Reflective of Orthodoxy in Dialogue’s commitment to welcome a diversity of voices from within and beyond the Orthodox Church to our conversation, we are grateful to the editorial board of Women in Theology for this opportunity to introduce them to our readers around the globe. We urge you to visit them often, to read their articles carefully, and to engage with them thoughtfully. 

Scene of April 23 van attack in Toronto.

On April 23 of this year, our two co-authors were on opposite sides of the Atlantic reading the same news about a horrific incident in Toronto. 10 people were killed and another 16 injured by a man who chose to drive his van down a kilometer of sidewalk in the north end of the city.  Today [October 23] marks the six-month anniversary of this senseless and tragic event.

Over the course of two posts, Alexandria and Allison will unpack some of the ideological parallels between incel groups, ideas put forward as gospel by complementarian authors, and toxic masculinity more broadly.

In part one, we will examine the notion of toxic masculinity and compare the ways that incel culture and complementarianism perpetuate themselves. In part two, we will turn our attention to the ideological and rhetorical parallels between these two groups.

A note: this post discusses violence against women.

Genteel toxicity is still toxic. It is perhaps all the more insidious because its mask of respectability hides its discursive damage. Like the white moderate bemoaned by Dr. King, the gentle toxicity of the complementarian worldview might pose as significant a hurdle to the well-being of our society as its more aggressive secular counterparts, like the incel movement. In some cases, these groups speak in one voice; in others, the complementarian expression of toxic masculinity is the incel movement’s gentler, less crude echo. Read More

In the contentious matter of autocephaly for the Orthodox Church in Ukraine, Western supporters and detractors alike have questioned the involvement of the Ukrainian government in the process, especially vis-à-vis the Ecumenical Patriarchate. Underlying these apprehensions is the widespread ignorance—sometimes wilful, sometimes innocent—of two facts: first, the distinct history, language, culture, and ecclesiastical governance of the Ukrainian people; and second, the endless history of Russian imperial violence against Ukraine in the Tsarist, Soviet, and post-Soviet eras—a history in which the Russian Church has played and continues to play a complicit role. The struggle for Ukrainian independence from the nation’s Russian overlords dates back centuries.

While the following editorial does not touch on ecclesiastical affairs, it begins to provide for Orthodoxy in Dialogue’s readers something of the political context within which to understand the pressing pastoral need for the Ukrainian Church’s canonical independence from the Moscow Patriarchate.

Five years ago, thousands of Ukrainians launched the EuroMaidan Revolution, which later led to the overthrow of President Viktor Yanukovych.

There were two main motives behind it.

First, it was a revolution in support of Ukraine’s national identity in its struggle with Russian imperialism, since Yanukovych was seen as a puppet of Moscow.

Second, it was an uprising in favor of the European values, the main one being a corruption-free state, and integration into the free world. Read More

Open Invitation to Hierarchs, Priests, Deacons, Monastics,

Laymen, Laywomen, and Young People

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him was not anything made that was made.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth. We have beheld His glory, glory as of the Only-Begotten Son from the Father.

During this season of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving in preparation for the Nativity of our Lord, God, and Saviour Jesus Christ, we invite you to share with our readers around the world your reflections on the incarnation of God in human flesh.

We seek theological, inspirational, spiritually edifying pieces of no more than 1000 words that have not been published elsewhere. You might take your inspiration from the Old and New Testaments, from the liturgical texts for the Nativity, from patristic tradition, or from iconography.

What does it mean for us that God has become man? How does this affect the way that I am called to live—to relate to my own self, to my fellow human beings, to the saints and angels of heaven, to the whole created cosmos, to our triune God?

Read More

It seems almost by accident that I became a composer of Orthodox liturgical music. As a music student at Oxford in the early 1970s, I had written some rather complex modernistic pieces, some of which were performed at various concerts. While staying in Siena, Italy, in the summer of 1974, I had the audacity to show them to the famed Italian composer, Luigi Dallapiccola, who was presenting talks about his music at the Accademia Chigiana. (I vividly recall him pausing to catch his breath at the tops of hills as we walked about the city; his health was already failing, and he died early the following year.) For my postgraduate studies I had to decide between composition and musicology. After receiving no particular encouragement to pursue composition, I chose musicology, and around 1976 I stopped composing altogether, never expecting to return.

That was until the early 1990s. By then I was living in Amsterdam, had converted to Christianity and was moving in British Anglican and Dutch Protestant circles. Through them I got to know the music of Taizé: short, chant-like pieces and canons that were dignified and easy to sing. The canons especially reawakened the dormant composer inside me. I thought it would be good to try composing something similar, so I wrote a series of them, most based on Scripture. I went on to set several sections of one of the innumerable Anglican Communion rites: series III, as it was known. Read More