17/05/2026
Defending the Ancient Faith: An Orthodox Response to the Knechtle Debate
By: Evangelos Nikitopoulos
Like most people, I first heard of Deacon Mihret Melaku in April of 2025, when a viral video of him confronting the Protestant influencers Cliffe and Stuart Knechtle at Harvard University circulated on the internet. Such was its reach at the time that even my bishop, a usually reserved and ascetic personality, the last person you would expect to be aware of online trends, referred to it in one of his sermons. My immediate impression was that Mihret made a very strong case for the traditional Christian understanding of the Eucharist and salvation, but more than that, his calm demeanor exemplified what true Christian apologetics should look like: he was not overly aggressive or polemical, nor did he seek to shame or “own” his opponents, as often happens in such forums; he simply stated the truth of the Church and let Scripture speak for itself. Beyond the logical arguments he provided, it was his peaceful manner that seemed to disarm his interlocutors the most, and it was evident from their uneasy and flippant responses that they had never interacted with someone coming from his particular Christian tradition.
It is said that our times are witnessing a religious revival. The years of the Covid pandemic, with its continual lockdowns and uncertainty, did much to destabilize society and existing institutions and relationships, but it also ignited—at least in some—a yearning to seek after abiding and unchanging truths. The fact that this particular clip gained so much traction is an indication that Mihret struck an authentic chord within our current zeitgeist. As such, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the Knechtle debate had served as a catalyst for him to produce a full-length book addressing in greater detail the differences between Protestantism and Orthodox Christianity.
The volume is not a quick read, spanning a total of 382 pages. The reader will have many occasions to pause and ponder its contents, look up cross-references in the Bible, and take notes. There are twelve chapters covering (1) the origin of the Christian scriptural canon, (2) the relation between Scripture and liturgy, (3) the Church as a normative interpretative authority, (4) the intercession of the saints, (5) the veneration of the saints, (6) the veneration of icons, (7) Mariology, (8) atonement, (9) salvation, (10) baptism, (11) the Eucharist, and (12) Apostolic succession. The themes are judiciously chosen, and there is a logic to the progression of the chapters (although it might have made more sense to have had Chapter 12 follow immediately upon Chapter 3).
Each chapter adheres more or less to the same format: the author begins by outlining the Protestant theological position on the topic at hand before explaining why it is erroneous, drawing on the Old Testament, Second Temple Judaism, the New Testament, the Apostolic Fathers, and even archaeology when relevant. Mihret’s arguments are, for the most part, not novel in themselves, but he often gives them an original spin. Typology forms the cornerstone of his apologetic, and the book of Revelation constitutes one of his favorite proof texts.
For instance, it was the first time I saw someone connect the 24 elders in Saint John’s apocalyptic vision (Rev 4:10; 5:8; 11:16) with the notion that the saints make up for the fallen “third” of the “number of the angels of God” (mentioned in Deuteronomy 32:8), which was traditionally interpreted as being 72 (72/3 = 24). Due to this correspondence, Mihret argues that Christian saints currently hold the same standing in relation to God as the fallen angels did before they trespassed, that is, a position of relative honor, reflecting the divine majesty as “gods” in their own right (Psalm 81/82:1). It is therefore entirely appropriate to ask for their intercession and show them respect. The fact that some of the bystanders at the Crucifixion who heard Christ crying out “Eli, Eli” immediately assumed that He was calling out to the Prophet Elijah (Matt 27:47; Mark 15:35-36) corroborates that Second Temple Jews believed that the saintly dead could be invoked and actively engage with the world of the living (cf. 2 Macc 15:13-16).
Mihret’s strength undoubtedly lies in exegeting Scripture (albeit some of his interpretations, particularly those of Leviticus 16:8 and Romans 3:22, are a bit too speculative for my taste). My favorite parts of the book were his explications of the “seat of Moses” (Matt 23:2) in Chapter 3—in which he convincingly demonstrates that Christ vested the interpretative authority of the Scriptures in His Apostles, in continuity with the authority of the Mosaic priesthood—and the theology of baptism in Chapter 10, in which he establishes on the basis of Old and New Testament passages (e.g. Ezekiel 47:8-12 and Matt 4:19) that early Christians believed baptism to be not merely symbolic, but generative of a real ontological change within the believer.
In my opinion, the book is worth reading for Chapter 7 alone, which covers the Virgin Mary. Basing himself on Scripture and in particular on Saint Jerome’s Against Helvidius, Mihret systematically dismantles the blasphemous belief that is sadly widespread among modern Evangelicals which holds that the Virgin Mary bore other children after Christ (something neither Luther, Calvin, or Zwingli believed). He also explains why it is entirely in keeping with the Bible—and actually necessary for any “Bible-believing Christian”—to honor her highly.
The author does not shy away even from citing early Jewish traditions recorded in the Talmud when it serves his argument, e.g. when it comes to proving the celibacy of the Prophet Moses. In the chapter on the Eucharist, he quotes several ancient anaphoras preserved in Ethiopic to highlight Old Testament antecedents to the blessed sacrament. The chapter on iconodulia is well-constructed. Nevertheless, in my humble experience debating this question, I do not think that pointing out Scriptural typologies and the existence of frescoes in the Roman catacombs is enough to convince a hardened iconoclast. The latter will always fall back upon saying that the early Christians had images, but they did not pray to them. Proving this is possible, but it requires a much more nuanced argumentation that goes beyond the scope of Mihret’s book. For a more specialized study on the topic, I would direct the interested reader to Michael Garten’s recent publication Early Icons: Christian Image Veneration Before 325 AD, which I think establishes a whole new paradigm for the field.
It was refreshing to see that the bibliography of Defending the Ancient Faith is a cut above what one usually gets in common works of apologetics. The numerous references to academic journals show that the author has availed himself of the full resources of Harvard’s library. Mihret also does a good job at avoiding straw-manning the Reformers, frequently quoting Luther or Calvin in their own words alongside contemporary Protestant theologians like R.C. Sproul. His short discussion on pages 326 and 327 regarding how the more radical Reformers denied the communicatio idiomatum (the sharing of properties between Christ’s divine and human natures), exposing a quasi-Nestorian bent, is excellent, and reflects the current scholarly understanding (see e.g., K.J. Drake’s 2021 monograph The Flesh of the Word: The extra Calvinisticum from Zwingli to Early Orthodoxy). This strikes, I believe, at the very heart of the problem with Protestant theology, which is its radical denial that matter can be sanctified.
If there is one aspect of the book that I found lacking, it would be the topic of the atonement. Mihret writes on page 100: “To ‘put on Christ’…in the Orthodox tradition…is not reduced to a legal or external substitution, as though Christ were righteous so that we could remain unrighteous. Christ became what we are not to replace us, but to transfigure us.” While it is true that Orthodoxy does not reduce the atonement to a mere legal transaction, this does not take away from the fact that Christ truly died in our place on the Cross. It is precisely for this reason that Christ cries out, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me!” (Matt 27:56; Mark 15:34). In saying these words, Christ was expressing the profound alienation which He experienced from God in His humanity, the alienation which is the lot of all sinners. By assuming this in our stead, He frees us from God’s just condemnation and makes our sanctification possible. Just like faith needs to be expressed by works, so can sanctification not occur without the atonement: both are indispensable and inseparable parts of God’s divine economy.
A similar one-sidedness can be detected in the author’s treatment of original sin. He writes on page 245: “The Orthodox understanding of original sin is based not on a transmission of guilt, but on the effects of sin on the cosmos.” Once again, the truth is that Orthodoxy believes in both. Sin most certainly does distort the cosmos, but the mystery of our faith teaches us that it is also transmitted genetically from our parents. This is why we baptize infants “for the remission of sins” as it says in the Creed (and not “for the remission of corruption”). What sins has an infant committed at its age? And while we do not believe that we are responsible for the personal sin of Adam (on this question, see Saint Augustine in Against Julian III.23), the Fathers frequently speak of how all of humanity was condemned “in Adam.”
For example, Saint Ambrose says: “In Adam I fell, in Adam I was cast out of Paradise, in Adam I died. How should God restore me, unless He find Adam in me, so that just as I am subject to guilt (culpae obnoxium) and destined to death in him, so am I justified in Christ?” (On the Death of his Brother Satyrus, II.6). According to Saint Cyril, “the whole nature of man was condemned (ܡܬܚܝܒ) in the person of him who was first formed; but now it is wholly justified again in Christ” (Sermon 42 on Luke, preserved fully in a Syriac translation). On page 248, Mihret goes so far as to cite Theodore of Mopsuestia to argue that Orthodoxy rejects the notion of original sin. I concede here that his reading of Theodore is correct, but that is only because Theodore was a Pelagian, and not an Orthodox Father!
There is much in Chapters 8 and 9 that is otherwise sound; I bring up these specific points only as a friendly correction offered in the spirit of charity. I personally believe that the best way to win over people to the truth is not by emphasizing only one half of a rich theological tradition, but by presenting Orthodox doctrine in its fulness.
While we are on this subject, I should also mention that the author will often use the term “Orthodox” without qualification to refer to individuals of both Chalcedonian and non-Chalcedonian persuasion. To the uninitiated reader, this might create the impression that all the “Orthodox” authors that are cited as such in the book are part of one and the same Church, but the reality is that the Ethiopian church of which Deacon Mihret is a member is not in communion with the Orthodox churches with which Westerners are most typically familiar (Greek, Russian, etc.). This should be clarified for the readership, as it accounts for the author’s use of certain peculiar theological expressions, such as “theanthropic nature” (p. 97) and “one composite nature of Emmanuel” (p. 281), which we would reject as theologically problematic (for the same reason, incidentally, that Deacon Mihret rejects the Protestant notion of “one energy” operating in man’s salvation: if there is but “one nature” in Christ, our human nature cannot be deified; it will either be replaced or absorbed by the divinity. Consequently, Christ must possess two natures and two natural wills in perfect harmony).
These failings notwithstanding, I would like to congratulate the Deacon on his accomplishment and I heartily encourage all Christians to buy this book. As far as I am aware, besides Fr. Josiah Trenham’s now-classic Rock and Sand, which has a slightly different focus, there are no other full-length books in English explaining the differences between Orthodox Christianity and Protestantism in the comprehensive way that Mihret does. Thus, Defending the Ancient Faith will both appeal to neophytes seeking instruction in their faith and will present more advanced readers with fertile material for reflection. As we are still in the Nativity season, let me conclude by saying: Christ is Born, let us glorify Him!
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Editorial Note:
Unlike most people, I first heard of Mihret Melaku when he was about nine years old. Four years before he published his first book, an out-of-print exhortation on repentance, and he was already a prodigy then. At nine or ten I heard him recite, by heart, the Prayer of Faith (Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed) in Ge’ez, Amharic, and English. Evangelos Nikitopoulos, a Greek Orthodox publisher of patristics, writes a review of Dcn. Mihret’s second book Defending the Ancient Faith: an Orthodox Response to the Knechtle Debate below.
The Greek Orthodox and the Syriac Orthodox, though of different communions, are on the same New Calendar, and have thus already celebrated the twelve days of Christmas including Theophany (The Baptism of the Lord Jesus). Slavs, who commune with Greeks, and afroasiatics (habesha and copts), who commune with Syriac, are aligned on the Old Calendar, having celebrated Christmas eve on January 6th (an auspicious occasion), Christmas on January 7th, and preparing to celebrate Theophany on January 19th (Dr. MLK Jr. Day in America). Blessed feasts! Since we cannot commune together, yet, I am of the mind that online collaborations like these please the Lord of Spirits.
Keep me in your prayers to complete the audiobook.