Orthodox Reflections

By Walt Garlington, an Orthodox Christian living in Dixieland.  His writings have appeared on several web sites, and he maintains a site of his own, Confiteri: A Southern Perspective.

As the West drifted further and further away from the Orthodox Church after the Great Schism, it was natural that the old models of sanctity would be rejected and new ones would take their place. Francis of Assisi retains his hold on the Western soul largely because he is the archetype of post-Orthodox Western saintliness.

Roman Catholic Italy provides an illustration of this, as her government has introduced a proposal to reinstate a national holiday in his honor.

That is to be expected. What is not expected is to see a prominent Orthodox writer from the US promoting the cult of Francis:

I went into the crypt and prayed at Francis’s tomb. Yes, I know he’s a Catholic saint, not one of our Orthodox ones. I don’t care. That man knew the Lord.

This is how heresies are born, folks, when someone puts his personal opinion above the consensus of the Orthodox Church.

But what does the Orthodox Church have to say about Francis of Assisi? Fr Seraphim Rose, who diligently strove to acquire the mind of the Holy Fathers of the Church, gives a good indication in his Orthodox Survival Course.

The first thing to note, says Fr Seraphim, is the discontinuity of Francis with Orthodox Tradition:

So we’ve seen in the Middle Ages the rationalism, logicalness, replacing faith or taking over and shaping now faith, becoming the criteria, romantic elements entering in. And now we come to a very important one which is maybe even more important than Scholasticism, because in the end this will do more to bring about Antichrist than Scholasticism. This is the concept of sanctity which becomes now different from the Orthodox concept of sanctity. And the best example of this is the life of Francis of Assisi.

The fact that this man became so popular, in fact, tremendously popular wherever he went, people went around, acted like Christ Himself coming to them; and they sang and accompanied him. He aroused great enthusiasm, which shows that he was very much in the spirit of his times. But if we look at his life, we see that it is so strange from the Orthodox point of view; and we can say that it’s not at all an Orthodox Life of a Saint.

For one thing, he founded a new manner of life. He invented the rule of poverty because in church one day the Gospel was being preached about poverty, about the Apostles not taking anything with them when they preached, although later on, of course, the Apostles did take with them money and so forth. The first time they went out they went by two’s to the cities preaching to the Jews and took nothing with them. And he heard this in church and became inspired to invent a new rule, a new way of life, a rule of poverty based on the Gospel, as though there was no monastic tradition before him, which there was. And there were many great Saints at this time.

Of course, he could look around, perhaps the monasteries were corrupt and so forth, and he wanted something different. But there’s something already suspicious to think he’s going to do something new, a whole new rule of life, based not on Holy Fathers. And if he didn’t like the recent Latin Fathers, he could have gone back to St. John Cassian, the Egyptian Fathers and so forth, but he didn’t. He went instead to the Gospel, like the Protestants. He went and invented himself a rule of poverty. Nothing special, of course — monks are poor– but he made something special out of it, just as later we’ll see that the Catholics are making something special about the Mother of God as though she’s some kind of unearthly being and so forth.

And he gave it and himself and his followers new names. They were not now to be called just monks, they were the “Penitents of Assisi,” or the ‘Lord’s Minstrels,’ they called themselves, going about singing. So already we see that they think they’re not like previous monks and ascetics, but something new, a new spirit which is very much in accord with the spirit of the times.

There was a time, on Christmas in the year 1223, he decided to celebrate the Nativity in a new manner. And so he reproduced in the church were he was in Italy the stable of Bethlehem. And thus began the so-called devotion to the crib in the Latin Church and around this he had some kind of a play which is beginning of the mystery plays in Italy — and helping thus the rise of the drama. And the drama of course is something which, although it arose from this very same thing, we’re not going to talk about that. The mystery play, which comes from the Liturgy actually, was centered around the Mass and religious themes, and are an adaptation to the new spirit of the times to make religion more interesting, more in accordance with everyday life, more close to the believers, as though Orthodoxy is not enough.

Next, he reveals Francis’s false humility:

And a very typical example of something new which is not at all Orthodox is what happened once when he was sick. He ate meat. And an Orthodox person who isn’t a monk maybe might eat meat during sickness or something. If he did he would feel repentant about it, ask God’s forgiveness, and feel that “I’m no good anyway,” and ask that if He would, God forgive him. But not Francis of Assisi. Instead, he went out to preach to the people. There was a large crowd, thousands of people as usual, and he said, “Stop. Everyone stay here until I come back.” And he went to the church nearby, and he forced two of his disciples to do whatever he told them out of obedience. One of them poured over his head ashes, a bucket full of ashes; the second put a rope around his neck and led him out before the people who were all waiting to see what’s going to happen. And here comes Francis of Assisi led by a rope with ashes on his black head, and he looks at them and says, “You consider me a saint, but I ate meat when I was sick.”

By this, he’s making a public display that “I am really supposed to be very holy, and if I made a mistake I got to make up for it so they’ll still think I’m holy.” So we see that he’s already playing the role of a holy man who must appear before the people as pure, whereas a genuine holy man would repent, and it’s all the better if people think he’s bad or evil.

Fr. H: Well, here’s a good example: the general fools for Christ’s sake, they do exactly the opposite. They act crazy in order to be put down…

Fr. S: And of course, the people who are already having new ideas about sanctity say, “Oh, how humble this man is!” And actually there is fake humility; this is not humility. And in fact the key to his sanctity is pride. He is conscious of himself as being a holy man. He said, “I do not see in myself any sin which I have not expiated by confession and repentance. For the Lord in His mercy has presented me the gift of clearly recognizing at prayer that in which I have been pleasing to Him and that in which I have not been pleasing,” that is, spiritual self-satisfaction.12 “I’m holy; I’ve sinned but I’ve made up for them by a certain number of penances, and making myself, dragging myself before the people, and now I know that I am pure.”

And we can contrast this with any number of Lives of Orthodox Saints, for example, St. Sisoes, who was preparing to die and then lived for a short time longer because, when his disciples asked him, “Why are you coming back?” He said, “An angel told me I was not ready; I must repent even more.” He’s supposed to have lived a holy life, and he said, “I have tried all my life to please God, and now at the end I do not know whether I have pleased Him or not.” And Francis knows that he pleased God. This is the spirit already of the Pharisee.

At his death-bed Francis says, “Behold, God calls me, and I forgive all my brothers both present and absent their offenses and errors, and I remit their sins in so far as this is in my power.” He was not a priest, so even in that indirect sense, he had no power; that is, he had some kind of recognizing in himself the power of sanctity by which he can remit the sins of people, which is totally un-Orthodox. And his last words were, “I have done what I had to do. I return to God. May He have mercy on you.” That is, “I’m perfect; I’ve done it, I’m finished, I’m perfectly justified.”

The culmination of Fr Seraphim’s talk on Francis is about his spiritual delusion:

Again, there is a very interesting thing which happened to him when he received the stigmata, which is the marks of the wounds of Christ, five marks in the hands, in the side, the feet. Before receiving this, which in the Catholic Church is accepted as a real sign of a saint, he prayed that he might suffer what Christ suffered in soul and body and, quote, “that I might as much as possible feel with all my being that limitless love with which Thou didst burn, O Son of God, and which caused Thee to endure so many torments for us sinners.”

This is a brazenness which is unheard of in true Saints: that they want to have God’s love itself, and they want to suffer what He suffered feeling the flesh. This is not spiritual striving. This is a search for bodily sensations and the great pride he felt at wishing to feel the very feelings of God. And you can contrast this with any — Christ does appear to saints. He appeared to St. Seraphim as he was serving as a deacon in church, and St. Seraphim did not pray, “manifest yourself to me,” or “make me feel what You felt.” He was praying in church; Christ appeared to him. And he did not even want to speak about it.

And then when he [Francis] received the stigmata there was a vision of a seraphim with Christ crucified superimposed on it, which came to him and which we’ll show you in one of their icons of this, shoots out rays, sun rays and gives him the stigmata. And at this time, according to his Life, Francis felt himself totally transformed into Jesus, which is blasphemy. That is the root of the whole of Catholic spirituality: this sweetness that Jesus is approaching, “I am all one with Him and He’s with me” — all this is prelest.

And later, sure enough, his disciples call him the “new Christ.” In one life, it even says, which Ignatius Brianchaninov likes to quote, that when Francis died and was lifted to heaven, God beholding him did not know who was greater, Francis or His own Son.

. . . This is what we call a deceived person. This would be a classical example of a person who is living in prelest.

From the Orthodox perspective, Francis of Assisi is not a reliable spiritual guide. His ‘new spirituality’ is to be very much avoided.

All of this is again illustrative of the chasm that exists between Roman Catholicism and the Orthodox Church. The Orthodox can befriend individual Roman Catholics, admiring their good traits and participating with them in various good endeavors and events, as the Orthodox in Milan, Italy, are doing, for instance.

But the Orthodox should never trust in the goodwill of the Vatican. The latter has always sought the eradication, one way or another, by force or by fraud, of the Orthodox Church. The next great war that will break out in the world, which will take place mainly in Turkey, will offer everyone another striking reminder of the Vatican’s hatred for the Orthodox. The renowned elder Joseph of Vatopedi, a disciple of St Joseph the Hesychast, related this in 2001:

J.: This is the beginning of these events, troublesome events, military ones… The movers and shakers of this evil are the Jews. They are being prompted to do this by the devil, in order to start this,… in order to destroy the seed of Orthodoxy in Greece and in Russia. This will be their chief obstacle to world domination. And they nevertheless will compel the Turks to come here, to Greece, in order to begin their work; and Greece, although she has a government, does not, in reality, have a government, as such. She lacks strength, and the Turks will come here. This will be the moment when Russia, too, will move her forces, in order to repel the Turks. Events will develop thus: when Russia goes to Greece’s aid, the Americans and NATO will attempt to prevent this, in order that there might be no union, no merger, between two Orthodox nations. They will also arouse other powers, such as the Japanese and others. There will be great slaughter upon the territory of the former Byzantine Empire. Of those who perish, there will be some 600 million, alone. The Vatican will also participate greatly in all this, in order to impede the growing role of Orthodoxy and prevent such unification. Thus will Divine providence find its fulfillment (bolding added—W.G.).

Unfortunately, this is the real spirit of Francis of Assisi: The ‘New Christianity’ that he helped to shape (Roman Catholicism, and its ‘reformed’ version of Protestantism) will always be at pains to cleanse the world of the ‘old and obsolete Christianity’ (the Orthodox Church).

The typical sanitized version of Francis that is peddled to the masses does look very attractive. Thus, even Protestant Anglicans have a feast day in his honor (4 Oct.) and some Orthodox (beyond the one above) think him a saint.

One of the things that attracts Westerners to Francis is his fondness for nature and animals and his kindness to other people (particularly the sick, the poor, etc.). Mankind has a primordial memory of Paradise, and such stories strike that chord. But tragically, Roman Catholicism (and Protestantism) have lost sight of salvation as theosis, as union with God, transforming it into a legalistic act that placates an angry Father rather than changing us, renewing the lost innocence and holiness that we had in the Garden of Eden – and exceeding it through cooperation with Christ and the Holy Ghost.

Just a few pictures of Orthodox monastics living in harmony with the animal kingdom. For Roman Catholics, Francis of Assisi is something of an outlier. For Orthodoxy, kindness to the created order of God (both human and animal) is so normal, we sometimes forget how remarkable it is in a sinful, fallen world. 

Francis is one of the few figures in the post-Orthodox West that bears even a slight resemblance to humanity’s first parents before the Fall or to the many Orthodox saints throughout Church history who have regained the ‘fragrance of Paradise’ and have lived in peace with wild animals and compassionately towards other men and women. Thus, they cling to Francis as their last living memory of such times and people. But they needn’t do that. All that is necessary is for them to step back into the Orthodox world where we often refresh ourselves with the lives of Saints of this kind, and where also these things are still an ongoing reality.

Let them read of St Zosimas (+circa 4^th century):

Dometian, a Sicilian prince, went hunting in the mountains with his servants. There he saw an old man surrounded by wild beasts as tame as lambs. Asked who and what he was, the elder replied that his name was Zosimas, that he was a Christian, and that he had lived long among the wild beasts, who were better than those who lived in the city and tortured Christians. This offended Dometian, who was himself a cruel persecutor of Christians. He chained Zosimas and sent him ahead to Nazareth, as he especially wanted to torture him there, to intimidate those who believed in Christ. When Dometian had wounded and bloodied Zosimas with blows, he tied a stone around his neck and suspended him from a tree. Then the prince mocked him, saying: “Command that a wild beast come forth so that we may all believe!” The holy martyr prayed to God, and, indeed, an enormous lion appeared, drew near to Zosimas, and placed his head under the stone to alleviate the martyr’s suffering. In great fear, the prince freed Zosimas, but the latter soon rendered his spirit into the hands of his Lord.

Let them know of St Edith of Wilton, England (+10^th century), whose life resembles Francis’s in several particulars, except without his bizarre tendencies:

What is known for certain is that St. Edith spent all her short life at the convent and her sainthood was revealed even from childhood. Wilfrida raised her at the convent in piety and away from any temptations of this world. King Edgar supported and endowed the convent for many years until his death. St. Edith took monastic vows at the age of fifteen at Wilton. According to her Life, Edith always observed strict fasting and abstinence, combining a life of prayer with a life of activity. She fed the hungry and strangers, clothed the naked, and took care of the sick. From a very young age she was known for her wisdom, her physical and spiritual beauty, and her angelic voice, and was loved by many for her generosity and close association with animals. It was related that many presented her with domestic and wild animals as gifts and the saint kept them separately within the convent. She used to feed deer and doves from her hand.

St. Edith insisted that a hospital be opened at the convent where the poor and destitute would receive treatment and care. The holy nun preferred the company of lepers and outcasts to that of princes and nobles, meanwhile giving bread, alms and shelter to all who asked for it at any time. The saint even had a habit of washing her fellow sisters’ stockings at nights, thus serving her neighbors all day long. The holy virgin Edith also obtained a very good education at the nunnery; she was very skillful and had many talents (thus, she embroidered an alb, or sticharion, with gold and pearls). She had a large library and most probably excelled in illuminating manuscripts. St. Edith was offered the throne more than once, especially after the martyrdom of her half-brother, St. Edward the Passion-Bearer, but the maiden of God declined each time, choosing to dedicate her life to God entirely instead of having worldly power. Likewise, the saint was offered the abbacy of three different convents at different times, but she humbly refused, preferring to lead the life of a simple nun until her death.

Let them meet once again St John the Merciful of Alexandria (+7^th century), who was full of compassion for the poor, the sick, the suffering, and even his enemies.

Twice during the week, on Wednesdays and Fridays, St John the Merciful emerged from the doors of the patriarchal cathedral, and sitting on the church portico, he received everyone in need. He settled quarrels, helped the wronged, and distributed alms. Three times a week he visited the sick-houses, and rendered assistance to the suffering.

Let them befriend St Eumenios (+1999), who served lepers all his adult life:

After many medical examinations, a doctor told him: “Listen, Soldier Saridakis, the police and health service must come immediately and take you to Athens because you have contracted Hansen’s disease, leprosy.”

Upon hearing this unpleasant news, he said: “Are you serious, doctor? I have leprosy? Will I bear this great cross?” “Yes,” replied the doctor. And out of joy, Constantine fell out of bed.

When asked later why he was so happy, the Elder explained: “Because when God sends you a great illness, it means it is a great cross. And if you endure it, with God’s power, a great cross brings a great resurrection! When I was diagnosed with Hansen’s disease, I prayed and said: ‘My God, I am not worthy to bear such a great cross! Do you love me so much? Thank you very much! Just help me to endure it!’”

“I suffered! But as much as I suffered with my body, my heart rejoiced!” confessed the venerable one.

Thus, in 1957, Evmenios was transferred to the leprosy hospital in Athens. Since a suitable remedy for leprosy had been discovered in 1947, which he was diagnosed with in time, he gradually recovered. Nevertheless, he remained at the leprosy hospital to serve the lepers.

In 1975, the forty-four-year-old monk was ordained a priest with the name Eumenios and became the father confessor to the leprosy hospital, which became a hospital for acute infections.

The West unnecessarily impoverishes herself by focusing myopically on Francis of Assisi, whose sanctity is questionable, as another analysis shows. But as long as she stubbornly resists the calls to repent and rejoin the Orthodox Church, Francis will continue to be her ideal saint and main emphasis, standard-bearer of the New Deformed Christianity of the post-Schism West.