Reformations and Negotiations
An Orthodox Priest's Anecdote on Freedom in Tbilisi, Georgia
About the author: Rev. Andria Sarias, hailing from Tbilisi, Georgia, is a scholar whose journey began at Tbilisi Theological Seminary and culminated at the University of Georgia (PhD). He specializes in church history and theology, with most recently obtaining a ThM at Columbia Theological Seminary. He has had notable roles in both academic and spiritual institutions. Passionate about advancing knowledge, Andria has authored numerous publications, reflecting his dedication to scholarly discourse.
I come from a background deeply rooted in Orthodox Christianity. In my family, it was a longstanding tradition that all born into it adhered to the Eastern Orthodox Church exclusively. Yet, it is important to note that this connection was more cultural than from deeply held belief. Following the collapse of the Soviet Union, a vast majority of people in regions like Georgia, Russia, and Ukraine were baptized into this tradition, shaping it as a ubiquitous cultural norm.1
In contexts like these, faith is transformed into a pillar of national identity, much like one’s cultural heritage, which is ingrained through birth and one’s upbringing.2 Similarly, one’s religious commitment is perceived as unchangeable. Society regards the decision to alter one’s faith with bitterness and resistance, deeming it thoroughly unacceptable.3 While atheism or irregular church attendance may be tolerated, changing religious affiliation is met with staunch disapproval.4 The church has full support from both the state and education system to be the prevailing and dominant voice in society.
The advocacy for Orthodox morality, both within the state and among its populace, aims to instill a particular belief system.5 Yet, this stance frequently impedes the adoption of reforms within the church and fosters intolerance toward differing faiths and ideologies. Consequently, those diverging from these norms often encounter persecution, resulting in profound psychological anguish for many.
The church ought to embrace innovation in its traditions and break free from insular practices. Being confined within rigid structures can inadvertently amplify power dynamics, which are often overlooked even by hierarchs themselves.6 Such unwillingness to change can manifest itself in various forms of violence, whether psychological, moral, or sexual. There is a tendency to demonize anything deemed unacceptable by the church, resulting in the personal unraveling of individuals. Bishop Spiridon remarked that individuals, such as the public defender endorsing same-sex marriage, “ought not to be permitted access to orphanages or any family setting.”7 In light of this, Spiridon’s statement is noteworthy, prompting the necessary advocacy for the rights of children who are determined to be untouchable.8
In the past, my theological beliefs leaned heavily toward conservatism, especially concerning the church’s position on same-sex marriage. Guided by a theological interpretation of “sexual morality,” I once advocated in a BBC interview for clergy to abstain from such unions. And at the same time, I recognized that beyond the church’s confines, individuals possessed societal autonomy to choose for themselves. Looking back, I realize my perspective, which was influenced by a strong adherence to tradition, intruded deeply upon the personal lives of individuals. Regrettably, this approach caused much harm, with some individuals tragically taking their own lives due to familial and societal pressures. I failed to grasp the impact of my beliefs. It was not until my time at Columbia Theological Seminary where my perspective underwent a profound transformation. I came to recognize that what I once labeled as love was, in reality, a form of hate. I had been denying people their right to choose in the name of God, a devastating pattern which persists in certain traditional faiths today.
The Orthodox faith itself is not inherently malevolent.9 On the contrary, orthodoxy becomes malevolent when individuals interpret and wield its teachings into a potent weapon that turns religion into a source of hatred rather than love. I firmly believe that with proper education and a commitment to engage nuance, anyone can undergo a positive transformation. And when I speak of education, I mean true knowledge, not just consuming vast amounts of literature.10 It entails grasping the notion that human life and personal moral values should not be subject to faith-based scrutiny. Instead, such matters should be carefully regulated by the state, especially in a world rife with diverse Christian denominations and religious beliefs. This approach ensures that no single belief system can dominate, serving as a bulwark against extremist ideologies.
I posit that tolerance and love represent the paramount solution to systems of domination. Love, particularly during moments of societal upheaval, necessitates a profound engagement with ideas, challenging traditional norms, and invoking a divine imperative. Christianity, fundamentally, embodies the ethos of reform, as demonstrated by God’s sacrificial intervention into humanity’s history. This divine sacrifice epitomizes the essence of love found within the Trinity. As elucidated by Philaret, this sacrifice conveys the “crucifying love of the Father, the crucified love of the Son, and the love of the Holy Spirit triumphant through the power of the Cross.”11 Through the paradigmatic ethic of trinitarian love, tradition undergoes transformation, paving the way for the possibility and embrace of human love. Furthermore, individuals can emulate the Trinity’s divine act by transcending traditions rooted in human animosity and turning to an embrace of love. As Khomiakov affirmed, “The knowledge of the truth is given to mutual love.”12
While we may engage in dialogue and debate with tradition, it is essential not to fall back into antiquity. Protestant theology embraces this openness, offering a pathway for Orthodox theology to foster greater acceptance and love in specific areas. It is imperative to cultivate affection while liberating and reforming ourselves from antiquated traditions and customs which foster individual division.
John Stuart Mill once stated: “Your freedom ends where someone else’s begins.” These words have resonated with me ever since I first encountered them two years ago. Over time, my contemplation of this concept has deepened considerably. For as many individuals exist in the world, there are sure to be just as many interpretations of Mill’s maxim. Indeed, the myriad definitions of freedom reflect the diversity of human thought. Nonetheless, one point of consensus emerges: freedom is both essential and elusive. Each person traverses their own unique path toward freedom, often at varying paces and in divergent directions. Yet, it is a universal desire to attain it in some form. Regrettably, I must acknowledge the futile cases of seeking this paramount condition, as well as the fruitlessness of yearning for that which may never be fully attained. Like the unreachable horizon, true freedom may forever remain beyond our grasp. Achieving true closeness might deceive us, for in truth, it remains elusive.
Entering the parlay of many interpretations, I find freedom to be more about action. One cannot remain stagnant, rooted in one spot, and still claim freedom. True freedom entails liberation and continuous evolution. And yet, with this there exists another extreme—a dynamic individual who appears free but lacks true autonomy. To me, freedom means becoming the architect of one’s own identity, embracing self-reinvention, and embracing the world with openness. It means having the autonomy and courage to shape one’s own path, making decisions independently and resisting external influence to foster personal growth and transformation. This, in its simplest form, defines freedom.
In the Georgian language, “თავისუფალი” (“free”) translates to both “self” and “God,” suggesting that one is their own teacher. This connection to the divine underscores the supremacy of freedom over all other emotions, actions, traditions, or circumstances. Without God, we might not even comprehend the significance of freedom. In my view, God has bestowed upon us three precious gifts: freedom, hope, and the capacity to love. The unfolding universe pales in comparison to these. Among them, freedom reigns supreme as the other two have no relevancy without it. However, this freedom is primarily spiritual, transcending material constraints. Even physical limitations cannot compare to the anguish of a constrained soul. For me, the journey from tradition to reform epitomizes freedom’s importance and primacy. It begins with self-awareness and culminates in understanding the world, and yet conversely remaining unattainable.
Rather than lamenting this fact, we should embrace it, for unchecked freedom leads to chaos. If one were granted boundless freedom, it is plausible they would encroach upon the freedoms of others, transgressing not only their own liberties but also impinging upon life, choice, and other rights—a tendency some traditional institutions exhibit in the name of divinity. In essence, we yearn for that which we can only partially grasp. That said, even this fractional possession brings immeasurable joy, such that were we to possess it fully, we might lose self-control. As we comprehend it, full-fledged freedom lies more within the domain of divinity than humanity, distributed by the divine, perhaps as an aspect of life itself. However, akin to knowledge, freedom exhibits a unique trait—when shared, it neither diminishes nor dilutes but amplifies others.
Causing harm to someone else's soul is not punishable by law in all countries, and there is no obligation for anyone to compensate for moral damages; at times, such matters are simply overlooked. I recently came across a small poem, and a particular line resonates with me: He who strips another person of their freedom is also enslaved…
Snuffing out another’s radiant light is an act of malevolence. Can a genuinely happy, pleasant, and virtuous person be consumed by the suffering of others? Freedom not only fosters autonomy but also demands responsibility. The absence of inner radiance prompts me to perceive aloofness in others. Tradition, with its entrenched norms and customs, has the potential to obscure one’s vision. When one is deeply rooted in a single culture without exposure to others, their perception of the world is inevitably shaped by that singular perspective. Consequently, it becomes challenging to view things, individuals, and surroundings from alternative angles, thus resulting in a restrictive worldview. I understand this phenomenon specifically within the Orthodox Tradition as “the blurring of the eyes from a traditional standpoint.” Breaking free from entrenched traditional beliefs requires significant effort and diligence to cultivate liberative thinking, which is a task that is undeniably arduous.
Today, I find it easy to articulate the essence of freedom. Freedom entails cherishing each day, oneself, and all of humanity. I believe that if we are truly free, then our love for others will be its manifestation. Painful freedom represents the purest form of love. And yet, no matter how much we delve into discussions about freedom, we will never arrive at the truest answer, because there is always going to be elusivity to the questions around freedom no matter how essential its reality may be.
Delve into the intricate connections between church life, national identity, and the political dimensions of faith by exploring Tamar Grdzelidze’s illuminating work Ecclesial Boundaries and National Identity in the Orthodox Church (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2023).
Clifford Geertz posits that the foundational ties of nationalism—like language, culture, and religious alignment—nurture one’s individual yearning to establish new states. He contends that this drive serves two distinct purposes: one is the quest for recognition, a public affirmation of identity, while the other is pragmatic, seeking progress through improved living standards, enhanced political structures, and increased social equity. Clifford Geertz, “Primordial Sentiments and Civil Politics in the New States, in Old Societies and New States,” in The Quest for Modernity in Asia and Africa, ed. Clifford Geertz (New York: Free Press, 1963), 108.
Tamta Mikeladze et al., Freedom of Religion—Critique of Discriminatory and Non-Secular State Policy (Tbilisi: Human Rights and Monitoring Center, 2016), 87–95.
For more information, see Ekaterine Chitanava and Mariam Gavtadze, Limitations to Freedom of Religion or Belief in Georgia: Legislation and State Policy, https://brill.com/view/journals/rhrs/15/1-2/article-p153_9.xml?language=en#FN000024.
Occasionally, such manifestations can escalate to radical and profoundly objectionable extremes. For further insight into this matter, I recommend reading the article available at Fair Observer.
I will not delve into what Protestant theology ought to contemplate, but I highly recommend a valuable resource: John P. Burgess, Encounters with Orthodoxy: How Protestant Churches Can Reform Themselves (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013). It is a compelling read and worth consulting.
You will find more details on this issue here: “Why a Church Orphanage has Sparked Outrage in Georgia.”
Regarding the unfolding events at Ninotsminda Children's Boarding School, I attended the rally to safeguard the children and subsequently received a note from the church along with a threat. Watch the video for context:
For contemporary perspectives on Orthodox theology, see Paul Ladouceur, Modern Orthodox Theology: ‘Behold, I Make All Things New’ (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2019).
As Roman Williams puts it, knowledge "from outside" involves making sense of the objects around us; whereas the gnosis bestowed by God is a “receiving” of the logoi, not a process where human knowers deploy rational structures of things to construct a coherent representation of the world. In the knowledge that originates from God, the logoi, activated by God, acts upon us, not the other way around. See Rowan Williams, “The Embodied Logos: Reason, Knowledge, and Relation,” in Faith, Reason, and Theosis, ed. Aristotle Papanikolaou and George E. Demacopoulos, 1st ed. (New York: Fordham University Press, 2023), 268.
Cited in Georges Florovsky, Puti Russkogo Bogoslovie (trans: The Ways of Russian Theology) (Paris, 1937), 181.
Metropolitan Kallistos Ware, Orthodox Theology in the Twenty-First Century (Geneva: World Council of Churches Publications, 2012), 17.
I have to disagree with your statement that reform is the essence of Christianity. Instead, I affirm that the church must navigate the challenges of staying true to the church's Great Tradition while also seeking reform. When reform is seen as the church's essence, then the church runs the risk of becoming captive to every passing wind of doctrine, some of which has only a very tenuous connection with the catholic and apostolic faith.
A profound and illuminating reflection. My own thinking about freedom wants to emphasise the priority of covenant over autonomy and the individual. Which is to say that as our God is essentially in triune relationship in God-self, so creation is originally and essentially in covenantal relationship with the creator, and so in turn our relationships with one another and with all of creation are essentially, originally covenantal. We are not autonomous individuals called to enter into loving relationship with 'the other'. We are already, originally, and always in relationship. 'We' is in every sense prior to 'I'. Our redeemer has set us free to hear and enact his call to 'love one another', even our 'enemies', by becoming what, as God's creatures, we already are.