Baptism and Chrismation.

In the Eastern Church, baptism and confirmation (the latter being effected through anointment with “holy chrism” blessed by the bishop) are normally celebrated together. Immediately after receiving baptism and confirmation, the child is admitted to Eucharistic communion. There is therefore no practical difference between admitting a child or an adult to membership in the Church; in both cases, a human being who belongs to the “old Adam” through his natural birth is introduced to “new life” by partaking of baptism, chrismation, and holy communion. Christian initiation is one single and indivisible act: “If one does not receive the chrism, one is not perfectly baptized,” writes Symeon of Thessalonica.¹⁰

As we have seen, the patristic doctrine of salvation is based not on the idea of guilt inherited from Adam and from which man is relieved in Christ but on a more existential understanding of both “fallen” and “redeemed” humanity. From the “old Adam” through his natural birth, man inherits a defective form of life — bound by mortality, inevitably sinful, lacking fundamental freedom from the “prince of this world.” The alternative to this “fallen” state is “life in Christ,” which is true and “natural” human life — the gift of God bestowed in the mystery of the Church. “Baptism,” writes Nicholas Cabasilas, “is nothing else but to be born according to Christ and to receive our very being and nature.” ¹¹

The emphasis in both the rite of baptism and the theological commentaries of the Byzantine period is on the positive meaning of baptism as “new birth.” “The salutary day of Baptism,” Cabasilas continues, “becomes a name day to Christians because then they are formed and shaped, and our shapeless and undefined life receives shape and definition.”¹² Again according to Cabasilas, all the scriptural and traditional designations of baptism point to the same positive meaning: “‘Birth’ and ‘new birth,’ ‘refashioning’ and ‘seal’ — as well as ‘baptism,’ ‘clothing,’ and ‘anointing’ — ‘gift,’ ‘enlightening,’ and ‘washing’ — all signify this one thing: that the rite is the beginning of existence for those who are and live in accordance with God.”¹³

Considering baptism as “new birth” implies also that it is a free gift from God and is in no sense dependent upon human choice, consent, or even consciousness: “Just as in the case of physical birth we do not even contribute willingness to all the blessings derived from baptism.”¹⁴ In the East, therefore, there was never any serious doubt or controversy about the legitimacy of infant baptism. This legitimacy was based not on the idea of a “sin” which would have made even the infant guilty in the eyes of God and in need of baptism as justification but on the fact that at all stages of life, including infancy, man needs to be “born anew” — i.e. to begin a new and eternal life in Christ. The ultimate eschatological goal of new life cannot be fully comprehended even by the “conscious adult.”

Just as it is not possible to understand the power of the eyes or the grace of colour without light, or for those who sleep to learn the affairs of those who stay awake while they are yet asleep, in the same way in this life, it is not possible to understand the new members and their faculties which are directed solely to the life to come... Yet we are members of Christ, and this is the result of baptism. The splendour and beauty of the members consists in the Head, for the members would not appear to be beautiful unless they are attached to the Head. Of these members the Head will be hidden in the present life but will be clearly apparent when they shine forth together with the Head.¹⁵

Since he is a member of the Body of Christ through baptism, man again becomes “theocentric” — that is he recovers his original destiny, which is eschatological and mysterious because it participates in the very mystery of God. As a divine gift whether bestowed upon an adult or an infant, baptism is the beginning of new life. As Theodoret of Cyrus writes,

If the only meaning of baptism were remission of sins, why would we baptize newborn children who have not yet tasted of sin? But the mystery of baptism is not limited to this; it is a promise of greater and more perfect gifts. In it, there are the promises of future delights; it is the type of the future resurrection, a communion with the master’s Passion, a participation in His Resurrection, a mantle of salvation, a tunic of gladness, a garment of light, or rather it is light itself.¹⁶

As a “beginning” and a promise of new life, baptism implies free self-determination and growth. It does not suppress human freedom but restores it to its original and “natural” form. In the case of infant baptism, this restoration is, of course, only potential, but the sacrament always implies a call to freedom. In the Byzantine tradition, the formula of baptism is not pronounced as in the West in the name of the minister who performs the sacrament (“I baptize you”) but is a solemn declaration on behalf of the baptized: “The servant of God, N, is baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” “This,” writes Symeon of Thessalonica, “signifies the freedom of the baptized.”¹⁷ After baptism, the way toward God is a “synergy” of God’s power and free human effort. It is also a liberation from the bonds of Satan — the tyrant and the usurper — signified by the exorcisms which precede the sacrament of baptism itself.¹⁸

The Byzantine tradition has retained the ancient Christian practice of baptism through triple immersion. Actually, immersion was sometimes considered essential to the validity of the sacrament, and some extreme anti-Latin polemicists questioned the effectiveness of Western baptism on the grounds that it was performed by sprinkling. Immersion is indeed the very sign of what baptism means: “The water destroys the one life but shows forth the other; it drowns the old man and raises the new,” writes Cabasilas.¹⁹ “Drowning” cannot be meaningfully signified other than through immersion.

To the man liberated through baptism from servitude to Satan, the Spirit bestows the faculty of “being active in spiritual energies,” according to another expression of Cabasilas’.²⁰ We have already seen that Byzantine patristic theology recognized a connection between the gifts of the Spirit and human freedom; redemption of humanity implies that not only human “nature” but also each man, freely and personally, will find his place in the new creation “recapitulated” in Christ. The gift of the Spirit in chrismation is the main sacramental sign of this particular dimension of salvation, which is, according to the liturgical norm, inseparable from baptism. Thus, the “life in Christ” and “life in the Spirit” are not two separate forms of spirituality; they are complementary aspects of the same road leading toward eschatological “deification.”

Normally united with baptism in a single rite of Christian initiation, chrismation is celebrated separately only in cases of reconciliation to the Church of certain categories of heretics and schismatics enumerated in Canon 95 of the Council in Trullo. Its significance, then, is to validate through “the seal of the gift of the Holy Spirit” (the formula pronounced by the priest during the anointing), a Christian baptism performed in irregular circumstances — i.e., outside the canonical boundaries of the Church.

Penance.

Sacramental penance — i.e., reconciliation to the Church after sins committed after baptism — has had a parallel development in East and West. Originally, a public act, required from sinners who either had been officially excommunicated or had performed acts liable to excommunication, penance, gradually and especially after the fourth century, took the form of private confession, followed by a prayer of absolution pronounced by a priest. It then identified itself almost completely with the practice of private spiritual direction, especially widespread in monastic communities.

The development of penitential practice and theology in the Byzantine world was distinct from its Western counterpart in that it never knew the influence of legalistic interpretations of salvation, such as the Anselmian doctrine of “satisfaction,” and never faced a crisis comparable to the Western Reformation and Counter-Reformation with the latter’s stress on clerical authority.

Patristic and Byzantine literature on repentance is almost entirely ascetical and moral. Very few authors of ascetical treatises on repentance specifically mention sacramental absolution as a formal requirement. This silence does not imply that sacramental repentance did not exist; except cases of formal excommunication which had to be followed by an equally formal reconciliation, it was only encouraged but not required. In his innumerable calls to repentance, Chrysostom frequently mentions “confession,” i.e., an opening of one’s conscience before a witness or “the Church;” but regular sacramental confession does not seem to be meant. In his nine sermons specifically dealing with “repentance” only once, he does refer to the Church as a direct recourse: “Did you commit sin? Enter the Church and repent for your sin... You are an old man, and still you commit sin? Enter [the Church], repent; for here is the physician, not the judge; here one is not investigated, one receives remission of sins.”²¹

A French ecclesiastical historian is probably correct when he writes, “The Byzantines seldom go to confession, at least in the secular world, for in the monasteries... confession is regularly practiced. But is this confession, or is it a direction of conscience of simple laymen by their spiritual fathers? Both practices exist and in the monasteries are indistinguishable from one another.”²²

Ascetical and canonical literature frequently mentions penitential requirements — periods of excommunication, prostrations, and charitable works required as retribution for sins committed and confessed; but except in case of “mortal” sins — murder, apostasy, adultery — followed by formal excommunication, it is nowhere evident that a priest’s absolution is necessary to seal the act of repentance. On the contrary, numerous sources describe absolutions given by non-ordained monks,²³ a practice which has survived in Eastern monasteries until our own day.

The various forms of absolution found in Byzantine — euchologia and the penitentials^{24 —} all have the form of prayer: “In the East,” writes A. Almazov, “it was always understood that absolution is expressed through prayer; and even if a declaratory formula is being used, it implies that remission of sins is attributed to God Himself.”²⁵ Declaratory formulas (“I, an unworthy priest..., forgive and absolve...”) which crept into some euchologia, Greek and Slavic are all of post-Scholastic Latin origin and have been adopted within the framework of a general Latinization of the Byzantine rite.

Byzantine theologians themselves were hesitant about the exact status of penance among the mysteria of the Church and often listed it with either monastic tonsure or anointing of the sick. By the fifteenth century however private confession to a priest, followed by a prayer of remission, was a generally accepted practice among laymen with confession to lay monks existing as an alternative in monasteries. This lack of clarity in both theology and practice had a positive implication: confession and penance were interpreted primarily as a form of spiritual healing, for sin itself in Eastern Christian anthropology is primarily a disease, “passion.” Without denying the Petrine privilege of the keys transmitted to all the bishops or the apostolic power to remit sins of which the Church is bearer, Byzantine theologians have never succumbed to the temptation of reducing sin to the no-don of a legal crime, which is to be sentenced, punished, or forgiven; yet they were aware that the sinner is primarily a prisoner of Satan and as such mortally sick. For this reason, confession and penance — at least ideally — preserved the character of liberation and healing rather than that of judgment; hence, there are the great variety of forms and practices and the impossibility of confining them within static theological categories.

Marriage.

The Byzantine theological, liturgical, and canonical tradition unanimously stresses the absolute uniqueness of Christian marriage and bases this emphasis upon the teaching of Ephesians 5. As a sacrament, or mysterion, marriage reflects the union between Christ and the Church, between Yahweh and Israel and as such can be only one — an eternal bond which death itself does not destroy. In its sacramental nature, marriage transfigures and transcends both fleshly union and contractual legal association: human love is being projected into the eternal Kingdom of God.

Only this basic understanding of Christian marriage can explain the fact that until the tenth century no second marriage — whether of those widowed or of those divorced — was blessed in church. Referring to the custom of “crowning” the bridal pair, a feature of the Byzantine rite of marriage, a canon attributed to Nicephorus the Confessor (806-815) specifies: “Those who enter a second marriage are not crowned and are not admitted to receive the most pure mysteries for two years; those who enter a third marriage are excommunicated for five years.”²⁶ This text, which merely repeats the earlier prescriptions of the canons of Basil,²⁷ presupposes that second and third marriages of those widowed or divorced can be concluded as civil contracts only. Actually, since the marriage blessing was normally given at a Eucharist where the bridal pair received communion, the required temporary excommunication excluded the Church’s participation or blessing in cases when marriage was repeated.

Absolute uniqueness as the norm of Christian marriage is also affirmed in the fact that in Byzantine canon law it is strictly required from clergy; a man who was married twice or married to a widow or a divorcee is not eligible for ordination to the diaconate or to the priesthood.²⁸ But laymen after a period of penitence and abstention from the sacraments are re-admitted to full communion with the Church even after a second or third marriage; understanding and toleration is extended to them when they cannot agree to remaining single or would like to have a second chance to build up a true Christian marriage. Obviously, Byzantine tradition approaches the problem of remarriage — after widowhood or divorce — in terms of penitential discipline. Marriage as a sacrament implies the bestowing of God’s grace; but this grace, to be effective, requires human cooperation (“synergy”). This is true of all the sacraments but particularly of baptism whose fruits can be dispersed through sin and then restored through repentance. In the case of marriage, which presupposes personal understanding and psychological adjustment, Byzantine tradition accepts the possibility of an initial mistake as well as the fact that single life in cases of death or the simple absence of the partner is a greater evil than remarriage for those who cannot “bear” it.

The possibility of divorce remained an integral part of Byzantine civil legislation at all times. In the framework of the “symphony” between Church and state, it was never challenged a fact which cannot be explained simply by reference to caesaropapism. The Byzantine Church never lacked saints who were ready to castigate imperial despotism, social injustice, and other evils contrary to the Gospel. John Chrysostom (398-404), Theodore the Studite († 820), or Patriarch Polyeuktos (956-970) were able to challenge the power of the state without fear; none of them however protested against the legislation concerning divorce. Obviously, they consider it as an inevitable factor of human life in the fallen world where man can accept grace and refuse it; where sin is inevitable but repentance always accessible; where the Church’s function is never to compromise the norms of the Gospel but to show compassion and mercy to human weakness.

This attitude of the Byzantine Church was clearly maintained as long as the primary function of the Church (to make the Kingdom of God present in man’s life) and that of the state (to manage fallen humanity by choosing the lesser evil and maintaining order through legal means) remained clearly distinct. In the question of marriage, this essential distinction disappeared (at least in practice) when Emperor Leo VI († 912) published his Novella 89 formally giving the Church the legal obligation to validate all marriages.²⁹ Civil marriage disappeared as a legal possibility for free citizens; and soon, quite logically, Alexis I Comnenus would also make church marriage an obligation for slaves. By these imperial acts the Church theoretically gained formal control over the marriage discipline of all citizens. In fact, however, it began to be directly responsible for all the inevitable compromises, which had been solved so far by the possibility of civil marriage and divorce, and lost the possibility of applying its early penitential discipline. If the Church now gave legal authority to marriage, it had also to resolve the legal difficulties involved in this new responsibility. Indeed, it began to “grant divorces” (which were previously granted by secular courts alone) and to allow “remarriage” in church, because without such “remarriages” second and third unions were legally invalid. It succeeded in making a fourth marriage totally illegal (Council of 920)³⁰ but had to compromise on many other counts.

It maintained however at least in principle an essential distinction between the first and the following marriages: a special service was introduced for the latter, dissociated from the Eucharist and penitential in character. It was understood therefore that second and third marriages were not the norm, and as such were deficient sacramentally. The most striking difference between the Byzantine theology of marriage and its Medieval Latin counterpart is that the Byzantines strongly emphasized the unicity of Christian marriage and the eternity of the marriage bond; they never considered that Christian marriage was a legal contract, automatically dissolved by the death of one of the partners. Remarriage of the widowed was only tolerated by them, as was the remarriage of the divorced. But this “toleration” did not mean approval. It implied repentance, and remarriage was allowed only to those men or women whose previous marriages could be considered as non-existent in practice (the various imperial codes listed the cases). Meanwhile, the Latin West became legalistically intolerant toward divorce while admitting without limitation any number of remarriages after widowhood. Guided in its practice by the legal notion of contract, marriage indissoluble as long as both parties were alive; the West seemed to ignore the idea that marriage — if it was a sacrament — had to be projected as an eternal bond into the Kingdom of God; that like all sacraments marriage requires a free response and implies the possibility of human rejection and human mistake; and that, after such a sinful rejection or human mistake, repentance always allows a new beginning. This is the theological basis for the toleration of divorce in the early Christian Church as well as in Byzantium.

Healing and Death.

Frequently associated with penance as a single sacrament, the office of “holy unction” did not evolve into “extreme unction” for the dying. The sacrament was always performed for the healing of a sick person. In Byzantium, it involved the concelebration of several priests, usually seven in accordance with James 5:14, a text considered to be the scriptural foundation of the sacrament. It was composed of scriptural readings and prayers of healing, the texts of which definitely exclude the possibility of giving a magic interpretation to the rite; healing is requested only in a framework of repentance and spiritual salvation and not as an end in itself. Whatever the outcome of the disease, the anointing symbolizes divine pardon and liberation from the vicious cycle of sin, suffering, and death in which fallen humanity is held captive. Compassionate to human suffering assembled together to pray for its suffering member, the Church through its presbyters asks for relief, forgiveness, and eternal freedom. This is the meaning of holy unction.

The funeral service has no particular significance. Even in death, the Christian remains a member of the living and resurrected Body of Christ into which he has been incorporated through baptism and the Eucharist. Through the funeral service, the Church gathers to bear witness to this fact visible only to the eyes of faith but already experienced by every Christian who possesses the awesome privilege of living in the future Kingdom by anticipation.

Notes

1. Cabasilas, De vita in Chrisio, I, 3; PG 150:496D.

2. Sec, for example, Chrysostom, Horn. 7,1 in I Cor.; PG 61:55.

3. Chrysostom, Catècheses baptismales, ed. A. Wenger, Sources Chrcucnna 50 (Paris: Cerf, 1957), II, 17, p. 143.

4. Ep. II, 165; PG 99:1524B.

5. G. M. Jugie, Thcologia dogmatic a Christianorum orientalium, III (Paris, 1930), p. 16.

6. Quoted by M. Jugie, ibid., pp. 17-18.

7. De sacramentis, 52; PG 155:197A.

8. Responsa canonica, ed. A. I. Almazov (Odessa, 1903), p. 38.

9. Hom. 60, cd. S. Oikonomos (Athens, 1860), p. 250.

10. De sacramentis, 43; PG 155:188A,

11. De vita in Chrislo, II, 3; PG 150:524A.

12. Ibid., 4, 525A.

13. Ibid., 524C.

14. Ibid., 5, 525D.

15. Ibid., 22:548BC.

16. Haeret. jabul. compendium 5, 18; PG 83:512.

17. De sacramentis, 64; PG 155:228B-229B. Sec also Manuel of Corinth, Apology 7; PG 140:480.

18. Nicholas Cabasilas, loc. cit., 6:528B.

19. Ibid., 9:532u.

20. Ibid., III, 1; 569A.

21. De penitentia, III, 1; PG 49:292.

22. J. Pargoire, L’Eglise byzantine de 527 á 847 (Paris: Lecoffre, 1932), p. 347.

23. Ibid., p. 348.

24. The earliest available manuscripts are of the tenth century. By far the best collection of penitential rites, in Greek and Slavic versions, is found in A. Almazov, Tainaia Ispoved’ ν pravoslavnoi vostochnoi tserkvi III (Odessa, 1894).

25. Op. cit., I, pp. 149-150.

26 Canon 2, in Syntagma Canonum IV, edd. G. Rhalles and M. Potles (Athens, 1854), p. 457. On the discipline of marriage in the Byzantine Church, see mainly J. Zh is Km an, Das Eherecht der orientalischen Kirche (Vienna, 1864); K. Ritzcr, Le manage dans les églises Chretiennes du I** au XI* siècle (Paris: Ccrf, 1970), pp. 163-213; and J. Mcyendorrr, Marriage: An Orthodox Perspective (New York: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1971).

27. Particularly canons 4 and 50 in Rhalles-Potles, Op. cit., pp. 102 and 203.

28. Quinisext Council, canon 3, ibid.t II, pp. 312-314.

29. Les novelles de Leon VI, le Sage, ed. A. Dain (Paris: Belles Lettrcs, 1944), pp. 294-297.

30. Rhalles-Potles, Op. cit., V, pp. 4-10.

The Eucharist.

Formal conservatism was one of the predominant features of Byzantine civilization, affecting both the secular and the sacred aspects of life, and the forms of the liturgy in particular. But if the avowed intention was to preserve things as they were, if the basic structures of the Eucharistic liturgy had not been modified since the early centuries of Christianity and even today retain the forms which they acquired in the ninth century, the interpretation of words and gestures was subject to substantial change and evolution. Thus, Byzantine ritual conservatism was instrumental in preserving the original Christian lex orandi often reinterpreted otherwise in the context of a Platonizing or moralizing symbolism though it also allowed in due time — especially with Nicholas Cabasilas and the Hesychast theologians of the fourteenth century — a strong reaffirmation of the original sacramental realism in liturgical theology.

Date: 2016-01-14; view: 589