receive the divine wisdom (σοφία) through hearing (ἀκούσωμεν) the good news. Standing up and hearing – these two actions indicate our physical or holistic participation in the divine wisdom. This holistic approach is also obvious during the reading of the apostolic pericope, when the celebrant incenses if not the whole nave (the central compartment of the church) at least the altar. The burning of incense is a powerful olfactory symbol that illustrates on the one hand the dissemination – through the reading of the scriptural texts – of the deifying grace, and on the other hand the fact that the grace not only operates on the level of our mind but penetrates the entire being through the bodily, and transfigured, senses (smelling, hearing). Such ritual gestures, words and acts teach that the biblical message is full of life and grace; the sacred words do not just inform, they likewise transform given that they are vehicles for the Holy Spirit (see the second article of this series, in The Greek Australian Vema, February 2009, pp. 8-9). Furthermore, the understanding of these liturgical acts emphatically indicate that our participation in the readings is not just intellectual but also profoundly existential. Within the ecclesial synaxis, the experience of hearing the sacred words becomes an event of full participation in God and of holistic transformation for the hearers. This experience culminates with the eucharistic communion, which is the act of a concrete participation – through eating and drinking – in the life of the incarnate Word of God, who is the primary source of the scriptural wisdom. For the Orthodox, the Eucharist is, indeed, the ultimate ‘interpretation’ of the Scriptures. To cut it short, all the above confirm once more the original contention of this series, that within the liturgical gathering the educational process does not exclusively refer to the intellect, embracing instead the entire human life. In the following, I will address just briefly another aspect pertaining to the teaching/learning process as unfolding within the holy synaxis. It is about the often criticised positioning of the bishop/presbyter facing the east (with very few exceptions), which presents to the congregation the back of the celebrant. For some, this positioning would indicate a distance between clergy and laity, sign of a clerical Church where the clergymen are indifferent in regard to the congregation standing behind them. In fact, this positioning, along with other aspects related to the clergy (like their sumptuous vestments, which actually signify, together with the golden background of the icons, the eschatological glory of God’s people in the Kingdom to come), has a very different meaning. More precisely, the ecclesial synaxis is a paschal gathering par excellence and a dramatised reiteration of the paschal mystery; or, the very idea of Pascha (from the Hebrew Pesach) is that of a journey and the celebrant’s eastward positioning illustrates it. Standing in front of the congregation and facing the east (symbol of our eschatological destination), the celebrant embodies the ideal of a guide through the spiritual journey we call Christian life, the way Moses guided God’s people through the desert of this life. And indeed, for the Orthodox the notion of guidance is crucial since no true spiritual progress can be made autonomously or individually: Adam and Eve have realised too late that taking on their own the spiritual adventure could not bring them to the desired outcomes. This is why, even though in our ‘mature age’ it is a sign of weakness to acknowledge the necessity of guidance, we still humbly acknowledge our needing it and the authority of those who ‘have been there and done that’ before us. Orthodoxy without guidance is as impossible as Orthodoxy without the liturgy.

There is much more to speak about. However, I do hope that even these few examples are sufficient for discerning and good-hearted people. When correctly understood, far from being unintelligible and outdated, the elements pertaining to the ecclesial synaxis illustrate an approach to life that is rewarding and fulfilling. Perhaps I will return one day to these and other related aspects. Till then, I conclude by restating that the Church is in truth a learning society. Also, that learning within the ecclesial context represents more than an informative experience, becoming a holistic and lasting experience of transformation which crowns the initial stages of conversion (referred to by the author in the article ‘Coming into Orthodoxy’, The Greek Australian Vema, June 2008, p. 6).