preface to volume vi: history

Romanian Catholic Diocese

of St. George in Canton, Ohio

I first encountered then-Father Kallistos in an article in Cross Currents. He was a member of an interfaith panel discussing similarities and differences among world religions. In that group were some who became rather well known as teachers in Eastern (non-Christian) and “New Age” traditions. Father Kallistos stood out in this group and set what became the touchstone of my own ecumenical and interfaith involvements many years later: The incarnation of God in Jesus Christ is the unique and definitive characteristic of Christianity, shared with no other religion. 

Later, having studied theology at Holy Cross Greek Orthodox Seminary, I certainly knew of Bishop Kallistos Ware and his writings and translations into English of liturgical texts and the Eastern Fathers of The Philokalia. In the English-speaking world, he was probably the most influential author, theologian, and educator of the 20th and even into the early 21st century. For me as an Eastern Catholic, he was a source of understanding the spirituality of my own faith tradition that was difficult to find within the Catholic Church.

So, it was truly a blessing when I learned he was going to be a speaker at the first Orientale Lumen Conference in Washington, DC, in June 1997.  I always had a strong interest in ecumenical dialogue, and the links between Eastern Orthodox and Eastern Catholics, and so the opportunity to participate in an “open to the public” ecumenical event with Bishop Kallistos present was a significant opportunity for me.  I registered as a participant not quite knowing what to expect.

To my surprise there were 100 other (see group photo, page 165) lay persons, clergy, academics, and theologians who felt like me—Church unity has to develop from the “bottom up” and be based on “grass roots” involvement.  The first conference had all the ingredients—lectures for the mind, fellowship for the heart, and prayer services for the soul. I met many ecumenical friends there and in subsequent years, especially Bishop, later Metropolitan, Kallistos.  

There were several hierarchs present for that first conference:  Archbishop Vsevolod of Scopelos (Ukrainian Orthodox), Bishop Andrew Pataki (Ruthenian Catholic), Bishop Nicholas Samra (Melkite Catholic), Bishop Basil Losten (Ukrainian Catholic), Bishop Kallistos of Diokleia (Greek Orthodox), Bishop Florentin Crihalmeanu (Romanian Catholic), and myself, the newly consecrated (the year before) bishop of the Romanian Greek Catholic Diocese in Canton, OH.  Each of us played a role, either as a speaker or as a liturgical presider.  I had come simply as a spectator, a participant. But, by the end of the week, at the last session to discuss next steps, Vsevolod, Kallistos, Florentin, and I were the “last men standing”!  Kallistos and Florentin were from Europe, and so, Vsevolod and I became the co-patrons—one Orthodox and one Catholic—of the Society of St. Chrysostom, which later became the Orientale Lumen Foundation.  On Vsevolod’s passing in 2007, Metropolitan Kallistos agreed to step in and be the Orthodox co-patron, which he did until his passing in 2022.

Over the last 25 or more years, I have been able to learn directly from Kallistos, in person, during our encounters at the Orientale Lumen Conferences in the U.S. and Constantinople. As he often quoted from Belgian Cardinal Suenens, “to be united in Christ, we must love one another; to love one another we must get to know one another; to know one another we must meet face to face, prosopon.” So, I have had many opportunities to meet Kallistos prosopon, and to learn from him, and I hope he learned from me.

In planning the conferences over the years, Jack Figel, the founder and annual chairman, and I would often talk not only about topics and speakers, but especially about what prayer services we could hold where everyone would feel welcome.  It was not so difficult to have an Orthodox celebrant—Archbishop Vsevolod was always willing to celebrate the Divine Liturgy, in English or with some Church Slavonic, or any of the other non-Eucharistic services of the Byzantine Tradition which many of us shared. He was also enthusiastic about leading a non-Eucharistic prayer service (see the Moleben on page 167 including me and Cardinal Cassidy from the Vatican) with a Catholic hierarch.  In the early years, Metropolitan Kallistos was not so willing; he had to be very careful, given his wide-ranging reputation.  Once or twice, however, as you will see in the photos of this volume, he joined in the service when there was a group of hierarchs, especially when Patriarch Gregorios or the Papal Nuncio was present.  Kallistos knew the proper protocols to follow.

The fifth conference in 2001, however, had a larger crowd (nearly 150) and some of the most intense Eucharistic services I’ve ever seen.  There were four hierarchical Divine Liturgies scheduled, one each morning, Tuesday through Friday (see pages 172-73). Not only did the Moleben on Monday evening start with eight hierarchs (including two cardinals), but the Liturgies became progressively more elaborate, day by day.  On Tuesday it was the Roman Catholic Pontifical Mass.  On Wednesday it was the Holy Qurbana of the Assyrian Church of the East. On Wednesday three Orthodox hierarchs (Metropolitan Kallistos, Metropolitan Nicholas of Amissos, Carpatho-Rusyn, and Archbishop Vsevolod) celebrated the Byzantine Hierarchical Divine Liturgy.  On Friday morning I celebrated a Byzantine Hierarchical Divine Liturgy.  Amazingly, all were celebrated on the same High Altar of the Upper Church in the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception, and all used the same Gospel passage that includes John 17:21— “That they may all be one.”  Metropolitan Kallistos instinctively knew when and how to participate in everything.

For the conferences held in Constantinople, Kallistos’s presence enhanced the conferences in many ways.  First, he was well-known and respected at the Ecumenical Patriarchate, which was valuable in arranging private audiences with His All-Holiness Patriarch Bartholomew.  In fact, the patriarch would not only meet us in his offices, but also come to our meeting place to welcome us to Constantinople (see page 233).  Second, Kallistos was a true monastic; in the monasteries we visited—Baloukli, Halki, and on Patmos—he was on his “home turf” and quite relaxed in speaking about them and their history (see page 238). Especially being a professed monk of St. John the Evangelist Monastery on Patmos, he was literally giving us a tour of “his home.” I understand he went to Patmos for a few weeks almost every summer during university holidays. Third, his encyclopedic mind could launch into a 10-minute answer to a question or give a 30-minute lecture on the 7th Ecumenical Council in the actual building where it was held in Nicaea (see page 235).  Fourth, many of his talks included anecdotal stories that are both humorous and educational, and therefore memorable.  I don’t remember how many times I’ve heard him tell the story of the old woman and the onion!  But every time seems fresh, and as he himself commented often, “you might have heard this before, but an old professor of mine used to say that people feel good when they hear something they already know.” (see page 243).

My final comment is to marvel at how effectively His Grace was able to summarize the contents of his book The Orthodox Church, his most well-known and popular book of 360 pages (1993 edition), down to nine 40-minute lectures that make up the first 100 pages of this volume.  Jack tells me that Kallistos recorded the lectures in his study in Oxford by simply looking at the nine chapter headings and speaking extemporaneously for 45 minutes about each topic, without a text or even notes (see page 250, AE-47) over the course of just three days.  Sometimes when he was introduced at a parish, the audience would be asked how many converted to Orthodoxy because of that book.  Typically, more than half the room would raise their hands.  On one occasion, the introducer was the metropolitan primate of the Orthodox Church in America, who also raised his hand himself (see page 248).  

Such was Metropolitan Kallistos—historian, theologian, patristic scholar, ecumenist, but most of all, a consummate teacher and spiritual guide. It is a matter of great joy and not a little pride that for a time I was able to call him my friend.