“Faith in the Resurrection, it lightens everything”

Novelist, columnist at Pilgrimtheologian … on the “profession” line, what do you first write?

In the broad sense, my daily activity is writing. I always have a novel on fire! But for three years, I have become a student again. I started a doctorate in theology, shared between the Saint-Serge Orthodox Institute and the Catholic Institute of Paris. My thesis focuses on the relationship between hymns sung in the Byzantine rite and Holy Scripture.

This taste for writing, have you always had it?

As a child, I loved reading, and writing came naturally, by this very pronounced taste of reading. And also, quite simply, by editors at school. At the end of college, we stopped doing it. I was so frustrated that I decided to write my own editors.

You sometimes mention your children in your chronicles. How old are they?

Our daughters are 15 and 12 years old, our son, 9 years old. As my husband is Lebanese, and I of Russian origin, we looked for names common to our two cultures: Catherine, for Saint Catherine of Alexandria, whom we love very much; Anissia, a first name brought to Greece as in Russia, which honors a Holy Orthodox Greek; And Grégoire, in honor of Saint Grégoire Palamas, archbishop of Thessaloniki and great theologian. Three large figures of antiquity.

Your husband, an employee of an international group, is also deacon in your Orthodox parish. Concretely, what is its role?

Its function is mainly liturgical. He notably supports the prayers called “litanies”, which end with: “Let us pray to the Lord”. He is a bit the one who keeps order in the celebration (laughs) .

Is that a commitment that you made in common?

Yes, the diaconate, just like the priesthood, requires the agreement of the wife. It is also very likely that my husband becomes one day priest, because there is a strong need. In orthodoxy, most priests are married men. They thus live in their flesh the reality of families. On the pastoral level, this anchor is very rich. Even if, sometimes we juggle a little!

Among the Lossky, we have been theologian from father to son for at least three generations. Your great-grandfather, Vladimir, is also very well known in the Orthodox world. Can you tell us more?

He was expelled from Russia in 1922, passed through Prague, then arrived in Paris at the age of 21. He experienced his meeting with Western Christianity as a Providence. His son, Nicolas, my grandfather, also worked a lot to create a unified French-speaking orthodoxy and develop ecumenical dialogue. As for my father, André, professor of retired liturgical theology, he has recently been a priest. He conducted his teaching in parallel with more food work.

Exile, Orthodox faith … How do you feel connected to this heritage?

He is very present, but he does not weigh me. One day, a priest with whom I mentioned the role played by my ancestors had this decisive word: “You know, God has no grandchildren. He has only children. In other words, at each generation, the challenge is not to be the “grandson of”, but to become, on a personal basis, child of God.

Do you encourage your children there?

The subject is rich in discussions between us! Of course, we try to transmit this hope of faith to them. With all our faults and quantity of unconscious elements that escape us. The love we have for them is only a very pale reflection of divine love, but it is the first they receive. And, perhaps, a step to turn to God.

In line, did the female part also have its importance?

My paternal grandmother, Véronique, marked me a lot. She was a professor of Russian literature. We had a great bond, she read my first manuscripts. It was a solar personality, full of humor and self -mockery. She knew how to give lightness to the family memory, not to do something “museified”. It is a message of life for me.

Your bisaïeul brought the great desire for a French -speaking Orthodox unit. But today, this unit is in crisis …

Ideally, orthodoxy is a communion of sister churches which each embody the fullness of the church in a particular local context. From this point of view, we are indeed experiencing a period of regression. In the 1970s, a desire for unity animated part of the Russian and Greek communities wishing to celebrate in French. The influx of new waves of emigration has rebuilt the cards. From the fall of the Berlin Wall, Russians, Romanians, “post-Soviet” Serbs arrived, with their own way of embodying orthodoxy. Each community now tends to withdraw in its ethnic bubble. There is a convergence to find.

When the Moscow patriarch encourages Russian soldiers to eliminate the Ukrainian brother, also orthodox, how do we live such a fracture?

It’s extremely painful. Not only is fraternity betrayed, but also the very essence of our faith. Because our center is the cross of Christ, the love that gives itself! This biased theology, resulting from an imperialist current, has absolutely no need to be. Especially from the church of Russia which has known so many martyrs.

You receive us in the Saint-Matthieu chapel, in Neuilly-sur-Seine, loaned by the Catholic church. What patriarchy do you depend on?

Our small community chose in 2020 to remain attached to the patriarchy of Constantinople, via the Vicariat Sainte-Marie-de-Paris. Fortunately, we have kept links with our original parish of Daru Street (Paris XIII, community now attached to Moscow, editor’s note ). Unity, I am convinced, will reform by personal friendships that we must cultivate, even if our ecclesial and political choices are not the same.

This year, the coincidence of calendars allows all Christians to celebrate Easter on the same day. A sign for ecumenism?

I admire the missionary perspective of Pope Francis, who wishes to institute a unique date. Celebrate the resurrection of Christ together should be obvious! It is a question of testimony. But this common date should not be established at the cost of new schisms. Most Western Orthodox is quite ready, I think, but not the rest of the orthodoxy.

What can Orthodox spirituality bring to Catholics?

No doubt the liturgical experience. In our theology, the liturgy is participation in the kingdom, the updating of divine life from present life. This almost bimillennial tradition also has its heaviness. Our Catholic brothers can precisely help us do the share of things. This is what I discover by working with them at the Catholic Institute of Paris.

What will your holy week look like?

Holy Thursday, for about three hours, we listen to twelve gospels which tell the passion. This long, repetitive office allows you to leave the tempo of our hectic lives. Follow other offices, until the Pascale celebration: an incredible bursting of joy, the heart of our liturgical year. Yes, we really feel the proximity of Christ who, by his resurrection, assures us that neither the death of our loved ones nor our own death lead to nothingness.

“Christ is risen, it is really risen,” proclaim the orthodox on the morning of Easter Sunday …

That’s the challenge! How, through our little miseries, to show that Christ makes himself present in his creation, in the beauty of human relations, in this innocence of children who talks to us about the kingdom? This is where I situate my writing work. Giving meaning to a reality which may seem absurd, to track down this presence which goes beyond us and which tells us that life is stronger than all tragedies.

When the first Russian emigrants arrived in France, they had nothing left, except their intellectual wealth and prayer. At the heart of their exile, they were carried by their faith in the resurrection. In our small parish, we also started with nothing: some icons, some candles. This very light position gives us the strength to remain centered on the essentials. Yes, hope in the resurrection, it lightens everything.