In his book How Are We Saved?, Bishop Kallistos Ware of Diokleia, perhaps one of the most prominent Eastern Orthodox theologians of our time, recounts an incident in which, while traveling on a train somewhere in the United States, two young men approached him and asked, “Are you saved?”1 Imagine his surprise. A bishop, in full vestments, wearing all the religious paraphernalia, confronted with such a question. Did it make sense? Does such a question make sense when addressed to an Orthodox Christian? Does it make sense to speak about “evangelism”?
1. Kallistos Ware, How Are We Saved? The Understanding of Salvation in the Orthodox Tradition (Minneapolis: Light & Life, 1996), 4.
I’m a pastor in Greece, I interact with Eastern Orthodox folks regularly, and I’ve even written a small book on Eastern Orthodoxy. I believe a better way to refer to evangelizing the Eastern Orthodox is what I would call “gospel witness in an Orthodox context.” One characteristic of the Eastern Orthodox Church in countries where it constitutes the majority is the presence of a large number of cultural Christians, since religious identity is closely intertwined with national identity. Thus, to be Greek often means that one has been baptized as an Orthodox Christian. But is that enough?
Within this context, our Protestant witness—and evangelism—does indeed have meaning.
Even among devout and conscious Orthodox believers, I would argue that there are certain important aspects of the gospel and the experience of salvation that are often missing. Therefore, even in such cases, gospel witness remains important—in some cases to begin, and in other cases to enrich the believer’s experience of redemption. In this article, I’ll highlight two particularly important aspects of the gospel that Eastern Orthodox need to hear, one result of this omission within Eastern Orthodoxy, and then some concluding reflections.
1. The Experience of a Personal Relationship with Christ
The first element I would like to emphasize for Eastern Orthodox friends is the experience of a personal relationship with Christ.
Within the Eastern Orthodox framework, there exists an entire system of mediations. The believer stands on one side, God on the other, and in between there are the saints, the sacraments, the clergy, rituals, icons, and above all, the Virgin Mary. While this complex system can function in a comforting way, it often deprives the believer of the experience of a direct, unmediated, and personal relationship with God.
For most Eastern Orthodox laypeople, God and faith are not directly connected to their daily lives. Part of this gap is also due to the fact that reading Scripture and engaging in spontaneous prayer—both of which are vital for cultivating a lived relationship with God within Evangelical spirituality—are largely unfamiliar practices for many. Prayer is usually limited to the repetition of fixed prayers such as the Jesus Prayer,2 the Lord’s Prayer (Matt. 6:9–13), or “O Heavenly King, Comforter.”3
2. “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”
3. “O heavenly King, the Comforter, Spirit of Truth, who art in all places, and fillest all things; Treasury of good things and Giver of life: Come, and take up thine abode in us, and cleanse us from every stain; and save our souls, O Good One.” See Isabel Florence Hapgood, trans., Service Book of the Holy Orthodox-Catholic Apostolic Church, 5th ed. (Englewood, NJ: Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese, 1975), 22.
This lack of personal experience is often compensated for, especially in recent years, by the rise of what might be called “elderism”—an intense focus on and attachment to certain monastic figures believed to have had supernatural experiences.
2. The Absence of Assurance of Salvation
The second element to note within Eastern Orthodoxy is the absence of the assurance of salvation.
Before explaining what I mean, it is worth considering the theological parameters that lead to this outcome. In the Orthodox understanding of the significance of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, the concept of penal substitution is absent. For the Orthodox, the cross is understood primarily as victory over the powers of Sin and Death that carries a strong future orientation, and less about Christ as a substitute experiencing God’s righteous wrath for our own sin.
If the cross is only understood as “victory,” then we experience its benefits in the present only partially and in a limited way. Sin and death remain realities of life, and their power continues to affect us. The words “It is finished,” spoken by Christ on the cross, can then offer hope for the future, but without something definitive and complete in the present.
However, when we take into account the atonement in terms of penal substitution, we receive assurance in the present as well. God has forgiven us, accepted us, and justified us—and this is a final and definitive reality. The cross becomes the place where I encounter the God of love, who makes me His own through the sacrifice of His Son.
Closely related to the absence of penal substitution in Orthodoxy is the absence of the doctrine of justification. In How Are We Saved?, Bishop Kallistos Ware makes a revealing admission: when discussing justification, he does not clearly distinguish it from sanctification.4 He even notes that in his well-known work The Orthodox Church, the word “justification” does not appear even once—though, as he says, this was not a deliberate omission.5
4. Ware, How Are We Saved?, 66.
5. Technically, “justification” occurs as part of a quotation, but it is never treated by itself and does not occur beyond this passing reference. See Timothy Ware (later Metropolitan Kallistos of Diokleia), The Orthodox Church: An Introduction to Eastern Christianity, 3rd rev. ed. (London: Penguin Books, 2015), 224.
It becomes clear that for Ware, and for many Orthodox theologians, justification is considered peripheral, even unnecessary, for understanding God’s saving work. Why, then, do Evangelicals insist on it? Are we merely fixating on a legal fiction invented by a guilt-ridden Luther?
The Consequences of This Omission
What, then, is the result of omitting justification?
At one point, Ware explains that while we may have confidence in the work of Christ, we do not have the same confidence in our own faithfulness. Thus, he writes: “Conscious as I am of my human frailty, I remain between hope and fear right up to the very gates of death.”6
6. Ware, How Are We Saved?, 3–4.
For this reason, the Orthodox believer never possesses full assurance of salvation. Ware’s own response to the question “Are you saved?” was: “I am being saved.” And perhaps we might add, he hopes he is being saved.
By contrast, the Reformed emphasis on the forensic, extra nos (outside ourselves) basis of justification provides the sinner with assurance of acceptance before God and offers consolation in the midst of the ongoing struggle with sin. It is not therefore our efforts or our partaking of the sacraments of the church, but only a righteousness outside of us, a righteousness imputed to us by Christ when we look on him in faith.7
7. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles, 2 vols., Library of Christian Classics 20–21 (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960), 3.11.2, 23.
This assurance is expressed beautifully in the opening question of the Heidelberg Catechism:
Q: What is your only comfort in life and death?
A: That I am not my own, but belong—body and soul, in life and in death—to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. He has fully paid for all my sins with His precious blood and has set me free from all the power of the devil. He also preserves me in such a way that without the will of my heavenly Father not a hair can fall from my head; indeed, all things must work together for my salvation. Therefore, by His Holy Spirit He assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for Him.
We have already referred to the Jesus Prayer: “O Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” This prayer, inspired by the tax collector of Luke 18:13, reflects a genuine aspect of the Christian experience—the daily and unceasing struggle against sin.
However, the plea for mercy must be complemented by the truth that I have received mercy. Only then can we pray like the Apostle Paul, “I thank him who has given me strength, Christ Jesus our Lord” (1 Tim. 1:12–16).
Conclusion: The Parable of the Prodigal Son
In closing, I would suggest that the best way to explain the gospel to an Orthodox Christian is through the well-known Parable of the Prodigal Son.
The son betrays and dishonors his father. When he returns, he hopes only for another chance—to become one of his father’s hired servants. To a large extent, this reflects how many Orthodox Christians understand salvation: because of ancestral sin, we have a problem; through baptism, we are given another chance; we must make the most of it so that, in the end, the Father may accept and forgive us.
But the parable unfolds differently. The father does not give his son a probationary opportunity. He embraces him and kisses him. That kiss is the doctrine of justification. It’s a kiss received from a heart of humble faith in the forgiveness of a good father. The prodigal is once again a son and has a place at the table. That is a picture of the gospel. And so many times when I share it with an Orthodox person, tears come—not only to their eyes, but to mine as well.
