So far as the distribution of church real estate to poor farmers is concerned, the church had agreed in principle to this some time ago and it was reaffirmed last September. The church is believed to own about one and a half million stremmata (400,000 acres) of land, or about one percent of the country. Of this, however, only 44,000 stremmata are said to be suitable for crops, and the number of farmers without land is estimated at 7,000.
As soon as the bill was tabled, 80 metropolitan bishops held an emergency meeting, objecting to the method by which the church was being called upon to transfer this property to the state within six months, claiming at the same time that the state intended to give this land not to poor farmers but to already rich agricultural cooperatives. The government argued that the church had already agreed to the distribution. The church countered that while it had agreed on the matter in principle, it did not agree with the method of distribution as set down by the bill introduced by the minister of education and religion, Antonis Tritsis. (Why there should be a ministry dedicated to these two odd bedmates must be attributed to its having been set up before the days of Charles Darwin.)
Far more serious in the eyes of the church was the bill’s provisions regarding church administration. Accusing the government of meddling and politicizing church affairs, bishops said, “We are willing to give up land but we will not budge on the matter of the self-government of the church.” The 1975 constitution, composed “in the name of the holy and consubstantial and indivisible Trinity”, renews the tenets of previous constitutions by stating in Article 3 the autonomy of the Orthodox Church and its administration by the Synod of bishops.
The new bill which the church objects to states that metropolitan councils consist of the bishop, a judge of the first instance, an appointee of the treasurer of the prefecture, a state employee chosen by the nomarch and three elected members of the congregation. How the latter are elected is left unclear. A similar structure is proposed for parishes and for the organizations that handle the administration of church property. While the government says it wants to democratize church administration, its opponents claim that it is trying to politicize the church. With ecclesiastic power and property as attractions, the new catalogue of members of any particular congregation, to be drawn up by the minis !ry, as proposed by the new bill may not, surprisingly, attract a legion of newly converted “pious” who do not even know how to cross themselves properly.
Although the details of the issue are extremely complex, with points well made on both sides, it would be hasty to conclude that the government’s sudden interest in church matters is to establish the Kingdom of God forever in Greece. It is even possible that it is trying to give spiritual consolation to certain sectors of the agricultural community whose EC funds have been unaccountably funnelled elsewhere.
The constitutionality of the bill is open to question, and if President Sartzetakis has been branded with the epithet of “Pontius Pilate”, law might agree that he had a point. Ecclesiastics want to discuss the matter with the prime minister, but he declares that his time is taken up with more pressing matters. Still, it would be unfortunate if someone by this law, in giving a donation to the church (for the sake of his soul), should find himself rendering unto Caesar what had meant to be for God (particularly in honor of bouzouki great Vassilis Tsitsanis).
Historically, the church has played a glorious role in Greece, far exceeding any constitution, let alone any political party. It preserved the identity of its people for 400 years when there was no Greek state at all. For a thousand years earlier it was a bastion of the West. This month, once again, at Good Friday and Easter services, churches will be full of believers, non-believers and those who cannot make up their minds. They will all be celebrating an ethnic event. At these wonderful moments, the church is no longer just a refuge for the faithful nor a sacred precinct banned to those of no, or little, faith. It is a great and generous meeting place whose meaning has been preserved over many centuries – with understanding (though sometimes with less understanding) – by the very human act of a laying on of hands, from elder to novice. Reform is good, but to interfere with this continuity is arrogance at best; at worst, a short-sighted foolishness by which church, state and citizen can only lose.
