A tireless artisan of the Resurrection of the Autocephalous Orthodox Church of Albania for 33 years, its primate, Archbishop Anastasius—bearing the predestined name—entered for the last time, on Tuesday, January 28, 2025, never to leave, the majestic cathedral he had initiated in the heart of the Albanian capital, which he dedicated to the Resurrection of Christ. He was accompanied and carried by the seven bishops of the Albanian synod, reconstituted by him, and the many priests and deacons he had ordained, all surrounded by a moved and grateful crowd, throwing flowers on his path and upon his open coffin.

To fully grasp the significance of this image, we must revisit the Albania that Bishop Anastasius Janullatos encountered when he arrived in 1991 as Exarch of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. The Patriarchate had tasked him with assessing the situation and laying the foundations for the restoration of the Orthodox Church. For 23 years, Albania—once home to approximately 65% Muslims, 22% Orthodox Christians, and 10% Catholics—held the tragic distinction of being the only country in the world officially declared an 'atheist state' by its constitution, not by law. During this period, all churches and mosques had been destroyed or repurposed for various secular uses, all clergy had been arrested or executed, and those who survived were often forced into other professions. Religious practice was strictly prohibited.

Albania, the last European country to break free from the communist straitjacket—and more specifically, from a totalitarian Stalinist regime that had led the country into isolation and near-famine—only saw the end of anti-religious repression in 1991. Following this, the faithful began to gather in open spaces or in ruined churches, as everything had to be rebuilt.

Armed with little more than two sheets of paper for his archives and a handful of elderly priests who had survived the persecutions, Bishop Anastasius quickly identified promising young men and women to whom he entrusted clerical and other responsibilities. In 1992, he was exceptionally elected by the synod of the Ecumenical Patriarchate to the primatial seat of the Church of Albania—a Church granted autocephaly in 1937 but whose hierarchy had been obliterated by the atheist regime, leaving it unable to propose a candidate for the episcopate.

This urgent request was made to Constantinople by the Orthodox faithful of Albania, who, after a year of experiencing the guidance of Bishop Anastasius, recognized how fortunate they were to have him as a good shepherd. They begged him to remain with them, even as he was preparing to return to his university activities in Athens.

Until the end of his life, however, he endured hostility from various Albanian nationalist politicians and publicists who could not accept that a Greek should lead one of the country's major religious communities. He categorically refused to engage in fruitless polemics, choosing instead to respond through his work. This profoundly humble and peaceful man tirelessly said, 'With the stones they throw at us, we will build churches.' His efforts were particularly focused on establishing a native hierarchy and clergy, a clear demonstration of his commitment to the rebirth of a local Church of Albania. This vision has been miraculously realized today, with Albanian as the liturgical and teaching language, except in a few small peripheral municipalities with national minorities.

Paradoxically, Bishop Anastasius, accused by his Albanian detractors of being a 'Greek agent' serving foreign interests, also faced opposition from certain nationalist circles in Greece. Many in Greece still held the misconception that the Orthodox of Albania were Greek, and Bishop Anastasius had to repeatedly explain that he had not come to Albania as a promoter of Hellenism. While he did extend pastoral care to the few Greek-speaking border and coastal villages, his primary focus was always on his Albanian-speaking faithful, who constituted the vast majority.

For them, he celebrated in Albanian—contrary to some reports—even though he preached in Greek (with translation). While he knew and loved the Albanian language, he did not master it enough to improvise, and his poor eyesight, a result of an illness caught in Africa, prevented him from reading his sermons and speeches.

This work was monumental and can only be fully appreciated by recalling the motto Archbishop Anastasius often repeated: “Let us dare to hope!” Over the course of 33 years, under his direct supervision, 400 churches and chapels were rebuilt or restored. A seminary trained dozens of leaders, many iconographers and artisans revived Albania's rich ecclesiastical artistic tradition, and countless works were published. He, who had been involved in the creation of Syndesmos, the world federation of Orthodox youth, also organized summer youth camps from the early years of his ministry.

He also encouraged the participation of women in the life of the Church and the establishment of circles of Orthodox intellectuals. Undoubtedly, the Church that Bishop Anastasius left as a legacy is in far better condition than the one that was dismantled at the end of the 1960s. It had been served by a parish clergy that was generally poorly educated and, until the early 20th century, was led by Greek prelates who were disconnected from the sociological and linguistic realities of their flock. Later, indigenous bishops were forced into various compromises—first with the political leaders of the new Albanian State, founded in 1912, then with the Italian occupying authorities from 1939, and finally with the communist regime established in 1946. This culminated in the radical measure taken in 1967.

In reference to these pre- and post-war periods (as well as the regrettable examples set by other autocephalous Churches), some, lacking religious understanding, struggled to comprehend that the Archbishop’s Greek nationality was not an obstacle to fulfilling his mission, which he viewed solely from a pastoral perspective.

While honoring the memory of the notable figures of that time (such as Bishop Fan Noli, a prominent figure in the Church, literature, and Albanian diaspora politics, who passed away in Boston in 1965 and made significant contributions to the translation of liturgical texts into Albanian in the early 20th century), Archbishop Anastasius believed that the Church needed to be rebuilt on new, purely religious grounds. His goal was to serve all the Orthodox faithful in Albania, whether ethnic Albanians or not, while avoiding any attempts to engage Albanian communities abroad (in contrast to other autocephalous Churches that see themselves as charged with a pastoral and nationalist mission to their emigrant descendants around the world).

Archbishop Anastasius was among the young theologians in Greece in the 1960s who affirmed that the Orthodox Church had to, on one hand, reconnect with its missionary vocation and, on the other hand, stop living solely for itself by confining itself to a purely religious role.

For over a decade, he put the first of these principles into practice in East Africa (Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania), while the second was realized through his efforts in the struggling Albania he encountered in 1991.

Beyond the reconstruction of churches and the training of clergy—priorities that someone else might also have pursued, though likely with less success—he launched a monumental social initiative that others might not have undertaken. He implemented his vision of a Church that continued 'the liturgy after the liturgy' for the benefit of all, Orthodox and non-Orthodox alike. Through his initiative and with the considerable funds he was able to gather, the Church of Albania established primary, secondary, and higher education institutions, as well as many high-level medical and social services. It carried out public works (such as roads, water supplies, etc.) and contributed to the reception of 900,000 Kosovar refugees in 1999, providing these nearly all-Muslim refugees with a positive and compassionate image of Orthodoxy.

Albanians are rightly proud of their exemplary religious coexistence and the fact that their national identity transcends confessional diversity. Bishop Anastasius (who had completed his solid theological training with a respectful study of other religions, from Islam to Buddhism and African traditions) was fully aligned with this tradition. Among the many tributes offered during his final weeks, when it became clear, due to his age (95 years) and deteriorating health, that he would likely not return from his hospitalization in Athens, we can especially recall the touching message from the interreligious committee, one of the founding members of which he had been. The committee called on the faithful of all denominations to pray for him.

At his national funeral on January 30, the leaders of the Muslim communities (both Sunni and Bektashi) and the entire Catholic episcopate (accompanied by a large Vatican delegation) were, of course, seated in the front row, on one side of the coffin. Meanwhile, the highest authorities of the country, representing various confessions, were positioned on the other side.

Reflecting the image of this polyglot prelate, renowned for both his religious and secular erudition, the funeral orations delivered in his honor were both deeply moving and of exceptional intellectual and spiritual depth. The locum tenens of the archiepiscopal see, Metropolitan Joan of Korça, recalled that, even more than his remarkable edifying work, Bishop Anastasius placed great importance on the attention that each individual deserves, who "would continue to intercede for us and for our Church that he loved so much."

The (Protestant) moderator of the World Council of Churches, to whose work Archbishop Anastasius had actively contributed for decades, and many representatives of whom came to Tirana to pay tribute to him, emphasized that his roots in the Orthodox tradition were paired with “an exceptionally broad horizon” and that “his great spiritual authority” earned him the respect and admiration of all.

Speaking of love—probably one of the words the Archbishop used most frequently during his ministry—a niece who had come from Athens recalled the simplicity of the man he had been within his family. She conveyed, to the spontaneous applause of the audience, the family's gratitude to his “Albanian brothers” for “all the love they had shown him”.

The Greek Prime Minister, who arrived with a large delegation to honor one of the most distinguished sons of his nation, also shared personal memories of this “holy and wise man”, who played a pivotal role in the relations between the two neighboring countries.

The Albanian Prime Minister, in an inspired and widely praised tribute, welcomed the man who had come 'as a Greek priest' but had become 'Anastasius of Albania.' He, more than any foreigner before him, had 'identified' with his second homeland, and at his request, he would rest forever in Albanian soil—in a crypt beneath the cathedral's altar.

The Ecumenical Patriarch, who presided over the ceremony, was surrounded by a large gathering of patriarchs, primates, and representatives of the autocephalous Orthodox Churches. Reflecting on the remarkable life of the deceased, from his birth (having survived a therapeutic abortion that his tubercular mother refused, despite the doctors’ insistence), he lamented that “a great pillar of the Orthodox Church had falle”,  a man committed to the service of its unity. Bishop Anastasius, a firm supporter of the coordinating role of the Ecumenical Patriarchate, had notably played a key role in the pan-Orthodox council convened in Crete in 2016. The Patriarch concluded by greeting his “brother Anastasius” one last time, unable to hide his emotion.

Now, more than ever, one can feel the strength and relevance of the Paschal troparion: “By death He conquered death.” It is because the Church of Albania had died under the blows of the atheist regime (a Church already struggling before the persecutions) that it was resurrected under the leadership of this charismatic prelate, bearing the resurrectional name. In ordinary times, he would not have come to this foreign land. This renaissance is symbolized by the impressive Cathedral of the Resurrection, whose remarkable architecture serves as a hymn to the harmonious fusion of tradition and modernity. It stands as a testimony to the Church's presence in the world. The cathedral’s foundations house the best concert hall in Tirana, which hosts numerous cultural events of high artistic quality. Above all, it symbolizes the victorious affirmation of a vibrant Orthodox Church—once deemed moribund in the 1930s and 1960s, and nearly eradicated two decades later—an essential pillar of both Albanian society and the universal Orthodox Church. For the second time, following the cathedral’s consecration in 2012, Tirana became the capital for the funeral of Archbishop Anastasius.