Albanian Iconography

Last year when I posted my photos from Albania, I promised a follow-up post focusing on iconography. Reading about the Albanian adventures of this year’s missiology class inspired me to resume work on that post.

As with my previous Albania post, I drew heavily on the photos taken by other members of the expedition. The pictures will be organized roughly in the order of our itinerary in Albania. My narration will be minimal.

In addition to iconography in the narrow sense, I will feature other aspects of church art, particularly wood carving. And besides traditional ecclesiastical iconography, I will include some less traditional religious art. You can click on any picture to see it full-size.

Our first stop was Annunciation Cathedral, Tirana.

St. Anastasios

The archbishop’s throne

The baptistery chapel

St. Constantine

The Theotokos

St. Panteleimon

Two days later, we stopped at two schools on our way to Shen Vlash Monastery.

The Resurrection of Christ is a popular subject in new Albanian iconography.

At Shen Vlash

The refectory

The monastery chapel

Shen Vlash (aka St. Blaise)

The chapel at the diagnostic clinic.

Framed art at the student center

Nazareth Center houses various ecclesiastical arts, including the creation and restoration of icons and wordworking.

On our way to Korça we stopped for a fish supper at this restaurant in Shen Naumi.

The next day we visited the Metropoly.

Then we spent the rest of the morning sightseeing in Korça, starting with this church.

St. Haralambos

Inside a small shrine

The old cathedral

Monastery of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist, Voskopoja

St. Ignatius

St. Nicholas

St. Katherine

Monastery of Ss. Peter & Paul, Vithkuq

The new cathedral in Korça

Church of St. Anna

Shen Naumi (St. Nahum)

Prophet Elijah

Chapel of St. Elijah, high above Korça

Church of the Resurrection, Pogradec

St. Marena

The Last Judgment

Exaltation of the Holy Cross

Yannaras vs. the Zealots

In my systematic theology classes this year we read a few articles by Greek Orthodox theologian Christos Yannaras. We also got to hear him speak in person when the seminary presented him with an honorary degeree. While I respect Yannaras’s ability to tackle interesting, relevant topics (e.g., human freedom) from a point of view that is modern, original, and Orthodox, I disagree so strongly with his central philosophical commitment that I usually cannot follow him to his conclusions (though I can sometimes reach similar conclusions by a different route). In my reading of Yannaras, I quickly sensed a foundation of Sartrean-style existentialism underlying his thinking. My reaction to John Zizioulas was similar. I guess it should not be surprising that Greek theologians of the mid 20th century would engage with the dominant European philosophy of their day, just as Bulgakov and his generation had earlier engaged with Hegel and German idealism.

I am not entirely opposed to existentialism. I went through an existentialist phase in my early 20s, and I still retain a soft spot for Kierkegaard. But the more I thought about Sartre’s blunt assertion, "There is no human nature," the more I realized that 1) it is nonsense, and 2) it is irreconcilable with traditional Christology. If there is no human nature, then the whole concept of species does not apply to humans, and each of us is a sui generis being (rather like the Christ of Arius). If there is no human nature, then we cannot say that Christ assumed human nature, and the traditional explanation of the Incarnation falls apart. I think Yannaras and Zizioulas come dangerously close to Sartre with the notion of person transcending nature. As I understand it, this means that our path to theosis must lead to a transcending of our human nature. That strikes me as gnostic.

While Zizioulas has not, to my knowledge, accepted the existentialist label, Yannaras has been open about his influences. Toward the end of his recent commencement address at Hellenic College and Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology, for instance, he lauded Nietzsche, Heidegger, and Sartre, who "boldly attempted to make a painful break with moral error." To be fair, Yannaras went on to say that his ontology of the person was a response to "the need to confront Heidegger’s nihilism," so we should not imagine that he is an uncritical Heideggerian. But, still, he typically operates within a modernist framework of mid-20th-century European existentialism.

The main body of this commencement address, however, constituted a postmodern critique of "the problem of neoconservatism and fundamentalism which currently afflicts the way life is led in most Orthodox churches." (I’m really not sure what neoconservatism means outside the context of U.S. politics − in fact, I’m a bit hazy on what it means even in that context. Since the term did not recur, I will assume it is just a synonym for fundamentalism, and not a significant term in itself.) Yannaras clearly and correctly identifies the fundamentalist "zealots" of modern Orthodoxy − those who oppose all ecumenical dialogue and who pose as defenders Orthodox Tradition against the West − as unwitting examples of the very modernist Western ideology they claim to oppose. They set their own judgment above that of the Church and its bishops. They embrace a commitment to formal propositions and authoritative texts akin to Marxists, thereby reducing Orthodoxy to an ideology.

Yannaras then pointed out that it is not only the zealots who have fallen into a Western way of thinking and living, but "the whole of Christendom." Overcoming the pitfalls of Westernization, then, is not a matter of resisting the "other," but of self-criticism and repentance.

Read the whole address here.