“Reaping with Joy”: IOCS at 25

The Very Revd Dr John Jillions is one of the founders and the first Principal of IOCS (1997-2003). He now serves as a Visiting Professor and a member of the Board of Directors. He has degrees from McGill University (BA), St Vladimir’s Seminary (MDiv, DMin), and Aristotle University of Thessaloniki (PhD). From 2003 to 2012 he taught at the Sheptytsky Institute for Eastern Christian Studies, Saint Paul University, and the University of Ottawa. Subsequently he was Chancellor of the Orthodox Church in America (2011-2018), taught at St Vladimir’s Seminary as Associate Professor of Religion and Culture, and as an adjunct at Fordham University. He is the author of Divine Guidance: Lessons for Today from the World of Early Christianity (Oxford University Press, 2020).  Fr John has been a priest for forty years, serving communities in Australia, Greece, England, Canada, and the US. He is Vice-President of the Orthodox Theological Society in America.

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Wednesday, November 19, 1997

I’m waiting to hear what the CTF Council decided last evening about the CISOC project. Yesterday, at the Tyndale chapel service, I was struck by the reading, Phil 4, exactly what the proposal was built around. Today’s gospel (Luke 14:25-38) makes it clear that there are to be no half measures or remnants of self-dependence. All is to go on the altar, and we are to put all confidence in Christ. No holding back for “my own.”

Saturday, November 22, 1997. Vilemov, Czech Republic.

I’m sitting in my room at a conference center in Vilemov. I’m here for a small European  conference on lay academies but I have a chance now to catch up on Institute developments.

I was still in Cambridge yesterday working at Tyndale House. I called John Proctor, president of the CTF, to find out the results of their meeting: “gladly welcoming” was the news. They’re appointing Canon Joy Tetley as consultant to our Working Group. As I left Tyndale after the phone call to go and buy a present for Alex’s birthday (a rugby ball), the sky was a sunshiny grey surrounded by edges of blue, with a magnificent rainbow covering the whole sky over Selwyn College. I was happy, and so was Bishop Basil when I called him. It’s funny to hear his enthusiasm. He immediately wanted to know when I would be calling a meeting of the Working Group!

Saturday, December 13, 1997. St Herman of Alaska and repose of Fr Alexander Schmemann.

I am so grateful that I will always be able to remember this day—St Herman, Fr Alexander—the day that the first announcement of the Working Group was sent out. Or rather, the eve. Last night I stayed late at Tyndale House—keeping Anthony waiting to be picked up at St Faith’s—just to finish it all off, the dozen or so letters with their Santa Claus stamp! What a gift all of this has been. And after last night’s dinner at Irina Kirillova’s I feel this especially. A life tailor-made for Deni and me. People: interesting, students, deep people we have the privilege of encountering, like Mary Berry last night at Irina’s. Gregorian chant expert, whose keen sense of the connection between words and music reveals possibilities for a liturgical theology that melds the two. Seeing how ancient chant’s emphases of the different words reveals the theology of the church in a way text alone cannot. She feels her task is one of restoring what has been lost in church life.

Monday, March 9, 1998.

I’m on the train en route to Dunblane, Scotland to lead a retreat. Much to catch up on.

Two weeks ago, on Monday,John Binns and I drove Fr Hilarion (Alfeyev) to Oxford for various appointments. In the meantime, we saw Stephen Platt and had a good conversation with Bishop Basil about the agenda for the meeting of the Working Group on March 26^th. Then I talked to him alone. Later John and I went to the anthropology museum, where I spent a long time looking at the shrunken heads Dn Stephen recommended. We got back in time for a dinner meeting at John’s with Irina Levinskaya (Russian biblical scholar at Tyndale House), Irina Kirillova, and leaders from the Faculty of Divinity: David Ford (Regius Professor), David Thompson (Professor of Modern Church History and Director of the Centre for Advanced Religious and Theological Studies), Eamon Duffy (chairman) and Dan Hardy. There was strong support for the Institute, and a personal vote of confidence from David Ford who said how important it would be for me to remain in Cambridge and to commit to the next five years. John Binns was very pleased with the evening, judging by fact that the crowd didn’t leave till 11. Points to note:

1. It will take time to develop a cadre of Orthodox who are prepared to engage theologically with western theology, and to enable Orthodox to be seen as not entirely sui generis and put reflexively into the “exotic,” “historical,” “patristic,” or “liturgical” baskets.
2. We will need a local base of Orthodox people.

With Fr Hilarion it became clear that links with Cambridge University must go through the Russian Church if they are to bear fruit. This is the main way that the University will be able to acquire credibility in the eyes of the Russian Church. Without that link, the University will be viewed as “liberal” and the long-term result will be to further marginalize the value of western theological education.

I spent rest of that week [Feb 25 and following] preparing for the talk/service at St Demetrius Church in Edmonton, London, where Fr Christos Christakis is the priest. He had heard of the CISOC project and insisted that if it is to have a chance at being pan-Orthodox and of genuine benefit to all Orthodox, then it needs to get the Greek clergy on board. Bishop Kallistos and Fr Ephrem Lash are fine people but marginal to the life of the Greek Archdiocese. I agreed, and after talking with Bishop Basil invited him to be part of the Working Group pending the archbishop’s blessing. There’s no answer on that yet. I was surprised to find that I was staying overnight at the home of Graham and Helen Dixon, who go there to church. Graham had some important comments to make.

• The “Cambridge” name means that the Institute intends to have a wider message than narrowly Orthodox, and a voice to the UK and wider world.
• There needs to be a strong Greek and European voice in the Institute.
• There’s a danger of UK perceptions already seeing the Institute as too dominated by Americans/Sourozh.

Graham emailed me the next Monday and offered his services, and I’m sure he will be very helpful, knowing as he does the UK and European scenes so well. He is also chairman of the BBC’s committee reviewing its policy on religious programming. Bishop Basil saw this as very important and welcomed his participation.

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Wednesday, October 29, 1997

I am sitting on the train at Liverpool Street Station waiting to head home from London. It has been a day to remember. I’ve just come from Thyateira House at 5 Craven Hill Road, where I met with Archbishop Gregorios. I was 5 hours late for my 11 am appointment at 11 am. Despite the events of the day, the archbishop has blessed the project in Cambridge.

I was supposed to go together with Bishop Basil, but he called early in the morning to say he was bedridden with the flu and insisted I go on my own “not to lose momentum.” I was to ask Archbishop Gregorios to bless this project of “a house of study,” or at least to give his go-ahead for the working group to explore it. In the morning, I was at the men’s prayer group at Tyndale House and told them about this impending meeting. They prayed that God would “open the doors that needed opening and close the doors that needed closing.” I thought of that when the train stopped 15 minutes north of London. A fire on the track ahead had destroyed part of the station and we waited almost 4 hours before another train towed us into Kings Cross Station. The passengers were amazingly good humored (“the British in their element,” as someone said).

When I got to the Archdiocese the Archbishop was having a meeting with other bishops, but he knew about the fire and delay and was expecting me. In the meantime, his assistant Fr Isaiah took me downstairs where a kindly yiayia made me a lunch of bean soup, cucumbers, Greek coffee, and cake. By the time I finished, the archbishop was ready to see me.

Archbishop Gregorios asked questions, was thoughtful and positive, and seemed almost as awkward as I felt. But he wasn’t chatty. He spoke quickly and in short sentences. I felt that if anything comes of all this it will be a miracle. I felt it is already. I quickly outlined what we had in mind and told him of the working group. He is cool and collected and takes everything in. He wanted to add Fr Theonas to the committee, saying, “He is young, has time on his hands and can work, and it would be good for him ‘in himself.’”

On working together as Orthodox—is it possible? “Yes, if it’s sound and with the university, and if the churches can keep ‘politics’ out of the way, politics that might put stumbling blocks on the path.” He approved the list of the working group members, but right away asked who the chairman would be. He wanted to be sure that all the churches could send representatives (he mentioned the Serbs specifically). He wanted to know what the university would provide for this venture and emphasized the value of making a small start.

On working with the non-Orthodox: he said this has good and negative features, and he’s not sure which carries the heavier weight. But the distinguishing feature that makes Orthodoxy what it is, he said, is its liturgy, pastoral approach, art as God-bearing, and the commemoration of the saints, the feasts as “alive,” as communion. “The West has lost this living connection with the saints.” I felt like I was talking with a man who had “been there.” I noticed when I walked into his office, he was preparing a letter or a sermon, and had the menaion open on his desk.

He said that the study of languages (Greek, Russian, Arabic) will not only help connect students to the texts of Orthodoxy but will give them a link to the tradition. It also gives students who come from these backgrounds a sense of wholesome pride, and assurance that they are not being neglected. It’s valuable for students to be aware too of the various Orthodox liturgical rubrics. Their training should be together while also having separate specific training to address their own particular situations. He is keen to have people trained as catechists and youth workers. Even if these are not to degree level, some certificate could be given. The important thing is that the real needs of the churches and the bishops could be addressed immediately. He feels very deeply the need to bring the Gospel to people in a language they understand, and for this, trained catechists are needed. He agreed wholeheartedly with Metropolitan Anthony’s conviction that church education must not be strictly academic. “There should be no chasm between church life and education.” He also sees the possibility of a connection with the Oriental Orthodox as worth exploring.

When I asked him about Cambridge—if he had served there, as John Binns had heard—he told me he had founded the Greek Orthodox parish community in Cambridge, in the days when Bishop High Montefiore was the rector of Great St Mary’s. [To my surprise, as I learned later, he had also lived and studied in Cambridge at Wesley House.] He asked about seminaries in the USA and how the Russian churches there were organized. I had been warned that if the archbishop were to say, “I need to check with the Phanar,” then I would know that the meeting had been a failure. But the Phanar never came up. God is at work in all these strange events, this “adventure” as he called it. He wanted to invite Metropolitan Anthony to lunch and was very pleased to find out from me that his 40^th anniversary of consecration as a bishop is coming up on November 30^th, so that an invitation would be just right.

Next steps, after reporting to Bishop Basil and Metropolitan Anthony (with regards to both from Archbishop Gregorios):

• Write to the prospective working group, inviting them to be members
• Respond to the Cambridge Theological Federation
• Send an update to all who responded to the proposal
• Send the proposal to others along with an invitation to comment

[An early summary of the proposal is pictured below. It was circulated in the process of forming a working group to explore development.]

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Wednesday, October 15, 1997

Yesterday (Protection, Old Calendar) I delivered the formal letter to John Proctor requesting that the Cambridge Theological Federation appoint a consultant for the Orthodox Working Group. I had met with him the day before to bring him up to date on developments. Bishop Basil and I will meet with Archbishop Gregorios in a couple weeks at Metropolitan Anthony’s request.

Tuesday, October 21, 1997

Yesterday I gave a lecture at Ridley Hall as part of their 3-year series on spirituality. Students and staff, about 60 people. They were enthusiastic about what was clearly opening a new world for them—Orthodox spirituality—and yet at the same time it was a familiar world they could recognize. One student made this very perceptive comment: “It seems that for the Orthodox, one has to make a conscious decision to step out of spirituality, whereas for the West we decide to step in.” There seemed to be a genuine pleasure in learning about the very basic things of Orthodox prayers, like making the sign of the cross.  

Graham Cray, the Principal of Ridley, had been at the CTF Executive Committee Meeting with John Proctor earlier in the week and told me that the Orthodox project was greeted with enthusiasm, especially by those who were hearing about it for the first time: the principal of Westcott House, Michael Roberts and Brigid Tighe, Principal of the Margaret Beaufort Institute. They realize there will be many small steps but feel it’s the right moment. Again, seeing the group at Ridley I can only agree.

Finally, I wrote a letter yesterday to Metropolitan Herman [Orthodox Church in America] asking for release to Metropolitan Anthony and the Diocese of Sourozh.

Wednesday, October 22, 1997

Deacon Joseph [Skinner] came up to Cambridge yesterday. I took him to Tyndale House for the worship service, then came back for lunch and a long conversation at home. He would not want to see a seminary model of education if what this means is a “hot house” of Orthodoxy taught in isolation from other churches and theology. Students need to know and be exposed to real expressions of other churches, while then being able to evaluate all expressions in the home context of Orthodox church life with their tutors, spiritual fathers, sacramental life. The danger is that among Orthodox there is already too much isolation, unease with people who are different, inability to talk to them, misinformation, suspicion. He rejects the paternalistic seminary model rightly as a sin  of total control —”a western sin,” he said. I feel too that this model places too little trust in the students and in the power of God in their lives. Most of them, after all, will be older converts who’ve made hard choices already. It is not as if the Institute will be able—or ought to—control their thinking in toto.

One of his saddest experiences was hearing of an Orthodox woman in Russia who had become Baptist. She said, “We are told ‘to love God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind.’  But the Orthodox Church will not allow you to love with your mind.” This principle of Orthodox theological education—to be able to use all of ones God given faculties—is “a battle for the soul of Orthodoxy,” he said, “for preserving a view of the world that opens up, rather than shuts down.” Of course there are dangers, but we are living in a pluralistic world and can’t retreat to the ghetto model of Christianity or to the state model with its assumption of the universality of Orthodoxy. It may well be universal, but Orthodoxy must convince people of this not by isolation but by its presence.

As Georges Florovsky said, Orthodox theology needs to become familiar with the theological debates of the West and enter into them with an Orthodox frame of mind. I feel that my education at SVS lacked this exposure. It was too much of a “hot house.” Students at the Institute who come through this exposure will be much stronger in their Orthodox faith and will be much readier to speak of it confidently in the religious marketplace that refuses to go away. Equally, however, Orthodox exposure to other Christians in their day-to-day theological education may also help them learn to recognize what is genuinely good and “of God” out there in the wider world.

Still, we can’t have any illusions. This approach will likely draw fire given the general isolationism of the Orthodox world. But it’s worth defending. Anything less reduces Orthodoxy to just another denomination it claims to transcend. Some will be attracted, others repelled, but no one should be able to easily dismiss this open-ended fulness.

Friday, October 24, 1997. Oxford, two-day meeting of clergy in the Diocese of Sourozh. I had a conversation with Fr Sergei Hackel and Dn Peter Scorer about the situation in Russia. They are not optimistic, especially concerning the right wing, the lack of civilized discussion and debate, and the heavy-handed methods of both state and church.

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Tuesday, September 16, 1997

Yesterday Deni and I were both in London: I in the morning with Metropolitan Anthony and she in the evening for a meeting of the Sourozh Diocesan Conference Committee with Bishop Basil and others (Metropolitan Anthony was there at the beginning). Metropolitan Anthony had said when we were last in London meeting with him and Bishop Basil that he wanted to get to know me better, and could I come to London.

The church was buzzing with activity. Monday is cleaning day at the Cathedral. Metropolitan Anthony came out from his apartment behind the altar, and we went upstairs to the office. It was just the two of us, and for the first time I was struck by his shabbiness, his age. He is still brisk and lively, but he could easily be mistaken for a bum on Skid Row. A polyester (it looked like) black cassock, a worn shirt and sweater underneath with frayed collars. He’s missing several front teeth. He reminded me of St Paul, whose letters were “weighty” but whose presence “was of no account.” I think he might be the first to agree with that. He has no pretense in the least.

He wanted to know first if I was happy in England. He recalled his own “temporary assignment” to England—it was supposed to be two years—and only a few months after he had been ordained in France. He was to be the interim chaplain for the Fellowship of St Alban and St Sergius, but he fell in love with England and stayed. Russia was also in his heart, though it wasn’t until the time of Khrushchev that he could go there for the first time.

I think he was concerned that I get a feel for what he and Diocese of Sourozh have been trying to do. However, he doesn’t like to pressure and insist. I asked him what he wanted most—and least—regarding the training of priests. “What I want least is the merely academic. Priests who cannot translate the life of the Church into language people understand.”  He began speaking of confession. This is the central task to which he has devoted much attention. He said “there’s plenty of material” and cited books on confession by Fr Kyprian Kern, Metropolitan Anthony Khrapovitsky and others, but these can’t be used slavishly. He stressed the need for reality. And no formal lists. “I’m not interested in Dmitry Donskoy’s list of sins, but yours.” Sometimes he has refused absolution, because he wants to get under peoples’ skin and undo their formality. “It’s not enough to say, ‘Ya greshna Batioushka’ [I’m a sinner, Father] and then move on. The priest needs to see that they believe and know how they are sinful.” He has found general confession very beneficial—using his own confession, without scandalizing people—both for the training of the people and for his own opportunity to confess before all (it takes about 30-40 minutes, he said).

He recalled a very personal confession when he was a teenager in Paris. Their very good priest had been taken away by the Germans and the only one who remained was the perpetually drunk Fr Mikhail. “He was the kind of priest who usually had to be propped up in the corner to hear confessions so he wouldn’t fall over. But he stopped drinking when responsibility for the entire parish fell on him.” Metropolitan Anthony was in his teens, and when he went to confession, “Fr Mikhail just wept and wept. ‘You know what I am’ he told me. ‘Don’t become that. You’re still young.’” That left a deep impression, and this absolute commitment to reality stamps all Metropolitan Anthony’s pastoral approach.

He taught pastoral theology for a time in a seminary the Patriarchate of Moscow set up in Paris. “It was a joke! They paid for students to be there.” He focused on confession, preaching, and the celebration of the services. “The services should be celebrated as if you are having a conversation with God.” (And that is precisely the impression I have of his serving, especially at the prayer during the Cherubic Hymn, “No one who is bound with the desires and pleasures of the flesh is worthy…”) Feelings are not be artificially stirred up, he said. “All we need to do is celebrate slowly enough so that the words strike us, so we can say inwardly, ‘Yes, I believe this.’” If God wishes then this can also bring about the feeling of His presence, but that’s not required. “Whatever we’re doing—hearing confession, preaching, celebrating—the aim is to be absolutely real, present, and honest.”

It’s a pity, he said, that students in seminary often do not experience the reality of the words they learn. Hunger, for example. “Most people here [in the Russian Cathedral] have known real hunger.” He did too at one point in his medical studies. “I had to walk 50 yards and then stop. It was either buy required medical books or food.” Yet, after being once to India and coming back to Europe to speak about the distress and poverty he’d seen, a woman came up to him after the lecture and thanked him for his entertaining presentation. “Entertaining?  I hope you put more than 10 shillings in the collection!” He is unwilling to let people remain happily comfortable with their pieties if these are screens to evade reality.

He asked if I would come to the Cathedral twice a month to help out. They have a big need for Russian speaking priests. I asked about the project in Cambridge. Bishop Basil had again insisted last night that it couldn’t go forward without the blessing of Archbishop Gregorios of Thyateira. Metropolitan Anthony said he’s hoping to see Archbishop Gregorios soon.

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Sunday August 31, 1997

Alla [my sister] called from New York. Daria Drillock and her husband Stephen Loposky are in England, were hoping to visit Cambridge, and need a place to stay, so they came up and stayed with us overnight. We had a wonderful visit. I was in Walsingham during the day on Saturday meeting with Bishop Basil and the clergy of East Anglia and spoke publicly for the first time with them about the Cambridge project, the good response it has received, and the offers of help. I saw Stewart and Carolyn Armour for a cup of coffee, then they came down to Cambridge and we had dinner together with Daria and Steve. On Sunday we went for a bike tour of Cambridge before heading up to Ely Cathedral for the service, and were all stunned by the news—which we first heard as the preacher gave his sermon—of Princess Diana’s death.

Saturday, Sept 6, 1997

Princess Diana will be buried today. I have not taken on board the incredible outpouring of feeling in response to her death. And now the news last night that Mother Teresa has died [I met her—with son Andrew who was 11 at the time—at a quiet early morning Mass in the Bronx with just a few of her nuns and some others in April 1994]. As Deni said, the two most important women in the world, both admirers of each other for their work. Mother Teresa was to have a special Mass today for Diana, and there was no judgement about her “lifestyle.” All Mother Teresa saw in Diana was the good fruit of her care for the poor, the sick, the aged, those who suffered because of war. “By their fruits you shall know them.”

My reading today from St John of Kronstadt:

‘A true shepherd and father of his flock will live in their grateful memory even after his death. They will extol him; and the less he cares to be extolled here on earth on account of his zealous labors for their salvation, the more his glory will shine after his death. Even when he is dead, he will make them speak of him. Such is the glory of those who labor for the common good.‘

May God grant that I keep these examples of working selflessly for the common good always before me. Just keep holding on, forgiving, asking forgiveness, always conscious of our weakness yet of God’s faith and his ability to work among and with us. I woke this morning thinking of the words Fr Sergious [Gerken] gave me before I left the US: “Everything has to go on the altar.” Those came back to me as Deni, Alex, Anthony, and I were at Great St Mary’s for the “Service of Thanksgiving and Sorrow” in memory of Princess Diana.

‘Love that stands the test,

That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best.’

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Thursday, August 21, 1997. Oxford.

It has been a memorable week in Oxford at the summer school. A full week with Bishop Kallistos and Andrew Louth team-teaching Saint Basil’s On the Holy Spirit. I’d like to write a lot about the people and events but for now all I have time for is an update about Institute plans.

Bishop Basil met with Bishop Kallistos last Tuesday (Old Calendar Transfiguration) to discuss with him “in general terms” the proposal for Cambridge. Yesterday I gave Bishop Kallistos a copy of the proposal and he right away said in a vigorous way, “Yes, I’m in favour. I’m supportive.” I saw Bishop Basil today and he reported that they had a very good meeting together. Bishop Kallistos admitted that he feels most at home with individual students, not setting up an institution. Of course, he’d thought for years of starting a house of study here in Oxford in connection with the Fellowship of St Alban and St Sergius, but after serving its own purposes for so many years the Fellowship responsible for the buildings here has lost its freshness and pizzaz. Perhaps the best move is to make a new start somewhere else. A recent suggestion to get something like a study center going in Oxford didn’t get much response. Also, Bishop Kallistos recognizes that he’s marginal to the life of the Greek Archdiocese. For example, he really has no idea what’s going on regarding plans to collect funds for establishing a theological college at the 75^th anniversary dinner for the Archdiocese in October. There’s a poster in the church—in Greek—announcing that all “omogeneis” (all Greeks) are invited. It’s probably difficult for Archbishop Gregorios (whom Bishop Basil sees as a warm, venerated figure) to relate to Bishop Kallistos, given the vast differences between them culturally and educationally. The archbishop might genuinely prefer the “neutral” ground of Cambridge. But it’s unlikely that he has a concrete plan of any kind. We agreed that the best approach is for Metropolitan Anthony to write to Archbishop Gregorios inviting him to appoint Bishop Kallistos and Andrew Louth to a working group.

Later I had 20 minutes with Bishop Kallistos. He had not yet read the proposal but was positive. His thought is to begin small, and not with a traditional residential seminary. Pan-Orthodox. And yes, Cambridge is OK. The theological climate there might be better there for such a project to get off the ground. This is a great relief to me. I had been worried about his possible negative reactions.

I had been to confession on Transfiguration. Bishop Basil spoke of Metropolitan Anthony’s analogy of the fish, the ancient “ichthys.” It stands for Christ, but also for us: a willingness to swim anywhere, to be with people as fully as possible. Be willing to swim in different kinds of environments, with different people. Keep swimming, turning, swimming in the current God provides.

Thursday, Aug 28, 1997 [Old Calendar Dormition]

Yesterday Denise and I went to London to meet with Metropolitan Anthony and Bishop Basil regarding plans for the Diocesan Conference and Cambridge. We had dinner afterwards with Bishop Basil at the Polish restaurant next to the South Kensington tube station.

Metropolitan Anthony gave his blessing to the theological college. He will speak with Patriarch Aleksy, Archbishop Gregorios with whom he’s been friends for many years, and said, “I can work with him.” He will also write to Patriarch Ignatius of Antioch, whom he’s known since the patriarch was a young deacon. “He was coming to see me, but he arrived at 3:55 pm for an appointment that had been set for 3:00. When I told him he was late, he said, ‘It’s 3 until 4 pm. As long as it’s not yet 4, it’s still 3!’”

Earlier, as we were entering the church to meet with Metropolitan Anthony, there was a retired Anglican bishop (from Atlanta) and his wife just leaving. The Metropolitan had been telling them how it was that the small Russian community in London had been able to purchase the cathedral in Knightsbridge, one of the most expensive sections of the city. They had been renting up until then, and then the church authorities had decided they needed to sell the property. One of the alternatives was to sell the building for repurposing as a Chinese restaurant and dance hall. But the Russian church community rallied, and Metropolitan Anthony received widespread support in small and large amounts. One man sent his wedding ring, after his wife had just died. Another woman sent her gold teeth (“she had just had false teeth put in”). And he felt that people would support the Cambridge project as well.

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Friday, July 11, 1997. Cambridge.

Yesterday we met with John Binns. I had just finished writing to the President of the Cambridge Theological Federation, John Proctor, about concretely taking forward the Institute’s plans. Graham Cray (Principal of Ridley Hall) had urged him to pursue this “sooner rather than later” when I spoke with Graham unexpectedly over lunch at Tyndale. Meanwhile, John Binns had seen David Ford the day before, and Ford had obviously been pleased with the CISOC proposal. He felt it could move rather quickly, and he was serious about having the Fellowship of St Alban and St Sergius purchase a house and find a way to recover the investment, perhaps by renting rooms when there were no guests, similar to the arrangement they have with Stephen Platt in Oxford. He thought a house could be found for 100,000 pounds. As I left and was unlocking my bike I realized what had happened. I’d just been offered 100,000 pounds for the project. It was serious. Sounds like it will get off the ground. I was unsure of Bishop Kallistos’ support, but John was sure that if the Cambridge Faculty of Divinity, the Diocese of Sourozh, the Fellowship of St Alban and St Sergius, and the Cambridge Theological Federation are behind it—and about this he has no doubts—then others would get behind it as well.

I’m more cautious, and at Denise’s suggestion I called Bishop Basil to have him think about the best way to approach Bishop Kallistos. Bishop Basil was incredibly enthusiastic and didn’t back away when I suggested that things might develop quickly. He sounded quite excited and wondered If I didn’t feel strange being thrust into all this. I do. All of us who are involved feel a bit like it’s out of our hands, and that we’re being carried along. My prayer is that Bishop Kallistos will get behind it too. Bishop Basil thought that he should be made aware soon, perhaps not by me in person, but by a letter from Bishop Basil with a copy of the proposal. Since there is as yet no forum for the Orthodox bishops in the UK to meet, he thought Sourozh could take the lead initially with Cambridge until such time as Thyateira (or rather a joint pan-Orthodox synod) could take charge. In the meantime, appoint representatives of all the dioceses to the Board, on the SVS model. How Bishop Kallistos would be involved will depend on how the organization will look and how Archbishop Gregorios will react. I realized last night that money could also be coming into this, and we need to be ready for that.

I woke up this morning with the refrain: “Do not accept the grace of God in vain” (2 Cor 6:1). So, I looked up the passage and read further. ^“You are not restricted by us, but you are restricted in your own affections. In return—I speak as to children—widen your hearts also” (6:12-13).

Last year at this time I was getting ready for my faculty presentation at SVS. How much has changed since then! Is there a better scriptural passage to keep coming back to as the foundation for any work in Christ’s Church? A continuous opening to others, a widening of the heart…

With all these exalted plans, it was nice to see the very human side of our life (one I dip into occasionally!) like picking tiles for the new house. We finally settled on the tile for the new bathroom yesterday at lunchtime.

Wednesday, Aug 13, 1997

The Fellowship Conference in St Albans went by very quickly. Donald Allchin was there and is enthusiastic about CISOC (he and Bishop Kallistos as boys were students together at Westminster School and have been lifelong friends). He thought that Cambridge was certainly a better place to make a go, although he admits that he himself is thoroughly bound up with Oxford. He has become friends with David Ford over the last few years, and he appreciates the freshness and openness of Cambridge, and the well-organized Theological Federation.

Bishop Kallistos: I had been in fear and trembling having to approach him and prayed desperately every morning about this. And then at lunch, after liturgy on Friday I was able to talk with him informally. It all came out so naturally. And we agreed to talk in Oxford next month.

Archbishop Gregorios: I hadn’t spoken to him yet about the Institute, and I had a heart-stopping moment when Donald Allchin at lunch remarked to the archbishop, “Of course, you know of plans in Cambridge.” But Donald said to me later, “I don’t think the archbishop took it in.” At any rate, John Binns told me he had been talking with Archbishop Gregorios before lunch and out of the blue the archbishop said, “You know, we don’t have a seminary. Cambridge would be the ideal place.” When John Binns told me this, I immediately imagined a team of archimandrites and a vicar bishop moving in with Greek shipping money to setup shop independently of our efforts.

10

Wednesday, June 25, 1997. Thessaloniki, Greece.

Yesterday I flew from London to Athens to Thessaloniki. Went straight from the airport to St Haralampos Church, received communion. Fr Athanasios [Gikas] was in his office finalizing work on an academic paper, while Fr Gregory, a friend of Fr Theonas’ from Simonopetra, was serving. I felt so at home, or at least relative to the first time I came there in 1994, at the agrypnia [vigil service] on the Elevation of the Cross on September 13^th. Afterwards, at the University, things were the same. Everyone was frantic during the last few days of the term, and I was only able to nab Petros Vassiliadis for a few moments. But the evening meeting we had at his home was like gold—2 hours on the dissertation, plans in Cambridge, SVS, his hopes. He knew about SVS, was concerned, and wanted to intervene. But after we spoke, he was reassured and even saw Cambridge developments as better, and hoped for a connection with the University of Thessaloniki. I can foresee new connections with seminaries and universities all over Eastern Europe and the Balkans, sending students (maybe with the help of EU funding?) to Cambridge for a term or a year.

Friday, June 27, 1997. Veria [Beroea], Greece.

I’m here for a conference on St Paul—Bruce Winter is also participating. Yesterday I was sitting on the bus next to Archbishop Onuphry [Berezovsky] of the Diocese of Chernivtsi in Ukraine [he is the current Primate of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church, elected in 2014]. We spoke in Russian. Or rather, I asked questions, and he spoke very openly with me. What is most important for a priest? “To be a personal example. Everything else may be missing—education, ability to preach, a good voice and a good ear—but if he is a good example then nothing is lost.” How do people come to God? He mentioned one woman—a pilgrim to the Lavra of St Sergius, where he was assigned at that time to see pilgrims. He asked her why she came, and she said, “It’s because when I was a girl a priest came by and patted my head.” That was 40 years ago, she said. “But somehow in that touch the grace of God was not lost.” As he said, “What responsibility priests have, how we will answer for every action.”

Fr Nicholas Loudovikos was here too. He didn’t expect to see me yesterday. He came to Veria expecting to find someone who—it turned out—was not here and found me instead. I told him he should get better known by translating his works into English. He said that Metropolitan John Zizioulas had given him the same advice. He feels terribly stifled and isolated in Greece. He said that Metropolitan John also feels very isolated. The Orthodox Church here and its theologians are not ready for a real encounter with the world’s thought. The Church is closed in upon itself, introverted. I can see how constrained he is. It’s obvious that he is simply not understood. He’s too advanced. But he is just the sort of person whom David Ford in Cambridge would appreciate. There must be a way to get his work translated. Can we get him to England for a year? A house and salary, maybe from the Greek Archdiocese? We need a house in Cambridge that could serve as the home of visiting lecturers. Then we’d only have to find funds for visiting scholars. Could we establish an annual visiting lectureship in Cambridge?

I sat with Archbishop Onuphry again on the bus on the way home and asked how he became a monk. “I myself don’t know,” he said. “I was a civilian and then one day the thought came into my mind: ‘Go to seminary.’ I sat down on a bench for three hours and thought about this. And then decided to go. That was 1969. That first year was very difficult. There was much turmoil in my soul. It was hard, and there was a big gap between civilian life and spiritual life. The spiritual fathers at the monastery helped me, and I became a monk in 1970. My father was a priest, but he was a very simple man with no education. He knew prayer and work. Nothing else. He farmed his garden; he had a cow. No politics. And he never said, ‘You should be a priest,’ or even, ‘You should sing in the choir or read.’ Maybe he wanted to, but he never did. But when I went to the seminary, he was glad. He never had given me any money before (he said I might be a ’bad boy’ if I had money) but when I went to seminary I lost my job, and my father gave me money, and with his stipend, being at the monastery I had more than enough.”

As a child in the Soviet Union, he recalled kids smirking about his church connection. “I wasn’t in the Young Pioneers or in the Komsomol, and some children laughed at me. But I was a fighter in those days, and if anyone laughed…”—he smiled; he still has big hands and strong arms. As a youth and young man his main interests were physics, mathematics, mechanics, “and here I am now, a priest!”

Archbishop Onuphry had always been an excellent student, but when he decided to go to seminary, his university teachers suddenly changed their opinion. One wrote a report that said, “he has steely eyes and is mentally unstable.” And it was hard to get recommendations from priests when he was applying to seminary. They were all afraid. Finally, the only priest’s recommendation he could get was from his own father. Even the local bishop was afraid. The government was giving the bishop a hard time about why he had approved his application and allowed him to go to seminary. The bishop backed off and told the authorities, “Ask his father, since he is the son of a priest.”

9

Tuesday, June 10, 1997

Went to London yesterday to see Fr John Lee at the Cathedral. He was raised Roman Catholic on a farm overlooking the Allegheny River, went to Roman Catholic seminary (St Mary’s in Baltimore). His grandmother was probably Uniate from Austro-Hungary. When he wasn’t ordained, he was sent to teach school in Manitoba, and “by chance” a Ukrainian woman at the school, hearing his singing voice, asked him to help her choir in a Ukrainian Orthodox church. After two years he converted.

When I asked him about Metropolitan Anthony, he recounted a story about a French woman who came to London ten years ago to “sit at the feet” of Metropolitan Anthony. “When I asked her, what she had learned after all those years—and she was about to return to France—she said, ‘Il n’y a pas de maîtres.’ There aren’t any masters.”  Fr John introduced me quite bluntly to the faults of the Diocese, thus strengthening my conviction that there is no kingdom of God on earth. There is a tiredness among the clergy, and it seems to me that any sparks will have to be fanned not by them but by the laity. “But there is money,” he said, despite protestations to the contrary. This surprised me. Fr John is the executor of 12 wills, each of which is giving a house to the Diocese. One of them alone will be worth 500,000 pounds. So, if desired, there is money to do an institutional, long-lasting project.

Fr John has been hoping for years to find a better way to train priests. In fact, the Russian Church has said they will not recognize the Statute of the Diocese until they have their administrative house in order, and that includes establishing a program for the training of clergy. We spoke of the need for the Diocese to take responsibility for itself, to stand up, even in terms of its relations with the Church of England. There had been some handwringing about receiving an Anglican parish in Nottingham, but as Fr John said, “Until we show our willingness to accept that there are cows in the road, we won’t be taken seriously.” Meaning, we can’t worry about how the C of E will react. Unfortunately, up to now the C of E attitude is often cynical, observing that the only converts the Orthodox Church gets are people the C of E is happy to see leave: “haters of homosexuals and women.”

Fr John was genuinely heartened by the enthusiasm Denise and I have for staying in England. There had been a sense of hope a long while ago, ten years, but that had dissipated. Metropolitan Anthony went for three or four years in the mid-1980’s rarely serving, closeted away, and this brought people down. “It’s all been too closely tied to him.” When I told him about our own sense that life is percolating here, and that Wagner’s “The Ride of the Valkyries” keeps running through my brain as an image of its momentum, he said I should tell Met Anthony [sadly, I never did].  He asked me who I thought could fire up the people with a sense of excitement again. I think that’s one of our tasks—mine and Denise’s—though I didn’t tell him this. I did say that this spirit would spread among the people, and that there would be no one main leader. All would be taking responsibility and recognizing that we can do something in Christ. And this awareness is in itself empowering. We don’t need to keep waiting for someone else “to do something.”  

Fr John said that Metropolitan Anthony used to ask every new priest as they were being ordained and coming through the Royal Doors, “We need missionaries. Are you prepared to be a missionary?” He also told each priest something quietly for them alone. He told Fr John, “There are two kinds of priest. The active kind, who take the church forward and are creative. And there is the kind who are protectors and conservers. I’m ordering you to be the second type, to hold the line.” Fr John is very blunt. He admitted that at first, “out of jealousy,” he hated me. But he now feels that I am liked in the Diocese and should not feel shy about contributing.

Saturday, June 14, 1997. 16^th anniversary of ordination to diaconate.

As Deni just said, the last 16 years have been preparation for the next 16 years of service. And the day began by illustrating both sides of that service—church and academic. On the academic side: the last respondent to the CISOC proposal came through. David Ford called yesterday afternoon.  He was writing a letter to Bishop Basil and was very pleased with the proposal. He felt it was “so worthwhile,” and said it was “very well rounded and nuanced.” He suggested that the next step should be a wide-ranging discussion with the President of the Cambridge Theological Federation (at Westminster College) and that full membership as a training body should be the goal. I was so happy when I got off the phone. Bishop Basil, when I spoke to him, felt that we need to continue to let Cambridge guide us, and to keep being aware that we are responding to their need and their request. And on the church side: Deni and I went to pick up Alex (age 11) from his Midlands camping trip, and he was glowing. He’d bought me a brass candlesnuffer for our new church life, saying, “You might be needing this…”

8

Wednesday, May 28, 1997

I arrived, tired, in Paris but pulled myself together and got on the Metro, following the penciled instructions from Fr John Breck I’d scribbled last evening on the back of an envelope. After going upRue de Crimee instead of down I finally found L’Institut St Serge [ISS]. It’s tucked slightly away from the livelier neighborhood along Laumiere. It has seen better days, though it was protected from a recent fire at the photo lab next door. By right it should have caught fire since the building closest to the fire was the dilapidated ISS candle factory. There was paraffin everywhere that should have gone up in flames. As Fr John said, this was a miracle of St Sergius. Fr John later told me that St Sergius had been chosen as the patron of the Institute in 1924 because it was on his feast day (18 July Old Calendar) that John Mott of the YMCA came up with the decisive money to purchase the property. A picture of him hangs on one of the walls.

There are some newer offices and classrooms, but the heart of the school is an older version of the St Vladimir’s Old Building. Rickety steps leading up to Fr John’s little flat in the eaves; steps worn away by generations of faculty and students: Fr Bulgakov, Fr Florovsky, Fr Alexander Schmemann, Fr John Meyendorff. Fr Boris Bobrinskoy spent 18 years or so up there with his family, stooping perpetually because he’s so tall and the ceilings are so low. The chapel is a holy Russian church that takes me back to growing up in Montreal at Saints Peter and Paul and to the old chapel at St Vladimir’s, though it’s even darker. The ceiling is peeling, and new white plaster shows where leaks have appeared and been repaired. It is “namolennaya” as my Baba [grandmother] would say—imbued with the prayers of generations. But it also feels closed in. I can imagine Fr Alexander [Schmemann] and Fr John [Meyendorff] feeling oppressed here. The students sang beautifully, again reminding me so much of the Russian spirit of the church in Montreal, but as someone said, “it’s the closed kind of Orthodoxy, mystical but not accessible.” Why can’t things be kept up, repaired, and painted? Is it only lack of money? I see the same ethos at the London Cathedral. What a contrast to the attention to detail I saw in Fr Alexander Schmemann and Fr John Meyendorff.

But everyone was very warm and welcoming. Among others I met Simeon [Froyshov] from Norway, whom I’d spoken with at St Vladimir’s, now doing his PhD in liturgy. He was disappointed here with the lack of “St Vladimir’s” vision for church and liturgy. Also met Fr Job Getcha, who is doing his Masters and had been a parishioner of Fr Ihor Kutash at the Ukrainian Orthodox Church in Montreal [Fr Ihor had been influential in my own life as a student at McGill University in the mid 1970’s—we would often have weekday matins together in a university chapel, where we would be on our own as he served and I was the reader/singer].

Fr John took me to meet Fr Boris Bobrinskoy. He was leaving to attend a conference in Zagreb in a few minutes but had time for an introduction and “agreement in principle” about forming an alliance regarding correspondence courses. His main question was why I had joined Sourozh and not the Greek Archdiocese of Thyateira. I told him I was “looking for a church with a vision beyond its own people.” This was the answer he expected.

Long discussion with Fr John and Sophie Deicha regarding the correspondence program. The secret to its success is flexibility, fitting into people’s needs, and not rigidly establishing a fixed and narrow format. And then it was lunch with an effusive Fr Nicolas Ozoline, an old world Russian priest. He and others can’t understand the ecumenical bent of people in Thessaloniki like Petros Vassiliadis and Savvas Agouridis.

Tuesday, June 3, 1997

I dreamt that Bishop Kallistos came to stay overnight. We were rushing about getting the house tidied before he came down to breakfast. Later he and I had a pleasant lunch in a Greek restaurant, where the lady in charge gave us a break on the price. An altogether peaceful visit. In contrast with this dream-story Deni told me of her real-life meeting with him in Oxford at Pascha. Not that he wasn’t cordial, but he was perplexed at our decision to come to Cambridge. “Why? Why Cambridge?”

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Tuesday, May 13, 1997

Last Saturday: first pan-Orthodox conference on religious education, at the Serbian Center in London. Metropolitan Anthony, Bishop Kallistos, Archbishop Gregorios, and others. Also, a surprise visitor: Owen Jones, the founder of Rose Hill College. His advice about starting the Institute, based on what he learned in starting Rose Hill: “It’s humbling, you need to ask others for help. And you won’t get help unless you ask. And faith. Hebrews 11 has meant a lot to us.” He stressed 1) the need for education to cost (“Orthodoxy often sells itself short”) and 2) the need to be visionary (“this is what gives power”).

There was enthusiasm at the conference for thinking—or at least hinting—big. Not only were the possibilities of Orthodox secondary schools considered, but an Orthodox Open University, a seminary, and training for teachers and clergy. Another confirmation that this is the right moment to get the Institute off the ground.

Wednesday, May 14, 1997

Revised the plan for CISOC to send it out more widely for reactions.

Saw David Ford at the New Testament Seminar on the future of NT scholarship. Markus Bockmuehl was the presenter, and although he is pessimistic about the current state of NT scholarship, he is hopeful about the NT itself when grounded in reading and interpretations that are ecclesial, spiritual, Christian. He is brilliant and courageous.

David Ford tapped me on the shoulder as he came in and said he’d had a good meeting with Hilarion [Alfeyev] and wanted to tell me about it.  It’s likely that he will come to Cambridge in 1998-99, through the new Center for Advanced Religious and Theological Studies (CARTS), though the exact teaching and format are open. Ford was in support of an Orthodox presence, the need for a center, and a church to which people like Fr Hilarion could be attached and for Orthodoxy to be embodied. I told him of the proposal I would be sending him, and he was enthusiastic. I mentioned that I’d also seen Chris Wright, who sees a possible connection with the Cambridge Theological Federation, perhaps associate membership to start with. The ball keeps rolling.

Went to Tyndale House at 6 pm to pick up Chris Seitz for dinner. He has been teaching at Yale for several years, is a protégé of Brevard Childs, has spoken several times with Fr Paul Tarazi at St Vladimir’s, and goes regularly to Fr Michael Westerberg’s church in New Haven and is now a visiting scholar at Tyndale House. He was very supportive about plans for the Institute and had some good recommendations. With him and others at Tyndale House I feel that Evangelicals and Orthodox are much more deeply allied than others might imagine at first glance.

Thursday, May 22, 1997

Jim Forest was staying overnight with us Monday and Tuesday night for his presentation on icons at Great St Mary’s, based on his new book, Praying with Icons. About 25 people came, which was much more than the SPCK bookstore manager expected for a book about icons. The talk and slides were just right—real families, church scenes, putting icons within the real spiritual lives of people. We had lunch on Tuesday with John Binns at “The Mitre” pub. I asked Jim about the idea of a center for research here, and he was very excited about the possibility. “There’s nothing like it.” That same day, at the Tuesday morning chapel service at Tyndale House, I met Graham Cray, the Principal of Ridley Hall. And when I mentioned the idea of an Orthodox institute he said, “I would have thought this is exactly the right timing.” [Graham Cray later became a bishop. His frequently quoted motto was “Walls down, roots down.”]

Several people had recommended that I talk with Prof Dan Hardy about prospects for an Orthodox Institute, and yesterday when I was at a presentation on Jewish Studies by Prof Nicholas de Lange, it turned out that he was there too. Jeanne Knights introduced us. He said that one of the “major lacunae” in English theology is liturgical. “Orthodoxy could help with that.” More confirmation of genuine support here in Cambridge.

Friday, May 23, 1997

It’s Friday already. The Sourozh Diocesan conference begins today in Oxford, and I still don’t have my talk ready. With this and with the plans for the Institute “out there,” I feel so little, of no account, and would just like to retreat. Scared. I have no interest in “big.” Just a small parish, a secure salary, serving, preaching, visiting. Only that would be a betrayal of all the hopes here, wouldn’t it? But it is scary, and I can’t pray with that weight. Psalm 70 should be mine.

O God, attend to my help
    O Lord, make haste to help me. (Ps 70:1)

Tuesday, May 27, 1997

On the way home from the conference Deni and I spoke seriously about the idea of correspondence courses and putting the most effort into that first. Fr Stephen Headley had also spoken about this when we asked him. Incredibly, today I got a letter from Fr John Breck suggesting the same idea was brewing at St Serge and would I be interested in a possible connection between Cambridge and Paris? Yes, of course. So, I’m already on the train tonight bound for London and will take a bus to Paris to meet Fr Boris Bobrinskoy and others before he leaves for a conference in Zagreb. This is the only way to get there early. I only managed to speak with Fr John after 6:15 this evening. The bus/boat will get me to Paris by 7 am. Deni packed me a dinner, I quickly changed clothes and packed, and she drove me to the train station. I’m now on my way to France.

Elisabeth Behr-Sigel, 90 this year, was present throughout the Sourozh conference and I managed to have a few words with her. She was very pleased to see the growth of the Diocese, which she had known from its birth. She had known Metropolitan Anthony as a layman in Paris [Andrei Bloom]. She was only sad that there was as yet no consciousness of being a local church as was now happening in France.

6

Sunday, April 20, 1997, Palm Sunday. Short Hills, New Jersey.

Yesterday arrived with Anthony at JFK airport in New York. Liturgy for Palm Sunday at our old parish in Rahway, New Jersey. Alongside the “distress and anguish” of the 1^st Antiphon of Palm Sunday I felt the gratitude of Lazarus: “What shall I render to the Lord for all that he has given me?” (Ps 116). And today’s epistle reading from Philippians is the theme of the Institute: “Rejoice in the Lord, again I say rejoice…Whatever is good…think about these things.” I was so glad to see George and Elizabeth [Theokritoff]. Both support the idea of an Orthodox presence in Cambridge. Elizabeth said the idea of being a “bridge” between East and West was exactly the original impetus for the Fellowship of St Alban and St Sergius in Oxford [she was Executive Director for a time], but now its older, Anglo-Catholic membership is less inclined to be attractive to a broad range of other Christians. She thought Cambridge is an obvious spot for something new to begin.

I called Fr Paul Lazor and arranged for confession after Bridegroom matins tonight. I keep coming back to Fr John Turkevich’s words to John Shimchick and me when we spoke with him a few years ago: “God deals in big numbers.” The bigness of God, the impossibility of capturing him, his effect, his ways. Like the Greeks always say, “O Theos mas einai megalos”:  Our God is Big (or Great). I was grateful for all I have just received at St Vladimir’s. The Bridegroom matins was so beautiful. The sense that we are all in this together—all, professors, students—all bowing down before the same God, everyone conscious of their own cares, own sins, each needing salvation. As everyone bowed during the Prayer of St Ephraim the soft rustling of the cassocks was the sound of quiet waves lapping at a calm seashore, unruffled, no anxiety. I confessed all my resentment, faithlessness, despair, and anger of the last few months, but now want to put all that behind me. My enmity left when the decision was made to stay in England, but the “lapping” helped seal this.

Fr Paul told me a story that he said very few know. When he and Fr Tom went to anoint Fr Alexander [Schmemann] for the last time before his passing in December 1983, Matushka Juliana was there, they had their final conversation, and others made a record of his very last words: “Amen, amen, amen.” But there was something he said earlier. All along Fr Alexander had been responding to questions clearly with either a word, or a nod or a squeeze of his hand. Then Fr Paul asked him, “Do you bless us to continue your work?” He refused to respond. His hand was limp. It was a pivotal moment in Fr Paul’s life. Here was Fr Alexander saying in effect, “It isn’t in my power to give it to anyone. It doesn’t belong to me. It is God who raises up people.” My going to England reminded Fr Paul of God’s presence and sovereignty. God is the one who is in charge. Fr Paul had so wanted me to be at SVS. “But it wasn’t mine to give.”

Fr Paul told me that his mother is in her last days and when he visits her, he asks for “a word.” Last time she said, “If something you are called to do is of God you will always be called upon to give more, and there will always be enough.” But fear persists: “Will there be enough? Can I do it?” We need to use this fear to rely on God. “Sometimes,” he said, “I think the only thing I have to offer to God is my fear.” Fr Paul also confirmed the need to stay free, free to go anywhere, no matter what resentments and fears may seek to prevent us from being at peace. Stay open, and don’t shut people off.

5

Monday, March 24, 1997

“Anxious and troubled about many things” [Luke 10:41]. Everything comes back to faith in God, his presence, and his promises. I’ve been reading the Russian Chronicles of Seraphim-Diveyevo Monastery and am struck by how everything St Seraphim of Sarov did was through the direction or confirmation of the Theotokos. Once I know the project is blessed, I can learn to be peaceful (likewise if it’s not). In the meantime, work, take initiative, and as doors open enter in. And keep knocking.

Monday, March 31, 1997

It has been a dramatic few days, yet the feeling of drama has yet to reach me. The pace has prevented that. It’s just after 1 am, and Denise and I just finished editing and finalizing the proposal for “The Cambridge Institute for the Study of Orthodox Christianity” to send to Bishop Basil [CISOC was the working title of IOCS until it was formally incorporated in 1999]. It was signed just before midnight. I remembered Fr Alexander Schmemann’s insistence that the agreement about the OCA’s autocephaly be signed on March 31^st, not April 1^st!

Wednesday, April 2, 1997

Yesterday I mailed the CISOC proposal to Bishop Basil. We also signed the agreement for the building of our new house at 10 College Fields and spoke with bankers about a mortgage, and family members willing to help with a down payment. It was April Fool’s Day—and yet it was all real. As one of the saints said, “You can do nothing without God, but God will give you nothing unless you work with all your heart.” Lord, help us to be completely open.  “Strike me down, raise me up, I worship in silence Thy holy will.”

Today I heard from John Binns that Great St Mary’s is looking to reopen St Michael’s chapel, and he wants us to think about the possibility using it for an Orthodox presence in Cambridge. When I saw Fr John Lee at the Cathedral in London, he too had mentioned the hope of starting regular services in Cambridge. But he warned that some of the Orthodox in England might be troubled by too close a relationship with the Church of England. John Binns likewise volunteered that this was a sensitive point, since the Diocese of Sourozh is viewed by some as getting too liberal. Our association with Great St Mary’s might confirm this impression and undermine whatever good we were trying to accomplish. Nor had he yet spoken with his own people about this. I was noncommittal but did say that if the project gets a blessing and a working group is put together to take it forward, then it would be natural to include him and explore this further. But we do need to be careful. The Orthodox must have complete trust in this venture.

Tuesday, April 8, 1997

Sunday, I met in London with Fr Michael and Jeanne Harper. Denise and I spoke the other day about the need for a “Cambridge man” to be part of these plans, and when I called Fr Michael Harper last night, lo and behold, he was a student at Emmanuel College and has a great desire to do something for his old town and university. What was most memorable about the day was not our picnic and conversation in Regent’s Park, though that was all positive, and they have much interest and enthusiasm for developing something Orthodox in Cambridge. What was more astonishing was seeing for the first time little girls serving in the altar at the liturgy at the Antiochian Cathedral of St George. How absolutely refreshing and delightful to see “Carol,” “Nadine,” “Samira,” and another Lebanese girl, plus two boys being typical altar servers (including their quiet kibbitzing with each other). The girls were definitely the most competent of the lot. I was told that girls serve here and elsewhere in Western Europe with the blessing of Bishop Gabriel and the Patriarch. At coffee Samira’s mother explained that not allowing girls to serve was a “Jewish or Muslim custom, but it’s not our way.” She did admit that this is still relatively recent, and people needed some convincing.

Thursday, April 10, 1997

“Say to my soul, ‘I am your salvation’” (Ps 35:3). This is a good verse for today, since last night Bishop Basil gave us Metropolitan Anthony’s blessing to stay in England to pursue the Cambridge project. Bishop Basil was uncharacteristically effusive in his support and left me feeling that we have the backing of both bishops—at least moral support, since “the Diocese has no money.” He had spoken with Metropolitan Anthony about the proposal after sending a copy to him the day he received it. The Metropolitan was taken aback by its ambition and scope, but Bishop Basil pointed out that this was a seed being planted. Metropolitan Anthony liked the oak tree analogy that Prof David Ford had offered: “Oak trees come from acorns.” But Metropolitan Anthony was also concerned that we know the financial hard facts, and Bishop Basil assured him that we did. Another crucial factor for Bishop Basil, which he seems to have underlined with the Metropolitan, is the positive conversations I’ve had with others in Cambridge and elsewhere. I wanted to make no mistakes here, and needed to be convinced this is not just a “John and Denise Jillions thing.” So, I asked Bishop Basil his owncandid view, not just the repeated positive opinion of Metropolitan Anthony. With unusual feeling and force he said, “It would be a sin not to attempt this. This is the way we should live. With a sense of dependence on God, of risk, of holy adventure, going into the unknown.” He felt that this is the sort of project that Metropolitan Anthony would be “constitutionally incapable” of starting himself, “given that it is a plan.” Bishop Basil also felt that if anything like this is to happen in England it will be in Cambridge. Oxford doesn’t have the right spirit in the Divinity School. He said that the newly appointed patristics professor, for example, has no personal commitment at all to the Fathers of the Church. The openness and freshness of the Cambridge Divinity Faculty (David Ford in particular) is a crucial difference. He reiterated that pan-Orthodox involvement is important, but some structure—like the Cambridge Theological Federation—which includes non-Orthodox could prevent the project from falling apart or being dominated by any one Orthodox group with its own agenda.

Bishop Basil advised that I wait to talk to Bishop Kallistos and others later in the process, after it becomes clearer that there’s solid interest from Cambridge University in setting up the project seriously.

As it happens, this was the same day that Fr Paul Lazor called from St Vladimir’s Seminary and left a blessing for me on the answerphone. I hadn’t spoken to him since September of last year. He called to say he was thinking of us. “God be with you.” But at that point early in the day, neither of us knew exactly what the blessing was for.

[The Cambridge Theological Federation (CTF) with now twelve houses of study would come to provide the critical ecumenical and institutional context for IOCS. Its “Statement of Purpose”: 

Shaped by a common life of prayer and study, the Cambridge Theological Federation is an ecumenical collaboration of educational institutes engaged in the formation of Christian leaders. Individually and together we teach theology for ministry; reflect on the local and global, ecumenical and inter-faith context for Christian mission; foster encounter between people of different ecclesial and faith traditions; and undertake research in theology and religious studies.]

4

Sunday, February 2, 1997

I preached on “A Sign that is Spoken Against: the witness of the Orthodox Church in Eastern Europe” at Great St Mary’s, the University Church in Cambridge, as part of their 5-part series on the churches of Europe. I wanted the story of the new martyrs and confessors to be told. Their message as a legacy of single-minded holding on to faith was what I distilled from conversations with Fr Leonid Kishkovsky and others recently. When all can be taken away, this is what remains. Scorched earth all around, but the one stubborn tree that refuses to die or be cut down is faith.

Friday, March 7, 1997

Met today with David Ford [Regius Professor of Divinity] in his office at the Faculty of Divinity. Looks like the time is ripe for an Institute for the Study of Orthodox Christianity, started by me or someone else, here in Cambridge. There’s an empty space for this in Cambridge, largely because the Orthodox Church has been viewed as “an Oxford thing.” He is especially interested in Orthodoxy’s role in contemporary theology. He was warm and enthusiastic. This means a lot coming from him as the senior faculty member. As he said, “Oak trees come from acorns.”

Thursday, March 13, 1997

Last night Denise and I were at the home of John and Sue Binns for dinner. [The Revd Dr John Binns was the vicar of Great St Mary’s, the University Church in Cambridge. He was a founding director of IOCS and has continued to serve on the Board these 25 years]. John was very supportive of a possible stay in Cambridge and spoke of Metropolitan Anthony’s influence in his life. In the past Metropolitan Anthony was invited to Cambridge several times a term to preach in various colleges and churches, especially at Great St Mary’s. While John was a student at St Catharine’s College Metropolitan Anthony preached daily for a week-long mission, and John went along just out of curiosity. “But by Wednesday I was hooked.” He said that was a pivotal moment in his decision to become a priest.

Monday, March 17, 1997

I was in Oxford on Saturday and spoke with Bishop Basil about our hopes, asking for his blessing. He supports us, but knows it will be difficult and therefore, in good conscience, how can he easily rejoice? He says the next step is to put a proposal in writing for Metropolitan Anthony. On Sunday I went to the London Cathedral with Nicholas Sagovsky [Anglican chaplain at Clare College] and we had wide-ranging conversations in the car there and back. But in speaking with him I realized how many gaps there are in my knowledge—current research in New Testament, classics, Old Testament, philosophy, current thought in theology, western theological developments. I feel most at home meditating on the text of Scripture, preaching.

Tuesday, March 18, 1997

St Patrick’s Day yesterday, and it looks like Denise may have a job. One fell through, but at that very moment Bruce Winter offered her a job to do editing and to support the administrator at Tyndale House. They would basically run Tyndale’s day-to-day operations, explore grants and development, and keep everything on track. Just the kind of work/training she needs to run something similar for an Orthodox institute in Cambridge. The “dropping in her lap” of this opportunity is not lost on her. So many such incidents lately. A conversation yesterday with John Binns about possibly using the Westcott House chapel. And today we were walking by Wesley House, saw a sign for “The Cambridge Theological Federation” (CTF) and had an unexpected meeting with Chris Wright, the administrator. This would provide the ideal ecumenical setting for our institute. Even if I’m notthe right person, this is the right moment.

3.

Dec 6, 1996. St Nicholas.

Eric called yesterday [Eric Wheeler, CFO of the OCA 1988-1999, and my brother-in-law, married to my sister Alla]. He was calling on behalf of Fr Bob [Fr Robert Kondratick, OCA Chancellor 1988-2006] and Fr Alexander Golubov [Academic Dean, St Tikhon’s Seminary 1995-2010] to ask if I would be interested in teaching dogmatics at St Tikhon’s.

The hardest thing for me would be to stay here in England. It frightens me—the wide openness of the possibilities and unknowns. Yet here is where, it appears at the moment, there is more to be offered, more need. I keep thinking of what Fr Alexander [Schmemann] told me when I called him in 1983 from a payphone on a break from work at Banker’s Trust. I wanted his advice about being ordained a priest and going to a tough Brooklyn neighborhood. “John, we know where the easy way comes from. If the way is knowingly difficult, the Lord will bless it.” I’m not sure the Lord ever presses anyone to do what’s knowingly difficult. Perhaps this accounts for Bishop Basil’s reluctance to come right out and say, “Stay in England.” He knows it would be difficult. And that’s why we need to take the initiative, to willingly see the need, choose the difficult, and pick up the cross, knowing that if we do, we will—in the end—have help.

Dec 9, 1996

With Fr Michael Fortounatto in London. I told him that we were unsettled, and as if he knew how deep that was, he asked, “Fr John, have you ever been in a crisis? I have, and I found God at the bottom of it.” Today is the feast of the Conception of the Theotokos: Joachim accepts the rebuke of the priest as God’s judgment. His response is to ask forgiveness, to repent, and to ask God to remove his humiliation. Likewise, Anna. They both feel the rejection so deeply, but there is no blaming of priests or God. And when their prayer is heard they dedicate their child to Godwith thanksgiving. But it’s also striking that they never simply say, “It’s OK, we don’t need a child, we can do without that.” No, they repent and pray for what they most desire.

Dec 11. 1996

Fr John Breck left a message a few days ago and I called back. He was very saddened but felt perhaps that I had been spared unbelievable pressure. “Workaholism, living on the edge of exhaustion, and expected to do so.” His advice is to seek the Lord’s will through 1) insistent banging on the gates of heaven to ask for clarity and 2) silence: “listen in the Lord’s presence.”

Fr Tom’s advice on seeking the will of God: if we truly will to seek God’s will, we will find it. In the meantime, be faithful to whatever calling we now have, in its details. “Faithful over little…” For me that means focusing on finishing the PhD, to see this as God’s calling. Fr John Breck’s insistence: “this needs to get done.” Bishop Kallistos keeps asking, “How’s your research?” And just seeing Bruce Winter at Tyndale House reminds me to keep working. The temptation is to let other worries intervene. Like this morning, I had waves of anxiety waking me up. The dissertation (all the Old Testament material to review), the children, the prospects of staying here, money—and the lack of it right now, with Christmas coming. I am “anxious and troubled about many things.” But it does ease when sitting before God: “Cast your burden on the Lord and he will sustain you.” I thought of Elijah in his depression, treated so gently by the angel of the Lord. “Arise, eat, you need strength for the journey, else the journey will be too great for you” (1 Kgs 19:7).

2.

November 28, 1996

Our celebration of American Thanksgiving tomorrow will be in Oxford with other American ex-pats: Bishop Basil (Osborne), Fr Stephen and Anne Headley and their children, Fr John Lee and his family, and Kelsey Cheshire and her daughter. Right now, I still find it impossible to pray, though reading psalms is a big help (except that they also stir up self-pitying thoughts of being persecuted). I say the words, but they barely come out. I feel such a crushing weight on my chest.  “He is full of heaviness; thy rebuke has broken his heart.” I still find myself going over the ground of my rejection again and again. What did I do wrong? Where can I go? How to distinguish between what is really my problem—and correctible—and what is the result of other factors? Or should I consider whether God has some other plan? I’m not bitter, although part of me admits wanting to do well out of spite. Is this the weight that keeps me from praying? I just don’t know. Perhaps it’s best to:

1. Accept this as an opportunity for repentance; consider what in me needs correction (the “log in my own eye”).
2. Look for opportunities—eventually—to remain connected with SVS and do good.
3. Refuse to speak out of anger, bitterness, envy.
4. Immerse myself in productive work.
5. “Look to the interests of others.” Do good. Find opportunities to serve.
6. Pray for others. St John of Kronstadt: “The prayer of a priest for men has great power with God, if only the priest calls on the Lord with his whole heart, with faith and love.”

November 30, 1996. St Andrew.

Andrew and I are staying with the Headleys, in the old house of  Nicholas and Militza Zernov in Oxford. Andrew is still sleeping, and I write here under a huge old print of Moscow. Last evening we were all at Bishop Basil’s for Thanksgiving dinner. As Anthony walked into the home he whispered to Denise, “This is my dreamhouse!” The fire in the grate, the walls filled with paintings, portraits, art of all kinds, little tables here and there with overflowing potted plants and artistic additions and sculptures, the high ceiling, a long table and two elaborate Victorian silver candelabras, the old and comfortable furniture, very worn. All this made an atmosphere of welcoming and warmth.

Bishop Basil, predictably reserved, had no immediate reaction to my news from Saint Vladimir’s Seminary. However, Fr Stephen Headley (SVS ’69) has been living in France for many years and was counselling me to stay in Europe. “You can do so much more here than if you go back to the US.” Later, when I simply asked about having a seminary in England, he said, “You should run with that. It needs an American kind of push to get it going. Bishop Kallistos and everyone has been talking about this for years.” He said it would need a strong correspondence component. “St Serge Institute in Paris has a successful correspondence program with 300 students. And it provides a fulltime salary for the priest who runs it.” As he sees it, something like this could be run from Cambridge. At the same time this would give Cambridge the fulltime priest it needs (right now Bishop Basil serves liturgy there on a Saturday once a month at St Edmund’s College). This might be needed, but I’m not convinced it’s for me.

1.

In September 1999, after more than two years of preparation IOCS began with a wonderful sense of promise and purpose. Like any institution it has seen its share of challenges, but by the grace of God IOCS has continued serving students and scholars from the UK and around the world for twenty-five years. It has had some remarkable founders, teachers, and benefactors, most notably the late Metropolitan Kallistos of Diokleia, who was the guiding force and chairman for most of its history.  I offered to write a series of posts for this anniversary year about that critical founding period from late 1996 to the opening in 1999.  I kept a personal journal all through that time which I have excerpted for this series.

As the Institute was first conceived, began taking shape, and then was born there was a consistent thread of wonder as doors opened unexpectedly to make this venture possible. I often thought of Psalm 104:24, “O Lord, how manifold are thy works! In wisdom hast thou made them all…” Another thread was Psalm 126:5, “Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy,”  because the first seeds of IOCS came out of personal crisis, and—as Fr Michael Fortounatto told me at the time—that’s where God is found.

First some background. I had been a priest for ten years, and in the summer of 1994 my wife Denise and I moved from Rahway, New Jersey to Thessaloniki, Greece with our three sons (Andrew, Alex, and Anthony) so I could start doctoral studies in New Testament with Professor Petros Vassiliadis. The assumption had been that after finishing my PhD I would return to teach at St Vladimir’s Seminary in New York. I spent a year in Greece, and then moved to Cambridge, England to do research at Tyndale House, a wonderful biblical research library, where I could work under the supervision of its director, Dr Bruce Winter. He was acquainted with the biblical faculty in Thessaloniki through Professor John Karavidopoulos who had spent a sabbatical year at Tyndale House. It was an extraordinary time in our lives, and I made the most of the resources in Cambridge, including attending the lectures of Professor Morna Hooker on the letters of St Paul.

Then in September 1996—sooner than expected, and before I had finished my dissertation—Fr Thomas Hopko (the dean at that the time) invited me to apply for a position at StVladimir’s and to come for faculty interviews, give a lecture, participate in the liturgical services, and preach. It all seemed to go well, and I returned to Cambridge with great anticipation. However, on November 7^th, I had a mournful but decisive call from Fr Tom: he couldn’t offer me a position. Clearly, it hadn’t gone as well as we both had thought at the time. I was devastated and honestly didn’t know what to do. In November 1996, living in Cambridge, everything seemed to have fallen apart. And that’s where the Institute begins.