Address and Occasion

Photius, by the mercy of God enthroned in the Apostolic see of Constantinople and servant of the servants of God, to the most holy and blessed patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem, and to the right honorable and Christ-loving bishops and clergy under their canonical pastoral care: grace and peace from God the Father and from our Lord Jesus Christ be with you in full measure. It is both the law of love and the ordinance of right reason, most holy brothers and co-ministers in the grace of the Holy Spirit, that those who are set as shepherds over the flock of God should keep one another informed of what concerns the household of faith, so that the healthy parts may be preserved in health and the ailing may receive prompt remedy, and that everything may be administered with prudence for the glory of God and the salvation of the faithful. For we are stewards of one and the same mystery; we serve one and the same Lord; we bear responsibility before one and the same tribunal. In this spirit, and constrained by the gravity of present circumstances, I have determined to write to your holinesses concerning matters that grieve and trouble the soul of every lover of Christ.

I would have preferred silence. There are moments when the pastor would rather keep quiet than speak of what saddens him, preferring to wait and pray and hope that things will correct themselves. But the present situation admits of no such patience. The things I am about to describe did not happen all at once, nor did they appear all together in their full enormity; they crept in gradually, each innovation clearing the way for the next, each departure from the tradition making the next departure easier. This is the method of the enemy of our souls: to introduce small changes first, so that men grow accustomed to them and their moral nerve is dulled, and then to use that dulled sensibility as a stepping stone to larger errors. Had the full extent of the corruption appeared from the beginning, even the most unwary would have recognized and rejected it. But coming by degrees, it seduced those who were not watchful, and by the time its full proportions became visible, many had already been taken in.

It is now some years since the people of Bulgaria, who for many generations had lived in the darkness of idolatry and the shadow of death, were at last illumined by the light of the Gospel through the labors of our missionaries. We baptized them, taught them the Orthodox faith, ordained priests and deacons from among their number, established churches, and gave thanks to God who had granted us this harvest. The young Church was fragile, as all new things are, but it had the foundations of the Apostolic tradition laid under it, and we had every reason to hope that in God's time it would grow strong and bear lasting fruit. Then everything changed. Into this newly planted vineyard there descended from the darkness of the West, like a destructive hailstorm falling on a field just ready for harvest, men who had neither been sent by us nor consulted us about their mission, men who came with the authority of Rome behind them and a determination to undo what we had built.

As the great Paul writes: Who is weak and I am not weak? Who is made to fall and I am not indignant? The injuries described below are not injuries to me personally, or to the Church of Constantinople, though they are that too. They are injuries to the Body of Christ, and therefore to every member of that Body. When one member suffers, all the members suffer with it. I write therefore not as a patriarch defending his territory, though I have every canonical right to do so, but as a fellow servant of Christ writing to fellow servants, asking them to recognize with me that the flock of God has been harmed, and that it falls to all of us together to seek the remedy. I make known to your beloved brotherhood what has happened, and I appeal to your canonical authority and your pastoral charity to join with us in the measures that the situation demands.