“Behold the Man”: Met Tychikos case as a mirror of the Church’s crisis
The story of the persecution of the Cypriot hierarch has revealed how far the Church is willing to go in sacrificing a person for the sake of administrative convenience.
“Then Jesus came out wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. And Pilate said to them, ‘Behold the Man!’” (John 19:5)
When Pilate brought Christ before the people, he hoped that seeing a beaten, bloodied, and humiliated man would move the crowd to pity. He hoped that the suffering of an innocent person would quiet the hatred of those demanding His death. But Pilate was mistaken: “When the chief priests and the officers saw Him, they cried out, saying, ‘Crucify Him, crucify Him!’ Pilate said to them, ‘Take Him yourselves and crucify Him, for I find no fault in Him.’”
That moment was not a test for Christ, but for those who considered themselves believers. For the suffering of the innocent always reveals what lies in the hearts of those who behold it.
In a previous article, we noted that the Gospel narrative holds countless parallels not only with modern life but with the human condition in every age. The Gospel is not only about what happened to Christ two thousand years ago – it is also about what happens to us today.
Now it is not Jerusalem but Constantinople; not Pilate’s praetorium but a synodal chamber; not a crowd of Jews but church officials and journalists. And before them stands – again – a man. Not scourged with whips, but lashed by slander.
Suffering amid the indifference of the crowd
The story of Metropolitan Tychikos poses a question that becomes harder and harder to answer: to what extent do we still remain the Body of Christ? How much does our Church still reflect the evangelical ideal, rather than the ideal of an administrative mechanism?
The Apostle Paul said that when one member of the body suffers, all the members suffer with it: “If one member suffers, all suffer together with it… Now you are the body of Christ, and individually members of it” (1 Corinthians 12:26–27). Therefore, we cannot look indifferently upon the suffering of a person who may seem far from us – for we are in the Church. And that means when a pastor suffers, the Church suffers. And it is a dreadful thing when the Church ceases to suffer with him – when the hearts of its members have no room left for compassion, only for bureaucratic decrees that trample upon a Christian’s life.
After the Synod on the Phanar on October 17, when Metropolitan Tychikos was effectively “brought before the people” – with a decision meant to put an end to his case – a new wave of persecution began. On October 23, Greek media spread false reports claiming that he had “fled to Mount Athos.” The message was clear: to portray him as a fugitive defying the Synod’s authority, someone deserving of punishment – not only removal from the Paphos see but even deposition from the priesthood. Journalists cited “reliable sources” allegedly confirming the bishop’s stay on Athos and demanded that he be “found.”
But that same evening, the truth came to light: a video appeared from an Athens hospital. It showed Metropolitan Tychikos in bed, weak and connected to IVs. Next to him was the well-known Greek missionary and priest, Fr. Evangelos Papanikolaou. He explained that the metropolitan had been ill even before his trip to Constantinople, and doctors had forbidden him to travel – but he went out of obedience.
After the Synod, his condition worsened, and, with no direct flight between Cyprus and Constantinople, he was unable to return. He was eventually taken to the hospital. From his hospital bed, Metropolitan Tychikos addressed the faithful with simple words: “May these trials pass, and may better days come for our Church.” And he asked for prayers – nothing more.
It became clear once again how much falsehood fears the truth. Instead of admitting their deceit, many media outlets quietly deleted the “Athos” story. And those who could have easily verified the bishop’s whereabouts – simply by calling him – remained silent. Out of indifference.
When the Church turns into a prosecutor’s office
The next day, the spokesman of the Archdiocese declared that the Synod of Cyprus “had received no information” about Metropolitan Tychikos’s illness. Words that might have sounded like a misunderstanding instead came across as a verdict: “We don’t know where he is or what’s happening to him.” It looked bad – for a Church that shows no concern for the fate of her bishop begins to resemble a bureaucratic institution, where a human being becomes nothing more than a case file and a number.
At the same time, the phrase “we don’t know” sounded like an excuse but was, in fact, a renunciation of responsibility. It is hard to believe that in the 21st century – when a video of the ailing hierarch circulated through every Greek and Cypriot media outlet – anyone in the Archdiocese could truly “know nothing.” It is far more likely that they preferred not to know. The question is – why?
Most likely because the instinct of power took over: when the truth becomes inconvenient, one seeks to distance oneself from it. For if Tychikos is in the hospital, then guilt lies with all who “pecked at him” before the Synod and are now trying to “finish him off.” And no one wants to bear that responsibility.
Later, when the reports of his hospitalization were confirmed, Archbishop Georgios issued a statement expressing concern for the hierarch’s health. He promised help and even offered to cover the cost of treatment. Perhaps the Primate of the Church of Cyprus realized sooner than some of his aides that the situation had gone too far, that the people were displeased, and hastened to mend matters somehow.
Yet even then, an ultimatum was attached – the same one voiced earlier by the spokesman: if Metropolitan Tychikos does not sign a “profession of faith” recognizing the Council of Crete and denouncing those who do not commemorate Patriarch Bartholomew (or other bishops accused of preaching heresy), he may be defrocked. But if he signs, he will receive an apartment and a new see.
This was confirmed by Archbishop Georgios himself: “We expect him to sign a profession of faith recognizing all the Ecumenical Councils, including the Council of Crete, and to disassociate himself in writing from the non-commemorators. Then he will be granted a new see and housing within the Archdiocese… If he refuses, we will be compelled to depose him.”
It would not have sounded so scandalous if the situation did not resemble a marketplace or a bargain. Still more frightening is the Gospel echo it brings: “All these things I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” Only now the offer is not “all things,” but an apartment and a title – and instead of worship, a signature.
At that moment it became clear: the crisis runs far deeper than it first appeared.
The intervention of the Ecumenical Patriarchate
The situation around Metropolitan Tychikos has become a test not only for Cyprus but for the Ecumenical Patriarchate itself.
At the Synod on October 17, according to our sources, not all hierarchs of the Church of Cyprus supported the decision. Some, including such prominent metropolitans as Emmanuel of Chalcedon and Makarios of Australia, openly warned that the persecution of Tychikos would damage the authority of the Phanar itself.
Yes, one may recall that it was Emmanuel who played a decisive role in granting the Tomos to the OCU. Yet even he understands that if the Ecumenical Patriarchate lends its weight to injustice, it will lose what remains of its moral authority and become embroiled in a story from which nothing good can come.
Nevertheless, it seems someone convinced Patriarch Bartholomew that defending Tychikos was unnecessary. Thus the Patriarch found himself drawn into a situation that could easily turn against him. For if something now happens to Tychikos – if the faithful refuse to accept his persecution and continue to support him – resolving the crisis will be far more difficult than it would have been before the Synod of October 17.
Believers are already writing that “Metropolitan Tychikos’s stance on the Council of Crete is not rebellion but confession. His refusal to use the term ‘Church’ for heretical communities continues the tradition of St. Mark of Ephesus.” They are not calling for schism – they love their Church. But they remind us that there is a boundary which must not be crossed, even for the sake of compromise.
This is why they see in Metropolitan Tychikos not a flawless man, but a symbol – one who stood alone against the system and did not cease to be human.
The fate of Metropolitan Tychikos is an examination for all: for the Church of Cyprus – a test of humanity; for the Phanar – a test of wisdom; for the faithful – a test of fidelity to the spirit of the Gospel.
“Wedded” to his flock
And the faithful of Cyprus have not forgotten this. In an appeal published on October 24 in a Viber group numbering nearly two thousand members, they wrote simple but striking words:
“The Metropolitan of Paphos cannot be deprived of his see, because on the day of his ordination he was wedded to it. This is a spiritual union that cannot be broken by human decrees.”
They recalled the example of St. John Chrysostom, unjustly condemned by the “Synod at the Oak,” yet remaining the true bishop in the eyes of God and the people. As they wrote,
“When a deposition is unjust, it has no power before God. Injustice does not destroy grace.”
These are not merely emotional attempts to defend their pastor. They are a reminder that episcopacy in Orthodoxy is not an administrative office but a sacrament – one that cannot be annulled by a bureaucratic order, especially when a man is punished not for violating the canons but for remaining faithful to them.
Here again we see the Gospel image: Christ is united to the Church as a Bridegroom to His Bride. Likewise, when a shepherd is “wedded” to his flock (as the Church’s canons describe it), no unjust decree – much less coercion – can tear them apart.
That is why the faithful now ask an essential question: what shall we be – a community united by Christ, or an institution bound by fear?
Church history will return to this episode more than once. And perhaps one day future theologians will study it not as “the case of Tychikos,” but as a lesson in what happens when inhumanity takes the place of compassion, and a person becomes a bargaining chip in the struggle for power.
And if the Church does not hear the voice of Her people, She risks not hearing the voice of Christ Himself. For He again stands before the crowd – in the person of His suffering servant.
Once more Pilate’s words resound, now addressed to the judges: “Behold the Man.”
