Within a year and a half, Orthodox theology bid farewell to two of its leading figures, the most important and influential representatives of the Greek “theological generation of the 1960s”, Metropolitan John Zizioulas of Pergamon (January 10, 1931-February 2, 2023) and, more recently, Professor Christos Yannaras (April 10, 1935-August 24, 2024). A certain sense of orphanhood darkens the theological horizon of Greece.
Reactions to the passing of the distinguished hierarch came almost exclusively from clergy and theologians, who honored him with words of profound recognition. On the contrary, the death of Christos Yannaras attracted much wider publicity and triggered highly contrasting assessments, from expressions of extraordinary admiration to the outright rejection of his intellectual contribution. This is not surprising, as Yannaras was a particularly prolific, yet highly polarizing public intellectual of the first order, with a radius that extended far beyond the world of theologians in his homeland.
Born in Athens, he studied theology and philosophy there and also in Bonn and Paris. Repeatedly rejected by the Greek theological institutions and following academic engagements in Paris, Geneva, Lausanne and Rethymno, he was finally elected professor of philosophy at Panteion University (Athens), where he taught for twenty years (1982-2002). Author of some 80 books (including many volumes of columns he was writing for decades for the major Greek newspapers) translated into more than ten languages, he was awarded numerous honorary doctorates. In 2019 the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew invested him as “Archon Great Rhetor of the Holy Great Church of Christ”. Some of his works, especially those he wrote at a relatively young age, are classics of twentieth-century Orthodox theology, such as Heidegger and Areopagite (1967), The Freedom of Morality (1970) or Person and Eros (1976).
With Yannaras, the aesthetic (and not only) paradigm of modern Greek theology changes radically: its style becomes more confident, its preoccupations more creative, its horizon becomes broader, acquiring a more existential and social reference.
A very large part of Yannaras’ work is in a final analysis apologetic in nature (although he himself would not be happy with this term), seeking primarily the dialogue of Orthodoxy with philosophy, science, literature, art, and politics. He studied mainly the areopagitic writings, Maximus Confessor, and the mystical-ascetic literature, highlighting the existential significance of the Orthodox tradition and its relevance today. He undertook the task of translating Orthodox theology into a language he largely created: a theological vocabulary that shaped the work of an entire generation. The priorities it established, the assumptions it relied on, and even the issues it regrettably overlooked all owe much to Yannaras. Through his extensive writings and frequent—and often contentious—public interventions, he became a central figure in every rigorous Orthodox theological debate in Greece and sometimes beyond. One could gratefully agree or radically disagree with Yannaras, but in his motherland, one could not ignore him.
Apophaticism occupies a central position in his thought from its very beginnings, as an epistemological attitude, which juxtaposes the tradition of the Orthodox East with the much more affirmative and therefore, according to Yannaras, epistemologically pending approaches of Western thought, Christian and philosophical. By rejecting the equation of truth with knowledge and linguistic expression, apophaticism fuels Yannaras’s well-known anti-Western stance. This approach can give his work an aura of epistemological panacea, though it avoids slipping into agnosticism. Instead, it proposes positive theological formulations, which, of course, are grounded in a distinct apocalyptic foundation. His thought does not fully resolve the inherent tension between professed apophaticism and faith firmly rooted in revelation.
Yannaras connects his epistemology to a strongly personalistic-relational ontology. Concepts such as love, relationship and communion, central to his thought, not only underscored the potential of Orthodox personalism for a fruitful dialogue with philosophy and political theory but also liberated generations of the Orthodox raised in a guilt-ridden atmosphere of aversion to the body.
Yannaras’s polemic against legalistic moralism was deeply informed by personal experiences, particularly his youth spent in the theological brotherhood “Zoe”, whose physiognomy owed much to Pietist influences. One of his best-known books, the autobiographical Shelter of Ideas (1987), has been the most severe critique of the brotherhoods of Greece, of their ecclesiological and ethical paradigm.
It is worth discussing to what extent the sharpness of the prolific theologian’s anti-Westernism is due to these experiences or to the readings he was citing (Slavophiles, Russians of the diaspora, scholars specialized in Medieval West, existentialist philosophers such as Heidegger and Sartre, etc.). Considering the West formed by Augustine, scholasticism, and in general the supposed misinterpretation of the ancient Greek heritage by Latin Christianity, Yannaras sees in the West only decline and alienation of the message of the Gospel that leads to individualistic nihilism. On the contrary, in the Orthodox East he recognizes organic continuity with ancient Greek thought, especially in gnoseology, and believes in its cultural superiority. Paradoxically, a consistent theorist of person and relationship is fighting against caricatures of the other, juxtaposing an idealized version of Orthodoxy and Greek culture with a distorted image of Western theology and civilization, adhering to schemas that are both naïve and polemical. Focusing on leading theologians of the Latin Middle Ages, Yannaras does not engage in a dialogue with contemporary Western theology, nor is he interested in ecumenical dialogue. His thought is encapsulated in the East-West scheme, without taking into account the cultural diversity in which Christianity is manifested today all over the globe, transcending Eurocentrism.
In recent decades the center of Yannaras’ thought has increasingly moved from theology to cultural criticism, with the result that his work has become less and less translatable, as the Greek-centric narrative he was advancing could not be of wider interest. As the years went by, Yannaras gradually adopted very conservative positions, becoming the object of admiration in ultra-nationalist circles, even if his elitism did not allow him to identify with them. In any case, while in his youth he was one of the few who sought to open Orthodox theology to the modern world and its challenges, he ultimately undermined this project by retreating into anti-Western and nationalist frameworks. His students, less capable than their teacher, will continue to develop such schemes in a more extreme, naïve and vulgare direction.
His voluminous work will continue to accompany the Orthodox in their theological pursuits. His solid but highly antinomic thought emphasized apophaticism and defended apocalyptic positivism, broadened horizons and ended in conservatism, spoke of relationship and dialogue, and fought caricatures, fueling futile polarization. Ever the maverick, Yannaras courageously defended his right to his opinion to the end, unafraid of the serious personal price he did indeed pay many times over.
One of the finest and most characteristic works of this great esthete and stylist of the modern Greek language is the lyrical Commentary on the Song of Songs (1990). Despite his shortcomings, Yannaras produced a work of beauty and generosity, and it is perhaps this style and ethos that will (or should) be remembered more than some of his interesting positions. It is worthwhile to engage with his challenging, captivating, and at times problematic ideas—much like Homeric Odysseus, who took precautions against the Sirens but still allowed himself to hear their enchanting song.