More Bishops, Please

Recently I was re-reading a good but somewhat dated book about the episcopate, entitled The Apostolic Ministry, a collection of essays edited by Bishop Kenneth Kirk and published 1946.  In one piece, written by Beatrice Hamilton Thompson on the “Post-Reformation Episcopate in England”, the author compared the state of the episcopate at the time Archbishop of Canterbury Matthew Parker (d. 1575) to that of the episcopate at the time of St. Cyprian of Carthage (d. 258).  In a footnote she explained that “in Cyprian’s day, bishops were elected by the general consent or testimony of three categories of persons—the clergy of the diocese, the laity, and the other bishops of the province.  The State, or rather the Crown, has entered as a fourth party, in the course of time, into the appointment.  The state of affairs as it existed in Cyprian’s day does not hold good in modern times, when the Christian community is too large and unwieldy to exercise a democratic control over the appointment of bishops” (italics mine).    By this she meant that in Cyprian’s day the bishop was the local pastor, exercising liturgical and spiritual leadership over all the congregations in his own city, and perhaps in the surrounding farmland around the city.  As such, he was elected by all the Christians in that city and by the city’s clergy (i.e. the presbyters), with the blessing of the bishops of the surrounding area.  It was a very local affair—small and contained enough to be described as “democratic control”—that is, all the people of the city knew the candidates well and chose their own bishop on the basis of that knowledge.

       Thompson compared this to the state of the episcopate in Tudor England, where not only the Crown appointed the bishops, but the size of the bishop’s diocese was no longer confined to the congregations of the city in which he lived.  Now the bishop’s diocese included other cities as well—an area so large and “unwieldy” as to preclude the Christians in it exercising “democratic control”.  The bishop’s pastoral charge (or diocese) was now so large that the people’s knowledgeable consent was impractical.

        Apart from the role of the Crown in choosing bishops, this situation continues to obtain to this day—as it did in many days before those of Archbishop Parker.  Today the bishop’s diocese is not confined to his own city, town, or hamlet, but includes vast areas around his city, so that the bishop’s diocese is very large indeed.  This situation precludes not only “democratic control” at the time of a bishop’s election, but also effective episcopal pastoral care throughout the diocese.

       Consider the ancient way:  in Cyprian’s time, every city, town, or hamlet had its own bishop.  (Later on John Chrysostom would say there was “need for many bishops, that one might preside in every city”.)  In those days, the bishop served Liturgy surrounded by his presbyters, and ideally all the Christians of the city or town attended that Sunday Liturgy.  If the Christians of the city were too numerous to fit into one place, an “overflow” congregation elsewhere in the city would be held at the same time, presided over by one of the bishop’s presbyters.  But even so, the bishop was the real pastor of all the Christians of the city—he was the one who baptized them all, who excommunicated the offenders who needed excommunication, and restored the penitent to the communion of the Church when they repented.  It was the bishop’s confession of faith that was the standard for everyone there and which was the basis of inter-communion between the Christians of that city and the next.  He was elected by the people and the presbyters because they knew him and trusted him, and was their bishop for as long as he lived.

       Obviously, this is no longer the case.  In our own OCA, for example, the bishop of Philadelphia is not only the bishop of that city, but of all the OCA parishes in eastern Pennsylvania.  The bishop of Dallas is bishop not only of Dallas, but of a large swath of the southern United States.  In Canada it is even more interesting:  the bishop of Ottawa is not only the bishop of the capital city, but of the entire country, from the Pacific to the Atlantic and up to the Arctic circle.  Today the geographical indicator “bishop of (city X)” means largely nothing more than the fact that his cathedral is located in that city.  He might be rarely found there however, since his episcopal duties require his presence through his far-flung diocese.

       My point is not one of protest, but simply to point out how alien this system is from that of the early church.  In those days, every city had its own bishop so that the bishop could be the local pastor to all the city’s Christians.  Today, with larger dioceses and fewer bishops, this is no longer the case.  Our present system tends of necessity to turn pastors into administrators—not because the bishops are not pastoral, but because real pastoral care requires that the pastor be local.   

If someone in my parish has a baby or ends up in the emergency department of a hospital, the urgently required pastoral care cannot come from the bishop because he is too far away.  In Cyprian’s time, the bishop could attend to the newly born or the sick because he lived close by.  This is no longer possible.

       We Orthodox (along with Roman Catholics and Anglicans) who have an episcopal polity do not always recognize this profound change in the role of a bishop.  The name of bishop remains the same, as does his task of ruling over the presbyters of his diocese and his task of ordaining clergy, but the context in which he performs these tasks has changed practically out of recognition. 

       In Cyprian’s time, the bishop presided as head of a council of presbyters.  It was this presbyteral council that ruled the local church (i.e. the diocese) under the moral authority of the bishop.  That is, the bishop was the head of the local church, but he did not rule in a solitude of power like a sea captain in days of sail, but along with his presbyters who had a real role in making decisions. 

For example, note what St. Ignatius of Antioch (the earliest extant example of so-called “monarchical episcopacy”) wrote. To the Trallians he wrote, “Do nothing without the bishop, but be subject also the council of presbyters” (2.2).  Bishop Ignatius paired the presbyters with their episcopal head as the ruling body in the church.  And when Bishop Alexander of Alexandria wanted to depose Arius, he did not do so by himself, but needed to call his fellow presbyters, even though Arius had already been condemned by a synod. 

The bishop therefore ruled as part of team—the head of the team, but a team nonetheless.  This was visually expressed every Sunday at the Eucharist:  the bishop presided at the Liturgy, surrounded by his concelebrating presbyters who stood on either side of him as his council.  At the Eucharist one could see them together, functioning as the team they were.

Ms. Thompson, along with many others, doubtless thought that such a system of local leadership could never be restored but was gone forever.  Dioceses must be large and unwieldy and comprise more than a single city or town with its surrounding countryside.  Otherwise, it was felt, the dignity of the bishop would be impaired if (as Chrysostom observed) “a bishop presided in every city”.  In this view, the comparative scarcity of bishops was essential to their dignity.

I suggest that the dignity of the bishop would remain what it was in the days of Cyprian and that it is not dependent upon things like numbers, money, or political clout.  The true dignity of a bishop is rooted in him being the beloved pastor of his flock, the one to whom the sheep look with affection, admiration, and respect because he is the one who cares for them, teaches them, and leads them.  They look to him as their father, the one who gave them life at the baptismal font, who proclaims to them the Word of life, and who feeds them with the Body and Blood of the Saviour.  I believe that episcopal dignity would increase if a bishop were made the local pastor, not decrease.

That would mean, of course, that we would need more bishops.  Obviously, we could not immediately return to the early pattern of a bishop for every city, town, and hamlet.  But we may at least acknowledge how far the episcopal office has departed from that pattern, and how the pastoral aspect of the bishop’s office has been correspondingly diminished.  And we could start by at least trying to multiply sees in the Church.  (Here one may point out that more bishops for such a project would become instantly available if the jurisdictional overlapping could be overcome here in the West in a united autocephalous church.)

Such a return to an earlier pattern would greatly increase the number of bishops in a Holy Synod and call for a transformation in the ways decisions are made at such gatherings.  It would be idle to deny that great changes would have to be made in the way the Church currently governs itself.

Is the dream of more and local bishops really impractical and impossible?  Maybe.  But, inspired by the apostolic pattern and canonical norm of one bishop per city and a bishop ruling as the pastor his city, one can always dream.  Indeed, maybe such dreaming is a part of the Pentecostal package for the Church:  on the Day of Pentecost, Peter cited the prophecy in which Joel predicted the coming of the Spirit upon God’s people.  In that day, the prophet said, young men would see visions, and old men would dream dreams.  Perhaps the dream of this old man is one of them.