Kaire in Greece

by Sister Sue Makin SSM

Kaire is an interconfessional conference, mainly for women, which first met in 1971 and has since met every other year, in various locations. The participants are drawn together by the very fact that they are divided at the Eucharist. All are dedicated to serving the church, whether by monastic, priestly or diaconal vows, and so the gathering reflects a great variety of religious expression.
At the 1998 conference, held in August at Evangelistria in Greece, there were forty-two representatives from about a dozen countries. Here, Sister Sue SSM, one of the Anglican participants, shares her reflections on a challenging week of ecumenical conversation.

I had only a vague idea of what I was going to do. The Kaire conference was something I had heard about via CCC meetings. What a revelation I was in for! The conference was set in central Greece, high in the mountains, requiring a nail-biting twenty-minute ascent, with every bend a hairpin ... Sister Theodekti, our host, barely reassured us,

'It is good that your first experience of this road is in the dark. Tomorrow it will be light. If you are frightened, then close your eyes!'

This began a week full of surprises, not least because, for the entire week, nothing happened on time, leaving some of the English and German participants somewhat twitchy ... However, after the dismal English summer, I was very pleased to be where the sunshine was guaranteed.
The purpose of meeting together is not only to look at what divides the churches but also to explore the richness of traditions that are different to our own. Some differences may even be threatening. As a group, we try for one short week to understand where the other is coming from and to clarify the essentials of our own particular beliefs. I found this probably the most stimulating - and yet frustrating - aspect of the week. How do you explain the Church of England to a Greek Orthodox? How do you hold together the strands of Anglicanism in its glorious technicolour?
There was a genuine curiosity, and gracious reception, of what I had to say, even if it was in sign language! The evening before the Anglican Eucharist, Father Eric CR gave an excellent talk, a 'Beginners Guide to Anglicanism'. He was especially helpful in putting the Liturgy into context, even though he ran out of time on reaching the 1928 Prayer Book ... As there were only four Anglicans at the conference, I received much positive feedback and I felt that many myths were dispelled. In a sense, that is what we were there to do, to build an area of trust around the pain that seems to surround the wider Christian church.
Given the venue, the main input naturally came from the Greek Orthodox. Sister Michaila gave a series of addresses entitled 'From crucifixion to resurrection', followed by pertinent questions for personal reflection. These addresses were both challenging to the Western ear, as well as being a window into the Orthodox way. Questions like: 'Do I experience the paradox of finding true life through giving up my will?', and 'Do I practise daily personal awareness of the need for the cross in my life? Does this awaken a sense of sin in me and spur me on to seek the remedy for this?' These were hard questions with which to grapple in our groups.
It seemed to me that even though our basis for faith is the same - that Jesus Christ is the Messiah, that he died and rose again for us - East and West seem to live out different aspects of this same story. My sense was that the Orthodox way can be summed up with a few of Sister Michaila's own words:

'Repentance begins with turning back to restore what was taken, to find what was lost, to undo what was done amiss ... Repentance is work.'

One of my main impressions of Orthodox Religious was the tremendous sense of industry to work out their repentance, to put things right by humility, prayer, fasting, loss of self, and above all obedience. In this way, they are a Good Friday people. This is not a negative comment. Undergirding this sense of repentance and pain of separation, there is a joy bubbling, a gentle but intense joy. It may possibly be a gross generalisation, but I think the church in the West is more an Easter people. In effect, we complete the whole by being who we are: we need each other.
The other main input from the Greek Orthodox was their generous hospitality. The warmth of the country was matched by the warmth of the people. One of the most moving experiences for me was visiting a newly-founded monastery at Thebes. There, on the top of the hill, was a breeze-block shell that was to be the sisters' living space. They are living in containers - literally, of the P & O variety - whilst it is built, relying on donations of materials. They were so happy to welcome us that they insisted on feeding us. These sisters have very little, their life is at the moment very hard, and yet what little they had they shared. Late that night we returned home, having celebrated with singing and being laden with gifts. Such generosity is very humbling.
We did a lot of eating, as each monastery we visited welcomed us with some form of food and drink, after the liturgy. Something I shall never forget was the sheer beauty of their churches, and of standing in front of frescoes which were a thousand years old, keenly aware of the depth of their heritage and the responsibility they carry both to preserve and to bring to life such ancient forms of worship. The singing of the Office has changed little in hundreds of years and was both haunting in its antiquity as it was striking in its robustness.
We also engaged in much talking, my group spending a lot of time wrestling with the Orthodox perspective. There were frank and sometimes heated exchanges, in various languages, and at these times we were a microcosm of the church at large, feeling the pain and struggle of misunderstanding - but we were talking and listening. The hope was that each member present could take some of the work done in these groups back to her own environment, even if it was merely promoting a greater tolerance amongst churches of differing traditions.
I certainly feel that I understand the Eastern Church in more depth and with less suspicion, even if I can not agree with some of their theological emphases. My only regret is that the conference did not hear much about the experience of other churches, but as an introduction of the Orthodox way it was invaluable. I hope too that the Orthodox representatives came to understand a little of the ministries of Religious in the West, and the different nature of bringing the Gospel to those around us.
I hope that this article gives a flavour of the work Kaire is doing and I would like to commend it to you. More dialogue needs to happen if the Christian Church is going to remain a force for good in an increasingly materialistic world. Its energy needs to be properly channelled. Fighting amongst ourselves is not a productive way of using the tremendous power of the Gospel. The energy must be positive. Kaire is a spark for that energy. I am grateful for the opportunity I was given to experience its dynamic, which has widened my perspective.
The symbol of Kaire is a mosaic. Mary Germani, in Kaire's magazine, described it in these words, which sum up the value of the conference,

'The beauty of the design depends on differences rather than uniformity of the parts. Kaire too attempts to gather the many expressions of Christian spirituality, and the distinctiveness of its members, into a pattern, that of a praying community which sees beyond.'