Filaret’s “Spiritual Testament” in Canonical Perspective: History, Ecclesiology, and Paths to Unity

Metropolitan (Honorary Patriarch) Filaret (Denysenko) occupies a singular place in the history of modern Ukrainian Orthodoxy. For decades he stood among the most visible church leaders in the post-Soviet space, shaping public consciousness around the idea of an autocephalous Ukrainian Church. His recent “Spiritual Testament,” issued after the formation of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine (OCU), quickly drew wide attention from believers, theologians, and church historians. The document blends personal spiritual reflection with an ecclesio-political vision for the future: it calls for the unification of all strands of Ukrainian Orthodoxy into “one independent Church,” reaffirms his lifelong struggle for ecclesial independence, and gestures toward the possibility of a new “unifying council.”

The Testament contains noble pastoral appeals—to love, to unity, to perseverance in faith. At the same time, it raises questions that require careful canonical and ecclesiological analysis: the status of the former UOC-KP (Kyiv Patriarchate) after 2018; the use of patriarchal titles; the nature of autocephaly and who grants it; the line between charismatic leadership and the limits of canonical order; and what a “new” council could realistically accomplish. This essay addresses those questions within Orthodox canonical tradition and the broader historical context.

Historical and Ecclesial Background

On 15 December 2018 in Kyiv’s St. Sophia, bishops of the UOC-KP and the UAOC voted to dissolve their separate structures and join together—along with participating hierarchs from the then UOC (under the Moscow Patriarchate)—to form the Orthodox Church of Ukraine. This move cleared the way for the Ecumenical Patriarchate to grant a Tomos of Autocephaly to a united Church on the territory of the historic Kyiv Metropolis. From that moment, the UOC-KP ceased to exist canonically as an independent ecclesial body. Efforts to revive it afterward are more symbolic or political than canonical; its rights and responsibilities were effectively subsumed into the new ecclesial reality recognized by Constantinople.

In October 2018, as part of the reconciliation process, Patriarch Bartholomew restored Filaret to canonical communion as a bishop—specifically as Metropolitan, not as patriarch. This act did not validate the self-declared Kyiv Patriarchate of the 1990s; it restored a hierarch to sacramental fellowship. After the OCU was constituted, Filaret was accorded the honorary title often rendered as Patriarcha honoris causa—a gesture of respect for his historical role, not a juridical enthronement. In functional terms, his status is that of a metropolitan emeritus (“on retirement”), retaining dignity and precedence without administrative governance.

The Testament is significant not because it legislates anything—it does not—but because it captures the self-understanding of a leading figure whose charisma helped catalyze an era. It frames unity as both a spiritual and national task. Yet, when it speaks of a “new unifying council” to create a Church “independent of both Moscow and Constantinople,” it enters contested canonical terrain and risks confusing pastoral aspiration with juridical possibility. To assess it fairly, we need the lenses of canon law and ecclesiology.

Canonical Status of the Former Kyiv Patriarchate

The conciliar decision of December 2018 was more than a handshake; it was a formal self-dissolution of the UOC-KP and the UAOC for the sake of unity in a new, recognized structure. In Orthodox law, such decisions matter: they change who holds ecclesiastical property and representation, but more importantly, who bears canonical identity. Post-2018, the recognized continuation of the historic Kyiv Church is the OCU, not the UOC-KP or UAOC as separate entities.

Orthodox tradition is clear: a patriarchate is not self-proclaimed. Patriarchal status arises through recognition—either by an Ecumenical Council, by the Ecumenical Patriarch as first in honor with specific prerogatives, or by stable reception across the Orthodox communion. Historical examples bear this out:

• Russia became a patriarchate in 1589–1593 through the action and recognition of Constantinople.
• Serbia was recognized in the 14th century and later restored in the 20th.
• Romania was elevated in 1925 with Constantinople’s agreement.
• Bulgaria proclaimed itself in 1872 but was only recognized in 1945 after reconciliation.
• Georgia restored its patriarchate in 1917 and received formal recognition from Constantinople in 1990.

Likewise, in the Eastern Catholic sphere, Major Archbishop Josyf Slipyj used the title “Patriarch” as a moral claim, but the Holy See did not juridically confirm it. Across traditions, the pattern stands: patriarchate is a recognized dignity, not a unilateral assertion.

The Ecumenical Patriarchate framed its 2018–2019 actions as a return to the canonical order of the Kyiv Metropolis, which historically belonged to Constantinople and was anomalously administered by Moscow after 1686. By revoking the 1686 letter’s misinterpretations and granting a Tomos to the OCU, Constantinople presented the OCU as the canonical heir to Kyiv’s ancient see. In that logic, the OCU is not “a third option” between Moscow and a self-declared Kyiv Patriarchate, but the normative restoration of Kyiv’s rightful ecclesial status.

Autocephaly: Administrative, Not Dogmatic

Orthodoxy regards autocephaly as administrative: it concerns governance, not the content of faith. The theological tradition recognizes that forms of church order can develop for the good of the Church (oikonomia) without altering the apostolic faith. In granting the Tomos to the OCU, Constantinople acted pastorally to heal division and restore eucharistic communion. That is why the question, “Who granted autocephaly?” matters: in canonical terms, reception and recognition are constitutive.

This also clarifies a key point in the Testament’s rhetoric. A Church “independent of both Moscow and Constantinople” is not a coherent Orthodox formula. No local Church is “independent” in the absolute sense; each lives in communion with the others. Real freedom in the Church is never isolation; it is the freedom to witness Christ within the communion of Churches.

What a “New Unifying Council” Can—and Cannot—Do

Orthodox councils do not function as parliaments. Their authority is derivative of communion: a council is authoritative because the Church receives it, not because it voted on something. Hence:

• A “new council” held outside the OCU’s canonical framework would lack reception by Constantinople and other Churches; it would risk creating another parallel structure.
• A council within the OCU, by contrast, could certainly welcome hierarchs or communities into communion, allow them voice and vote in future assemblies, and even—if the Church so discerns—elect a primate in which all duly received hierarchs participate. That would not constitute founding a new Church; it would be expanding the existing autocephalous Church.

Canonically, procedures for receiving communities previously out of communion are well established in Orthodox tradition (classically illustrated by Canon 8 of Nicaea I, among other precedents). In short, the path forward is integration, not duplication.

The OCU’s Ecclesial Legitimacy and Historical Parallels

Orthodox ecclesiology holds that legitimacy rests on communion, not on head counts or political clout. History abounds with moments when a minority preserved canonical continuity. The Union of Brest (1596) is instructive: only a portion of bishops remained within Orthodox communion, yet they bore the line of continuity for the Kyiv Church. This principle carries into the present: the OCU’s legitimacy does not depend on how many hierarchs joined on day one; it rests on the Tomos and communion with the Ecumenical Patriarchate and those Churches that recognize the Tomos.

When the Orthodox hierarchy in the lands of the Kyiv Metropolis was effectively extinguished after the Union of Brest, Patriarch Theophanes of Jerusalem in 1620 consecrated a new hierarchy, restoring canonical order—not creating a new Church. The action was understood as resurrecting the normal ecclesial life of Kyiv. Constantinople’s 2018–2019 decisions present themselves in a similar key: not innovation, but restoration.

The 20th century saw several attempted self-proclaimed autocephalies (Georgia in 1917, Bulgaria earlier in 1872, various movements in Ukraine). In each instance, lasting resolution came through external recognition and reconciliation. The lesson is consistent: Orthodoxy is symphonic, not self-referential. A local Church flourishes in proportion to its communion with the whole.

Filaret’s Testament: Pastoral Witness vs. Juridical Act

Read charitably, the Testament is foremost a spiritual text. It records a pastor’s final appeals: preserve the faith, love one another, guard the independence of the Church from hostile pressures. As such, it has moral weight. It offers a window into a conscience formed by struggle, persecution, and a sincere desire for the flourishing of the Ukrainian Church.

Yet, because Filaret no longer governs the Church, the Testament cannot be read as a normative administrative act. It does not alter the OCU’s structure, it does not create or restore a patriarchate, and it does not trump the Tomos. A careful ecclesiological reading distinguishes between charismatic word and canonical act: the first can inspire; the second requires proper authority and reception.

It is both just and pastorally healthy to honor Filaret’s historical contributions—few doubt that his persistence helped move Ukraine toward autocephaly. It is equally necessary to safeguard the truth that the Church’s unity and order do not depend on one personality. The OCU expresses gratitude through the honorary title while maintaining that canonical governance belongs to its synod and primate within the terms of the Tomos.

Autocephaly Revisited: Freedom, Oikonomia, and Communion

In Christian theology, genuine freedom is not self-assertion but freedom for love and witness. Autocephaly serves this end: it allows a Church to inculturate the Gospel responsibly within a particular people and culture. As many Orthodox theologians note, autocephaly is meaningful only in service to unity and salvation; it is not a banner for ecclesial nationalism.

The decision of Constantinople to grant a Tomos to the OCU should be read through the lens of oikonomia—pastoral discretion used to preserve the deeper good of unity and sacramental life. Historically, many autocephalies were regularized after de facto developments. The key test is whether the new arrangement invites wider communion and mission. By restoring Kyiv to its traditional place and opening a path for healing, the Tomos aimed precisely at that.

Legitimacy in Orthodoxy is confirmed by communion—first of all with the Ecumenical Patriarchate, then by reception among the local Churches. The OCU’s place in world Orthodoxy has already been received by several Patriarchates and is part of an ongoing process with others. Whatever the pace, the theological point remains: a Church’s identity grows through recognition, concelebration, and shared confession, not through isolation.

Conclusions

Filaret’s “Spiritual Testament” stands as a poignant personal witness at the close of a long and consequential ministry. It articulates deep pastoral desires: the unity of the Church, fidelity to the faith, and the preservation of Ukraine’s ecclesial identity. Properly read, however, it is not a juridical instrument and cannot undo, replace, or supersede the Tomos granted to the Orthodox Church of Ukraine.

The canonical record and Orthodox tradition point to several stable conclusions:

• The UOC-KP and UAOC self-dissolved in 2018 to form the OCU, which is recognized by the Ecumenical Patriarchate as the canonical heir of the Kyiv Metropolis.
• Patriarchal dignity is recognized, not self-conferred. Filaret’s honorary title expresses respect, not jurisdiction.
• Any authentic “unifying council” today can only occur within the OCU’s autocephalous framework; reception of other groups would be an act of joining, not of founding another Church.
• Autocephaly is administrative and pastoral—a tool for mission and unity, not an absolute political end.

Seen in this light, the Testament retains genuine spiritual value. It challenges the OCU to remain faithful to the ideal of unity in truth, to honor those who labored for autocephaly, and to avoid triumphalism. It also calls all parties to recognize that communion—not numbers, not slogans, not unilateral titles—is the bedrock of Orthodox legitimacy.

If the last word of a long life in church service is a plea for unity and love, then the most authentic way to honor it is to persevere in the canonical path already opened: patient reception, synodal life, and the Eucharist as the source and summit of reconciliation. In that path, the legacy of Kyiv as a living center of Christian witness can continue—not as a monument to past struggles, but as a humble, missionary Church serving Christ and the people of Ukraine in freedom and communion.