Our Open Letter to the Church: The Humanitarian Crisis at the US-Mexico Border drew a range of mixed reactions from our readers. At one extreme stood the letter’s 115 signatories: an Orthodox bishop, priests, academics, and laity, joined by many clergy and laity representing other Christian traditions.
To this list we gratefully add the names of those very few hierarchs who issued a letter to the White House or a public statement: in alphabetical order, Metropolitan Nicolae (Condrea), Bishop David (Mahaffey), Metropolitan Tikhon (Mollard), Archbishop Lazar (Puhalo), Metropolitan Antony (Scharba), Metropolitan Nathanael (Symeonides), and Archbishop Daniel (Zelinsky). You may find their letters or statements under their names in our Archives by Author with the exception of Archbishop Lazar, whose statement took the form of a letter to the editors.
At the other extreme stood those angered by our letter, who felt that the institutional Orthodox church and even individual Orthodox Christians should play no role in the public life of a pluralistic secular democracy. Orthodox bishops, many of these thought, should restrict themselves to ministering to the spiritual needs of their flocks.
Yet, year after year in our preparation for Great Lent, we are confronted with the Sunday of the Last Judgment. We also have the witness of Mother Maria of Paris, among our most universally beloved of modern Orthodox saints. What do these say to us, both as Church and as individual Orthodox Christians?
In publishing the present article Orthodoxy in Dialogue wishes to raise the following questons:
- Should the Orthodox Church of the 21st century articulate a more robust “social justice doctrine?”
- Given the fundamentally eschatological focus of Orthodox liturgy, theology, and ascetical spirituality, what might an Orthodox social justice doctrine look like? How would it maintain the necessary tension between the present world and the world to come? How does the Orthodox Church avoid becoming little more than just another social justice agency operating under a thin religious veneer?

St. Maria of Paris (1891-1945)
America is full of churches that sing songs about grace, hope, and love, yet are unwilling to provide those same things to refugees and immigrants. These churches preach about the “good news” and claim to follow the “gospel truth,” but are dismissive of their own involvement in partisan lies, and seem perfectly content supporting blatantly dishonest political leaders. Instead of being an inspiring “light unto the world,” many Christians have propagated fear-mongering rhetoric and participated in racism, misogyny, xenophobia, and bigotry … all while claiming to follow God.
Much of westernized Christianity has turned the concept of worship into a compartmentalized idea — verbally praising God in song, a segmented event that typically occurs at the beginnings and ends of church services.
But if this is truly what we believe worship is, then we’re severely limiting our reverence to God.
And if we’re opposed to helping refugees, immigrants, and the vulnerable while reciting lyrics about being “saved” and “redeemed,” we’re being hypocritically sinful.
The Bible boldly proclaims: “If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.” (1 John 4:20).




The following report on the Malankara Orthodox Syrian Church—part of the Oriental Orthodox communion—comes from Kerala, a state on the southwest coast of India. Orthodoxy in Dialogue is publishing it not in order to advocate for abolishing confession, but to shine a light on related questions for discussion in an Eastern Orthodox context.
The following excerpts are taken from Patricia Miller’s “The Story Behind the Catholic Church’s Stunning Contraception Reversal,” published the day before yesterday on Religion Dispatches. The link for the full article is given below.