The Eastern Orthodox Calendar Schism

Many people point out that the Eastern Orthodox don't schism over doctrine, but over things like the Calendar or how to hold one's fingers whilst crossing oneself.

From One Peter Five

By Robert Lazu Kmita, PhD

Just like any other attempt to convene a pan-Orthodox synod (i.e., council) of the Eastern national Churches, the so-called “Pan-Orthodox Council of Constantinople” (held in Istanbul from May 10 to June 8, 1923 and pictured above) was doomed to fail from the very beginning.[1] For among the most important invited churches, several were absent: the Patriarchates of Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem, as well as the Russian Orthodox Church. Under the patronage of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Istanbul (represented by the Ecumenical Patriarch of that moment, Meletius IV), which organized the event, the only participating churches were the Church of Greece, the Church of Cyprus, the Serbian Church, and the Romanian Church.

Despite the fact that among the participants there were theologians, clergy, and hierarchs who correctly understood the need to reform the Church calendar, the local effects were largely disastrous, and the controversies continue to this day. This becomes clearly evident when examining how things unfolded in the case of the national Orthodox Church of Romania. Before, however, recalling the events of that turbulent period, it is absolutely necessary to properly understand the underlying issue of determining the date of Easter.

An Astronomy Class and the Necessity of the Gregorian Reform

The essence of the entire calendar crisis is inextricably linked to the criterion for determining the date of Holy Easter. Unlike the great feast of the Nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ (i.e., Christmas), which has a fixed date (December 25), the feast of the Resurrection of the Lord is a “movable” one. Although seemingly of apostolic origin, an attempt to universally extend the criterion for establishing this date was made only in the context of the First Council of Nicaea, in the year 325.

The formulation is clear, naming the astronomical events according to which the date of Easter must be determined. However, among the twenty canons of this council, none explicitly contains it.[2] In fact, the Council of Nicaea does not have a collection of official documents; the information is provided to us indirectly, through authors such as Eusebius of Caesarea (c. 260/265–339) and Athanasius the Great (c. 296–298–373).

But let us not postpone the key question: what, then, is the criterion followed after the Council of Nicaea for determining the date of Easter? We find it in the article dedicated to Easter in the Catholic Encyclopedia:

Easter was celebrated in Rome and Alexandria on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox, and the Roman Church claimed for this observance the authority of Saints Peter and Paul.[3]

At the same time, as the Catholic lay theologian Dr. Johannes Oeldemann points out in a text published this year, “the rule for calculating the date of Easter that most churches refer to today—that is, Easter should be celebrated on the first Sunday after the first full moon following the spring equinox—is found only in later documents.”[4]

Already here we can see an imprecision with major consequences for the controversies surrounding the date of Easter: there is no explicit canon from any council regarding the criterion for determining the date of the most important feast in Christianity. Nevertheless, it has been repeatedly affirmed throughout the centuries that the only solid criterion is the one stated also in the Catholic Encyclopedia, which uses as reference points the two astronomical events: the spring equinox and the full moon. But if that is the case, what is the core of the entire debate?

Between the so-called solar calendar (or “astronomical” calendar) and the “civil” calendar, conventionally set by humans using astronomical events as reference points, there is—obviously—a close connection. However, this connection involves a certain degree of disharmony. The civil calendar is constructed somewhat artificially, based on imperfect human calculations—as is everything human.

More precisely, the civil calendar refers to the interval of time between the moment the Earth starts from a specific point in the zodiac to make a full rotation around the Sun, and the moment it returns to that same zodiacal point. Over time, it was observed that the astronomical year—that is, the time it takes the Earth to complete one orbit around the Sun—is not exactly equal to the civil year. The former measures 365 days, 5 hours, 48 minutes, and 45 seconds, while the latter, through “rounding,” is 365 days and 6 hours.

The difference between them—11 minutes and 15 seconds—causes the civil year to fall behind the solar year. After 128 years, the civil year lags by an entire day. Over the centuries, this discrepancy grew catastrophically. Thus, this mismatch is the central reason for the debates surrounding the calendar, as well as for the major reform initiated in 1582 by Pope Gregory XIII (1502–1585), through which the Julian calendar was corrected.

To summarize the essentials: the core issue of the calendar lies in the mismatch between the movement of the main celestial bodies (the sun and the moon) and human calendrical calculations. Once this mismatch was discovered, the issue arose of restoring unity and harmony between the astronomical and civil calendars. In turn, this re-harmonization raises another question: which calendar should be the point of reference?

The 1923 Crisis and Afterward

The majority of theologians and hierarchs from the countries that participated in the Pan-Orthodox Council of Constantinople in 1923 stated that the reference point should be the actual movement of the celestial bodies, through the two astronomical events that determine the coordinates for establishing the date of the Resurrection: the spring equinox and the first full moon after the equinox. The opposing side argued that the old civil calendar, which has no necessary connection to the astronomical calendar, should be preserved unchanged.

Theoretically speaking, the Council adopted as a reference for establishing the date of Easter the same principle that guided the reform initiated by Pope Gregory XIII—that the astronomical events of the spring equinox and the full moon serve as the reference. However, practically speaking, the reactions of those who did not accept the reform led to the postponement of its implementation or even to its mixture with the old criterion (i.e., the Julian calendar). At the same time, the “Orthodox” hierarchs tried to avoid giving the impression that they were following the Gregorian (i.e., Catholic) reform. That is why, even nowadays, the Easter date in national “Orthodox” churches coincides with the date established by the Catholic Church only occasionally. Additionally, the “Orthodox” world is divided between those who use the “New Calendar” (established by them) and those who adhere to the “Old Calendar”—the Julian calendar. Thus, this decision not only failed to establish a common criterion for the Western and Eastern Christian worlds but also provoked divisions within their national churches.

To better understand what happened, here is what one of most important Romania’s interwar intellectuals, Mircea Vulcănescu, who opposed the 1923 reform, had to say on this matter:

By implying that the apostles inseparably linked the Spring of the soul to the springtime of the year, Romanian bishops are driven to think—without realizing it—that the Christian Easter would have a necessary connection with the pagan celebration of spring. No matter how strong the analogy between the two springs, not only can there be no connection between them, but they are fundamentally different, with no comparison possible, due to the essential meaning of Easter—a chasm impassable for pagans.[5]

The association between astronomy and pre-Christian, pagan religiosity is a fallacious rhetorical abuse, meant only to inflame tensions and deepen the controversies. The Orthodox secular propaganda that opposed the calendar reform also had strong anti-Catholic and anti-rationalist motivations.[6] Critical statements published in Romania’s press in 1923 and afterward had dramatic consequences—as shown in a testimony by a lay Orthodox author who opposed the Orthodox hierarchy and the decision to reform the calendar, Vasile Băncilă:

People are in a state of turmoil. Priests complain that they have been mocked and are no longer listened to. Doors have been shut in their faces, or they’ve been driven away, or people refused to kiss the cross. From the Feast of the Holy Archangels, the faithful essentially made the celebration of Saint Demetrius; in some places, there were embarrassing incidents between villagers and altar servants. In other places, it was necessary to mention in the service the saint indicated by tradition. What’s more serious, some have threatened to convert to Adventism. In one county in Muntenia, it is said that a respectable association was formed with the purpose of fighting against the new calendar. The daily newspapers reported that in Northern Moldova, peasants resisted so strongly that the local metropolis had to intervene; or that priests are respecting the new calendar only because they are ordered to, with elderly priests already sincerely siding with their parishioners. And these are only the first signs in this direction.[7]

Young Orthodox believers, led by the most important intellectual figure of Romania’s interwar period, professor and journalist Nae Ionescu, launched a direct campaign against the Synod of the national “Orthodox” Church, advocating for the revocation of the decision made at the Istanbul Conference. In all these instances, anti-Catholic sentiment reached a paroxysm.

What the Romanian critics of the Gregorian reform—followers of Nae Ionescu and Mircea Vulcănescu—failed to understand had already been grasped and demonstrated by their friend and contemporary, Mircea Eliade. He had shown that the Incarnation of Our Lord Jesus Christ not only decisively influenced world history by bringing God down to earth, but also fulfilled everything that had been positive in the religious life of the pagan world, prefiguring the Incarnation and preparing the way for the Gospel. Implicitly, the Christian calendar had absorbed a certain spiritual conception of astronomy, of Pythagorean-Platonist origin. This synthesis occurred through the critical reception of Greco-Roman paganism undertaken by the great Church Fathers—such as Saints Ambrose, Augustine, Basil the Great, Gregory of Nyssa, and Gregory of Nazianzus.

Returning to the dispute surrounding the calendar and the date of Easter, let us now see why the arguments of those who rejected the reform proposed in the national “Orthodox” Churches by the 1923 conference are—to say the least—doubtful.

Praeparatio Evangelica: from the Greco-Latin World to the Christian Symbolic Universe

Without exception, all critics invoke the non-dogmatic nature of the dates of various feasts, claiming that any changes made do not in any way—according to them—affect Orthodox faith. Therefore, the calendar issue is not a dogmatic one. One could have responded by using their very own non-dogmatic premise: if the calendar dates of Christian feasts are not matters of faith, then why all the violent reactions from their side and endless polemics? In any case, their counterarguments were possible because the true underlying motivations and foundations of the astronomical doctrine behind calendrical calculations were not properly understood.

I must confess with astonishment that in all the books, studies and articles I have consulted, I found no reference to the astronomical symbolism that the Church calendar is tied to. According to my interpretation, the symbolic dimension of time and astronomical events is the main decisive reason for calendar reform as well as for the criterion established at the Council of Nicaea. This symbolic system is a doctrine or theory—of a theological-metaphysical nature—conveyed by the calendar of the Christian world. Let us see what this is about.

The foundations of patristic astronomy are found in Platonic philosophy, which contains a set of principles valid throughout the entire ancient culture. First and foremost, in the dialogue Politeia (often incorrectly translated as The Republic), we learn that by observing the sky and the stars, the true astronomer—who bases his knowledge on contemplation of the heavens, not on telescope observations—will come to think of their Creator:

Do you not think (…) that one who was an astronomer in very truth would feel in the same way when he turned his eyes upon the movements of the stars? He will be willing to concede that the artisan of heaven fashioned it and all that it contains in the best possible manner for such a fabric (Politeia, 530a).

Later, Plato reveals the spiritual value of astronomy which, when practiced as contemplation of the sky, leads to the purification and harmonization of the soul in accordance with celestial purity and harmony. In principle, this “Greek Moses” (as he was described by Numenius of Apamea) says the same thing as the prophet David:

“The heavens shew forth the glory of God, and the firmament declareth the work of his hands” (Psalm 18: 2).

As for time as a whole, the Platonic conception was likewise adopted by patristic astronomical thought, which recognized in the following definition the most fitting description of the relationship (established by God Himself) between our visible world and the eternal, invisible one:

He planned to make a movable image of Eternity, and, as He set in order the Heaven, of that Eternity which abides in unity He made an eternal image, moving according to number, even that which we have named Time (Timaeus, 37d).

From all of the above, we can deduce the metaphoric-ontological character of Platonic astronomy, in which the heavens symbolize a reality higher than themselves—the “world of ideas”—and time symbolizes eternity. I must emphasize that astronomical symbolism does not exclude calendrical calculation and precision, but rather completes and enriches them, giving them spiritual meaning.

In the Christian Church there is no person, gesture, or liturgical object that lacks mystical significance. From the Divine Liturgy to the simplest gestures made by priests and faithful during Liturgical events, the monumental traditional symbolic universe contains an extraordinary wealth of meanings. All these are framed within liturgical time, structured by the Church calendar.

The ecclesiastical year is itself an icon of eternity, a fact indicated by the cyclical repetition of liturgical events. The annual recurrence of Christian feasts symbolizes the permanence characteristic of eternity. In turn, the moments of the liturgical year have deep anagogical (mystical) meanings. Regarding the Feast of the Resurrection of the Lord, we have already seen the necessary astronomical reference points for determining its date: the spring equinox and the phases of the moon.

The correlation between the two categories of events—liturgical and astronomical—is based on the analogical principle of symbolic correspondence: Church—Human—Cosmos, a principle synthesized by Saint Maximus the Confessor in his brilliant Mystagogy.[8] Paradoxically and ironically, by rejecting the Gregorian calendar reform, the Eastern “traditionalist” defenders of the old, non-reformed Julian calendar were simultaneously rejecting the very worldview of the Church Fathers they claimed to follow.

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[1] It is probably also significant that the documents of this council were only translated and published in 2003, eighty years after the event took place: Patrick Demetrios Viscuso, A Quest for Reform of the Orthodox Church: The 1923 Pan-Orthodox Congress: An Analysis and Translation of its Acts and Decisions, Foreword by Demetrios Constantelos, Berkeley, CA: InterOrthodox Press, 2003.

[2] Here we can read the twenty canons online: https://www.papalencyclicals.net/councils/ecum01.htm and https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/3801.htm [Accessed: 22 July 2025].

[3] Catholic Encyclopaedia, art. “Easter:” https://www.newadvent.org/cathen/05224d.htm [Accessed: 22 July 2025].

[4] Towards a Common Date for Easter, Edited by Sandra Beardsall and Martin Illert, World Council of Churches, 2025, p. 19.

[5] Mircea Vulcănescu, Posibilitățile filosofiei creştine (The Possibilities of Christian Philosophy), Bucharest, Anastasia Publishing House, 1996, p. 126.

[6] In Mircea Vulcănescu’s volume cited above, two articles relevant to this topic can be read: “The Infallibility of the Church and Synodal Fallibility” and “Between Catholicism and Heresy or the Dogmatic Consequences of Synodal Error.”

[7] Vasile Băncilă, “The Reform of the Calendar,” in Spiritul sărbătorii (The Spirit of the Feast), Bucharest, Anastasia Publishing House, 1996, pp. 23-24.

[8] Saint Maximus the Confessor, On the Ecclesiastical Mystagogy, Translated by Jonathan J. Armstrong , Saint Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2019.

Pictured: Ecumenical Patriarch Meletius IV, who convened the 1923 Council of Constantinople.