orders

Published by The National Herald, June 10, 2005

His last marching orders

The late Archbishop Iakovos is doing in death what he did when he was alive: He feels duty-bound to influence the course of our community in the direction he thinks the best.

His last will and testament (see this week’s lead story – published exclusively in its entirety by the National Herald) contains a number of decisions which reveal his overall philosophy of life; the conclusions he drew from it; his believes, as well as what mattered most to him (i.e., the people and institutions he loved most, whom he names in his will as a sort of honor call).

In effect, he gave his last marching orders to the Greek American community, a sort of blueprint of what it must do to survive as a minority in this country.

Because Iakovos was by no means an ordinary man, but a brilliant and learned person who devoted his life to the service of this community, his final wishes, as expressed in his will, comprise arguably the most important document he ever wrote, and merits careful study by us all.

Iakovos clearly did not see his last will and testament as most people do: that is, as simply effort to divide up his worldly possessions among the people and institutions he thought deserved to have them. A born leader with a deep sense of responsibility, he went a step further.

He summarized his conclusions and beliefs on the most critical issues concerning the Church and its flock in a paragraph replete with his love for us in an ultimate effort to influence the future path he thought his people should follow. This paragraph (the sixth) is the heart of this impressive document – just 72 words in all – and is certain to be discussed and referred to for years to come:

"My final testament to my Church, and to my people, is to remain steadfast and devoted to Greek Orthodoxy; to maintain the valiant struggle to perpetuate the Greek language in the Americans as a living symbol to both our faith and our glorious heritage; and to encourage an ever-increasing participation in the ecumenical objective of the unity of Christendom to its never-ending and universal quest for the greatest good of all mankind," he writes.

This tightly and masterfully packed paragraph is his last – and probably his most lasting – gift to us all. One needs to read these 72 words carefully to understand what, at the end of his full and active life, Archbishop Iakovos really believed in; what it really came down to, for him, about crucial issues over which he agonized over for decades; what, now that he is no longer among us, in effect, free and liberated from daily scrutiny, he opens up and tells us he really believed.

Some will be grateful for the path he is asking us to follow, especially for his insistence upon maintaining our Greek identity and heritage, in the context of our Greek Orthodox faith and tradition, and use of the Greek language "in the Americas."

Others will be disappointed that this great teacher espoused such beliefs and ideals and that, on top of that, he thought it was important to try to influence us in his own uniquely charismatic way, even after death.

But then again, in life, Iakovos was a man who was either intensely loved or fiercely opposed, and a man who would not hesitate to walk first, way ahead of the crowd, into the middle of raging controversy, as he did in Selma, Alabama with Martin Luther King on behalf of civil rights.

His exhortation for us to preserve the Greek language might well attract the most attention, for it is the conventional wisdom among many circles that this exhortation flies in the face of reality.

How could he ask us to do that, some people are sure to ask, if he genuinely understood the realities of contemporary society? But Iakovos clearly understood the difficulties involved; e.g., the Clergy-Laity Congress of 1972, when he passed a resolution allowing the use of the English language in liturgical services, which lead to great protests from the traditionalists and, almost, to his resignation.

Iakovos also knew that, when he left us with this particular set of instructions, he was asking us to do something far from easy. That is why, in a final exercise of his highly developed skill as a master wordsmith, he used the phrase "valiant struggle," underscoring his keen insight.

There may also be those who would argue that his emphases on maintaining the Greek language contradicts his actions as an Archbishop; that he did not do enough before he retired to keep the language alive.

Even if there was some truth to that argument, the fact remains that he can not be accused of a lack of interest in maintaining the Greek language, especially in light of the experiences we had after he was basically compelled to resign nine years ago.

And he proves his point about the need to maintain the Greek language by apportioning a percentage of his residuary estate (10 percent) to two Greek schools, one in New York and the other in Massachusetts.

And, as if to make his point about the tremendous need to support our institutions, he also apportioned 70 percent of that estate to Saint Michael’s Home for the Aged in Yonkers and 20 percent to Hellenic College/Holy Cross Greek orthodox School of Theology in Brookline, Massachusetts.

The late Archbishop’s actions are therefore consistent with his words. He practiced what he preach, even unto his death.

A glaring void in his will is that, in that sixth paragraph, where he is referring to the most crucial issues affecting our community, he makes no mention of either the Archdiocese or the Ecumenical Patriarchate.

Archbishop Iakovos obviously spent a lot of time agonizing about this issue, and whether he should take a public stand, either in favor or against the Patriarchate. He could have asked us to continue supporting it far into the future as an important institution of our faith; as a historical Greek institution which should not fade into the horizon.

He chose not to do that, however. He chose not to make any reference to it, at all. But by doing that, he spoke volumes. It is no secret that there was enmity between Iakovos and Bartholomew. It may come out eventually that they reconciled somehow, but the late Archbishop, formerly of North & South America, who so ably served the Church in America for 37 years, was slighted when he did not succeed the late Ecumenical Patriarch Demetrios in 1991, and many of the faithful here feel strongly that, in spite of his advanced age (he was 79 at the time), Iakovos deserved to become Patriarch of Constantinople.

Iakovos still speaks clearly to us, as he always did, and is leading us even from his grave. It is up to us to decide whether or not we should listen to him; about the Greek language, however, we should take heed; about relations with the Patriarchate, perhaps the Phanar might reexamine the situation here.



Volume 7 Number 24 - Tuesday, June 14th, 2005	A Publication of the ORTHODOX CHRISTIAN LAITY