It was towards the end of June 1354. Weary of the hardships of captivity, the Bishop of Thessaloniki, Saint Gregory Palamas, was transferred, for health reasons, to Nicaea, to the Monastery of Hyacinth 1, to recuperate. On that summer’s day, together with his companion, Photios, he decided to explore the area around his new home. Their steps led them outside the city walls, into the countryside. As they followed a path, the bishop’s attention was drawn to a strange structure in the orchard, which he gazed at intently. It was a white, cube-shaped structure. Whilst he was trying to work out what it was, voices could be heard from a procession approaching them. He stepped aside discreetly and remained to watch the scene. It was a Muslim funeral. Tasimanis, the Muslim officiant, began the service. At one point, when the service had ended, the crowd began to disperse slowly and make their way towards the nearest gate of the citadel.
The sun was beating down, and Tasimanis, along with quite a few from the funeral procession, were standing in the shade, seeking its coolness. The spot had already attracted others, whom he himself could tell were Christians. He therefore chose to stand in front of them. It was not long before the group of Christians was joined by two more people, who had arrived from the same direction as he had. There was no particular reason for his attention to be drawn to anything, until one of them asked if there was anyone who knew both languages – that is, Turkish and Greek – to act as an interpreter. It was the Bishop of Thessalonica, who was being held captive by the Turks, who initiated the conversation. Saint Gregory Palamas began the discussion by praising the service he had witnessed, the manner in which prayers had been offered to God for the soul of the deceased, and then went on to ask exactly what had been said. Tasimanis explained, very briefly, that in their prayer they had asked for forgiveness for the sins the deceased had committed throughout his life. Saint Gregory Palamas’s reaction was one of praise: ‘Well done!’2. This gave him the opportunity to steer the discussion towards the central importance of the Person of Christ for mankind and the world, as its Creator, Saviour and Judge. Taking the Person of the Lord Jesus Christ—the light of the world and the recapitulation of salvation—as his starting point and foundation, Saint Gregory continues his exposition. In a relatively short space of time, the difference between the two worlds—the Christian and the Muslim—becomes apparent. Boldly, the bishop emphasises, in comparison with Islam, the values of Christianity, including peace and love, and when the Muslim crowd began to take offence at the ease with which he was expressing his views, he himself replied, smiling cheerfully and gently: ‘If we were in agreement on everything, then we would belong to the same faith’3 At that moment, one of the Turks who was present, as the brief discussion had come to an end and they were dispersing, replied: ‘There will come a time when we shall agree amongst ourselves’4. Saint Gregory Palamas’s reply is characteristic: ‘I too agreed [with that man’s reply] and prayed that that time might come quickly’5.
The case preserved for us in the text of the Letter entitled ‘To the Church Itself’ (Πρὸς τὴν ἑαυτοῦ Ἐκκλησία) is not unique in the experience of the Church. Dialogue, as a mode of theology, springs from the New Testament itself and characterises the early Christian centuries. In Alexandria and Antioch, cosmopolitan centres of the era, the encounter between Christianity, Hellenism and Judaism—which had already begun with the work of Saint Paul the Apostle—reached its zenith through the development of dialogue. The command of our Saviour Jesus Christ, ‘Go and teach all nations’ (Matthew XXVIII, 19), the confrontation with heresies, and the development of the Church in multi-religious and multicultural environments, shaped theological discourse as a discourse of dialogue. It is evident that, in relation to other religious manifestations, the Church’s existential contradiction was clear; yet equally clear was its role, which did not lead to isolation or strict limitation. Indeed, such an approach would not have been in keeping with the Church’s ecumenical identity and the universal message of the Good News of salvation, of which it was the bearer. At the same time, the Church’s responsibility for the whole person has always called for, and continues to call for, its active participation in historical events, with a view to shaping a society of love, peace and freedom, which marks a transformed human history.
The commandment of the Saviour Jesus Christ, ‘Go and teach all nations’, the confrontation with heresies, as well as the Church’s development in multi-religious and multicultural environments, have shaped the theological word as a word of dialogue.
Particularly from the 7th century onwards, the Eastern Church has coexisted with Islam. This coexistence gave rise to a valuable dialogue, as attested in the works of the Holy Fathers and Theologians, such as Maximus the Confessor, John of Damascus, Gregory Palamas, Joseph Vriennios, etc., as well as in the writings of emperors, amongst whom we recall Manuel II Palaeologus and John Cantacuzene. Saint Gregory Palamas had the opportunity to engage in dialogue with Muslims on two further occasions during his captivity.
The first dialogue was with Ismail, the nephew of Emir Orhan, who, having been informed of the saint’s character, asked to speak with him on theological and practical matters 6. This brief dialogue, which took place in the open air, was interrupted by rain, but what is significant is that the Bishop of Thessalonica, through his sincere and exemplary conduct, maintained the discussion at such a level that even his boldness did not provoke the wrath of Ismail, according to the common testimony, who was known to be cruel and irascible.
The second dialogue was with Emir Orhan himself, who, asking ‘who and what sort of man is this monk’7’, organised in his palace a dialogue between Saint Gregory and his own wise men, the so-called hioni 8, in the month of June in the year 1354, with the topic once again being the differences between Christianity and Islam 9. The discussion began with references to the doctrine of the Trinity, to the Person of the Lord Jesus Christ, arguing for His divinity, and to topics concerning the connection with Judaism and the way in which Christians view the person of Muhammad. The Hionians were unable to counter the arguments put forward by Saint Gregory Palamas, and the dialogue took place in a calm atmosphere, apart from one person who launched an attack against the bishop but was condemned by everyone for his actions. It is worth noting the manner in which the Muslim scholars addressed Saint Gregory Palamas as they were departing: ‘the Turkish archons rose and, with reverence, saluted the Bishop of Thessalonica, and departed’10
The third dialogue is the one that took place with Tasimanis. However, what characteristically distinguishes this dialogue from the others is the fact that it was not an officially organised or arranged dialogue, nor were the interlocutors determined in advance. It is a discussion that arose spontaneously from an event in daily life. In other words, a dialogue that touches upon the human person and their needs. A dialogue which, although prompted by a captive, embodies the freedom of the spirit. Moreover, it is a dialogue that exemplifies patristic teaching put into practice—that is, a teaching lived out through faith. What Saint Gregory Palamas teaches us in this instance, amongst other things, is the use of a respectful tone and a fitting dialectical approach. Since Saint Gregory Palamas showed absolute respect towards his interlocutor, as well as total sincerity towards the identity of the latter’s tradition, with positive intent and politeness, it is no coincidence that when Tasimanis addresses him, he calls him ‘Most Good One’11; thus, through structured reasoning and a gentle tone, the Holy Father elicits a positive response, prompting his interlocutor to express all his thoughts.
654 years later12, the voice of Saint Gregory Palamas resounds in the same way as it did then. It is not without purpose that the Holy Father emphasises the peaceful nature of Christian teaching, which has spread to the ends of the earth, ‘without resorting to violence’13). In the era marked by 11 September 2001, that is, ‘the day that changed the world’, as that day has been described, and by all that followed, the need for dialogue and interfaith cooperation is directly confirmed, so that peaceful coexistence and harmony amongst the peoples of the world may be achieved. Dialogue is of vital importance, particularly within the context of a united Europe and the ethnic and social upheavals brought about by migration flows and other factors, as well as within the highly diverse religious and cultural landscape already present on the old continent.
Particularly within the context of a united Europe and the ethnic and social upheavals brought about by migration flows and other factors, as well as within the highly diverse religious and cultural landscape already present on the Old Continent, dialogue is of vital importance.
The role of religion in this context is decisive, since it shapes, to a large and substantial extent, the level of civilisation. As Hans Küng observes, there can be no peace between peoples and civilisations without peace between religions 14. It is true that we are witnessing the building of the new Europe, and in this endeavour we have the duty and responsibility to make a contribution, so that European coexistence may serve as the creative starting point leading to the fulfilment of the ecumenical aspiration. Now, perhaps more than ever, is the time for Orthodox theology, which is called upon to conform to what its way of life represents. Its resources are drawn both from its two-thousand-year-old experience and, above all, from what it mediates and brings as the good news. The concept of God as love, extended without distinction to the whole world; respect for the freedom and dignity of the human person, who is God’s creation and bears His image; the soteriological dimension of love, as demonstrated in the Person of the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ—all these represent the self-awareness of the Orthodox Tradition, which has been put to the test in practice over the centuries in its coexistence with other religions. In this sense, the Christian is an ecumenical person 15, always called, through his example, to teach and to serve.
Extreme phenomena have existed and will always exist on all sides. Where a selfish and anthropocentric distortion of the phenomenon of faith prevails, where socio-political, economic and various other interests are cloaked in the guise of religion to conceal their aims, there we shall always be confronted with the dark side of human nature, with people’s secularised lives, with their individualistic and egocentric view of the world and society; we shall find ourselves face to face with religious fanaticism and religious intolerance 16. However, there will always be common ground to seek, which is none other than unity and peace, the offering of relief from human suffering, which knows no barriers of nationalism or other limitations, and the need to heal and protect the very environment of our increasingly threatened world. Orthodox theology, as a word of existence and, at the same time, of life, is a word of the heart, which is not confined by limits and embraces humanity as God’s creation. Saint Gregory Palamas teaches us the fundamental requirement for encounter and dialogue with the other, which is, first and foremost, knowledge of our own identity and Tradition 17. He himself knew who he was, knew what he believed, and, with this self-awareness, was able to listen attentively to his interlocutor. By avoiding the forgetting of the truth, he was free, in accordance with the words ‘you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free’ (John 8:32). In the case of Saint Gregory Palamas, we have the experience of the living ecclesiastical word, which is not a word of abstract notions or from a rationalist standpoint, but expresses a person, this Person of the Word, Who is the foundation of the human person and, par excellence, ‘the Way, the Truth and the Life’ (John 14:6). This ecclesiocentric foundation must be maintained in the articulation of any dialectical relationship, so as to infuse it with the pulse of life—that is, the certain hope of fulfilment. In this way, concepts such as freedom, cooperation, democracy, social status, peace and, ultimately, the coexistence of peoples do not remain mere slogans and empty declarations.
In a world of rapid developments and changes, of social reorganisation and the emergence of a new form of civilisation known as globalisation, in a world of multiple accelerations at various levels of action, Orthodox Theology, free from marginalisation and prejudice, with vivid figures such as Saint Gregory Palamas, still has much to offer and can clarify the constant point of contact with other religions, which is humanity and its struggle for life. In an era in which we have experienced, in a harsh and orchestrated manner, the so-called ‘clash of civilisations’ was experienced in a harsh and controlled manner; in an age when human hope seems to be belied—that is, the notion that ‘a time will come when we shall agree amongst ourselves’— it is fitting to heed, with particular vigour and the firm resolve to bring it to pass, the words of the Bishop of Thessaloniki: ‘I too agreed and prayed that that time might come soon’.
- 1
It appears that Saint Gregory Palamas stayed at this monastery, about whose founder – who later became Bishop of Nicaea – little is known (it is confirmed that this monastery existed at the time of the Seventh Ecumenical Council, which took place in Nicaea in 787), until the end of his captivity. This captivity lasted from March 1354 until the spring of 1355, during which time he was taken to several places (translator’s note).
- 2
Gregory Palamas, To His Own Church 23, 16, in idem, Writings, vol. IV, ed. P. Christou, Thessaloniki, 1988, p. 133.
- 3
Gregory Palamas, To His Own Church 29, 7–9, in op. cit., p. 138.
- 4
Gregory Palamas, To His Own Church 29, 10–11, in op. cit., p. 138.
- 5
Gregory Palamas, To His Own Church 29, 12–13, in op. cit., p. 138.
- 6
Gregory Palamas, To His Own Church 13, 7–16, 10, in op. cit., pp. 127–129.
- 7
Gregory Palamas, To His Own Church 17, 4, in op. cit., p. 130. As this dialogue was an official one, and the relevant information was recorded by Taronitis, Saint Gregory Palamas did not include it in his Letter in question, in which he merely refers to it.
- 8
They were Jews who had converted to Islam (translator’s note).
- 9
Gregory Palamas, A Discourse to the Atheists of Chios, written by a physician from Tarone, who was present at and witnessed the event, in op. cit., pp. 148–165.
- 10
Gregory Palamas, Lecture 16, 32, in op. cit., pp. 164–165.
- 11
Gregory Palamas, To His Own Church 23, 26, in op. cit., p. 133.
- 12
This study was written in 2008 (translator’s note).
- 13
Gregory Palamas, To His Own Church 28, 1, in op. cit., p. 138.
- 14
See H. Küng, ‘No World Peace without Religious Peace. An ecumenical path between fanaticism for truth and the neglect of truth’, in H. Küng, K. J. Kuschel, World Peace through Religious Peace: Responses from the World’s Religions, Munich, Zurich, 1993, pp. 21–49.
- 15
That is to say, open to dialogue, whilst remaining firm in his convictions (translator’s note).
- 16
See Marios Begzos, ‘The Dialogue between Religions in Byzantine Thought’, in the Scientific Yearbook of the School of Theology of the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, New Series, Volume 2, Thessaloniki, 1994, p. 195; Athanasios Karmi, ‘Globalisation–Globality’, in the Scientific Yearbook of the School of Theology of the University of Athens, Volume LST, Athens, 2001, p. 898.
- 17
For general information, see Konstantinos Delikonstantis, ‘The Theory of the Clash of Civilisations and the Relevance of Interfaith Dialogue’, in Orthodoxy and the Ecumene, Festschrift in honour of Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew I, Armos Publications, Athens, 2000, pp. 139–152.