[Published in The Greek-Australian Vema, July 2008, 3]

The Kiss of Peace:

Present, Past and Perhaps Future

By Revd Dr Doru Costache

The liturgical life is indeed central to the Orthodox experience. On the one hand, through the
rhythms of doxology it brings God’s people within the immediate – mysterious and sacramental –
proximity of our Lord: ritual is an event of participation. On the other hand, it inspires and
manifests powerfully the main aspects of the ecclesial way of life: the ritual is an educational
framework.

However, many among us are estranged from the ecclesial mindset and unable to grasp the
meaning and purpose of the Divine Liturgy, or to fully participate in the liturgical spirit, even
when they are emotionally present there. What causes this situation could be the lack of interest
for catechetical – and specifically liturgical – instruction; this is a sign of people being complacent
with what they think they know about the Divine Liturgy. The consequences of this disinterest for
instruction are severe and extensive. An important outcome of ignorance, for example, is the idea
that liturgical life has exclusively inner dimensions and emotional components but no concrete
manifestations and practical implications whatsoever. More precisely, people do not discern in
the liturgical event an implicit pattern to be followed in everyday life, experiencing instead a
disconnection (‘level fracture’) of worship and life. Yet in the Divine Liturgy there are at least a
few moments when we are implicitly taught otherwise, like with the kiss, or embrace, of peace.

Within the contemporary order of the Divine Liturgy the clergy who are concelebrating perform
the kiss of peace, right before the proclamation of faith, the Creed. This moment within the ritual
takes place when the deacon (or the priest) exhorts: ‘Let us love one another, ἀγαπήσωμεν
ἀλλήλους, that with one mind we may confess’, and the people respond: ‘Father, Son and Holy
Spirit, Trinity of one essence and inseparable’. Parallel to this dialogue, the clergy in the holy altar
come one by one. Starting with the bishop or the presbyter presiding at the liturgy, they
reverently bow down and kiss the holy gifts to be offered – an expression of their sharing in
Christ’s priesthood, since the holy gifts represent the incarnate and crucified Lord. Then, they
embrace one another as a sign of sacerdotal communion and brotherly love in Christ. Concretely,
after venerating the holy gifts, the concelebrants come and greet the bishop or the presiding
presbyter, embracing each other and proclaiming: ‘Christ is in our midst – He was and is and will
be’. From the outset, this ritual was taken by the Church as a necessary condition for the progress
and fulfilment of the holy synaxis, the liturgical assembly. Our prayers and offerings cannot be
presented to God if there is no peace and love between us (cf. Matthew 5:23-24).

During the first Christian millennium, the kiss of peace was a ritual act – charged with existential
connotations – performed by all those who participated in the holy synaxis. This was understood
as a manifestation of the state of communion, proper to the “chosen race” and “royal
priesthood” which is God’s people (cf. 1 Peter 2:9). This act is echoed by the most characteristic
greetings in the Pauline epistles, such as: ἀσπάσασθε ἀλλήλους ἐν φιλήματι ἁγίῳ ‘greet one
another with a holy kiss’ (Romans 16:16), ἀσπάσασθε τοὺς ἀδελφοὺς πάντας ἐν φιλήματι ἁγίῳ
‘greet all the brethren with a holy kiss’ (1 Thessalonians 5:26). In the second century, St Justin
Martyr also mentioned this gesture of the entire worshipping community: ἀλλήλους φιλήματι
ἀσπαζόμεθα ‘we greet one another with a kiss’ (First Apology 65). This communal act was still
performed during the sixth and seventh centuries. In fact, the author known by tradition as St
Dionysius the Areopagite observed that ἀσπασαμένων ἀλλήλους ἀπάντων ‘all exchange the
kiss’ (The Ecclesiastical Hierarchy 3.2), and called this moment ὁ θειότατος ἀσπασμός ‘the most-
divine kiss’ (The Ecclesiastical Hierarchy 3.3). St Maximus the Confessor gave an ecclesial
interpretation of the practice: ‘The spiritual kiss, πνευματικὸς ἀσπασμός, which is extended to
all prefigures and portrays the concord, unanimity and identity of views which we shall all have
among ourselves in faith and love at the time of the revelation of the ineffable blessings to come’
(The Mystagogy 17). Invited by the priest, the ritual of divine embrace was still practiced by the
entire congregation in the fourteenth century, according to St Nicholas Cabasilas who designated
it as ἡ πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγάπη (‘mutual love’; On the Divine Liturgy 26).

Today, it is ironic that various Christian Churches have in fact preserved the custom of shaking
hands in remembrance of this venerable act, while we Orthodox have lost it in the process of
historical becoming. Perhaps we should contemplate bringing this apostolic practice back. As a
manifestation of our unity as God’s people who strive to obey the commandment of the Lord to
‘love one another’ (John 13:34), the kiss of peace gives substance to our confession of faith. To
return to the liturgical dialogue, only by loving each other – as confirmed through, or enfleshed
by, the kiss of peace – may we proclaim the undivided Trinity as the paradigm of communion
and the source of life for the God’s people. And only a Church of communion reflects the
Trinitarian love.

There is also another implication of the holy kiss, of immediate practical significance yet not
unrelated to the previous. By making people literally turn to their neighbours, it brings them in
contact with one another inviting them to pass beyond the indifference of living parallel lives, to
come closer truly and become one people, one body, one Church. The ritual inspires life! The
social consequences of this physical act of mutual acknowledgment are immense. Let us
remember here that the Byzantine Church, preserving faithfully the apostolic custom of the holy
embrace, was able to influence profoundly the entire society so that the Byzantine Empire had
become the first political regime to develop a consistent and efficient system of social care.
Should we not learn from the wisdom of our own history?