In his wonderful overview history of Orthodox Christianity, Fr John McGuckin intriguingly suggests that the treasures of Orthodoxy, if willingly shared and gratefully received, might find that their perseverance in the West will be at least as much in the non-Orthodox churches as in the relatively poor and often ethnically specific churches of the Orthodox diaspora. My understanding is that these treasures might include such things as iconographic traditions, spiritual theology, ascetical practices, liturgical texts and music, and so on. Clearly, such ‘borrowings’ (if that’s what they are) are very much in the mainstream for many churches in the ‘West’ if you consider the prevalence of icons in many non-Orthodox settings, the widespread use of the Jesus Prayer (see, for example, Franz Jalics’ work) or the broad-based engagement with Desert spirituality (Nouwen, Merton, Ward, Williams, Chitty, etc.).

Some Orthodox are troubled by this tendency, seeing it as a kind of appropriation of Christian traditions of one part of the Christian family by another. This can be problematic both because of the imbalanced history of relations between these families of churches and because the adoption of only some traditions, torn from their primary context in a living community, can look rather like a pick ‘n’ mix spiritual consumerism, lacking integrity or coherence.

I don’t deny this risk, but I would want to make two suggestions for other processes that may be at work here. One is the simple reclaiming of lost elements of shared spiritual heritage. The iconographic traditions of early mediaeval Scotland or Italy could be (and have been) mistaken for images deriving from Coptic or Byzantine sources. The Jesus Prayer ultimately finds its roots in the Desert Fathers, not least Diadochus of Photiki, who should rightly be seen as a saint of the undivided church. The ‘Eastern’ manner of making the sign of the cross was common to all Christians before the modern period. These practices need not be seen as belonging to only one part of the church any more than the use of the Psalter as the core prayer book of all Christians who are serious about a disciplined life of prayer. I am cautious about the Anglican love of the ‘Vincentian Canon’ (that which has been believed everywhere, always and by all) because it risks a simplistic view of the development of tradition (see David Bentley Hart’s excellent work on this). However, it does express something important, which is that there is something like a common repository of spiritual texts, insights, doctrines and practices which properly belong to the mainstream of catholic/orthodox Christianity. It can’t be defined as neatly as to be called a canon, but we would surely all agree on some elements of that shared inheritance that go beyond Scripture and Credal faith (Eucharist, Baptism, other sacramental rites, works of compassion, some level of Patristic witness, certain practices like fasting, devotional gestures, some degree of common iconography, patterns of daily prayer, recognition of certain saints, patterns of ordained ministry in continuity with the Apostles, musical traditions etc.). Some of these elements are hotly contested, some missing from certain traditions, and some are more strongly local in their flavour than others. For Anglican Christians like me, who have a keener sense of continuity than disruption in their view of how we fit into the sweep of Christian history, it is vital that we relearn some of the habits that were lost in that iconoclastic blip we experienced in the early modern period. To do that, it seems reasonable to do that relearning by humbly listening to those who did not experience such ruptures without, of course, falling into the trap of imagining that we will find some kind of pristinely preserved source.

The second process I would propose is not unrelated. It is the desire that many of us have to see the closer unity of Christians. The road to that unity is one in which mutual learning is vital, and the gradual adoption of shared practices seems desirable as we learn how to grow closer together. This is not a one-way street. Orthodox churches might benefit from the insights of those who have long practised Christian faith in ‘Western’ contexts in terms of what cultural forms resonate with believers here.

I have long benefited from the wisdom of many Orthodox teachers who have cultural roots in the West (Clement, Gillet, McGuckin, Behr-Sigel, Ware) as well as those from lines of inheritance deeply rooted in the Orthodox cultures of Eastern and South-Eastern Europe, some of which were transplanted in the West. It is hardly surprising that these interactions would lead to an enrichment of Western European Christian life with treasures from its shared roots with spiritual siblings from other parts of our small continent, roots which might well have flowered in more similar patterns had history taken different turns. I pray that their rediscovery will be a means of greater unity and, possibly even more importantly, spiritual growth.