Pope Benedict XVI’s last seven days have opened a window on the current state of Christian ecumenism. They have shown how far ecumenical relations between Christians have come, and yet how things have not turned out exactly as hoped.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

ADVERTISEMENT

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Last Thursday, Benedict received the archbishop of Canterbury on his first official visit to Rome, and today the pope celebrates the Feast of St. Andrew at the Phanar, seat of the Patriarch of Constantinople, Bartholomew I. Just 40 years ago, encounters between Canterbury and Rome, or Rome and Constantinople, were historic. It is a measure of ecumenical progress that such encounters have become routine. Indeed, if the Regensburg lecture had not so inflamed the perpetually flammable extremists in the Islamic world, it is likely there would have been little interest in the papal visit to Turkey at all.

Ecumenism is not about friendly encounters only, as good as they might be. The biblical mandate for Christian unity stresses that unity is for a purpose. As Jesus prays in John 17: That they all may be one … so that the world may believe. Unity is a good in itself, but it is also intended to permit a compelling evangelical witness to the world. While ecumenism has progressed since Vatican II, the common witness has not kept pace.

On the Anglican front, the prospect of unity has disappeared precisely because it is not clear what the Anglican Communion believes. Archbishop Rowan Williams’s visit to Rome was marked by open speculation in Britain that the Anglican Communion will formally disintegrate at the 2008 Lambeth Conference. The proximate cause will be the debate over the morality of  homosexual acts. Some argue that they are sinful; others that they are sacramental. This is an unbridgeable gap and it appears impossible for Canterbury to straddle it, try as he might.

In any case, Benedict announced in Canterbury’s presence, obligatory formalities and niceties notwithstanding, that for all intents and purposes Catholic-Anglican ecumenical relations will soon come to an end:

Recent developments, especially concerning the ordained ministry and certain moral teachings, have affected not only internal relations within the Anglican Communion but also relations between the Anglican Communion and the Catholic Church. We believe that these matters, which are presently under discussion within the Anglican Communion, are of vital importance to the preaching of the Gospel in its integrity, and that your current discussions will shape the future of our relations.

The future of those relations, should Anglicanism continue in its embrace of doctrinal novelties, will be one only of friendly encounters. The structures of dialogue will continue, but the prospect of communion will be gone. There will be no prospect of unity, as there is diminishing common belief that can be given witness to.

On the Orthodox side, where theological differences are relatively small, the prospect of common witness is elusive. The two principal centers of Orthodoxy are Constantinople, by precedence, and Moscow, by numbers. In both cases the patriarchs are under intense pressure from their respective states, and their freedom to act on the global stage is circumscribed. The visit of the pope to the patriarch of Constantinople is, in part, an act of solidarity with a beleaguered brother under the thumb of the secularist Turkish state.

It is remarkable that the visit of the pope to Turkey would be considered a critical test of Christian-Muslim relations. Given that the patriarch of Constantinople lives in Turkey, it might be thought that there is no need to await the arrival of Rome for that interreligious encounter. Constantinople used to be Christendom’s second city; after all Bartholomew’s official title is Archbishop of Constantinople and New Rome. Yes, much has happened since 1453, but the fact that Turkey is no longer considered a place of Christian-Muslim encounter is evidence of how far Orthodoxy has been pushed to the margins.

Indeed, the last week has highlighted how it now falls to the pope to speak for global Christianity in a way that was not anticipated 40 years ago. While it was thought then that Rome would always have a certain primacy, the hope was that ecumenism would produce a stronger Christian voice, a joint voice of powerful evangelical witness. The contrary is happened; over the course of four decades Rome has declared itself irrevocably committed to the ecumenical path, and has found itself increasingly the only voice on the global stage. Who else can speak for Christianity? Call it the man in white’s burden, if you will.

Archbishop Williams confirmed the increasingly marginal role of Anglicanism in world Christianity on his October trip to China. He was permitted to visit China on the condition that he only met with people approved by the government. That the Chinese government, still a ferocious persecutor of religion, would consider Canterbury harmless enough for a visit speaks volumes. In their judgment, there was no danger of a troublesome Christian witness from Dr. Williams. He has a voice, but little to say. As for Patriarch Bartholomew, the Turkish government does not even recognize his international status as the primus inter pares of all Orthodoxy. He has something to say, but he is not permitted to have a voice.

The net result is that there are fewer Christian voices than there should be — the exact opposite of what the ecumenical project would have foreseen. This is a troublesome situation — to say the least —in a world where religious forces are growing more influential, and the challenge of religious violence is more pressing. Benedict’s trip to Turkey highlights one of the incongruities of the current situation; almost anyone can speak for Islam, but who speaks for Christians? It is usually put the other way around, observing that Islam has no central doctrinal authority. True enough, but on matters Islamic, it is customary for any Islamic head of government to speak for Islam in a way Christian heads of government do not. This reached absurd proportions in Turkey, where Benedict consented to meet with the president of the state religious-affairs bureaucracy, Ali Burdakoglu, in his own offices. No doubt a gracious olive branch after the unpleasantness of post-Regensburg, it was odd to see the pope of Rome speaking to Islam in the person of a state bureaucrat. That this was selected as the primary Christian-Muslim encounter of the trip only underscored the strangeness at which we have arrived: Only the pope is seen to speak for Christians, but anyone can speak for Islam.

This is not a good situation; the world needs more Christian voices in conversation with Islam, not fewer. But Benedict’s ecumenical week has demonstrated that those other voices are faint indeed.

 — Father Raymond J. de Souza is a chaplain at Queen's University in Ontario.