G. Florovsky, Aspects of Church History (Collected Works, Vol. 4) (Nordland Publishing Company 1975)

ASPECTS OF CHURCH HISTORY
ASPECTS
OF
CHURCH HISTORY
VOLUME FOUR
in the Collected "Works
of
GEORGES FLOROVSKY
Emeritus Professor of Eastern Church History
Harvard University
NORDLAND PUBLISHING COMPANY
BELMONT, MASSACHUSETTS 02178
MAJOR WORKS BY GEORGES FLOROVSKY
The Eastern Fathers of the Fourth Century (in Russian)
The Byzantine Fathers from the Fifth to the Eighth Century (in Russian)
The Ways of Russian Theology (in Russian)
Bible, Church, Tradition: An Eastern Orthodox View (Vol. I in The Collected
Works)
Christianity and Culture (Vol. II in The Collected Works)
Creation and Redemption (Vol. Ill in The Collected Works)
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 74-22862
ISBN 0-913124-10-9
J) Copyright 1975 by NORD LAND PUBLISHING COMPANY
All Rights Reserved
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
About the Author
Born in Odessa in 1893, Father Georges Florovsky was
Assistant Professor at the University of Odessa in 1919.
Having left Russia, Fr. Florovsky taught philosophy in
Prague from 1922 until 1926. He was then invited to the
chair of Patrology at St. Sergius' Orthodox Theological
Institute in Paris.
In 1948 Fr. Florovsky came to the United States. He
was Professor and Dean of St. Vladimir's Theological
School until 1955, while also teaching as Adjunct Profes-
sor at Columbia University and Union Theological Seminary.
From 1956 until 1964 Fr. Florovsky held the chair of
Eastern Church History at Harvard University. Since 1964
he has taught Slavic studies and history at Princeton Uni-
versity.
Fr. Georges Florovsky, Emeritus Professor of Eastern
Church History at Harvard University and recipient of
numerous honorary degrees, is a member of the American
Academy of Arts and Sciences.
About The Collected Works of Fr. Florovsky
The Collected Works of Fr. Georges Florovsky will be published in
English and will contain his articles in Slavic studies as well as in Church
History and Theology which have previously appeared in Russian, German,
French, Bulgarian, Czech, Serbian, Swedish and English. Each volume will
be arranged thematically. Included in the Collected Works will be his two
major works on the Church Fathers {The Eastern Fathers of the Fourth
Century and The Byzantine Fathers from the Fifth to the Eighth Century).
The last volume of The Collected Works will contain an Index to the entire
corpus.
Table of Contents
I ASPECTS OF PATRISTIC THOUGHT AND HISTORY
Patristic Theology and the Ethos of
the Orthodox Church
The Fathers of the Church and the Old Testament
St. Athanasius' Concept of Creation
The Patristic Age and Eschatology:
An Introduction
St. John Chrysostom: The Prophet of Charity
The Anthropomorphites in the Egyptian Desert
Theophilus of Alexandria and Apa Aphou of Pemdje
The Hagia Sophia Churches
II ASPECTS OF RUSSIAN CHURCH HISTORY
11
31
39
63
79
89
97
131
Russian Missions: An Historical Sketch 139
Western Influences in Russian Theology 157
The Ways of Russian Theology 183
III NINETEENTH CENTURY ECUMENISM
Orthodox Ecumenism in the Nineteenth Century 213
IV NOTES AND REFERENCES
Patristic Theology and the Ethos of
the Orthodox Church 281
St. Athanasius' Concept of Creation 283
An Introduction 286
The Anthropomorphites in the Egyptian Desert 289
Theophilus of Alexandria and Apa Aphou of Pemdje 290
Orthodox Ecumenism in the Nineteenth Century 300
I
ASPECTS OF PATRISTIC
THOUGHT AND HISTORY
Patristic Theology and The Ethos
of the Orthodox Church
I
N 1872 WILHELM GASS published his Symbolik der
Griechischen Kirche. Gass was an expert scholar, es-
pecially competent in the field of Byzantine studies. His
monographs, Gennadius und Pletho (Breslau 1844) and Die
Mystik des Nikolaus Kabasilas (Greifswld 1849), were
notable contributions to the study of late Byzantine theology,
little known at that time. His Symbolik also was an able
book, well written and well documented. Yet, a problem of
method was involved in his exposition. It was at this methodo-
logical point that Gass was strongly challenged by another
distinguished German scholar, Ferdinand Kattenbusch.
1
In fact, Gass based his exposition of Greek doctrine,
mainly and deliberately, on the alleged "symbolic books"
of the Eastern Church, in particular on Peter Mogila's Ortho-
dox Confession (in its revised Greek version) and the
Decrees of the Jerusalem Council of 1672. Now, Kattenbusch
contested the adequacy of such an approach. In his opinion, the
This article originally appeared as "The Ethos of the Orthodox Church"
in The Ecumenical Review, Vol. XII, No. 2 (Geneva, I960), pp. 183-198.
It was a paper presented to the Faith and Order Orthodox Consultation in
Kifissia, Greece, August 16-18, 1959. Reprinted by permission of the author.
11
12 Aspe as of Church History
so-called "symbolic books" of the Eastern Church could not
be regarded as an authentic source. They were not spontaneous
expressions of the Orthodox faith. They were occasional
polemical writings addressed primarily to the problems of
Western controversy, between Rome and the Reformation, in
which the Christian East was not intrinsically involved. The
XVIIth century was not, Kattenbusch contended, a crative
t
epoch in the history of the Eastern Church. In order to grasp
the genuine spirit of the Orthodox Church one had, according
to Kattenbusch, to go back to that crucial epochdie
Grndungsepoche, when the distinctive Greek tradition in
1
theology and worship had been formed; that is, to the period
of great Christological controversies in the Ancient Church.
Iri order to understand the Orthodox Church, at her very
heart, one had to turn to the fathers, to St. Athanasius, the
Cappadocians, and indeed to Pseudo-Dionysius, rather than
to Mogila or Dositheos. Moreover, one could properly under-
stand the Orthodox tradition only out of its own central
vision. Kattenbusch rightly stressed the centrality of the
Christological vision in the total structure of the Greek
theological system: der Inbegriff aller Themata. It was this
synthetic or comprehensive method that Kattenbusch used in
his own exposition of Eastern Orthodoxy, some years later.
2
Kattenbusch was right. The alleged "symbolic books" of
the Orthodox Church have no binding authority, as much as
they might have been used by particular theologians and at
particular times. Their authority is subordinate and derived.
In any case, they have no authority by themselves, but only
m so far as they are in agreement with the continuous tradi-
tion of the Churchy And at certain points they betray an
obvious Western influence. This influence was characteristic
of certain stages in the history of modern Orthodox theology,
but in no sense is it characteristic of the Orthodox Church
herself. We may quote at this point an apt statement by the
late Professor Nicholas Glubokovsky. "As a matter of fact,
Orthodoxy has no 'symbolic books' in the technical sense of
Patristic Theology and the Ethos of the Orthodox Church 13
the word. All the talk about them is extremely conditional
and conformable only to the Western Confessional schemes,
in opposition to the nature and history of Orthodoxy. It con-
siders itself the right or authentic teaching of Christ in all
its primitiveness and incorruptibility; but thenwhat parti-
cular distinguishing doctrine can it have except that of the
Gospel of Christ ? The Orthodox Church herself down to the
present time does not make use of any special 'symbolical
books', being satisfied with the general traditional documents
which have the character of defining the faith/'
8
Gass was not impressed by the arguments of Kattenbusch.
His reply was firm and sharp. There was no "Greek Church"
in Ancient times: damals noch gar keine Griechische Kirche
gaby d.h., keine Griechische Separatkirche. The Fathers of the
Church, in Gass's opinion, were quite irrelevant for the under-
standing of contemporary Orthodoxy. For Gass, the modern
Greek Church was not identical with the Ancient Church:
she has widely departed or deviated from the early founda-
tions. Gass made this point quite emphatically in his Symbolik.
Indeed, Kattenbusch also spoke of the Griechische Partikular-
kirche. But with him it was rather a statement of fact. In
his opinion, all the distinctive marks of this Partikularkirche
were established already in the age of Chalcedon and Justin-
ian. Certain distinctive, but not necessarily divisive, features
had developed in the East and in the West already in the
early centuries of Christian history, and one speaks legitimately
of "particular" traditions: Eastern and Western, Carthaginian
and Roman, Alexandrinian and Antiochene. In any case,
since the final break with Rome, the "Greek Church"
actually existed as a Partikularkirche, just as did the "Roman
Church." But Gass went much further. In his view, the
modern Eastern Church, and probably already the Byzantine,
was actually a "new church," a new "denominational" forma-
tion, separated from the ancient Church by a long and com-
plex process of decay and deviation. In other words, she was
just a particular "denomination," among others, and had to
14 Aspects of Church History
be characterized as such. For this task only the modern
"symbolic books" were relevant.
4
The Auseinandersetzung between Gass and Kattenbusch
was much more than just an episode in the history of modern
scholarship.
5
Nor was their disagreement simply methodo-
logical. Again, Gass was not alone in his approach. It is
still typical of Western scholarship, both Roman and Pro-
testant, to characterize Orthodoxy on the basis of modern
and contemporary documents, without clear discrimination
between authoritative statements and writings of individual
authors, and without any proper historical perspective. It is
enough to mention the various studies of such authors as M.
Jugie and Th. Spacil. It is logical from the Roman point of
view: the Orthodox Church, as a "schism," must have her
distinctive, schismatic features, and cannot be "identical"
with the Catholic Church of old, even in her Eastern version.
The ultimate question is, therefore, theological. Is the con-
temporary Orthodox Church the same church, as in the age
of the Fathers, as has been always claimed and contended by
the Orthodox themselves ? Is she a legitimate continuation of
that ancient Church ? Or is she no more than a new Separat-
kirche? This dilemma is of decisive relevance for the con-
temporary ecumenical conversation, especially between the
Protestants and the Orthodox. Indeed, the Orthodox are
bound to claim that the only "specific" or "distinctive"
feature about their own position in "divided Christendom"
is the fact that the Orthodox Church is essentially identical
with the Church of all ages, and indeed with the "Early
Church," die Urkirche. In other words, she is not a Church,
but the Church. It is a formidable, but fair and just claim.
There is here more than just an unbroken historic continuity,
which is indeed quite obvious. There is above all an ultimate
spiritual and ontological identity, the same faith, the same
spirit, the same ethos. And this constitutes the distinctive
mark of Orthodoxy. "This is the Apostolic faith, this is the
faith of the Fathers, this is the Orthodox faith, this faith has
established the universe."
II
Following the Holy Fathers... It was usual in the Ancient
Church to introduce doctrinal statements by phrases like this.
The great Decree of Chalcedon begins precisely with these
very words. The Seventh Ecumenical Council introduces its
decision concerning the Holy Icons even in a more explicit
and elaborate way: following the Divinely inspired teaching
of our Holy Fathers and the tradition of the Catholic Church
(Denzinger 302). Obviously, it was more than just an appeal
to "antiquity." Indeed, the Church always stresses the identity
of her faith throughout the ages. This identity and perma-
nence, from Apostolic times, is indeed the most conspicuous
token and sign of right faith. In the famous phrase of Vincent
of Lrins, in ipsa item catholica ecclesia magnopere curandum
est ut id teneamus quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab
omnibus creditum est (Commonitorium . 2.3). However,
"antiquity" by itself is not yet an adequate proof of the true
faith. Archaic formulas can be utterly misleading. Vincent
himself was well aware of that. Old customs as such do not
guarantee the truth. As St. Cyprian put it, antiquitas sine
veritate vetustas errons est {Epist. 74). And again: Dominus,
Ego sum, inquit, veritas. Non dixit, Ego sum consuetudo
(Sententiae episcoporum numro 87, c. 30). The true tradi-
tion is only the tradition of truth, traditio veritatis. And this
"true tradition," according to St. Irenaeus, is grounded in, and
guaranteed by, that charisma veritatis certum, which has been
deposited from the very beginning in the Church and preserved
in the uninterrupted succession of Apostolic ministry: qui
cum episcopatus successione charisma veritatis certum ac-
ceperunt {Adv. haereses IV. 40. 2). Thus, "tradition" in the
Church is not merely the continuity of human memory, or
the permanence of rites and habits. Ultimately, "tradition" is
the continuity of divine assistance, the abiding presence
of the Holy Spirit. The Church is not bound by "the letter/'
She is constantly moved forth by "the spirit." The same
Spirit, the Spirit of Truth, which '"spake through the Proph-
ets/' which guided the Apostles, which illumined the Evan-
gelists, is still abiding in the Church, and guides her into
the fuller understanding of the divine truth, from glory to
glory.
Following the Holy Fathers. .. It is not a reference to
abstract tradition, to formulas and propositions. It is pri-
marily an appeal to persons, to holy witnesses. The witness of
the Fathers belongs, integrally and intrinsically, to the very
structure of the Orthodox faith. The Church is equally com-
mitted to the kerygma of the Apostles and to the dogmata
of the Fathers. Both belong together inseparably. The Church
is indeed "Apostolic." But the Church is also "Patristic."
And only by being "Patristic" is the Church continuously
"Apostolic",The Fathers testify to the Apostolicity of the
tradition. There are two basic stages in the proclamation
of the Christian faith. Our simple faith had to acquire com-
position. There was an inner urge, an inner logic, an internal
necessity, in this transitionfrom kerygma to dogma.
Indeed, the dogmata of the Fathers are essentially the same
"simple" kerygma
f
which had been once delivered and
deposited by the Apostles, once, for ever. But now it is
this very kerygmaproperly articulated and developed into
a consistent body of correlated testimonies. The apostolic
preaching is not only kept in the Church: it lives in the
Church, as a depositum juvenesceris, in the phrase Of St.
Irenaeus. In this sense, the teaching of the Fathers is a
permanent category of Christian faith, a constant and ultimate
measure or criterion of right belief. In this sense, again,
Fathers are not merely witnesses of the old faith, testes anti-
quitatis, but, above all and primarily, witnesses of the true
faith, testes veritatis, Accordingly, our contemporary appeal
to the Fathers is much more than a historical referenceto
the past. "The mind of the Fathers" is an intrinsic term of
reference in Orthodox theology, no less than the word of
the Holy Writ, and indeed never separated from it. The
Fathers themselves were always servants of the Word, and
their theology was intrinsically exegetical. Thus, as has been
well said recently, "the Catholic Church of all ages is not
merely a child of the Church of the Fathers, but she is and
remains the Church of the Fathers."
6
The main distinctive mark of Patristic theology was its
"existential" character. The Fathers theologized, as St. Gre-
gory of Nazianzus put it, "in the manner of the Apostles,
and not in that of Aristotle," -
{Horn. XXIII. 12). Their teaching was still a "mes-
sage," a kerygma. Their theology was still a "kerygmatic
theology," even when it was logically arranged and cor-
roborated by intellectual arguments. The ultimate reference
was still to faith, to spiritual comprehension. It is enough
to mention in this connection the names of St. Athanasius,
St. Gregory of Nazianzus, St. Maximus the Confessor. Their
theology was a witness. Apart from the life in Christ theology
carries no conviction, and, if separated from the life of faith,
theology may easily degenerate into empty dialectics, a vain
polylogia, without any spiritual consequence. Patristic the-
ology was rooted in the decisive commitment of faith. It
was not just a self-explanatory "discipline," which could be
presented argumentatively, i.e., , without a
prior spiritual engagement. This theology could only be
"preached," or "proclaimed," and not be simply "taught"
in a school-manner; "preached" from the pulpit, proclaimed
also in the word of prayer and in sacred rites, and indeed
manifested in the total structure of Christian life. Theology
of this kind can never be separated from the life of prayer
and from the practice of virtue. "The climax of purity is
the beginning of theology," in the phrase of St. John
Klimakos (Scala Paradis?, grade 30). On the other hand,
theology is always, as it were, no more than "propaideutic,"
since its ultimate aim and purpose are to bear witness to the
Mystery of the Living God, in word and in deed. "Theology"
is not an aim in itself. It is always but a way. Theology
presents no more than an "intellectual contour" of the
revealed truth, a "noetic" testimony to it. Only in an act of
faith is this contour filled with living content. Yet, the
'contour" is also indispensable. Christological formulas are
actually meaningful only for the faithful, for those who have
encountered the Living Christ, and have acknowledged Him
as God and Saviour, for those who are dwelling by faith in
Him, in His Body, the Church. In this sense, theology is
never a self-explanatory discipline. It appeals constantly to the
vision of faith. "What we have seen and have heard, we
announce to you." Apart from this "announcement" theo-
logical formularies are of no consequence. For the same
reason these formulas should never be taken out of their
spiritual context. It is utterly misleading to single out certain
propositions, dogmatic or doctrinal, and to abstract them from
the total perspective in which only they are meaningful and
valid. It is a dangerous habit just to handle "quotations,"
from the Fathers and even from the Scripture, outside of the
total structure of faith, in which only they are truly alive.
"To follow the Fathers" does not mean simply to quote their
sentences. It means to acquire their mind, their .
The Orthodox Church claims to have preserved this mind
[] and to have theologized ad ment em Patrum.
At this very point a major doubt may be raised. The
name of "Church Fathers" is normally restricted to the
teachers of the Ancient Church. And it is currently assumed
that their authority, if recognized at all, depended upon their
"antiquity," i.e., upon their comparative chronological near-
ness to the "Primitive Church," to the initial or Apostolic
"Age" of Christian history. Now, already St. Jerome felt
himself constrained to contest this contention: the Spirit
breathes indeed in all ages. Indeed^ there was no decrease
in "authority," and no decrease in the immediacy of spiritual
knowledge, in the course of Church History-of course,
always under the control of the primary witness and revela-
tion. Unfortunately, the scheme of "decrease," if not of a
flagrant "decay," has become one of the habitual schemes of
historical thinking. It is widely assumed, consciously or sub-
consciously, that the early Church was, as it were, closer to
the spring of truth. In the order of time, of course, it is obvious
and true. But does it mean that the Early Church actually
knew and understood the mystery of the Revelation, as it were,
"better" and "fuller" than all subsequent ages, so that
nothing but "repetition" has been left to the "ages to come" ?
Indeed, as an admission of our own inadequacy and failure,
as an act of humble self-criticism, an exaltation of the past
may be sound and healthy. But it is dangerous to make of it
the starting point of our theology of Church History, or even
of our theology of the Church. It is widely assumed that
the "age of the Fathers" had ended, and accordingly should
be regarded simply as an "ancient formation," archaic and
obsolete. The limit of the "patristic age" is variously defined.
It is usual to regard St. John of Damascus as "the last Father"
in the East, and St. Gregory the Great or Isidor of Seville
as the last in the West. This habit has been challenged more
than once. For instance, should not St. Theodore of Studium
be counted among the Fathers ? In the West, already Mabillon
suggested that Bernard of Clairvaux, the Doctor Mellifluus,
was actually "the last of the Fathers, and surely not unequal
to the earlier ones."
7
On the other hand, it can be contended
that "the Age of the Fathers" has actually come to its end
much earlier than even St. John of Damascus. It is enough
simply to recall the famous formula of the Consensus
quinquesaecularis which restricted the "authoritative" period
of Church History actually to the period up to Chalcedon.
Indeed, it was a Protestant formula. But the usual Eastern
formula of "Seven Ecumenical Councils" is actually not very
much better, when it tends, as it currently does, to restrict
the Church's spiritual authority to the eight centuries, as if the
"Golden Age" of the Church had already passed and we are
now dwelling probably in an Iron Age, much lower on the
scale of spiritual vigor and authority. Psychologically, this
attitude is quite comprehensible, but it cannot be theologically
justified. Indeed, the Fathers of the Fourth and Fifth centuries
are much more impressive than the later ones, and their
unique greatness cannot be questioned. Yet, the Church re-
mained fully alive also after Chalcedon. And, in fact, an
overemphasis on the "first five centuries" dangerously distorts
theological vision and prevents the right understanding of
the Chalcedonian dogma itself. The decree of the Sixth Ecu-
menical Council then is regarded just as a kind of "appendix"
to Chalcedon, and the decisive theological contribution of St.
Maximus the Confessor is usually completely overlooked. An
overemphasis on the "eight centuries" inevitably obscures the
legacy of Byzantium. There is still a strong tendency to treat
"Byzantinism" as an inferior sequel, or even as a decadent
epilogue, to the patristic age. Probably, we are prepared, now
more than before, to admit the authority of the Fathers. But
"Byzantine theologians" are not yet counted among the
Fathers. In fact, however, Byzantine theology was much more
than a servile "repetition" of Patristics. It was an organic
continuation of the patristic endeavor. It suffices to mention
St. Symeon the New Theologian, in the Eleventh century,
and St. Gregory Palamas, in the Fourteenth. A restrictive
commitment of the Seven Ecumenical Councils actually con-
tradicts the basic principle of the Living Tradition in the
Church. Indeed, all Seven. But not only the Seven.
The Seventeenth century was a critical age in the history
of Eastern theology. The teaching of theology had deviated
at that time from the traditional patristic pattern and had
undergone influence from the West. Theological habits and
schemes were borrowed from the West, rather eclectically,
both from the late Roman Scholasticism of Post-Tridentine
times and from the various theologies of the Reformation.
These borrowings affected heavily the theology of the alleged
"Symbolic books" of the Eastern Church, which cannot be
regarded as an authentic voice of the Christian East. The
style of theology has been changed. Yet, this did not imply
any change in doctrine. It was, indeed, a sore and ambiguous
Pseudomorphosis of Eastern theology, which is not yet over-
come even in our own time. This Pseudomorphosis actually
meant a certain split in the soul of the East, to borrow one
of the favorite phrases of Arnold Toynbee. Indeed, in the
life of the Church the tradition of the Fathers has never been
interrupted. The whole structure of Eastern Liturgy, in an
inclusive sense of the word, is still thoroughly patristic. The
life of prayer and meditation still follows the old pattern.
The Philokalia, that famous encyclopaedia of Eastern piety
and asceticism, which includes writings of many centuries,
from St. Anthony of Egypt up to the Hesychasts of the
Fourteenth century, is increasingly becoming the manual of
guidance for all those who are eager to practice Orthodoxy
in our own time. The authority of its compiler St. Nicodemus
of the Holy Mount, has been recently re-emphasized and
reinforced by his formal canonization in the Greek Church.
In this sense, it can be contended, "the age of the Fathers"
still continues alive in the ''Worshiping Church." Should it
not continue also in the schools, in the field of theological
research and instruction? Should we not recover "the mind
of the Fathers" also in our theological thinking and con-
fession? "Recover," indeed, not as an archaic pose and habit,
and not just as a venerable relic, but as an existential attitude,
as a spiritual orientation. Actually, we are already living in
an age of revival and restoration. Yet it is not enough to
keep a "Byzantine Liturgy," to restore a "Byzantine style"
in Iconography and Church architecture, to practice Byzantine
modes of prayer and self-discipline. One has to go back to
the very roots of this traditional "piety" which has been
always cherished as a holy inheritance. One has to recover
the patristic mind. Otherwise one will be still in danger
of being internally splitbetween the "traditional" pattern
of "piety" and the un-traditional pattern of mind. As "wor-
shipers," the Orthodox have always stayed in the "tradition
of the Fathers." They must stand in the same tradition also
as "theologians." In no other way can the integrity of Ortho-
dox existence be retained and secured.
It is enough, in this connection, to refer to the discus-
sions at the Congress of Orthodox theologians, held in Athens
at the end of the year 1936. It was a representative gathering:
eight theological faculties, in six different countries, were
represented. Two major problems were conspicuous on the
agenda: first, the "External influences on Orthodox Theology
since the Fall of Constantinople"; secondly, the Authority of
the Fathers. The fact of Western accretions has been frankly
acknowledged and thoroughly analyzed. On the other hand,
the authority of the Fathers has been re-emphasized and a
"return to the Fathers" advocated and approved. Indeed, it
must be a creative return. An element of self-criticism must
be therein implied. This brings us to the concept of a
Neopatristic synthesis, as the task and aim of Orthodox
theology today. The Legacy of the Fathers is a challenge for
our generation, in the Orthodox Church and outside of it.
Its recreative power has been increasingly recognized and
acknowledged in these recent decades, in various corners of
divided Christendom. The growing appeal of patristic tradi-
tion is one of the most distinctive marks of our time. For
the Orthodox this appeal is of special urgency and importance,
because the total tradition of Orthodoxy has always been
patristic. One has to reassess both the problems and the
answers of the Fathers. In this study the vitality of patristic
thought, and its perennial timeliness, will come to the fore.
Inexhaustum est penu Patrum, has well said Louis Thomassin,
a French Oratorian of the Seventeenth century and one of
the distinguished patristic scholars of his time.
8
III
The synthesis must begin with the central vision of the
Christian faith: Christ Jesus, as God and Redeemer, Humili-
ated and Glorified, the Victim and the Victor on the Cross.
' 'Christians apprehend first the Person of Christ the Lord,
the Son of God Incarnate, and behind the veil of His flesh
they behold the Triune God/* This phrase of Bishop Theo-
phanes, the great master of spiritual life in Russia in the
last century, may serve appropriately as an epigraph to the
new section of our present survey.
Indeed, Orthodox Spirituality is, essentially and basically,
Christocentric and Christological. The Christocentric emphasis
is conspicuous in the whole structure of Orthodox devotional
life: sacramental, corporate, and private. The Christological
pattern of Baptism, Eucharist, Penance, and also Marriage,
is obvious. All sacraments are, indeed, sacraments of the
believer*s life in Christo. Although the Eucharistie Prayer,
the Anaphora, is addressed and offered to the Father and
has, especially in the rite of St. Basil, an obvious Trinitarian
structure, the climax of the Sacrament is in the Presence of
Christ, including also His ministerial Presence ("for Thou
Thyself both offerest and art offered"), and in the personal
encounter of the faithful with their Living Lord, as partici-
pants at His ''Mystical Supper." The utter reality of this
encounter is vigorously stressed in the office of preparation
for Communion, as also in the prayers of thanksgiving after
Communion. The preparation is precisely for one's meeting
with Christ in the Sacrament, personal and intimate. Indeed,
one meets Christ only in the fellowship of the Church. Yet,
personal emphasis in all these prayers is dominant and pre-
vailing. This personal encounter of believers with Christ is
the very core of Orthodox devotional life. It suffices to
mention here the practice of the Jesus Prayerit is an intimate
intercourse of penitent sinners with the Redeemer. The
Akathistos Hymn to the "Sweetest Jesus" should also be
mentioned in this connection. On the other hand, the whole
of the Eucharistie rite is a comprehensive image of Christ's
redemptive oikonomia, as it was persistently emphasized in
the Byzantine liturgical commentaries, up to the magnificent
Exposition of the Holy Liturgy by Nicholas Kabasilas. In
his other treatise, The Life in Christ, Kabasilas interpreted
the whole devotional life from the Christological point of
view. It was an epitome of Byzantine spirituality.
9
Christ's Mystery is the center of Orthodox faith, as it is
also its starting point and its aim and climax. The mystery
of God's JBeing, the Holy Trinity, has been revealed and
disclosed by Him, who is ' One of the Holy Trinity." This
Mystery can be comprehended only through Christ, in medi-
tation on His Person. Only those who ""know" Hifn can
"know" the Father, and the Holy Spirit, the "Spirit of
adoption"to the Father, through the Incarnate Son. This
was the traditional way, both of Patristic theology, and of
Patristic devotion. The lex credendi and the lex orandi are
reciprocally interrelated. The basic pattern is surely the same
in both. The aim of man's existence is in the "Vision of God'
3
in the adoration of the Triune God. But this aim can be
achieved only through Christ, and in Him, who is at once
'perfect God" and "perfect Man," to use the phraseology
of Chalcedon. The main theme of Patristic theology was
always the Mystery of Christ's Person. Athanasian theology,
as well as Cappadocian theology, was basically Christological.
And this Christological concern permeated the whole theo-
logical thinking of the Ancient Church. It is still the guiding
principle of Orthodox theology today. Indeed, there is actu-
ally nothing specifically "Eastern" in this. It is simply the
common ethos of the Ancient Church. But, probably, it
has been more faithfully preserved in the Eastern Tradition.
One can evolve the whole body of Orthodox belief out of
the Dogma of Chalcedon.
In Patristic theology the Mystery of Christ has been
always presented and interpreted in the perspective of Salva-
tion. It was not just a speculative problem. It was rather an
existential problem. Christ came to solve the problem of
man's destiny. This soteriological perspective is conspicuous
in the thought of St. Irenaeus, St. Athanasius, the Cappa-
docians, St. Cyril of Alexandria, St. Maximus, St. Symeon the
New Theologian, up to St. Gregory Palamas. Yet, "Soteri-
ology" itself culminates in the concept of "New Creation."
It was both the Pauline and the Johannine theme. And the
whole dimension of Christology is disclosed only in the
doctrine of the Whole Christtotus Christus, caput et corpus,
as St. Augustine loved to say. The doctrine of the Church is
not an "appendix'' to Christology, and not just an extrapola-
tion of the "Christological principle," as it has been often
assumed. There is much more than an "analogy." Ecclesiology,
in the Orthodox view is an integral part of Christology.
There is no elaborate "ecclesiology" in the Greek Fathers.
There are but scattered hints and occasional remarks. The
ultimate reason for that was in the total integration of the
Church into the Mystery of Christ. "The Body of Christ" is
not an "appendix." Indeed, the final purpose of the Incarna-
tion was that the Incarnate should have "a body," which is
the Church, the New Humanity, redeemed and reborn in the
Head. This emphasis was especially strong in St. John
Chrysostom, in his popular preaching, addressed to all and to
everybody. In this interpretation Christology is given its full
existential significance, is related to man's ultimate destiny.
Christ is never alone. He is always the Head of His Body.
In Orthodox theology and devotion alike, Christ is never
separated from His Mother, the Theotokos, and His "friends,"
the saints. The Redeemer and the redeemed belong together
inseparably. In the daring phrase of St. John Chrysostom,
inspired by Ephes. 1. 23, Christ will be complete only when
His Body has been completed.
It is commonly assumed that, in counterdistinction from
the West, Eastern theology is mainly concerned with Incarna-
tion and Resurrection and that the "theology of the Cross/'
theologia cruets, has been under-developed in the East. Indeed,
Orthodox theology is emphatically a ''theology of glory,"
theologia gloriae, but only because it is primarily a "theology
of the Cross/' The Cross itself is the sign of glory. The
Cross itself is regarded not so much as a climax of Christ's
humiliation, but rather as a disclosure of Divine might and
glory. "Now is the Son of man glorified, and God is glorified
in him." Or, in the words of a Sunday hymn, "it is by the
Cross that great joy has come into the world." On the one
hand, the whole oikonomia of Redemption is summed up in
one comprehensive vision: the victory of Life. On the other,
this oikonomia is related to the basic predicament of fallen
man, to his existential situation, culminating in his actualized
''mortality," and the ' last enemy" is identified, accordingly,
as "death." It was this "last enemy" that had been defeated
and abrogated on the tree of the Cross, in ara cru eis. The
Lord of Life did enter the dark abyss of death, and "death"
was destroyed by the flashes of His glory. This is the main
motive of the divine office on Easter Day in the Orthodox
Church: "trampling down death by death." The phrase itself
is significant: Christ's death is itself a victory, Christ's death
dismisses man's mortality. According to the Fathers, Christ's
Resurrection was not just a glorious sequel to the sad
catastrophe of crucifixion, by which "humiliation" had been,
by divine intervention, transmuted and transvaluated into
"victory." Christ was victorious precisely on the Cross The
Death on the Cross itself was a manifestation of Life. Good
Friday in the Eastern Church is not a day of mourning. Indeed,
it is a day of reverent silence, and the Church abstains from
celebrating the Holy Eucharist on that day. Christ is resting
in His tomb. But it is the Blessed Sabbath, requies Sabbati
Magni, in the phrase of St. Ambrose. Or, in the words of
an Eastern hymn, "this is the blessed Sabbath, this is the
day of rest, whereon the Only Begotten Son of God has rested
from all His deeds." The Cross itself is regarded as an act of
God. The act of Creation has been completed on the Cross.
According to the Fathers, the death on the Cross was effective
not as a death of an Innocent One, not just as a sign of
surrender and endurance, not just as a display of human
obedience, but primarily as the death of the Incarnate God,
as a disclosure of Christ's Lordship. St. John Chrysostom put it
admirably: "I call Him King, because I see Him crucified,
for it is appropriate for a King to die for His subjects" {in
crue em et latronem, horn. I ) . Or, in the daring phrase of St.
Gregory of Nazianzus, "we needed a God Incarnate, we
needed God put to death, that we might live" {Horn. 45.
28). Two dangers must be cautiously avoided in the inter-
pretation of the mystery of the Cross: docetic and kenotic. In
both cases the paradoxical balance of the Chalcedoiiian defini-
tion is broken and distorted. Indeed, Christ's death was a
true death. The Incarnate did truly languish and suffer at
Gethsemane and on Calvary: "by His stripes we are healed."
The utter reality of suffering must be duly acknowledged and
emphasized, lest the Cross is dissolved into fiction: ut non
evacuetur crux Christi. Yet, it was the Lord of Creation that
died, the Son of God Incarnate, "One of the Holy Trinity."
The Hypostatic Union has not been broken, or even reduced,
by Christ's death. It may be properly said that God died
on the Cross, but in His own humanity. "He who dwelleth
in the highest is reckoned among the dead, and in the little
grave findeth lodging" (Office of Good Saturday, Canon,
Ode I X) . Christ's death is a human death indeed, yet it is
death within the hypostasis of the Word, the Incarnate Word.
And therefore it is a resurrecting death, a disclosure of Life.
Only in this connection can we understand adequately the
whole sacramental fabric of the Church, beginning with
Baptism: one rises with Christ from the baptismal font pre-
cisely because this font represents the grave of Christ, His
*'life-bearing grave," as it is usually described by the Ortho-
dox. The mystery of the Cross can be understood only in the
context of the total Christological vision. The mystery of
Salvation can be adequately apprehended only in the contest
of an accurate conception of Christ's Person: One Person in
two natures. One Person, and therefore one has to follow
strictly the pattern of the Creed: it is the Son of God who
came down, became man, suffered and died, and rose
again. There was but One Divine Person acting in the story
of salvationyet Incarnate. Only out of this Chalcedonian
vision can we understand the faith and devotion of the
Eastern Orthodox Church.
IV
Let us turn, in conclusion, to the immediate purpose of our
present gathering together. We are meeting now in an ecu-
menical setting/What is actually our meeting ground? Chris-
tian charity ? Ox deep conviction that all Christians sotnehow
belong together, and the hope that ultimately the "divided
Christians" may be re-united? Or do we assume that certain
"unity" is already given, or rather has never been lost? And
thenwhat kind of "unity"? In any case, we are meeting
now as we are, i.e., precisely as divided, conscious of the
division and mutual separation. And yet, the "meeting" itself
constitutes already some kind of "unity."
It has been recently suggested that basic division in the
Christian Word was not so much between "Catholics" afid
"Protestants," as precisely between East and West. "This
opposition is not of a dogmatic nature: neither the West nor
the East can be summed up in one set of dogmas applying to
it as a whole. . . The difference between East and west lies
in the very nature and method of their theological thinking,
in the very soil out of which their dogmatic, liturgical and
canonical developments arise, in the very style of their reli-
gious life."
10
There is some element of truth in this descriptive
statement. We should not, however, overlook the fact that
these different "blocs" of insights and convictions did actually
grow out of a common ground and were, in fact, products
of disintegration of mind. Accordingly, the very problem of
Christian reconciliation is not that of a correlation of parallel
traditions, but precisely that of the rintgration of a distorted
tradition. The two traditions may seem quite irreconcilable,
when they are compared and confronted as they are at the
present. Yet their differences themselves are, to a great
extent, simply the results of disintegration: they are, as it
were, distinctions stiffened into contradictions. The East and
the West can meet and find each other only if they remember
their original kinship in the common past. The first step to
make is to realize that, inspite of all peculiarities, East and
West belong organically together in the Unity of Christen-
dom.
Now, Arnold Toynbee, in his Study of History, contended
that "Western Europe/' or, as he put it himself, "the Western
Christian Society," was an "intelligible," i.e., "self-explana-
tory" field of study. It was just "self-contained." Obviously,
there were also several other fields of study, i.e., certain other
"societies," but all of them were also "self-contained" and
"self-explanatory." One of them was the Christian Eastthe
Eastern Christian Society, as Toynbee labelled it. Indeed, all
these "societies" actually "co-exist," in the same historic
space. Yet they are "self-explanatory." This contention of
Toynbee is highly relevant for our task. Do we really belong
to the two different and "self-explanatory" worlds, as he
suggests? Are these worlds really "self-explanatory"? Indeed,
Christendom is sorely divided. But are the divided parts really
"self-explanatory"? And here lies the crux of the problem.
The basic flaw of Toynbee's conception is that he simply
ignores the tragedy of Christian disruption. In fact, East and
West are not independent units, and therefore are not "intel-
ligible in themselves." They are fragments of one world,
of one Christendom, which, in God's design, ought not to
have been disrupted. The tragedy of division is the major
and crucial problem of Christian history. An attempt to
view Christian history as one comprehensive whole is already,
in a certain sense, a step in advance toward the restoration
of the broken unity. It was an important ecumenical achieve-
ment when the "divided Christians" realized that they did
belong together and therefore had to "stay together." The
next step is to realize that all Christians have "common
history/* that they have had a common history, a common
ancestry. This is what I have ventured to describe as "ecu-
menism in time." In the accomplishment of this task the
Orthodox Church has a special function. She is a living
embodiment of an uninterrupted tradition, in thought and
devotion. She stands not for a certain "particular" tradition,
but for the Tradition of ages, for the Tradition of the
Undivided Church.
Every scribe which is instructed unto the Kingdom of
Heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which
bringeth forth out of his treasure things new and old (Matt.
13. 52).
The Fathers of the Church and
The Old Testament
T
HE FAMOUS PHRASE of St. Augustine can be taken as
typical of the whole Patristic attitude towards the Old
Dispensation. Novum Testamentum in Vet ere latet. Vetus
Testamentum in Novo pat et. The New Testament is an
accomplishment or a consummation of the Old. Christ Jesus is
the Messiah spoken of by the prophets. In Him all promises
and expectations are fulfilled. The Law and the Gospel
belong together. And nobody can claim to be a true follower
of Moses unless he believes that Jesus is the Lord. Any
one who does not recognize in Jesus the Messiah, the
Anointed of the Lord, does thereby betray the Old Dispensa-
tion itself. Only the Church of Christ keeps now the right
key to the Scriptures, the true key to the prophecies of old.
Because all these prophecies are fulfilled in Christ.
St. Justin rejects the suggestion that the Old Testament
is a link holding together the Church and the Synagogue.
For him quite the opposite is true. All Jewish claims must
"The Old Testament and the Fathers of the Church" originally appeared
in The Student World, XXXII No. 4 (1939), 281-288. Reprinted by
permission of the author.
3i
be formally rejected. The Old Testament no longer belongs
to the Jews. It belongs to the Church alone. And the Church
of Christ is therefore the only true Israel of God. The Israel
of old was but an undeveloped Church. The word "Scriptures"
itself in early Christian use meant first of all just the Old
Testament and in this sense obviously this word is used in
the Creed: "according to the Scriptures," i.e. according to
the prophecies and promises of the Old Dispensation.
The Unity of the Bible
The Old Testament is copiously quoted by all early
writers. And even to the Gentiles the message of salvation
was always presented in the context of the Old,Testament.
This was an argument from antiquity. The Old Covenant
was not destroyed by Christ, but renewed and accomplished.
In this sense Christianity was not a new religion, but rather
the oldest. The new Christian "Scriptures" were simply
incorporated into the inherited Hebrew Bible, as its organic
completion. And only the whole Bible, both Testaments
together, was regarded as an adequate record of Christian
Revelation. There was no break between the two Testaments,
but a unity of Divine economy. And the first task of Chris-
tian theology was to show and to explain in what way the
Old Dispensation was the preparation and the anticipation
of this final Revelation of God in Jesus Christ. The Christian
message was not merely a proclamation of some doctrines,
but first of all a record of mighty acts and deeds of God
through the ages. It was a history of Divine guidance,
culminating in the person of Christ Jesus whom God has
sent to redeem His people. God has chosen Israel for His
inheritance, to be His people, to be the keejber of His truth,
and to this Chosen People alone the Divine Word was
entrusted. And now the Church receives this sacred heritage.
The Old Testament as a whole was regarded as a Chris-
The Fathers of the Church and the Old Testament
t i a n p r o p h e c y , a s a n " e v a n g e l i c a l p r e p a r a t i o n . " Ve r y e a r l y
s o me s pe c i a l s e l e c t i ons o f t h e O l d T e s t a me n t t e x t s w e r e
c o mp i l e d f or t h e u s e o f Ch r i s t i a n mi s s i o n a r i e s . T h e Testimonia
o f St . Cy p r i a n i s o n e o f t h e b e s t s p e c i me n s o f t h e k i n d . A n d
St . J u s t i n i n h i s Dialogue with Trypho m a d e a n a t t e mp t t o
p r o v e t h e t r u t h o f Ch r i s t i a n i t y f r o m t h e O l d T e s t a me n t
a l o n e . T h e Ma r c i o n i t e a t t e mp t t o b r e a k t h e N e w T e s t a me n t
a wa y f r o m i t s O l d T e s t a m e n t r o o t s w a s vi go r o u s l y r e s i s t e d
a n d c o n d e mn e d b y t h e G r e a t Ch u r c h . T h e u n i t y o f b o t h
T e s t a me n t s wa s s t r o n gl y e mp h a s i z e d , t h e i n n e r a g r e e me n t
o f b o t h w a s s t r e s s e d. T h e r e wa s a l wa y s s o me d a n g e r o f
r e a d i n g t o o mu c h o f Ch r i s t i a n d o c t r i n e i n t o t h e wr i t i n g s
o f t h e O l d T e s t a me n t . A n d h i s t o r i c a l p e r s p e c t i ve w a s s ome-
t i me s d a n g e r o u s l y o b s c u r e d . B u t s t i l l t h e r e w a s a g r e a t
t r u t h i n a l l t h e s e e x e ge t i c a l e n d e a v o r s . I t w a s a s t r o n g f e e l i n g
o f t h e Di v i n e g u i d a n c e t h r o u g h t h e a ge s .
The Old Testament as Allegory
T h e h i s t o r y o f O l d T e s t a me n t i n t e r p r e t a t i o n i n t h e
Ea r l y Ch u r c h i s o n e o f t h e mo s t t h r i l l i n g b u t e mb a r r a s s i n g
c h a p t e r s i n t h e h i s t o r y o f Ch r i s t i a n d o c t r i n e . W i t h t h e Gr e e k
O l d T e s t a me n t t h e C h u r c h i n h e r i t e d a l s o s o me e x e ge t i c a l
t r a d i t i o n s . P h i l o , t hi s He l l e n i z e d J e w f r o m A l e x a n d r i a , w a s
t h e b e s t e x p o n e n t o f t h i s p r e - Ch r i s t i a n e n d e a v o r t o c o mme n d
t h e O l d T e s t a me n t t o t h e Ge n t i l e w o r l d . He a d o p t e d f or
t hi s t a s k a ve r y p e c u l i a r me t h o d , a m e t h o d of a l l e go r y . P h i l o
h i ms e l f h a d n o u n d e r s t a n d i n g o f h i s t o r y w h a t e v e r . Me s s i a n i c
mo t i ve s w e r e c o mp l e t e l y o v e r l o o k e d o r i g n o r e d i n h i s p h i l o s -
o p h y o f t h e Bi b l e . F o r h i m t h e Bi b l e w a s j u s t a s ys t em o f
t h e Di v i n e P h i l o s o p h y , n o t s o mu c h a s a c r e d hi s t o r y . Hi s t o -
r i c a l e ve n t s a s s uch w e r e o f n o i n t e r e s t a n d o f n o i mp o r t a n c e
f o r h i m. T h e Bi b l e wa s f o r h i m j u s t a s i n gl e b o o k , i n w h i c h
h e f a i l e d t o d i s c e r n a ny h i s t o r i c a l p e r s p e c t i ve o r p r o g r e s s . I t
wa s t r e a t e d b y h i m r a t h e r a s a c ol l e c t i on o f g l o r i o u s p a r a b l e s
and didactic stories intended to convey and to illustrate certain
philosophical and ethical ideas.
In such an extreme form this allegorical method was never
accepted by the Church. One has however to recognize a
strong influence of Philo on all exegetical essays of the first
centuries. St. Justin made a large use of Philo. Pseudo-
Barnabas (early 2nd century) once went so far as to deny
the historical character of the Old Testament altogether.
Philonic traditions were taken up by the Christian school of
Alexandria. And even later St. Ambrose was closely following
Philo in his commentaries and could be justly described as
Philo latinus. This allegorical exegesis was ambiguous and
misleading.
It took a long time before the balance was established
or restored. And still one must not overlook the ppsitive con-
tribution of this method. The best exponent of allegorical
exegesis in the Church was Origen and his influence was
enormous. One may be shocked sometimes by his exegetical
daring and licence. He used indeed to read too much of his
own into the sacred text. But it would be a grave mistake to
describe him as a philosopher. He was first of all and through-
out a Biblical scholar, certainly in the style of his own age.
He spent days and nights over the Bible. His main purpose
was just to base all doctrine and all theology on a Biblical
ground. He was responsible to a great extent for the strength
of the Biblical spirit in the entire patristic theology. He did
much more for an average believer; he made the Bible
accessible to him. He steadily introduced the Old Testament
into his preaching. He helped the average Christian to read
and to use the Old Testament for their edification. He always
stressed the unity of the Bible, bringing both Testaments
into a closer relation. And he made a new attempt to build
the whole doctrine of God on a Biblical i>asis.
Origen's limitations are obvious. But his positive con-
tribution was much greater. And it was he who by his
example taught Christian theologians to go back always for
The Fathers of the Church and the Old Testament 35
their inspiration to the sacred text of Scriptures. His line
was followed by most of the Fathers. But he met strong
opposition at once. There is no room to dwell at length on
the controversy between the two exegetical schools in the
Early Church. The main features are commonly known. The
Antiochene school stood for *
f
history,'' Alexandrinians rather
for "contemplation." And surely both elements had to be
brought together in a balanced synthesis.
History or Preaching
The main Alexandrinian presumption was that, as being
Divinely inspired, the Scriptures must carry in them some
universal message, for all nations and ages. Their purpose
was just to exhibit this message, to discover and to preach
all these riches of Divine wisdom which have been
providentially stored in the Bible. Beneath the letter of the
Holy Writ there are some other lessons to be learned only
by the advanced. Behind all human records of manifold
revelations of God one can discern the Revelation, to
apprehend the very Word of God in all its eternal splendor.
It was assumed that even when God was speaking under
some special circumstances there was always something in
His word that passes all historical limitations. One has to
distinguish very carefully between a direct prophecy and
what one might describe as an application. Many of the
Old Testament narratives can be most instructive for a
believer even when no deliberate "prfiguration" of Chris-
tian truth has been intended by the sacred writers themselves.
The main presupposition was that God meant the Holy
Writ to be the eternal guide for the whole of mankind.
And therefore an application or a standing re-interpretation
of the Old Testament was authorized.
The Antiochene exegesis had a special concern for the
direct meaning of the old prophecies and stories. The chief
36 Aspects of Church HiMory
exponent of this "historical" exegisis was Theodore of
Mopsuestia, known in the East simply as "t he Interpreter."
And although his authority was gravely compromised by his
condemnation for his erroneous doctrines, his influence on
the Christian exegesis of the Old Testament was still very
considerable. This "historical" exegesis was often in danger
of missing the universal meaning of Divine Revelation by
overemphasis of the local and national aspects of the Old
Testament. And even more, to lose the sacred perspective,
to deal with the Old Testament history as if it were merely
the history of one single people among the nations of the
earth and' not a history of the only true Covenant of God.
St. John Chrysostom has combined the best elements of
both schools in his exegetical endeavor. He was an Antio-
chene scholar himself, but he was in many respects
follower
of Origen as well. Allegories may be misleading. But one
has not to overlook the "typical" meaning of events them-
selves. Old Testament institutions and personalities were
also the "types" or "figures" of the things to come. History
was prophetic itself. Events themselves do prophesy, they
did and do point out to something else, beyond themselves.
The Early Fathers can hardly be described as "fundamen-
talists." They were always after the Divine truth, after the
Divine message itself, which is often rather concealed under
the cover of the letter. The belief in Inspiration could rather
discourage the fundamentalist tendency. The Divine truth
cannot be reduced to the letter even of Holy Writ. One
of the best specimens of Patristic exegesis was the Hexa-
emeron of St. Basil, who has succeeded in bringing forward
the religious truth of the Biblical narrative of the creation
with real balance and sound moderation.
The Old Testament and Christian Worship
The Patristic attitude towards the Old Testament was
The Fathers of the Church and the Old Testament 37
reflected in the history of Christian worship. The Jewish
roots of Christian Liturgy are obvious. But the whole system
of Christian public worship was linked closely to the practice
of the Synagogue as well. The Psalms were inherited from
the Jews, and they became a pattern of the whole Christian
hymnography in the early Church. The Psalms form the
skeleton of Christian offices until now. They were the
basis of all devotional literature in old days.
The student of public worship in the Eastern Orthodox
Church would be impressed by the amount of Old Testament
references, hints and images, in all offices and hymns. The
unity of the two Testaments is stressed throughout. Biblical
motives are superabundant. Many hymns are but variations
on the pattern of the Old Testament songs, from the song
of Moses at the crossing of the Red Sea up to the song of
Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist. On great festivals
numerous lessons from the Old Testament are appointed
and actually read to stress that Christian perfection was but
a consummation of what was pre-figured and foreshadowed,
or even directly predicted of old. And specially in the offices
of Holy Week this Old Testament preparation is particularly
emphasized. The whole worship is based upon this conviction
that the true Covenant was always one, that there was a
complete agreement between the Prophets and the Apostles.
And all this system was established just in the later Patristic
age.
One of the most striking examples of this devotional
Biblicism is the glorious Great Canon of St. Andreas of
Crete, read at the Great Compline in Lent. It is a strong
exhortation, an appeal for repentance, composed with a real
poetical inspiration and based upon the Bible. The whole
series of Old Testament sinners, both penitent and impenitent,
is remembered. One can be almost lost in this continuous
stream of names and examples. One is emphatically reminded
that all this Old Testament story belongs to one as a Chris-
tian. One is invited to think over again and again this
wonderful story of Divine guidance and human obstinacy
and failures. The Old Testament is kept as a great treasure.
One has to mention as well the influence which the Song of
Songs had on the development of Christian mysticism,
prigen's commentary on this book was in St. Jerome's opinion
his best composition, in which he surpassed himself. And
St. Gregory of Nyssa's mystical commentary on the Song of
Songs is a rich mine of a genuine Christian inspiration.
The Old Testament as the Word of God
It has been more than once suggested that in the Greek
Fathers the primitive Christian message was hellenized too
much. One has to be very cautious with all such utterances.
In any case it is the Fathers who have kept all the treasures
of the Old Testament and made them the indispensable
heritage of the Church, both in worship and in theology. The
only thing they never did is this: they never kept fast to
the Jewish limitations. The Holy Writ for them was an
eternal and universal Revelation. It is addressed to all man-
kind now simply because it was addressed to all nations by
God Himself even when the Divine Word was delivered
by the prophets to the Chosen People alone. It means that
one cannot measure the depth of Divine Revelation
with the measure of some past time only, however sacred
those times may be. It is not enough to be sure that the
ancient Hebrews understood and interpreted the Scriptures
in a certain way. This interpretation can never be final. New
light has been thrown on the old revelations by Him Who
came just to accomplish and to fulfil the Law and the
Prophets. The Scriptures are not merely historical documents.
They are really the Word of God, the Divine message to
all generations. And Christ Jesus is the Alpha and Omega
of the Scriptures, both the climax and the knot of the Bible.
This is the standing message of the Fathers to the Church
Universal about the Old Dispensation.
St. Athanasius' Concept of
Creation
T
HE IDEA of Creation was a striking Christian innovation
in philosophy. The problem itself was alien and even
unintelligible to the Greek mind: de rerum originatione
radicali. The Greek mind was firmly addicted to the con-
ception of an Eternal Cosmos, permanent and immutable in
its essential structure and composition. This Cosmos simply
existed. Its existence was "necessary," it was an ultimate or
first datum, beyond which neither thought nor imagination
could penetrate. There was, indeed, much movement within
the world"the wheel of origin and decay/* But the Cosmos
as a whole was unchangeable, and its permanent structure
was repeatedly and unfailingly exhibited in its. rotation and
self-iteration. It was not a static world, there was in it an
intense dynamism: but it was a dynamism of inescapable
circulation. The Cosmos was a periodical, and yet a "neces-
This article originally appeared in Studia Patristica, Vol. VI, ed. F. L.
Cross (Berlin: Akademie Verlag; Texte und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte
der altchristlichen Literatur, Band 81, 1962), 36-57. Reprinted by permission
of the author.
39
sary" and "immortal" being. The "shape" of the world
might be exposed to changes, it was actually in a constant
flux, but its very existence was perennial. One simply could
not ask intelligently about the "origin" or "beginning" of
the Cosmic fabric in the order of existence.
1
It was precisely at this point that the Greek mind was
radically challenged by Biblical Revelation. This was a
hard message for the Greeks. Indeed, it is still a hard message
for philosophers.
The Bible opens with the story of Creation. "In the
beginning God created the heaven and the earth." This has
become a credal statement in the Christian Church. The
Cosmos was no more regarded as a "self-explanatory" being.
Its ultimate and intrinsic dependence upon God's will and
action has been vigorously asserted. But much more than
just this relation of "dependence" was implied in the Biblical
concept: the world was created ex nihilo, i.e., it did not exist
"eternally." In retrospect one was bound to discover its
"beginning"/?atf nihilum, as it were. The tension between
the two visions, Hellenic and Biblical, was sharp and con-
spicuous. Greeks and Christians, as it were, were dwelling
in different worlds. Accordingly, the categories of Greek
philosophy were inadequate for the description of the world
of Christian faith. The main emphasis of Christian faith was
precisely on the radical contingency of the Cosmos, on its
contingency precisely in the order of existence. Indeed, the
very existence of the world pointed, for Christians, to the
Other, as its Lord and Maker. On the other hand, the Creation
of the world was conceived as a sovereign and "free" act
of God, and not as something which was "necessarily"
implied or inherent in God's own Being. Thus, there was
actually a double contingency: on the side of the Cosmos
which could "not have existed at all," and on the side of the
Creatorwho could "not have created" anything at all. In
the fine phrase of Etienne Gilson, "it is quite true that a
Creator is an eminently Christian God, but a God whose very
St. Athanasius' Concept of Creation 4l
existence is to be a creator is not a Christian God at all."
2
The very existence of the world was regarded by the Chris-
tians as a mystery and miracle of Divine Freedom.
Christian thought, however, was maturing but gradually
and slowly, by a way of trial and retraction. The early Chris-
tian writers would often describe their new vision of faith
in the terms of old and current philosophy. They were not
always aware of, and certainly did not always guard against,
the ambiguity which was involved in such an enterprise. By
using Greek categories Christian writers were forcing upon
themselves," without knowing it, a world which was radically
different from that in which they dwelt by faith. Thus they
were often caught between the vision of their faith and the
inadequacy of the language they were using. This predica-
ment must be taken quite seriously. Etienne Gilson once
suggested that Christianity has brought the new wine, but
the old skins were still good enough, i.e., the skins of Greek
Philosophy. "La pense chrtienne apportait du vin nouveau,
mais les vieilles outres taient encore bonnes."
3
It is an
elegant phrase. But is it not rather an optimistic overstate-
ment? Indeed, the skins did not burst at once, but was it
really to the benefit of nascent Christian thought? The
skins were badly tainted with an old smell, and the wine
acquired in them had an alien flavor. In fact, the new vision
required new terms and categories for its adequate and fair
expression. It was an urgent task for Christians "to coin
new names," , in the phrase
of St. Gregory of Nazianzus.
Indeed, the radical contingency of the created world was
faithfully acknowledged by Christian writers from the very
beginning. The Lordship of God over all His Creation was
duly emphasized. God alone was mighty and eternal. All
created things were brought into existence, and sustained in
existence, solely by the grace and pleasure of God, by His
sovereign will. Existence was always a gift of God. From
this point of view, even the human soul was "mortal," by
its own "nature," i.e. contingent, because it was a creature,
and was maintained only by the grace of God. St. Justin was
quite explicit at this pointin opposition t Platonic argu-
ments for "immortality." Indeed, "immortal" would mean
for him "uncreated."
4
But it was not yet clear how this
creative "will" of God was related to His own "being." And
this was the crucial problem. In early Christian thinking the
very idea of God was only gradually released out of that
"cosmological setting," in which it used to be apprehended
by Greek philosophical thought. The mystery of the Holy
Trinity itself was often interpreted in an ambiguous cosmo-
logical contextnot primarily as a mystery of God's own
Being, but rather in the perspective of God's creative and
redemptive action and self-disclosure in the world. This was
the main predicament of the Logos-theology in the Apol-
ogists, in Hippolytus, and in Tertullian. All these writers
could not distinguish consistently between the categories of
the Divine "Being" and those of Divine "Revelation"
ad extra, in the world. Indeed, it was rather a lack of preci-
sion, an inadequacy of language, than an obstinate doctrinal
error. The Apologists were not just pre-Arians or pro-Arians.
Bishop George Bull was right in his Defensio Fidei Nicenae
against the charges of Petavius. And yet, as G. L. Prestige
has pointed out, "the innocent speculations of Apologists
came to provide support for the Arian school of thought."
5
The case of Origen is especially significant. He also failed
to distinguish between the ontological and cosmological
dimensions. As Bolotov has aptly stated, "the logical link
between the generation of the Son and the existence of the
world was not yet broken in the speculation of Origen."
6
It
can be even contended that this very link has been rather
reinforced in Origen's thinking. The ultimate question for
Origen was precisely this: Is it possible or permissible to
think of God without conceiving Him at once as Creator?
The negative answer to this question was for Origen the
only devout option. An opposite assumption would be sheer
St. Athanasius' Concept of Creation Ab
blasphemy. God could never have become anything that
He has not been always. There is nothing simply "potential"
in God's Being, everything being eternally actualized. This
was Origen's basic assumption, his deepest conviction. God
is always the Father of the Only Begotten, and the Son is
co-eternal with the Father: any other assumption would
have compromised the essential immutability of the Divine
Being. But God also is always the Creator and the Lord.
Indeed, if God is Creator at alland it is an article of faith
that He is Lord and Creator-we must necessarily assume
that He had always been Creator and Lord. For, obviously,
God never "advances" toward what He had not been before.
For Origen this implied inevitably also an eternal actualiza-
tion of the world's existence, of all those things over which
God's might and Lordship were exercised. Origen himself
used the term , which he borrowed surely
from the Septuagint. Its use by Origen is characteristic. The
Greek term is much more pointed than its Latin or English
renderings: Omnipotens, "Almighty." These latter terms
emphasize just might or power. The Greek word stresses
specifically the actual exercise of power. The edge of Origen's
argument is taken off in Latin translation. "
is in the first place an active word, conveying the idea not
just of capacity but of the actualization of capacity."
7
means just , the ruling Lord. And
God could not be eternally unless
also existed from all eternity. God's might must have been
eternally actualized in the created Cosmos, which therefore
appears to be an eternal concomitant or companion of the
Divine Being. In this context any clear distinction between
"generation" and "creation" was actually impossibleboth
were eternal relations, indeed "necessary" relations, as it
were, intrinsic for the Divine Being. Origen was unable,
and indeed reluctant and unwilling, to admit anything "con-
tingent" about the world itself, since, in his conception, this
would have involved also a certain "change" on the Divine
level. In Origen's system the eternal being of the Holy
Trinity and the eternal existence of the world are indivisibly
and insolubly linked together: both stand and fall together.
The Son is indeed eternal, and eternally "personal" and
"hypostatic." But He is eternally begotten in relation to the
eternally created world.
8
Origen's argument is straight and consistent, under his
basic assumptions. It would be flagrantly impious to admit
that God could ever have existed without His Wisdom,
even for a single moment^ punctum momenti alicujus.
God is always the Father of His Son, who is born of Him,
but "without any beginning''sine ullo tarnen initio. And
Origen specifies: "not only of that kind which can be dis-
tinguished by intervals of mzaliquihus t empor um spatiis,
but even of that other kind which the mind alone is wont
to contemplate in itself and to perceive, if I may say so,
with the bare intellect and reason"nudo intellectu. In
other words, Wisdom is begotten beyond the limit of any
imaginable "beginning"extra omne ergo quod el diet el
intelligi pot est initium. Moreover, as Origen explained else-
where, the "generation" of Wisdom could not be interpreted
as an accomplished "event," but rather as a permanent and
continuous relationshipa relation of "being begotten," just
as radiance is perpetually concomitant with the light itself,
and Wisdom is, in the phrase of Sap. Sal. 7, 26, an
(In Jerem. horn. IX 4:
. . . * ,
70 Klostermann; cf. Latin translation in the "Apology" of
Pamphilus, PG 17, 564). Now, according to Origen, in
the very subsistence of Wisdom the whole design of creation
is already implied. The whole creation, universa creatura, is
pre-arranged in Wisdom (De princ. I 2, 2; 2930 Koets-
chau). The text of this important passage might have
been somewhat edited by the Latin translator, but surely
the main argument was faithfully reproduced (cf. the frag-
ment in Greek, in Methodius, De creatis, quoted by Photius,
Cod. 235). Origen spoke of "prevision": virtute praescientiae.
But, according to his own basic principle, there could
be no temporal order or sequence. The world as "pre-viewed"
in Wisdom had to be also eternally actualized.
9
It is in
this direction that Origen continued his argument. And
here the terms "Father" and "Pantokrator" are conspicuously
bracketed together. "Now as one cannot be father apart
from having a son, nor a lord apart from holding a posses-
sion or a slave, so we cannot even call God almighty if
there are none over whom He can exercise His power.
Accordingly, to prove that God is Almighty we must assume
the existence of the world." But, obviously, God is Lord from
all eternity. Consequently, the world, in its entirety, also
existed from all eternity: necessario exister e oportet (De
princ. 12, 10; 4142 Koetschau; cf. th Greek quotation
in Justinian, Epist. ad Mennam, Mansi IX 528). In brief, the
world must be always co-existent with God and therefore
co-eternal. Of course, Origen meant the primordial world
of spirits. Actually, in Origen's conception there was but
one eternal hierarchical system of beings, a "chain of being."
He could never escape the cosmological pattern of Middle
Platonism.
10
Moreover, Origen seems to have interpreted the Genera-
tion of the Son as an act of the Father's will: -
(quoted by Justinian, Mansi
IX 525). On the other hand he was utterly suspicious of
the phrase: , and probably even
formally repudiated it. For him it was a dangerous and
misleading phrase, heavily overloaded with gross "material-
istic" associations, and suggesting division and separation in
the Divine substance (In loh. XX 18; 351 Preuschen; De
prim. IV 4, 1; 348 Koetschau; cf. the quotation by Marcellus,
given in Eusebius, c. Marcellum I 4; 21 Klostermann). The
textual evidence is confused and inconclusive.
11
It may be
true that at this point Origen was opposing the Gnostics,
especially the Valentinian conception of , and only
wanted to vindicate the strictly spiritual character of every-
thing Divine.
12
Yet, there was a flagrant ambiguity. Both
the generation of the Son and the creation of the world are
equally attributed to the will or counsel of the Father. "And
my own opinion is that an act of the Father's willvoluntas
Patrisought to be sufficient to ensure the subsistence of
what He wills. For in willing He uses no other means* than
that which is produced by the deliberation of His willnisi
quae consilio voluntatis profertur. Thus, it is in this way
that the existence of the Son also is begotten of Himit a
ergo et filii ab eo subsistentia generatur" (De princ. I 2, 6;
35 Koetschau). The meaning of this passage is rather obscure,
and we have no Greek text.
18
But, in any case, once again
the Son is explicitly bracketed together with creatures.
14
There was an unresolved tension, or an inner contradic-
tion, in the system of Origen. And it led to an inner conflict,
and finally to an open split, among those theologians who
were profoundly influenced by his powerful thought. It may
be contended, indeed, that his trinitarian theology was
intrinsically orthodox^ that is, pro-Nicene, so that the inter-
pretation of his views by St. Athanasius and the Cappa-
docians was fair and congenial to his ultimate vision. Indeed,
Origen strongly defended the eternity of the Divine Genera-
tion and, at this point, was definitely anti-Arian. If we
can trust St. Athanasius, Origen explicitly denounced those
who dared to suggest that "there was when the Son was
not," f\v f\v , whosoever these people
might have been (see the quotation from Origen in St. Athan-
asius, De decretis 27). Yt, on the other hand, the general
scheme of his theology was utterly inadequate at many crucial
points. In any case, the controversies of the fourth century
can be properly understood only in the perspective of Origen's
theology and its problematic. The crucial philosophical prob-
lem at the bottom of that theological controversy was
precisely that of time and eternity. Within the system itself
there were but two opposite options: to reject the eternity
L
5/. Athanasius' Concept of Creation 47
of the world or to contest the eternity of the Logos. The
latter option was taken by Arius and all those who, for
various reasons, sympathized with him. His opponents were
bound to insist on the temporality of the world. The problem
of creation was the crucial philosophical problem in the
dispute. No clarity could be reached in the doctrine of God
until the problem of creation had been settled. Indeed, the
essence of the controversy was religious, the ultimate issue
was theological. But faith and piety themselves could be
vindicated at this historic juncture only by philosophical
weapons and arguments. This was well understood already
by St. Alexander of Alexandria: ,
says Socrates of him (I 5). St. Alexander made the first
attempt to disentangle the doctrine of God out of the tradi-
tional cosmological context, while keeping himself still close
to the tenets of Origen.
15
Arius himself contended that the Logos was a "creature,"
a privileged creature indeed, not like others, but still no more
than a originated by the will of God. Accordingly,
God for him was primarily the Creator, and apart from that,
little, if anything, could be said of the unfathomable and
incomprehensible Being of God, unknown even to the Son.
Actually, there was no room for "theology" in his system.
The only real problem was that of "cosmology"a typically
Hellenic approach. Arius had to define the notion of creation.
Two major points were made: (a) the total dissimilarity
between God and all other realities which "had beginning,"
beginning of any kind; (b) the "beginning" itself. The
Son had a "beginning," simply because He was a son, that
isoriginated from the Father, as His : only God
(the Father) was in the strict sense of the word.
It seems that with Arius the main emphasis lay on the rela-
tion of dependence as such, and the element of time was
comparatively irrelevant for his argument. Indeed, in his
famous letter to Eusebius of Nicomedia, Arius stated plainly
that the Son came into existence "before all times and ages"
(apud Epiph., Haeres.
LXIX 6; 156 Holl, and Theodoret, Hist. eccl. 14, 63; 25
Parmentier). St. Athanasius himself complained that the
Arians evaded the term (Contra Arianos I 13). Yet,
they obviously contended that all things "created" did some-
how "come into existence," so that th state of "being" has
been preceded, at least logically, by a state of "non-being"
out of which they have emerged, . In this
sense "they did not exist before they came into existence"
f\v ]. Obviously, "creatureliness" meant
for the Arians more than just "dependence": it implied also
an "essential" dissimilarity with God, and a finitude, that
issome limitation in retrospect. On the other hand, it was
strongly stressed that all Creation was grounded in the will
and deliberation of God: , as Arius
himself wrote to Eusebius. The latter motive was Origenistic.
Indeed, Arius went much further than Origen: Origen
rejected only the Gnostic , but Arius repudiated any
"natural" affinity of Logos with God. Arius simply had
nothing to say about the life of God, apart from His
engagement in Creation. At this point his thought was
utterly archaic.
It is highly significant that the Council of Antioch in
324/5that is, before Nicaeatook up all these major points.
The Son is begotten "not from that which is not but from
the Father," in an ineffable and indescribable manner, "not
as made but as properly offspring," and not "by volition."
He existed everlastingly and "did not at one time not exist."
Again, "He is the express image, not of the will or anything
else, but of His Father's very hypostasis."
16
For all these
reasons the Son could not be regarded as "creature." Nothing
has been said about Creation. But one can easily guess what
"Creation" and "creatureliness" meant for the Fathers of
the Council. All elements, of which the later clear distinction
between "begetting" and "creating" (or "making") has
been construed, are already implied in the conciliar statement.
St. Athanasius made a decisive contribution at the next
stage of the dispute.
II
Already in his early writings, before the outbreak of the
Arian strife, St. Athanasius was wrestling with the problem
of Creation. For him it was intimately related to the crucial
message of the Christian faith: the redemptive Incarnation
of the Divine Word. Indeed, his interpretation of Redemp-
tion, as it was expounded in De ncarnatione Verbi, is
grounded in a distinctive conception of the Cosmos. There
was, in the vision of St. Athanasius, an ultimate and radical
cleavage or hiatus- between the absolute Being of God and
the contingent existence of the World. There were actually
two modes of existence, radically different and totally dis-
similar. On the one handthe Being of God, eternal and
immutable, "immortal" and "incorruptible." On the other
the flux of the Cosmos, intrinsically mutable and "mortal,"
exposed to change and "corruption." The ultimate onto-
logical tension was precisely between the Divine
and the of the Cosmic flux. Since the whole Creation
had once begun, by the will and pleasure of God, "out of
nothing," an ultimate "meonic" tendency was inherent in
the very "nature" of all creaturely things. By their own
"nature," all created things were intrinsically unstable, fluid,
impotent, mortal, liable to dissolution: -
, & ,
' -
. Their existence was precarious. If there
was any order and stability in the Cosmos, they were, as it
were, super-imposed upon its own "nature," and imparted to
created things by the Divine Logos. It was the Logos that
ordered and bound together the whole Creation
counter-acting thereby, as it were, its in-
herent leaning toward disintegration. Indeed, the creaturely
"nature" itself is also God's creation. But it was inwardly
limited by its creaturely condition: it was inescapably "mortal"
and mutable. St. Athanasius formally disavowed the notion of
seminal , immanent and inherent in the things them-
selves. Creation stood only by the immediate impact of the
Divine Logos. Not only was the Cosmos brought into
existence "out of nothing," by an initial and sovereign
creative fiat of God, but it was maintained in existence
solely by the continuous action of the Creator. Man also
shared in this "natural" instability of the Cosmos, as a
"composite" being and originated "out of the non-existing":
. By his very "nature," man
also was "mortal" and "corruptible" -
and could escape this condition of mortality only by
God's grace and by participation in the energies of the Logos:

. By himself man was unable "to continue
forever"
(Contra gent es 40 to 43; Deine am.
2, 3, 5). The pattern of this exposition is conspicuously
"Platonic." But St. Athanasius used it judiciously. The
cosmic or "demiurgic" function of the Logos was strongly
stressed in his conception. But His Divine transcendence
was also vigorously stressed. Indeed, the Divine character of
the Logos was the main presupposition of the whole argu-
ment. The Logos was, in the phrase of St. Athanasius, "the
Only-begotten God," originating eternally from the Father
as from a spring, a . There was an absolute dissimilarity
between the Logos and the creatures. The Logos is present
in the world, but only "dynamically," that is, by His "powers."
In His own "substance" He is outside of the world:
' ,
(De incarn. 17). Now, this dis-
tinction between "essence" and "powers" can be traced back
to Philo and Plotinus, and, indeed, to the Apologists and
Clement of Alexandria. But in St. Athanasius it has a
totally new connotation. It is never applied to the relationship
between God and Logos, as had been done even by Origen.
It serves now a new purpose: to discriminate strictly between
the inner Being of God and His creative and "providential"
manifestation ad extra, in the creaturely world. The world
owes its very existence to God's sovereign will and goodness
and stands, over the abyss of its own nothingness and
impotence, solely by His quickening "Grace"as it were,
sola gratia. But the Grace abides in the world.
17
In his struggle with the Arians St. Athanasius proceeded
from the same presuppositions. The main dmarcartion line
passes between the Creator and the Creation, and not between
the Father and the Son, as Arians contended. Indeed, the
Logos is Creator. But He is Creator precisely because He
is fully Divine, an "undistinguishable Image" of the Father,
. In creation He is not just an
"instrument," . He is its ultimate and immediate
efficient cause. His own Being is totally independent of
creation, and even of the creative design of the world. At
this point St. Athanasius was quite formal. The crucial text
is in Contra Arianos II 31:
9
,
9

,

'"
, ,
,
9

9

9
! -
.
,
9
fjv \

9
, \ 6 .
\ *

9
, . ' -
,
,

9
, *

9
-
.Even supposing that the Father had never been
disposed to create the world, or a part of it, nevertheless the
Logos would have been with God and the Father in Him . . .
This was the core of the argument. In fact, St. Athanasius
carefully eliminates all references to the of
creation or salvation from his description of the inner rela-
tionship between the Father and the Son. This was his
major and decisive contribution to Trinitarian theology
in the critical situation of the Arian dispute. And this left
him free to define the concept of Creation properly, -
, in the ancient sense of the word, and
must be clearly and strictly distinguished and delimited,
although they could not be separated from each other. But
God's "Being" has an absolute ontological priority over
God's action and will.
God is much more than just "Creator/' When we call
God "a Father," we mean something higher than His rela-
tion to creatures {Contra Arianos I 33). "Before" God
creates at all, , He is Father, and He
creates through His Son. For the Arians, actually, God was
no more than a Creator and Shaper of creatures, argued St.
Athanasius. They did not admit in God anything that was
"superior to His will," .
But, obviously, "being" precedes "will," and "generation,"
accordingly, surpasses the "will" also: /
(112). Of course, it is but
a logical order: there is no temporal sequence in Divine
Being and Life. Yet, this logical order has an ontological
significance. Trinitarian names denote the very character
of God, His Very Being. They are, as it were, ontological
names. There are, in fact, two different sets of names which
may be used of God. One set of names refers to God's
deeds or actsthat is, to His will and counselthe other to
God's own essence and being. St. Athanasius insisted that
these two sets of names had to be formally and consistently
distinguished. And, again, it was more than just a logical or
mental distinction. There was a distinction in the Divine
reality itself. God is what He is: Father, Son, and the Holy
Spirit. It is an ultimate reality, declared and manifested in
the Scriptures. But Creation is a deed of the Divine will, and
this will is common to and identical in all Three Persons of
the One God. Thus, God's Fatherhood must necessarily
precede His Creatorship. The Son's existence flows eternally
from the very essence of the Father, or, rather, belongs to this
"essence," . The world's existence, on the contrary, is,
as it were, "external" to this Divine essence and is grounded
only in the Divine will. There is an element of contingency
in the exercise and disclosure of the creative will, as much as
His will reflects God's own essence and character. On the
other hand, there is, as it were, an absolute necessity in the
Trinitarian being of God. The word may seem strange and
startling. In fact, St. Athanasius did not use it directly. It
would have embarassed Origen and many others, as offensive
to God's perfection: does it not imply that God is subject to
certain "constraint" or fatalistic determinism? But, in fact,
"necessity" in this case is but another name for "being" or
"essence." Indeed, God does not "choose" His own Being.
He simply is. No further question can be intelligently asked.
Indeed, it is proper for God "to create," that is, to manifest
Himself ad extra. But this manifestation is an act of His
will, and in no way an extension of His own Being. On
the other hand, "will" and "deliberation" should not be
invoked in the description of the eternal relationship between
Father and Son. At this point St. Athanasius was definite
and explicit. Indeed, his whole refutation of Arianism
depended ultimately upon this basic distinction between
"essence" and "will," which alone could establish clearly
the real difference in kind between "Generation" and
"Creation." The Trinitarian vision and the concept of
Creation, in the thought of St. Athanasius, belonged closely
and organically together.
18
Let us examine now in detail some few characteristic
passages in the famous Athanasian Discourses against the
Arians. The accurate dating of these "Discourses" "is irrele-
vant for our present purpose.
I 19: God is described in the Scripture as the Fountain
of Wisdom and Life. The Son is His Wisdom. Now, if one
admits with the Arians that *'there was when He was not,"
this would imply that once the Fountain was dry, or, rather,
that it was not a fountain at all. The spring from which
nothing flows is not a spring at all.The simile is char-
acteristic of St. Athanasius. It reappears often in the "Dis-
courses." See, for instance, II 2: if the Word was not the
genuine Son of God, God Himself would no longer be a
Father, but only a Shaper of creatures. The fecundity of the
Divine nature would have been quenched.
4
The nature of
God would be sterile, and not fertile: . . .
. It would be a barren thing, a light without
shining, a dry font: .
See also 14: \ ,
; or II 33: .
Both the argument and the imagery can be traced back to
Origen. Otiosam enim et immobilem dicere naturam Dei
impium est simul et absurdum (De princ. Ill 5 2 ; 272
Koetschau). But, as we have already seen, in Origen the
argument was ambiguous and misleading. It was ambiguous
because there was no room for any clear discrimination be-
tween "being" and "acting/' It was misleading because it
coupled "generation" and "creation" so closely and intimately
together as not to allow any demarcation line. This ambiguity
is avoided carefully by St. Athanasius. He never uses this
argumentfrom the Divine "fertility"in reference to the
will of God. On the contrary, he formally refuses to follow
Origen at this point,of course, without quoting him.
I 20: God was never without anything that is His own:
f\v ; On the other
hand, created things have no affinity or similarity with the
Creator:
9

. They are outside God: . They
5/. Athanasius' Concept of Creation 5 5
hve received their existence by the grace and appointment
of the Word:
. And, St. Athanasius characteristically adds, "they
could again cease to exist, if it pleased their Creator"
,
. For, he concludes, "such is the nature of created
things' ' -- ,. See also
II 24 and 29 :
. Now, at this very point St. Athanasius had to
face an objection of his opponents. They said: Is it not so
that God must be Creator always, since the "power of
creating" could not have come to God, as it were, sub-
sequently?
. Therefore, all creatures must be eternal. It is
significant that this counter-argument of the Arians was
actually Origen's famous argument, based on the analysis of
the term . Only the conclusion was different.
Origen's conclusion was that, indeed, creatures were eternal.
For the Arians that was blasphemy. By the same argument
they wanted to reduce ad absurdum the proof of the eternal
generation. It was an attack both on Origen and on St. Athan-
asius. St. Athanasius meets the charge on his own ground. Is
there really such a "similarity" between generation and cre-
ation that what must be said of God as Father
must also be said of Him as Creator:
? This i s the
sting of the Athanasian rejoinder. In fact, there is total
disparity/The Son is an offspring of the substance:
. Creatures are, on the contrary,
"external" to the Creator. Accordingly, there is no "necessity"
for them to exist eternally: . But
generation is not subject to will (or deliberation):
. It is, on the contrary,
a property of the substance:
. Moreover, a man can be called "a maker," -
, even before he has made anything. But nobody can be
called "a father" before he has a son..This is to say that
God could be described as Creator even ''before" Creation
came into existence. It is a subtle but valid point in the
argument. St. Athanasius argues that, although God could,
indeed, have created things from all eternity, yet created
things themselves could not have existed eternally, since
they are "out of nothing," , and consequently
did not exist before they were brought into existence:
. "How can things which did not exist
before they originated be co-eternal with GodP'' -
OVTL ; This turn of the
argument is highly significant. Indeed, if one starts, as
Origen did, with the eternity and immutability of God, it is
difficult to see, how anything truly" "temporal" could have
existed at all. All acts of God must be eternal. God simply
could not "have started." But in this case the proper "nature"
of temporal things is ignored and disregarded. This is pre-
cisely what St. Athanasius wanted to say. "Beginning"
belongs to the very "nature" of temporal things. Now, it is
the beginning of temporal existence, of an existence in time
and flux. For that reason creatures cannot "co-exist" with
the Eternal God. There are two incomparable modes of
existence. Creatures have their own mode of subsistence:
they are outside God. Thus creatures, by their very nature,
cannot "co-exist" with God. But this inherent limitation of
their nature does not, in any sense, disparage the power
of the Creator. The main point of St. Athanasius was precisely
this. There is an identity of nature in generation, and a
disparity of natures in creation (cf. I 26).
I 36: Since created beings arise "out of nothing," their
existence is bound to be a state of flux:
. Cf. I 58: Their existence is precarious,
they are perishable by nature: .
This does not imply that they will actually and necessarily
perish. Yet, if they do not actually perish, it is only by the
grace of the Creator. The Son alone, as an offspring of the
5/. Athanasius
9
Concept of Creation 57
substance, has an intrinsic power "to co-exist" eternally with
the Father:
. See also II 57: The being of that which has
existence " according to a beginning" can be traced back
to a certain initial instant.
In the later part of his third ' 'Discourse" St. Athanasius
discusses at great length the Arian contention that the Son
has been begotten by "the will and deliberation" of the
Father:
(III 59). These terms, protests St.
Athnasius, are quite out of place in this connection. Arians
simply attempt to hide their heresy under the cover of these
ambiguous words. St. Athanasius suggests that they bor-
rowed their ideas at this point from the Gnostics and men-
tions the name of Ptolemy. Ptolemy taught that God first
thought, and then willed and acted. In a similar way, St.
Athanasius contends, Arians claim that the will and delibera-
tion of the Father preceded the generation of the Word.
He quotes Asterius at this point.
19
In fact, however, these
terms"will" and "deliberation"are only applicable to the
production of creaturely things. Now, Arians claim that
unless the Son's existence depended upon the "deliberation"
of the Father, it would appear that God has a Son "by
necessity" and, as it were, "unwillingly"
. This kind of reasoning, St. Athanasius retorts, only
shows their inability to grasp the basic difference between
"being" and "acting." God does not deliberate with Himself
about His own being and existence. Indeed, it would be
absurd to contend that God's goodness and mercy are just
His voluntary habit, and not a part of His nature. But
does it mean that God is good and merciful unwillingly?
Now, what is "by Nature" is higher than that which is only
"by deliberation" -
. The Son being an offspring of
the Father's own substance, the Father does not "deliberate"
about Him, since it would mean "deliberation" about His
own being: -
. God is the Father of His Son
"by nature and not by will
. Whatever was "created," was indeed
created by the good will and deliberation of God. But the
Son is not a deed of will, like creatures, but by nature is an
offspring of God's own substance:
, ,
. It is an insane arid
extravagant idea to put "will" and "counsel" between th
Father and the Son (III 60, 61, 62).
Let us summarize. The theological writings of St. Athan-
asius were mainly occasional tracts, tracts for the time. He
was always discussing certain particular points, the burning
issues of the current debate. He was interpreting contro-
versial texts of the Scripture, pondering and checking phrase-
ology, answering charges, meeting objections. He never had
time or opportunity for a dispassionate and systematic ex-
position. Moreover, the time for systems had probably not
yet come. But there was a perfect consistency and coherence
in his theological views. His theological vision was sharp
and well focused. His grasp of problems was unusually
sure and firm. In the turmoil of a heated debate he was
able to discern clearly the real crux of the conflict. From
tradition St. Athanasius inherited the catholic faith in the
Divinity of the Logos. This faith was the true pivot of his
theological thought. It was not enough to correct exegesis,
to improve terminology, to remove misunderstandings. What
needed correction, in the age of St. Athanasius, was the
total theological perspective. It was imperative to establish
''Theology/' that isthe doctrine of God, on its proper
ground. The mystery of God, ' Three in One/' had to be
apprehended in itself. This was the main preoccupation of
St. Athanasius in his great "Discourses." Pre Louis Bouyer,
in his admirable book on St. Athanasius, has rightly stated
that, in the "Discourses," St. Athanasius forces the reader
"to contemplate the Divine life in God Himself, before it is
communicated to us." This was, according to Pre Bouyer,
the main emphasis in the book. In this perspective one can
see the radical difference between the Divine and the
creaturely. One sees the absoluteness of the Divine transcen-
dence: God does not need His creatures. His own Being is
perfect and complete in itself. And it is this inner Being of
God that is disclosed in the mystery of the Trinity.
20
But the
actual mystery is double. There is, indeed, the mystery of
the Divine Being. But there is another concomitant mystery,
the mystery of Creation, the mystery of the Divine -
. No real advance can be achieved in the realm of
'Theology" until the realm of "Oikonomia" had been pro-
perly ordered. This, surely, was the reason why St. Athana-
sius addressed himself to the problem of Creation even in
his early treatises, which constituted, in a sense, his theo-
logical confession. On the one hand, the meaning of the
redemptive Incarnation could be properly clarified only in
the perspective of the original creative design of God. On
the other, in order to demonstrate the absolute sovereignty
of God it was necessary to show the ultimate contingency
of the created Cosmos, fully dependent upon the Will of
God. In the perspective of the Arian controversy two tasks
were closely related to each other: to demonstrate the
mystery of the Divine Generation as an integral feature of
the Divine Being itself, and to emphasize the contingency
of the creaturely Cosmos, which contingency can also be
seen in the order of existence. It was precisely in the light
of this basic distinctionbetween "Being" and "Will"
that the ultimate incommensurability of the two modes of
existence could be clearly exhibited. The inner life of God
is in no way conditioned by His revelatory self-disclosure
in the world, including the design of Creation itself. The
world is, as it were, a paradoxical "surplus" in the order of
existence. The world is "outside" God; or rather it is pre-
cisely this "outside" itself. But it does exist, in its own mode
60
t
Aspects of Church History
and dimension. It arises and stands only by the will of God.
It has a beginning precisely because it is contingent, and
moves toward an end for which it has been designed by
God. The Will of God is manifested in the temporal pro-
cess of the Divine . But God's own Being is
immutable and eternal. The two modes of existence, the
Divine and the creaturely, can be respectively described as
"necessary" and "contingent," or "absolute" and "condi-
tional," or else, in the apt phraseology of a distinguished
German theologian of the last century, F. A. Staudenmeier,
as das Nicht-nicht-seyn-knnende and das Nicht-seyn-kn-
nende. This corresponds exactly to the distinction between
the Divine Being and the Divine Will.
21
This distinction
was made and consistently elaborated, probably for the first
time in the history of Christian thought, in the heat of the
Arian debate by St. Athanasius of Alexandria. It was a
step beyond Origen. St. Athanasius was not only an expert
controversialist, but a great theologian in his own right.
I l l
The Athanasian distinction between "Generation" and
"Creation," with all its implications, was already commonly
accepted in the Church in his own time. A bit later, St.
Cyril of Alexandria simply repeated his great predecessor.
Indeed, his Thesaurus de sancta et consulstantiali Trinitate
depended heavily upon the Athanasian "Discourses."
22
Only
instead of "will" and "deliberation," St. Cyril spoke of
Divine "energy": ,
* o
{Thesaurus, ass. 18, PG 75, 313; cf. ass. 15, PG 75, 276:
. . .
( ) . . . -
; also ass. 32, PG 75, 564-565). And finally, St.
John of Damascus, in his great Exposition of the Orthodox
Faith, repeated St. Cyril. "For we hold that it is from Him,
that is, from the Father's nature, that the Son is generated.
And unless we grant that the Son co-existed from the
beginning with the Father, by Whom He was begotten, we
introduce change into the Father's subsistence, because, not
being the Father, He subsequently became the Father. For
the creation, even though it originated later, is nevertheless
not derived from the essence of God, but is brought into
existence out of nothing by His will and power, and change
does not touch God's nature. For generation means that the
begetter produces out of his essence offspring similar in
essence. But creation and making mean that the creator and
maker produces from that which is external, and not of his
own essence, a creation which is of an absolutely dissimilar
nature." The Divine Generation is an effect of nature,
. Creation is, on the contrary, an
act of decision and will (De fide orth.
I 8, PG 94, 812-813). This antithesis: and
or is one of the main distinctive marks,
of Eastern theology.
23
It was systematically elaborated
once more in late Byzantine theology, especially in the
theology of St. Gregory Palamas (1296-1359). St. Gregory
contended that unless a clear distinction had been made
between the "essence" and "energy" in God, one could not
distinguish also between "generation" and "creation."
24
And
once again this was emphasized, somewhat later, by St. Mark
of Ephesus.
25
It was a true Athanasian motive, and his argu-
ments again came to the fore.
Now, the question arises: Is the distinction between
"Being" and "Acting" in God, or, in other terms, between
the Divine "Essence" and "Energy," a genuine and onto-
logical distinctionin re ipsa; or k it merely a mental or
logical distinction, as it were, * /, which should
not be interpreted objectively, lest the Simplicity of the
Divine Being is compromised.
26
There cannot be the slightest
doubt that for St. Athanasius it was a real and ontological
difference. Otherwise his main argument against the Arians
would, have been invalidated and destroyed. Indeed, the
mystery remains. The very Being of God is "incomprehen-
sible * for the human intellect: this was the common con-
viction of the Greek Fathers in the Fourth centurythe
Cappadocians, St. John Chrysostom, and others. And yet
there is always ample room for understanding. Not only do
we distinguish between "Being" and "Will"; but it is not
the same thing, even for God, "to be" and "to act." This
was the deepest conviction of St. Athanasius.
An Introduction
F
UR "LAST THINGS" are traditionally listed: Death, Judg-
ment, Heaven, and Hell. These four are "the last things
of man." And there are four "last things" of mankind:
the Last Day, the Resurrection of the Flesh, the Final Judg-
ment, and the End of the World.
1
The major item, however,
is missing in this listing, namely "the Last Adam," Christ
Himself, and His Body, the Church. For indeed Eschatology
is not just one particular section of the Christian theological
system, but rather its basis and foundation, its guiding and
inspiring principle, or, as it were, the climate of the whole
of Christian thinking. Christianity is essentially eschatological,
and the Church is an "eschatological community," since
she is the New Testament, the ultimate and the final, and,
consequently, "the last."
2
Christ Himself is the last Adam be-
cause He is "the New Man" (Ignatius, Ephes. 20. 1). The
Christian perspective is intrinsically eschatological. "The
This article originally appeared in Studia Patristica, Vol. II, ed. Kurt
Aland and F. L. Cross (Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1956), 235-250. Reprinted
by permission of the author.
63
Old has passed away. Behold, the New has come.'* It was
precisely "in these last days" that God of the Fathers had
ultimately acted, once for all, once for ever. The "end"
had come, God's design of human salvation had been con-
summated (John 19.28, 30: ). Yet, this ultimate
action was just a new beginning. The greater things were
yet to come. The "Last Adam" was coming again. "And let
him who heareth say, Come." The Kingdom had been
inaugurated, but it did not yet come in its full power and
glory. Or, rather, the Kingdom was still to come,the King
had come already. The Church was still in via, and Christians
were still "pilgrims" and strangers in "this world." This
tension between "the Past" and "the Coming" was essential
for the Christian message from the very beginning. There
were always these two basic terms of reference: the Gospel
and the Second Advent. The story of Salvation was still in
progress. But more than a "promise" had been granted unto
the Church. Or, rather, "the Promise of the Father" was the
Holy Spirit, which did come and was abiding in the Church
for ever. The Kingdom of the Spirit had been already
inaugurated. Thus, the Church was living in two dimensions
at once. St. Augustine describes this basic duality of the
Christian situation in a remarkable passage of his "Com-
mentary" on the Gospel of St. John, interpreting the XXIst
chapter. "There are two states of life that are known to the
Church, preached and commended to herself from heaven,
whereof one is of faith, the other of sight. Onein the
temporal sojourn in a foreign land, the other in the eternity
of the (heavenly) abode. Oneon the way, the otherin the
fatherland. Onein active work, the otherin the wages of
contemplation . . . The one is anxious with the care of con-
quering, the other is secure in the peace of victory . . . The
whole of the one is passed here to the end of this world,
and then finds its termination. The other is deferred for
its completion till after the end of this world, but has no
end in the world to come" (in Johan. tr. 124.5). Yet, it is
The Patristic Age and Eschatology: An Introduction 65
essentially the same Church that has this dual life, duas vitas.
This duality is signified in the Gospel story by two names:
Peter and John.
II
Christianity was recently described as an "experience of
novelty," a "Neuheitserlebnis," And this "novelty" was
ultimate and absolute. It was the Mystery of the Incarnation.
Incarnation was interpreted by the Fathers not as a meta-
physical miracle, but primarily as the solution of an existential
predicament in which mankind was hopelessly imprisoned,
i.e. as the Redemptive act of God. It was "for us men and
for our salvation" that the Son of God came down, and
was made man.
3
Redemption has been accomplished, once
for all. The union, or "communion," with God has been
re-established, and the power of becoming children of God
has been granted to men, through faith. Christ Jesus is the
only Mediator and Advocate, and His sacrifice on the Cross,
in ara crucis, was "a full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice,
oblation, and satisfaction." The human situation, has been radi-
cally changed, and the status of man also. Man was re-
adopted as the son of God in Christ Jesus, the Only Begotten
Son of God Incarnate, crucified and risen. The catholic
doctrine of the Incarnation, elaborated by the Fathers, from
St. Irenaeus to St. John of Damascus, emphasizes first of all
this aspect of finality and uniqueness, of accomplishment and
achievement. The Son of God "was made man" for ever.
The Son of God, "One of the Holy Trinity," is man, by the
virtue of the Incarnation, for ever and ever. The Hypostatic
Union is a permanent accomplishment. And the victory of
the Cross is a final victory. Again, the Resurrection of the
Lord is the beginning of the general resurrection. But pre-
cisely for these reasons the "History of Salvation" should
go and is going on. The doctrine of Christ finds its fulness
and completion in the doctrine of the Church, i.e. of "the
Whole Christ/'totus Christus, caput et corpus, to use the
glorious phrase of St. Augustine. And this immediately intro-
duces the historical duration. The Church is a growing body,
till she comes to "mature manhood/' / .
In the Church the Incarnate is unfailingly "present." It was
precisely this awareness of His abiding presence that neces-
sitated the orientation towards the future. It was in the
Church, and through the Church, that God was still pursuing
His redemptive purpose, through Jesus Christ, the Lord.
Again, the Church was a missionary body, sent into the
world to proclaim and to propagate the Kingdom, and the
"whole creation" was expected to share or to participate
in that ultimate "re-novation," which was already inaugu-
rated by the Incarnate Lord, and in Him. History was
theologically vindicated precisely by this missionary concern
of the Church. On the other hand, history, i.e. the "History
of Salvation," could not be regarded as an endless process.
The "End of times" and the "Consummation" were faith-
fully anticipated. "The End" was clearly predicted in the
Scriptures, as the Early Christians read them. The goal was
indeed "beyond history," but history was inwardly regulated
and organized precisely by this super-historical and transcen-
dent goal, by a watchful expectation of the Coming Lord.
Only an ultimate and final "con-summation," an ultimate
and final re-integration or "re-capitulation" could have given
meaning to the flux of happenings and events, to the dura-
tion of time itself. The strong corporate feeling compelled
the Early Christians to look for an ultimate and inclusive
integration of the Redemptive process in the Kingdom to
come. This was plainly stated already by Origen.
(t
Omne
ergo corpus Ecclesiae redimendum sperat Apostolus, nee
putat posse quae perfecta sunt dart singulis quibusdam
m em bris, nisi Universum corpus in unum fuerit congregatum"
{in Rom. VII. 5). History goes on because the Body has not
yet been completed. "The fulness of the Body" implies and
The Patristic Age and Eschatology; An Introduction 61
presupposes a re-integration of history, including the Old
dispensation, i.e. "the end." Or, in the phrase of St. John
Chrysostom, "then is the Head filled up, then is the Body
rendered perfect, when we are all together, all knit together
and united" {in Ephes. horn. Ill, ad I. 23) :Erit unus Christus,
amans seipsum (St. Augustine, in Ps. 26, sermo 2, n. 23).
The other reason for looking forward, to a future consum-
mation, was the firm and fervent belief in the Resurrection
of the dead. In its own way it was to be a "re-integration"
of history. Christ is risen indeed, and the sting of death has
been taken away. The power of death was radically broken,
and Life Eternal manifested and disclosed, in Christo. The
"last enemy," however, is still active in the world, although
death does not ''reign" in the world any more. The victory
of the Risen Christ is not yet fully disclosed. Only in the
General Resurrection will Christ's redemptive triumph be
fully actualized. "Expectandum no bis etiam et cor port s ver
est" (Miiiucius Felix, Octavius, 34). This was the common
conviction of the Patristic age, from Athenagoras and St.
Irenaeus and up to St. John of Damascus. St. Athanasius
was most emphatic on this point, and St. Gregory of Nyssa
also. Christ had to die in order to abrogate death and cor-
ruption by His death. Indeed, death was that "last enemy"
which he had to destroy in order to redeem man out of
corruption. This was one of the main arguments of St. Atha-
nasius in his De Incarnatione. "In order to accept death
He had a body" (de incarn. 21). And St. Gregory of Nyssa
says the same: "if one inquires into the mystery, he will say
rather, not that death happened to Him as a consequence
of birth, but that birth itself was assumed on the account of
death" (orat. cat. 32). Or in the sharp phrase of Tertullian:
Christus mort missus, nasci quoque necessario habuit, ut mori
posset (de carne Christi, 6) . The bodily Resurrection of man
was one of the main aims of Redemption. The coming and
general Resurrection will not be just a "re-statement" to the
previous condition. This would have been rather an "im-
mortalization of death," as St. Maximus sharply pointed
out (epist. 7). The coming Resurrection was conceived rather
as a new creative act of God, as an integral and compre-
hensive "re-novation** of the whole Creation. "Behold, I
make all things new/' In the phrase of St. Gregory of
Nazianzus, it was to be the third and final "transformation"
of human life ( " " ) , completing and super-
seding the two previous, the Old and the New testaments,
a concluding eschatological {orat. theol. V. 25).
Il l
The new vision of human destiny, in the light of Christ,
could not be accurately and adequately expressed in the
terms of the current philosophies of that time. A new set
of concepts had to be elaborated before the Christian belief
could be fully articulated and developed into a coherent
system of theological propositions. The problem was not
that of adjustment, but rather of a radical change of the basic
habits of mind. Greek Philosophy was dominated by the
ideas of permanence and recurrence. In spite of the great
variety of trends, a common pattern can be detected in all
systems. This was a vision of an "eternal" Cosmos. Every-
thing which was worthy of existence had to have actually
existed in the most perfect manner before all time, and
nothing could be added to this accomplished fulness. No
basic change was possible, and no real "novelty" could ever
emerge. The whole, the Cosmos, was perfect and complete,
and nothing could be perfected or completed. There could
be but a disclosure of the pre-existing fulness. Aristotle
made this point with a complete frankness. "What is 'of
necessity' coincides with what is 'always', since that which
'must be' cannot possibly 'not-be'. Hence a thing is eternal if
its 'being' is necessary; and if it is eternal, its 'being' is
necessary. And if, therefore, the 'coming-to-be' of a thing is
necessary, its 'coming-to-be' is eternal; and if eternal, neces-
sary. It follows that the 'coming-to-be' of anything, if it is
absolutely necessary, must be cyclical, i.e. must return upon
itself . . . It is in circular movement therefore, and in cyclical
'coming-to-be', that the 'absolutely necessary' is to be found"
(de gen. et corr. II. 2, 338a). The argument is perfectly
clear. If there is any "sufficient reason" for a certain thing
to exist ("necessity"), this reason must be "eternal," i.e.
there can be no reason whatever, why this thing should not
have existed "from eternity," since otherwise the reason for
its existence could not have been "sufficient" or "necessary."
And consequently "being" is simply "necessary." No increase
in "being" is conceivable. Nothing truly real can be "in-
novated." The true reality is always "behind" ("from eterni-
ty"), and never "ahead." Accordingly, the Cosmos is a
periodical being, and there will be no end of cosmic "re-
volutions." The highest symbol of reality is exactly the
recurrent circle. The cosmic reality, of which man was but a
part, was conceived as a permanent cyclical process, enacted,
as it were, in an infinite series of self-reproducing instalments,
of self-reiterating circles. Only the circle is perfect.
4
Obviously,
there was no room for any real "eschatology" in such a
scheme. Greek Philosophy indeed was always concerned
rather with the "first principles" than with the "last things."
The whole conception was obviously based on astronomical
experience. Indeed, the celestial movements were periodical
and recurrent. The whole course of rotation would be accom-
plished in a certain period ("the Great Year"), and then
will come a "repetition," a new and identical cycle or circle.
There was no "pro-gress" in time, but only eternal returns, a
"cyclophoria."
5
Time itself was in this scheme but a rotation,
a periodical reiteration of itself. As Plato put it in the
Timaeus, time "imitates" eternity, and rolls on according
to the laws of numbers (38a, b), and in this sense it can be
called "a mobile image of eternity" (37 d) . In itself, time
is rather a lower or reduced mode of existence. This idea of
the periodical succession of identical worlds seems to be
traditional in Greek Philosophy. The Pythagoreans seem
to have been the first to profess an exact repetition. With
Aristotle this periodical conception of the Universe took a
strict scientific shape and was elaborated into a coherent
system of Physics. Later on this idea of periodical returns
was taken up by the Stoics. They professed the belief in
the periodical dissolution and "rebirth" of all things, -
, and then every minute detail will be exactly repro-
duced. This return was what the Stoics used to call the
"Universal Restoration/' .
And this was obviously an astronomical term.
6
There was a
kind of a cosmic perpetuum mobile, and all individual
existences were hopelessly or inextricably involved in this
cosmic rotation, in these cosmic rhythms and "astral courses"
(this was precisely what the Greeks used to call "destiny"
or fate, , vis positionis astrorum). The Universe
itself was always numerically the same, and its laws were
immutable and invariable and each next world therefore will
exactly resemble the earlier ones in all particulars. There
was no room for history in this scheme. "Cyclical motion
and the transmigration of souls is not history. It was a
history built on the pattern of astronomy, it was indeed itself
a kind of astronomy."
7
Already Origen protested most
vigorously against this system of cosmic bondage. "If this
be true, then free will is destroyed" {contra C el sum,
IV. 67 etc.; cf. V. 20-21). Oscar Cullmann, in his renowned
book, Christus und die Zeit, has well depicted the radical
divergence between the "circular" concept of time in Greek
thought and the "linear" concept in the Bible and in Christian
doctrine. The ancient Fathers were fully aware of this diver-
gence. Circuit us Uli jam explosi sunt, exclaims St. Augustine.
Let us fellow Christ, "the right way," and turn our mind
away from the vain circular maze of the im^iou.s.Viam
rectam sequentes quae no bis est Christus. Eo duce et salvatore,
a vano et inept impiorum circuitu it er fidei mentemque
avertamus {de Civ. Dei, XII. 20).Now, this circular con-
ception of the Universe, as * 'a periodical being/' was closely
connected with the initial conviction of the Greeks that the
Universe, the Cosmos, was "eternal," i.e. had no beginning,
and therefore was also "immortal," i.e. could have no end.
The Cosmos itself was> in this sense, "Divine." Therefore,
the radical refutation of the cyclical conception was possible
only in the context of a coherent doctrine of Creation.
Christian Eschatology does inextricably depend upon an
adequate doctrine of Creation. And it was at this point that
Christian thought encountered major difficulties.
8
Origen was
probably the first to attempt a systematic formulation of
the doctrine of Creation. But he was, from the outset,
strongly handicapped by the "hellenistic" habits of his mind.
Belief in Creation was for him an integral article of the
Apostolic faith. But from the absolute "perfection" of God
he felt himself compelled to deduce the "eternity" of the
world. Otherwise, he thought, it would be necessary to
admit some changes in God Himself. In Origen's conception,
the Cosmos is a kind of an eternal companion of God. The
Aristotelian character of his reasoning at this point is obvious.
Next, Origen had to admit "cycles" and a sort of rotation,
although he plainly rejected the iterative character of the
sucessive "cycles." There was an unresolved inconsistency in
his system. The "eternity" of the world implied an infinite
number of "cycles" in the past, but Origen was firmly con-
vinced that this series of "cycles" was to come to an end,
and therefore there had to be but a finite number of "cycles"
in the future. Now, this is plainly inconsistent. On the other
hand, Origen was compelled to interpret the final "con-sum-
mation" as a "re-turn" to the initial situation, "before all
times." In any case, history was for him, as it were, un-
productive, and all that might be "added" to the prexistent
reality had to be simply omitted in the ultimate summing
up, as an accidental alloy or vain accretion. The fulness
of Creation had been realized by the creative fiat "in eternity"
once for all. The process of history could have for him but
a "symbolic" meaning. It was more or less transparent for
these eternal values. All links in the chain could be inter-
preted as signs of a higher reality. Ultimately, all such signs
and symbols will pass away, although it was difficult to see
why the infinite series of "cycles" should ever end. Never-
theless, all signs have their own function in history. Events,
as temporal happenings, have no permanent significance.
The only valid interpretation of them is "symbolical." This
basic assumption led Origen into insuperable difficulties in
Christology. Could the Incarnation itself be regarded as a
permanent achievement, or rather was it no more than an
"episode" in history, to be surpassed in "eternity"? More-
over, "manhood" itself, as a particular mode of existence,
was to be interpreted precisely as an "episode," like all
differentiation of beings. It did not belong to the original
plan of Creation and originated in the general disintegration
of the Fall. Therefore, it was bound to disappear, when the
whole of Creation is restored to its initial integrity, when
the primordial world of pure spirits is re-stated in its original
splendor. History simply has nothing to contribute to this
ultimate "apocatastasis."-Now, it is easy to dismiss this
kind of Eschatology as an obvious case of "acute Hel-
lenization." The true historical situation, however, was much
more complex. Origen was wrestling with a real problem.
His "aberrations" were in fact the birth-pangs of the Christian
mind. His own system was an abortive birth. Or, to change
the metaphor, his failures themselves were to become sign-
posts on the road to a more satisfactory synthesis. It was in
the struggle with Arianism that the Fathers were compelled
to a clear conception of "Creation," as distinguished from
other forms of "becoming" and "being." The contribution
of St. Athanasius was decisive at this point. St. Augustine,
from another point of view, was wrestling with the same
problem, and his discovery that Time itself had to be
regarded as a creature was one of the most relevant achieve-
The Patristic ge and Eschatology: An Introduction 73
ments of Christian thought. This discovery liberated this
thought from the heavy heritage of Hellenistic habits.
And a safe foundation was laid for the Christian theology
of History.
IV
No comprehensive integration of human existence is pos-
sible without the Resurrection of the dead. The unity of
mankind can be achieved only if the dead rise. This was
perhaps the most striking novelty in the original Christian
message. The preaching of the Resurrection as well as the
preaching of the Cross was foolishness and a stumbling-
block to the Gentiles. The Christian belief in a coming Resur-
rection could only confuse and embarrass the Greeks. It
would mean for them simply that the present imprisonment j
in the flesh will be renewed again and forever. The expecta-
tion of a bodily resurrection would befit rather an earthworm,
suggested Celsus, and he jeered in the name of common
sense. He nicknamed Christians "a flesh-loving crew/' -
, and treated the Docetists with far greater
sympathy and understanding (apud Origen, contra Celsum,
V. 14; VII. 36, 39). Porphyrius, in his "Life of Plotinus,"
tells that Plotinus, it seemed, "was ashamed to be in the
flesh," and with this statement he begins his biography.
"And in such a frame of mind he refused to speak either of
his ancestors or parents, or of his fatherland. He would not
sit for a sculptor or painter." "It was absurd to make a
permanent image of this perishable frame. It was already
enough that we should bear it now" (Life of Plotinus, 1).
This philosophical asceticism of Plotinus should be distin-
guished from Oriental dualism, Gnostic or Manichean. Ploti-
nus himself wrote very strongly "against Gnostics." Yet, it
was rather a difference of motives and methods. The practical
issue in both cases was one and the samea "flight" or
"retreat" from this corporeal world, an "escape" from the
body. Plotinus himself suggested the following simile. Two
men live in the same house. One of them blames the builder
and his handiwork because it is made of inanimate wood
and stone. The other praises the wisdom of the architect
because the building is so skillfully constructed. For Plotinus
this world was not evil, it was the "image" or reflection of
the world above, and probably the best of images. Still, one
had to aspire beyond all images, from the image to the
prototype. One should cherish not the copy, but the pattern
(V. 8.8). "He knows that when the time comes, he will go
out and will no longer have any need of a house." It is to
say that the soul was to be liberated from the ties of the body,
to be disrobed, and then only it could ascend to its proper
sphere (II. 9. 15). ' The true awakening is the true resur-
rection from the body, and not with the body/' -
, o ,since the body is
by nature opposite to the soul ( ) . A bodily
resurrection would be just a passage from one "sleep" to
another (III. 6. 6). The polemical turn of these phrases is
obvious. The concept of the bodily resurrection was quite
alien and unwelcome to the Greek mind. The Christian
attitude was just the opposite. "Not that we would be
unclothed, but that we would be clothed, so that what is mortal
may be swallowed up by life" (2 Cor. 5.4). St. Paul was
pleading for an (Rom.
8.23) .* As St. John Chrysostom commented on these passages,
one should clearly distinguish the body itself and "corrup-
tion." The body is God's creation, although it had been
corrupted. The "strange thing" which must be put off is
not the body, but corruption (de resurr, mortuor. 6). There
was a flagrant "conflict in anthropology" between the
Christian message and Greek wisdom. A new anthro-
pology had to be elaborated in order to commend the Chris-
tian hope of Resurrection to the Gentiles. In the last resort it
The Patristic Age and Eschatology: An Introduction
75
was Aristotle and not Plato who could offer help to Christian
philosophers. In the philosophical interpretation of its es-
chatological hope, Christian theology from the very beginning
clings to Aristotle/
0
Such a biased preference may appear to
be unexpected and strange. For, strictly speaking, in Aristotle
there was no room for any "after-death" destiny of man. In
his interpretation man was entirely an earthly being. Nothing
really human passes beyond the grave. Man is mortal
through and through. His singular being is not a person and
does not survive death. But yet in this weakness of Aristotle
was his strength. He had a real understanding of the unity
of human existence. Man was to him, first of all, an indi-
vidual being, a living unit. Man was one just in his duality,
as an "animated body," and two elements in him exist only
together, in a concrete and indivisible correlation. Soul and
body, for Aristotle they are not even two elements, which
are combined or connected with each other, but rather simply
two aspects of the same concrete reality. "Soul and body
together constitute the animal. Now it needs no proof that
the soul cannot be separated from the body" {de anima,
413a). Once the functional unity of the soul and body has
been broken by death, no "organism" is there any more,
the corpse is no more a body, and a dead man can hardly
be called man at all {meteor. IV. 12, 389b: -
; cf. de part. anim. 64l a). No "transmigra-
tion" of souls to other bodies was possible for Aristotle.
Each soul abides in its "own" body, which it creates and
forms, and each body has its "own" soul, as its vital principle,
ef
eidos" or form. This anthropology easily lends itself to a
biological simplification when man is almost completely
equated with any other living being. Such indeed was the
interpretation of many followers of the Stagirite, including
the famous Alexander of Aphrodisias. Aristotle himself has
hardly escaped these inherent dangers of his conception.
Of course, man was for him an "intelligent being," and
the faculty of thinking was his distinctive mark. But the
doctrine of does not fit very well into the general
frame of Aristotelian psychology, and probably is a
survival of his early Platonism. It was possible to adapt the
Aristotelian conception for Christian purposes, and this was
just what was done by the Fathers, but Aristotle himself
obviously "was not a Moslem mystic, nor a Christian theo-
logian."
11
The real failure of Aristotle was not in his
''naturalism/' but in that he could not admit any permanence
of the individual. But this was rather a common failure
of Greek philosophy. Beyond time Greek thought visu-
alized only the "typical," and nothing truly personal. Hegel
suggested, in his Aesthetics, that Sculpture gives the true key
to the whole of Greek mentality.
12
Recently, a Russian
scholar, A. Th. Lossev, pointed out that the whole of Greek
philosophy was just "a sculptural symbolism." He was
thinking especially of Platonism, but his suggestion has a
wider relevance. "Against a dark background, as a result
of an interplay of light and shadow, there stands out a
blind, colorless, cold, marble and divinely beautiful, proud
and majestic body, a statue. And the world is such a statue,
and gods are statues; the city-state also, and the heroes, and
the myths, and ideas; all conceal underneath them this
original sculptural intuition . . . There is no personality, no
eyes, no spiritual individuality. There is a 'something', but
not a 'someone', an individualized 'it', but no living person
with his proper name . . . There is no one at all. There are
bodies, and there are ideas. The spiritual character of
ideas is killed by the body, but the warmth of the body is
restrained by the abstract idea. There are here beautiful,
but cold and blissfully indifferent statues."
18
And yet Aristotle
did feel and understand the individual more than anyone
else in his tradition. He provided Christian philosophers
with all the elements out of which an adequate conception
of personality could be built up. His strength was just in
his understanding of the empirical wholeness of human
existence. Aristotle's conception was radically transformed
in this Christian adaptation, for new perspectives were
opened, and all the terms were given a new significance.
And yet one cannot fail to acknowledge the Aristotelian
origin of the main anthropological ideas in early Christian
theology. Such a christening of Aristotelianism we find
already in Origen, to a certain extent in St. Methodius of
Olympus as well, and later in St. Gregory of Nyssa, who
in his thrilling De Anima et Resurrectione attempted a
daring synthesis of Origen and Methodius. The break be-
tween the 'Intellect," impersonal and "eternal," and the
soul, individual but mortal, was overcome and healed in
the new self-consciousness of a spiritual personality. The
idea of personality itself was probably the greatest Christian
contribution to philosophy. And then the tragedy of death
could be visualized in its true dimension. For Plato and
Platonists death was just a welcome release out of the bodily
bondage, "a flight to the fatherland." For Aristotle and his
followers it was a natural end of earthly existence, a sad but
inevitable end, "and nothing is thought to be any longer
either good or bad for the dead" (ethic. Nicom. III. 6, III.
5a). For Christians it was a catastrophe, a frustration of
human existence, a reduction to a sub-fiuman state, abnormal
and rooted in the sinful condition of mankind, out of
which one is now liberated by the victory of Christ. The task
of Christian theologians was now to relate the hope of
Resurrection to the new conception of man. It is interesting
to observe that the problem was clearly seen and stated in
the first theological essay on the Resurrection which we
possess. In his brief treatise De resurrectione mortuorum,
Athenagoras of Athens begins with the plain statement that
"God gave independent being and life neither to the nature
of the soul itself, nor to the nature of the body separately,
but rather to men, composed of soul and body." There would
no longer be a man, if the completeness of this structure
were broken, for then the identity of the individual would
be broken also. "And if there is no resurrection, human
nature is no longer human" (de resurr, mort. 13, 15).
Aristotle concluded from the mortality of the body to the
mortality of the soul, which was but the vital power of the
body. Both go down together. Athenagoras, on the contrary,
infers the resurrection of the body from the immortality of
the reasonable soul. Both are kept together.
14
Thus, a safe
foundation was laid for further elaboration.
The purpose of this brief paper was not to give a com-
plete summary of the eschatological thought and teaching of
the Fathers. It was rather an attempt to emphasize the main
themes and the main problems with which the Fathers
had to wrestle. Again, it was also an attempt to show how
deeply and closely all eschatological topics are related to
the core of the Christian message and faith, to the Redemp-
tion of man by the Incarnate and Risen Lord. Only in this
wider perspective, in the total context of Christian doctrine,
can one fully and faithfully understand all the variations
of Patristic thought. The eschatological hope is rooted in
the faith, and cannot be understood except in this context.
The Fathers never attempted a systematic exposition of
Eschatology, in a narrow and technical sense. But they were
fully aware of that inner logic which had to lead from
the belief in Christ the Redeemer to the hope for the age to
come: the end of the world, the final consummation, the
resurrection of the dead, and life everlasting.
St. John Chrysostom:
The Prophet of Charity
/^HRYS OS TOM was a powerful preacher. He was fond of
preaching, and regarded preaching as the duty of a
Christian minister. Priesthood is authority, but it is authority
of word and conviction. This is the distinctive mark of
Christian power. Kings compel, and pastors convince. The
former act by orders, the latter by exhortations. Pastors
appeal to human freedom, to human will and call for.deci-
sions. As Chrysostom used to say himself, " We have to
accomplish the salvation of men by word, meekness, and
exhortation." The whole meaning of human life for Chrys-
ostom was in that it was, and had to be, a life in freedom,
and therefore a life of service. In his preaching he spoke
persistently about freedom and decision. Freedom was for
him an image of God in man. Christ came, as Chrysostom
used to remind, precisely to heal the will of man. God
always acts in such a way as not to destroy our own free-
dom. God Himself acts by calls and exhortations, not by
compulsion. He shows the right way, calls and invites,
and warns against the dangers of wickedness, but does not
This article originally appeared in St. Vladimir's Seminary Quarterly, IV,
Nos. 3/4 (1955), 37-42. Reprinted by permission of the author.
79
constrain. Christian pastors must act accordingly. By tempera-
ment, Chrysostom was rather a maximalist, sharp and
rigoristic, but he was always against compulsion, even in
the struggle with heretics. Christians are forbidden, he used
to insist, to apply violence even for good aims: ' Our
warfare does not make the living dead, but rather makes
the dead to live, because it is conducted in the spirit of
meekness and humility. I persecute by word, not by acts. I
persecute heresy, not heretics. It is mine more to be perse-
cuted, than to persecute. So Christ was victorious as a
Crucified, and not as a crucifier." The strength of Chris-
tianity was for him in humility and toleration, not in power.
One had to be strict about oneself, and meek to the others.
Yet, Chrysostom was in no sense a sentimental optimist.
His diagnosis of the human situation was stern and grim. He
lived in a time when the Church was suddenly invaded by
crowds of nominal converts. He had an impression that he
was preaching to the dead. He watched the lack of charity
and the complacent injustice and saw them almost in an
apocalyptic perspective: "We have quenched the zeal, and
the body of Christ is dead." He had an impression that
he was speaking to people for whom Christianity was just
a conventional fashion, an empty form, a manner and little
more: "Among the thousands one can hardly find more
than a hundred of them who are being saved, and even
about that I am doubtful." He was rather embarrassed by the
great number of alleged Christians: "an extra food for fire."
Prosperity was for him a danger, the worst kind of
persecution, worse than an open persecution. Nobody sees
dangers. Prosperity breeds carelessness. Men fall asleep, and
the devil kills the sleepy. Chrysostom was disturbed especially
by an open and deliberate lowering of standards and require-
ments, even among the clergy. Salt was losing its savour. He
reacted to this not only by a word of rebuke and reprimand,
but by deeds of charity and love. He was desperately
concerned with the renewal of society, with the healing of
St. John Chrysostom: The Prophet of Charity 81
social ills. He was preaching and practising charity, founding
hospitals and orphanages, helping the poor and destitute.
He wanted t recover the spirit of practising love. He wanted
more activity and commitment among Christians. Chris-
tianity for him was precisely "the Way," as it had been
sometimes described in Apostolic times, and Christ Him-
self was "the Way/' Chrysostom was always against all
compromises, against the policy of appeasement and adjust-
ment. He was a prophet of an integral Christianity.
Chrysostom was mainly a preacher of morality, but his
ethics was deeply rooted in the faith. He used to interpret
Scripture to his flocks, and his favorite writer was St. Paul.
It was in his epistles that one could see this organic con-
nection between faith and life. Chrysostom had his favorite
dogmatic theme, to which he would constantly return
first of all, the theme of the Church, closely linked to the
doctrine of Redemption, being the sacrifice of the High-
Priest Christ ; the Church is the new being, the life in Christ,
and the life of Christ in men. Secondly, the theme of
Eucharist, a sacrament and a sacrifice. It is but fair to call
Chrysostom, as he was actually called, "the teacher of
Eucharist," doctor eucharisticus. Both themes were linked
together. It was in the Eucharist, and through it
t
that the
Church could be alive.
Chrysostom was a witness of the living faith, and for that
reason his voice was so eagerly listened to, both in the East
and in the West; but for him, the faith was a norm of life,
and not just a theory. Dogmas must be practised. Chrysostom
was preaching the Gospel of Salvation, the good tidings
of the new life. He was not a preacher of independent
ethics. He preached Christ, and Him crucified and risen,
the Lamb and the High Priest. Right life was for him the
only efficient test of right beliefs. Faith is accomplished
in the deeds, the deeds of charity and love. Without love
faith, contemplation, and the vision of the mysteries of God
are impossible. Chrysostom was watching the desperate
struggle for truth in the society of his own days. He was
always concerned with living soults; he was speaking to
men, to living persons. He was always addressing a flock,
for which he felt responsibility. He was always discussing
concrete cases and situations.
One of his constant and favorite subjects was that of
wealth and misery. The theme was imposed or dictated by
the setting in which Chrysostom had to work. He had to
face the life in great and overcrowded cities, with all the
tensions between the rich and the poor. He simply could
not evade social problems without detaching Christianity
from life, but social problems were for him emphatically
religious and ethical problems. He was not primarily a
social reformer, even if he had his own plans for Christian
society. He was concerned with the ways of Christians in
the world, with their duties, with their vocation.
In his sermons we find, first of all, a penetrating analysis
of the social situation. He finds too much injustice, coldness,
indifference, and suffering and sorrow in the society of his
days. And he sees well to what extent it is connected with
the acquisitive character of the contemporary society, with
the acquisitive spirit of life. This acquisitive spirit breeds
inequality, and therefore injustice. He is not only upset by
fruitless luxury of life; he is apprehensive of wealth as a
standing temptation. Wealth seduces the rich. Wealth itself
has no value. It is a guise, under which the real face of man
is concealed, but those who hold possessions come to cherish
them, and are deceived; they come to value them and rely
on them. All possessions, not only the large ones, are
dangerous, in so far as man learns to rely upon what is, by
its very i>ature, something passing and unreal.
Chrysostom is very evangelical at this point. Treasures
must be gathered in heaven, and not on earth, and all
earthly treasures are unreal and doomed to corruption. "A
love for wealth is abnormal," says Chrysostom. It is just a
burden for the soul, and a dangerous burden. It enslaves
St. John Chrysostom: The Prophet of Chanty 83
the soul; it distracts it from the service to God. The Christian
spirit is a spirit of renunciation, and wealth ties man to
inanimate things. The acquisitive spirit distorts the vision,
perverts the perspective. Chrysostom is closely following the
injunctions of the Sermon on the Mount. "Do not be anxious
for your life, what you shall eat, nor for your body, what
you shall put on. . . " Life is greater than clothing or food,
but it is anxiety which is the prevailing temper of the
acquisitive society.
Christians are called to renounce all possessions and to
follow Christ in full confidence and trust. Possessions can
be justified only by their use: feed the hungry, help the
poor, and give everything to the needy. Hre is the main
tension, and the main conflict, between the spirit of the
Church and the mood of the worldly society. The cruel
injustice of actual life is the bleeding wound of this society.
In a world of sorrow and need, all possessions are wrong
they are just proofs of coldness, and symptoms of little
faith. Chrysostom goes so far as to denounce even the
splendor of the temples. "The Church," he says,*"is a tri-
umphant company of angels, and not a shop of a silversmith.
The Church claims human souls, and only for the sake of
the souls does God accept any other giits. The cup which
Christ offered to the disciples at the Last Supper was not
made of gold. Yet it was precious above all measure. If
you want to honor Christ, do it when you see Him naked,
in the person of the poor. No use, if you bring silk and
precious metals to the temple, and leave Christ to suffer cold
and nakedness in the outside. No use, if the temple is full
of golden vesselsj but Christ himself is starving. You make
golden chalices, but fail to offer cups of cold water to the
needy. Christ, as a homeless stranger, is wandering around
and begging, and instead of receiving Him you make decora-
tions."
Chrysostom was afraid that everything kept aside was in
a sense stolen from the poor. One cannot be rich, except at
the cost of keeping others poor. The root of wealth is always
in some injustice. Yet, poverty was not for Chrysostom
just a virtue by itself. Poverty meant for him first of all
need and want, and suffering and pain. For this reason
Christ can be found among the poor, and he comes to us
in the guise of a beggar, and not in that of a rich man.
Poverty is a blessing only when it is cheerfully accepted for
Christ's sake. The poor have less anxiety than the rich and
are more independentor at least may be. Chrysostom was
fully aware that poverty can be tempting too, not only as a
burden, but as an incentive of envy or despair. For that very
reason he wanted to fight poverty, in order not only to ease
the suffering, but to remove temptations also.
Chrysostom was always concerned with ethical issues.
He had his own vision of a just society, and the first pre-
requisite was, in his opinion, equality. It is the first claim of
any genuine love. But Chrysostom would go much further.
He felt that there was but one owner of all things in the
worldGod Himself, the Maker of all. Strictly speaking,
no private property should exist at all. Everything belongs to
God. Everything is loaned rather than given by God in trust
to man, for God's purposes. Chrysostom would add: Every-
thing is God's except the good deeds of manit is the only
thing that man can own. As everything belongs to God,
our common Master, everything is given for common use.
Is it not true even of worldly things ? Cities, market-places,
streetsare they not a common possession? God's economy is
of the same kind. Water, air, sun and moon, and the rest
of creation, are intended for common use. Quarrels begin
usually when people attempt to appropriate things which, by
their very nature, were not intended for the private possession
of some, to the exclusion of others.
Chrysostom had serious doubts about private property.
Does not strife begin when the cold distinction between
"mine" and "thine" is first introduced? Chrysostom was
concerned not so much with the results, as with causeswith
St. John Chrysostom: The Prophet of Charity 85
the orientation of the will. Where is man going to gather
his treasures ? Chrysostom was after justice in defense of
human dignity. Was not every man created in God's image?
Did God not wish salvation and conversion of every single
man, regardless of his position in life, and even regardless
of his behavior in the past? AH are called to repentance,
and all can repent. There was, however, no neglect of material
things in his preaching. Material goods come also from
God, and they are not bad in themselves. What is bad, is
only the unjust use of goods, to the profit of some, while
others are left starving. The answer is in love. Love is not
selfish, "is not ambitious, is not self-seeking." Chrysostom
was looking back to the primitive Church. "Observe the
increase of piety. They cast away their riches, and rejoiced,
and had great gladness, for greater were the riches they
received without labor. None reproached, none envied, none
grudged; no pride, no contempt. No talk of 'mine' and
'thine/ Hence gladness waited at their table; no one seemed
to eat of his own, or another's. Neither did they consider
their brethren's property foreign to themselves; it was a
property of the Master; nor again deemed they ought their
own, all was the brethren's/' How was this possible, Chrys-
ostom asks: By the inspiration of love, in recognition of
the unfathomable love of God.
In no sense was Chrysostom preaching "communism."
The pattern itself may be deceitful and misleading as any
other. The real thing is the spirit. What Chrysostom was
preaching in the cities, monks were fervently practising in
their communities, professing by deeds that God was the
only Master and owner of everything. Chrysostom did not
regard monastic life just as an advanced course for the
select, but rather as a normal evangelical pattern intended
for all Christian. At this point he was in full agreement with
the main tradition of the early Church, from St, Basil and
St. Augustine up to St. Theodore of Studium in the later
times. But the strength of monasticism is not in the pattern
86 Aspects f Church History
itself, but in the spirit of dedication, in the choice of a
"higher calling/' Was this calling only for the few? Chrys-
ostom was always suspicious of inequality. Was it not
dangerous to discriminate between the "strong" and the
"weak"? Who could judge and decide in advance? Chrys-
ostom was always thinking about real men. There was some
kind of individualism inherent in his approach to people,
but he valued unanimity most highlythe spirit of solidarity,
of common care and responsibility, the spirit of service. No
person can grow in virtue, unless he serves his brethren.
For that reason he always emphasized charity. Those who
fail to do charity will be left outside the bridal chamber
of Christ. It is not enough, he says, to lift our hands to
heavenstretch them to the needy, and then you will be
heard by the Father. He points out that, according to the
Parable of the Last Judgment, the only question which will
be asked then is that about charity. But again it was not just
a moralism with him. His ethics had an obvious mystical
depth. The true altar is the body of men itself. It is not
enough to worship at the altars. There is another altar made
of living souls, and this altar is Christ Himself, His Body.
The sacrifice of righteousness and mercy should be offered
on this altar too, if our offerings are to be acceptable in
God's sight. The deeds of charity had to be inspired by the
ultimate dedication and devotion to Christ, who came into
the world to relieve all want, and sorrow, and pain.
Chrysostom did not believe in abstract schemes; he had
a fiery faith in the creative power of Christian love. It was
for that reason that he became the teacher and prophet for
all ages in the Church. In his youth he spent some few
years in the desert, but would not stay there. For him
monastic solitude was just a training period. He returned
to the world to proclaim the power of the Gospel. He was
a missionary by vocation; he had an apostolic and evangelistic
zal. He wanted to share his inspiration with his brethren.
He wanted to work for the establishment of God's Kingdom.
St. John Chrysostom: The Prophet of Chanty 87
He prayed for such things in common life so that nobody
would need to retire to the wilderness in search for perfection,
because there would be the same opportunity in the cities.
He wanted to reform the city itself, and for that purpose
he chose for himself the way of priesthood and apostolate.
Was this a Utopian dream ? Was it possible to reshape
the world, and to overrule the wordliness of the world? Was
Chrysostom successful in his mission ? His life was stormy
and hard, it was a life of endurance and martyrdom. He was
persecuted and rejected not by the heathen, but by false
brethren, and died homeless as a prisoner in exile. All he
was given to endure he accepted in the spirit of joy, as from
the hand of Christ, Who was Himself rejected and executed.
The Church gratefully recognized that witness and solemnly
acclaimed Chrysostom as one of the "ecumenical teachers"
for all ages to come.
There is some unusual flavor of modernity in the writings
of Chrysostom. His world was like ours, a world of tensions,
a world of unresolved problems in all walks of life. His
advice may appeal to our age no less than it did to his own.
But his main advice is a call to integral Christianity, in
which faith and charity, belief and practice, are organically
linked in an unconditional surrender of man to God's over-
whelming love, in an unconditional trust in His mercy, in an
unconditional committment to His service, through Jesus
Christ, our Lord.
The Anthropomorphites
in the Egyptian Desert
Part I
I
N HIS TENTH "Conference" John Cassian tells the story of
a certain Sarapion, a monk of high distinction: antiquis-
simae distinctionis atque in actuali disciplina per omnia
consummatus. By inadvertence, however, he lapsed into the
errors of the ''Anthropomorphites.'' It was a great scandal
in the community. All efforts were made to restore Sarapion
to the right way. It appears that the main issue involved
was that of certain devotional practices. But some points of
exegesis were also implied. At that time, a certain Photinus,
a deacon from Cappadocia and a man of profound learning,
was staying with the brethren. His testimony was sought
concerning the meaning of the scriptural phrase: man was
created "in the image and likeness of God." In an eloquent
and elaborate speech, Photinus explained that in the East
"all leaders of the churches" used to interpret this phrase
"spiritually"non secundum humilem litterae sonum, sed
This article originally appeared in Akten des XI Internationalen
Byzantinistenkongresses (Munich: Verlag C. H. Beck, 1958), 154-159.
Reprinted by permission of the author.
89
spiritualiter. Finally, Sarapion was persuaded to discontinue
his erroneous practices in worship. Yet he was sorely distres-
sed by the new method. He felt himself utterly confounded
and frustrated, when, as it is stated, "the anthropomorphic
image of the Godhead, which he used to set before him in
prayer, was removed from his heart/' In great despair,
prostrating himself on the ground, weeping and groaning,
he complained: "they have taken my God from me, and
I have now none to behold, and whom to worship and address
I know not"tulerunt a me Deum meum, et quern nunc
teneam non habeo pel quem adorem aut interpellem jam
nescio {Coll. X. 3, p. 288-289 Petschenig).
What is the meaning of this striking episode? What
were, in fact, those "anthropomorphite" practices to which
the unfortunate Sarapion had been addicted, and which he
was dissuaded from employing? What was the point of his
distress and confusion?
Our information about the disputes in the Desert, be-
tween the "Origenists" and the alleged "Anthropomorphites,"
is scarce and biased. Indeed, it comes mainly from the
' Origenistic' * side. Cassian himself was strongly prejudiced
in his description of monastic Egypt. His great treatises, the
'Institutions" and the "Conferences" were written in order
to present a particular doctrine of spirituality, * Origenistic''
and Evagrian. The story in Socrates (VI. 7) and Sozomen
(VIII. 11-12) was derived probably from the oral reports,
and also gossip, circulated in Constantinople by the refugees
from Egypt, including the Tall Brothers, and also by Theo-
philus and his group (cf. Palladius, Dialogus, VII). These
reports, of course, were tendentiously unfair to the "Anthro-
pomorphites." Indeed, the name itself was a polemical
slogan, a derogatory label, invented in the heat of the strife
and used as a demagogical weapon. As Owen Chadwick has
said recently, "in Egypt 'anthropomorphite' is a malicious
term applied by their Origenistic opponents to the literalist
Egyptian majority."
1
Its purpose was not to define a group
91
properly, but to discredit it in advance. Indeed, the "Anthro-
pomorphite" monks in the Desert in no sense were a "sect/'
They had no relation whatever to the heretical sect of Au-
dians, which had spread in Mesopotamia and Syria and by
the time of John Cassian was already in steady decay (see
Epiphanius, Haeres. XXX). Nor should the "literalism" of
the alleged "Anthropomorphites" be attributed to their
"ignorance" and "simplicity." We are told, in the sources
available, about rude and rustic monks who, misled by their
crude understanding of certain passages of the Scripture,
came to conceive of God in material shape. This aspect of
the controversy is grossly misrepresented in our sources. No
doubt, "simple" and rustic people were numerous in the
monastic ranks, especially among those of Coptic origin,
hardly touched at all by any Greek learning. And certain
abuses, indeed, might have crept into their practices. But
the actual problem was much deeper and more complex than
that. The "Anthropomorphites" could quote in their support
an old and venerable tradition, which could not be summarily
discarded by the charge of "ignorance."
The story of Sarapion, in fact, is an integral part of that
great treatise on Prayer which Cassian presents in his ninth
and tenth "Conferences," on behalf of the Abbot Isaac. The
"Origenistic" character of this treatise is obvious, and close
parallels in Origen's writings can be easily found to every
point of the discourse. There are stages and grades in spiritual
growth. There is an ascension from earthly things to the
heavenly. There is an alternative between beholding Jesus
"still in His humility and in the flesbrhumilem adhuc et
carneumand contemplating Him in His Divine glory and
majesty. The former attitude is described as a kind of "Judaic
weakness"quodammodo ludaica infirmitate detenti. At this
point II Cor. 5. 16 is quoted: 'Those cannot see Jesus coming
in His Kingdom who are still kept in a state of Jewish
weakness, and cannot say with the Apostle: 'and if we have
known Christ after the flesh, yet now we know Him so no
more.' But only those can look with purest eyes on His
Godhead, who rise with Him from low and earthly works
and thoughts and g apart in the lofty mountain of solitude,
which is free from the disturbance of all earthly thoughts
and troubles/' The main emphasis in the argument is pre-
cisely at this point: "no more in the flesh" (Coll. I. 6, 291-
292 P) . Accordingly, not only all "images" of the Godhead
must be eliminated from prayer {nullam divinitatis effigiem
"which it is a sin even to mention"), but "one should not
admit any memory of something said, or any kind of a
deed, or an outline of any character"-ne ullam quidem in se
memoriam dicti cujusque vel facti speciem seu formant
cu)uslibet characteri admittet (X. 5, p. 291 P) . The phrase
is by no means clear. It refers primarily, of course, to the
katharsis of the mind, which must be ever cleansed from the
flux of fleeting thoughts and "images,"and this, indeed,
was Cassian's permanent concern in the whole system of
spiritual discipline. But more than that was obviously im-
plied in these strictures. No memoria dicti cu]usque, and no
species facti,these injunctions, if carried out strictly and con-
sistently, would exclude from prayer, especially at its climax,
also any reference to, and any link with, the scriptural
"image" of Christ Jesus, His own dicta axifacta, His saving
oikonomia "in the flesh." N more in the flesh . . . This
seems to have been the root of Sarapion's perplexity, which
could not be easily solved or calmed down by any exegetical
arguments. "They have taken away my God from me,"
he complained. Presumably, he was urged to abstain from
using in his devotions any mental image of "Jesus after the
flesh," as he was accustomed to do previously in order to
fix his attention in prayer and to know "whom to adore."
Such practice of his was, from the strict "Origenistic" point
of view, just a "Judaic weakness," a mark of imperfection.
But to dismiss this "anthropomorphic" image f the Saviour
meant for Sarapion to lose ground in prayer. "Whom should
I invoke now?"quern inter pell em nescio. Indeed, no crude
93
"anthropomorphism" was involved at this point. The basic
alternative in the argument of Abbot Isaac was between the
infirmitas ]udaica and the jam non. The main question seems
to have been about the Christological orientation in prayer.
To what extent, and in what manner, should prayer be con-
stantly anchored in the "memory" of the historic Jesus, of
Jesus "in the flesh"? In what manner, and to what extent,
should this historic "image" be permissibly "transcended" in
devotional practice and exercise? And this was, indeed, the
crucial problem of "Origenistic" spirituality, beginning with
Origen himself.
Now, Origen himself never denied that "history" had
to be the starting point, both in theology and in devotion.
But it had to be no more than a starting point. And one
inevitably moves away from the start more and more, while
one really progresses. The past events, even the events of
the Gospel story, must be left behind in this process of
spiritual climbingto the mountain of solitude. These
"images" must be transcended in the new "spiritual" vision.
One must not look back any more, but steadily forward, to
the glorious things to come. The ultimate goal of contempla-
tion, according to Origen, is the knowledge of the Father,
indeed, through the knowledge of the Son. But His historic
oiknomia
}
in "the flesh," must be transcended at this point.
In spite of all his ardent love for the Crucified Jesus, and
all his emphasis on the mystery of the Incarnation, on the
higher stages of contemplation Origen claims to move beyond
the Incarnation, in order that the Divine glory of the Son
would not be obscured by His oikonomia.
2
In this sense, the
"Christ-mysticism" was for Origen just a stage on the road
toward the "God-mysticism." "Die Christusmystik ist also
Durchgangsstadium zur Gottesmystik," as Walter Voelker
has well stated.
3
And here lies the major danger of "Origen-
ism." This danger is especially acute in the realm of devo-
tion. "Origenism" tends towards a certain "de-christologi-
zation" of worship. Devotion is no more focussed on the
historic oikonomia of salvation. This tendency is obvious in
John Cassian. As Owen Chadwick rightly observes, Cassian
is so much concerned with the method of contemplation that
he has but little to say about its actual object. "In these
monastic books we hear little, surprisingly little, of the
Gospel, of the earthly life of Jesus Christ, of the revelation
of God/'
4
The "simple," the simpliciores of Origen, utterly
resisted this tendency to move away from the "historic"
Gospel. And this was, probably, the true core of the "Anthro-
pomorphite" movement, or rather the "resistance-movement,"
in the Egyptian Desert. It was a striking example of that
conflict between the "faith of the people" and "learned
theology" which was one of the distinctive features of Chris-
tian life in the third century.
5
This tension continued in the
Nicene age. The ultimate mystery of the Christian faith is,
indeed, in that "God was manifest in the flesh." The truth
of this crucial "manifestation" is in no way contradicted by
that other truth that Christ "was received up into glory"
(I Tim. 3. 16).
The struggle against the "Anthropomorphites" was in-
itiated already by Origen himself: qui in Ecclesia positi
imaginem corpoream hominis Dei esse imaginent dicunt
(Comm. in Rom. 1. 19, MG XIV, c. 870-871). In his com-
mentary on Genesis Origen quotes Melito, as one of those
who were committed to this erroneous view. Judging by
Origen's rejoinder, we must conclude that Melito's main
argument was derived from the fact of corporeal theophanies
of the Old Testament and from the "anthropomorphic"
phraseology of the Bible (Selecta in Gen., ad 1. 26, quoted
by Theodoret, Lomm. VIII. 49-52). There is no text in the
extant writings of Melito to support that charge. And it
seems highly improbable that Melito was really so crudely
"anthropomorphite" as Origen's remarks seem to suggest.
He was probably close to that view which has been so
emphatically expounded by St. Irenaeus.* According to
Origen, that man which was created "in the image of God"
The Anthropomorphites in the Egyptian Desert 95
was not a "bodily man": hunc sane hominem . . . non intelli-
gimus corporalem. There is no "image of God" in the body,
but only in the soul of man. Only the "inner man" was
made "in the image": interior homo noster est, invisibilis, et
incorporalis, et incorruptus atque immortalis. Otherwise, one
might be tempted to attribute corporeal features to God
himself, as has been actually done by certain carnal men:
carnales isti homines qui intellectum divinitatis ignorant.
Indeed, the "image" in which man has been created was
the Son of God, our Saviour, who is "the firstborn of every
creature" (In Genes, horn. 1. 13, p. 15-18 Baehrens). For
Origen it only meant that all intellectual or "logical" beings
were made in the shape of the Divine Logos/ The same idea
has been quite differently elaborated by St. Irenaeus. Here
we have a clear opposition of two different views and
approaches. According to St. Irenaeus, man was indeed
shaped in the image of the Word. But Irenaeus refers here
to the Word Incarnate. Man was created in the image of the
Incarnate Word, as it were, by anticipation, or proleptically.
Accordingly, the bodily figment is also included in the
"image": car quae est plasmata secundum imaginem Dei...
imaginem hahens in plasmate. The whole man is created in
the "image of God" (Adv. haeres. V. 6. 1). "In the times
long past, it was said that man was created after the image
of God, but it was not yet manifested. For the Word was as
yet invisible, after whose image man was created. Wherefore
also man has easily lost the similitude. When, however, the
Word of God became flesh, He confirmed both these: for
He showed forth the true image, since He became Himself
what was His image; and He re-established the similitude
after a sure manner, by assimilating man to the invisible
Father through the means of the visible Word" (Adv. haeres.
V. 16. 2). This text is of capital importance. The "image
of God" in man has been fully manifested precisely through
the Incarnation, in the exemplary manhood of the Incarnate
God. In his catechetical treatise, St. Irenaeus is quite formal
and precise. "He gave his frame the outline of His own form
in order that even the visible appearance should be Godlike
for it was as an image of God that man was fashioned
and set on earth" (Demonstr. II, p. 54 Smith's translation).
"And the 'image' is the Son of God, in whose image man
was made. And therefore He was manifested in the last times
to show that the image was like unto Himself" (Demonstr.
22, p. 61 Smith). The concept of "image" has in St. Irenaeus
an obvious "somatic" connotation,"a strongly physical em-
phasis," in the phrase of David Cairns.
8
This emphasis is not
accidental for Irenaeus. It is directly related to his basic
idea of recapitulation. Indeed, the Word Incarnate, the
God-Man, is the center of his theological vision and scheme.
This emphasis encourages the use of "visible" and "somatic"
images in theological thought and language, without com-
mitting Christians to any "anthropomorphite" conception of
Divinity. The "image" is in the total structure of man; "like-
ness" is confined to his spiritual sphere.
9
The "Anthropomorphite" monks stood in a venerable
tradition. The conflict in the Desert was not just a clash
between the "ignorant" and the "learned." It was the conflict
between the two traditions: Evangelical realism and "Origen-
istic" symbolism.
Theophilus of Alexandria
and Apa Aphou of Pemdje
Part II
From the Harry Austryn Wolf s on Jubilee Volume (Jerusalem: American
Academy for Jewish Research, 1965), Vol. I, pp. 275-310. Reprinted by
permission of the author.
97
"LIFE OF BLESSED APHOU, " an Egyptian hermit and
JL eventually Bishop of Pemdje, or Oxyrhynchus, was pub-
lished for the first time by Eugene Revillout in 1883 from a j;
Turin manuscript. Revillout was aware of the historical value
of this hagiographical document and intended to discuss it in
detail. But his essay was never completed. He only printed
the Coptic text (in Sahidic), with a brief preface.
1
The
"Life" was republished again in 1886 by Francesco Rossi,
from the same Turin manuscript, together with an Italian
translation, but without any commentary or notes.
2
In the
same year V.V. Bolotov published a Russian translation of
Revillout's text, with an extensive introduction. Bolotov
stressed the interest of the document. "A modest hagiological
document of the Egyptian Church, the 'Life of Blessed
Aphou' must occupy, in our opinion, an important place in
the history of dogma: it throws a totally new and peculiar
light on the Anthropomorphite controversy (which developed
later into the Origenistic st ruggl e). . . . Only now the history
of the Anthropomorphites becomes really comprehensible."
Bolotov planned a special excursus on this particular topic,
but the second part of his article never appeared, and we
do not know what this great master had actually to say.
3
The only special study of the "Life" of Aphou is by E.
Drioton. He was interested primarily in the story of the
Anthropomorphites. In his article Drioton reprinted the
relevant part of the Coptic text* following Rossi's edition,
and also supplied a French translation.
4
Unfortunately,
Drioton was misguided by his gratuitous assumption that
Egyptian "Anthropomorphites" were actually Audians, and
this assumption marred considerably and distorted his analysis
of the text itself.
There is no adequate palographie description of the Turin
papyri, even in the catalogue of Rossi.
5
The date of the
manuscripts remains uncertain, and their origin is still rather
obscure. Indeed, the same may be said of many other col-
lections. Already Zoga, in his famous Catalogue of the
Borgian collection, complained: Quibus Aegypti locis quihusve
in bibliothecis olirn adservati fuerint codices, quorum frag-
menta sunt in museo Borgiano, plane ignoratur . . . Arabes ex
monasteriis (eos) rapuisse videntur vel potius in dirutorum
olim monasteriorum ruderibus invenisse... Hujusmodi fasci-
culi vere chaotici cum subinde ex Aegypto adveherentur
mihique ordinandi trader entur? In fact, the Turin papyri
were acquired somewhere by Bernardino Drovetti, the French
consul in Egypt, and then purchased for the Turin museum.
7
Amedeo Peyron, the first to handle the manuscripts, soon
after they were brought to Turin in 1821, had very little to
say. They were in miserable condition, sorely mutilated and
even torn to small piecespiccolissimi pezzi. For transporta-
tion they were carelessly packed in a boxquam cum
aperuissem infandam vidi ac deploravi papyrorum cladem,
exclaims Peyron. Peyron was able, however, to fit the scat-
tered fragments together, and fixed them on transparent
sheets
8
Unfortunately, varnish used for fixation deteriorated
with time, the paper grew even more fragile, and the text
did not read easily. This was one of Rossi's reasons for
precipitating the publication.
9
Among the papyrien tte de la masse de ces papyres
Revillout found an interesting note, on a separate scrap of
paper. It appears that these papers were once deposited by
a certain pious lady, whose name is known to God, "in this
place of St. John the Baptist/' with the intention that prayers
should be said for her and for her family. No date is given,
and it is not certain at all whether this note refers to the
whole collection or only to some particular documents in it.
One must recall that the documents came to Turin in a poor
and confused state, and in complete disorder. Revillout,
however, took for granted that the whole collection, as we
know it now, was deposited at St. John's already in the first
decades of the fifth century, or, in any case, before the
Schism.
10
The Church of St. John in Alexandria is, of course,
the famous Serapeum. It was made into a church under
Theophilus, and in 398 the relics of St. John the Baptist
were transferred to the new martyrion. For that reason the
church came to be known under the name of St. John. There
was a library in this church.
11
Now, it seems that the Turin
papyri are of a later date, probably of the seventh century.
12
In this case the dating of Revillout is untenable.
Bolotov contested the early dating for other reasons.
Certain documents in the collection seem to be of a later
date, as, for instance, a spurious "Life" of St. Athanasius.
Again, it is hardly probable that numerous homilies of St.
John Chrysostom (authentic or spurious) could be included
in an Alexandrinian collection in the times of St. Cyril and
Dioscoros. Bolotov suggested that the Drovetti collection was,
in fact, a part of a Coptic Menologion, or Lectionary, com-
piled in some monastery. The part preserved covers the
months tout and paopi,that is, the first months of the
liturgical year. The "Life of Blessed Aphou" is to be read
on the 21st day of the month tout, which corresponds to
September 18. Now, Zoga already has shown that most of
the Memphitic (or Bohairic) documents in the Borgian and
\^atican collections were actually but disjecta membra of a
Lectionary, which originated in the monastery of St. Macarius
in Scete: olim pertinuisse videantur ad lectionarium, quod
secundum menses diesque digestum adservabatur in mon-
asterio S. Macarii in Scetis.
13
Bolotov suggested that a similar
Lectionary, or Menologion, existed also in Sahidic. In its
content and composition it seems to have differed consider-
ably from the Macarian version. In any case, the names of
Aphou and some others do not occur at all in the later
Synaxaria of the Coptic Church in Arabic.
14
At any rate,
particular documents in the Menologion can easily be of
quite different dates, including some early material. But the
whole collection, the Menologion as such, could hardly have
been completed by 444 or 451, as Revillout contended.
15
Thus, the date of each particular document must be
examined separately. The date of the collection may only
provide the ultimate terminus ante quern. And, in our case,
when precisely this date is doubtful and uncertain, it is
rather irrelevant.
Now, the "Life of Blessed Aphou" was written some
time after his death, but hardly by a close contemporary,
although still at a time when memories of the saint were
fresh. The style of the writer is both naive and pathetic, but
plain and sober, without legendary adornments and without
any emphasis on the miraculous, which are so characteristic
of later Coptic hagiography. Bolotov regarded the "Life"
as generally reliable.
16
Drioton was of the same opinion: le
papyrus porte en lui-mme un cachet indubitable d'historicit,
Drioton suggested that the unknown hagiographer might
have had at his disposal certain official documents; his
description of the dispute between Aphou and Theophilus
was based probably on an official record taken formally by
an episcopal clerk: un procs-verbal de quelque notaire
episcopal. On the other hand, the writer was unaware of that
complex and controversial situation in which the dispute had
taken place and therefore had no incentive to be tendentious:
he had a "blind accuracy"une exactitude aveugle, as Drioton
puts it.
17
It may be added that his description of Aphou's
episcopate, in the final section of the "Life," has the character
of an historic narrative.
The only safe date in the biography of Aphou is that
of his disputation with Theophilus. It could have taken
place only in 399. At that time Aphou was already an aged
man, a renowned hermit. According to the "Life," three years
later he was made bishop by Theophilus, and his episcopate
seems to have been of considerable duration. He died as an
old man. This would bring us at least into the second decade
of the fifth century. The "Life" seems to have been written
in a day when the turbulent events of the times of Theophilus
had been forgotten in monastic circles. Some time must have
elapsed before the "Life" could be included in a Menologion.
Thus, it seems most probable that the whole collection was
completed in the later part of the fifth century.
II
Aphou was conspicuously a simple and rustic man: his
conversation was "with the wild beasts." He did not dwell
with the people and rigorously avoided their company. Only
on the day of Easter he used to appear in the city, at
Oxyrhynchus, "to hear the preaching" in the church. He led
a solitary life, among the beasts, and they were friends to-
getherthe hermit and the beasts. The beasts were even
looking after him. In winter time they would gather around
him and warm him with their breathing. They would even
bring him food. When, later in life, Aphou was nominated
by Theophilus for the episcopal office in Oxyrhynchus, he
could not be found. People in the city did not know him.
They asked local monks about him, and one of the monks
happened to have known him before. He suggested that
Aphou must be in the wilderness, as "he did not dwell with
men, but with the beasts," and warned in advance that
Aphou, surely, would run away if he was told the reason
for which he was sought. Finally, Aphou was caught in the
net which hunters had set for the beasts. So much we learn
from the "Life of Blessed Aphou." The picture is at once
coarse and idyllic.
An interesting episode is included in the Narratio Eze-
chielis monachi de vita magistri sui Vault. The Coptic text
was published already by Zoga with a Latin paraphrase,
from a Borgian manuscript, and was republished once more
by Amlineau, who also supplied a French translation.
18
Apa
Paul of Tamwah (or Thmoui) was notorious for his ascetical
excesses, of an almost suicidal character. He dwelt on the
Mount of Antinoe. In his later years Paul was intimately
associated with Apa Bishai ( = Psois), one of the earliest
settlers in Scete and the founder of one of the main
monasteries there.
19
Ezechiel, a close disciple of Apa Paul,
wrote a description of their common journey in the desert, in
the course of which they met Aphou. Amlineau was inclined
to disavow the narrative as a fiction, un livre de pure imagina-
tion. The name of Ezechiel was just a disguise, and the story
was compiled much later. Amlineau admitted, however, that
certain features in the story were of real interest for the
history of ideas.
20
Now, whatever may be said about the
literary form of the narrative, there is no valid reason to
deny its realistic core. The journey in the desert may be a
literary device, a means to chain together various dicta and
episodes, but dicta and episodes may still be genuine and
authentic. At the present we are concerned only with one
episode in the story of Ezechiel, the meeting of Apa Paul
with Apa Aphou. We have here a close parallel to the "Life/'
We travelled southward from Mount Terab until
we came to Mount Terotashans, south of Kos. We
found some antelopes down in the valley, and in
their midst was a monk. My father went forward,
greeted him, and said to him, "What is your name?"
He said, "My name is Aphou. Remember me, my
father, Apa Paul, and may the Lord bring my life
to a good finish." My father said to him, "How
many years have you been in this place?" He said,
"Fifty-four years." My father then said, "Who
placed the scheme upon you?" He said, "Apa Anto-
nios of Scete." My father said to him, "How have
you lived, travelling with these antelopes?" He said,
"My nourishment and that of these antelopes is the
same nourishment, namely the plants of the field
and these vegetables." My father said to him, "Do
you not freeze in the winter or roast in the sum-
mer?" He said to him, "When it is winter, I sleep
in the midst of these antelopes, and they warm
me with the vapor which is in their mouth. When
it is summer, they gather together and stand and
make shade for me, so that the heat should not
bother me." My father said to him, "Truly are
you given the epithet: Apa Aphou the Antelope."
At that moment a voice came to us saying, "This
is his name unto all the rest of the eternities of the
earth." We were amazed at what had happened
so suddenly and we greeted him. Then we left.
21
Aphou was not the only one in the Egyptian desert to
practise this peculiar form of ascetical estrangement, -
. Hermits dwelling with the beasts in the wilderness
are mentioned often in hagiographical documents of that
time.
22
Now, Wilhelm Bousset contended that all these
stories were but legends or novels. The paradisiac hermits,
wandering with the beasts, existed only in poetical imagina-
tion, not in real life: "nur in der Gestalt legendarischer
Erzhlungeu und nicht in greifbarer Wirklichkeit." The
monks of Scete were more sound and sober in their ascetical
endeavor and did not approve of wandering monks.
23
This
peculiar and rough manner of asceticism"das tierartige
Umherschweifen in der Wste/' in the phrase of Bousset,
originated probably in Syria and Mesopotamia, and for that
area it is so well attested in the authentic sources that no
reasonable doubts can be raised about its historicity. Sozomen
speaks of hermits in Syria and in the adjacent part of Persia
which were called , because of their manner of life:
they had no houses and dwelt constantly on the mountains.
"At the usual hours of meals, they each took a sickle, and
went to the mountains to cut some grass on the mountains,
as though they were flocks in pasture -
." Sozomen enumerates by names those who have chosen
this kind of "philosophy" (VI, 33). The primary meaning
of the word was herdsman or shepherd. But in this
connection it was used rather in the sense of
.
24
In Palestine also there were numerous ascetics
who practiced this or a similar way of life. There were those
who dwelt in mountains, dens, and caves of the earth, and
others used to live with the beasts -
. Again, some others led even a harder life
, . . .
(Evagrius SchoL, hist, eccl.,
1,21).
There are good reasons to assume that the same rigid
and radical method of ascetical retirement was practiced also
in Egypt. It is curious to know that Apa Aphou was not the
only one to be given the nickname "the Antelope/'According
to John Cassian, the same nickname was given also to Apa
Paphnutius, who was, in any case, a historical personality. The
passage must be quoted in full. Coll. III. I ) . Ubi rursum tanto
fervore etiam ipsorum anachoretarum virtutes superam desi-
derio et intentione jugis ac divinae illius theoriae cunctorum
devinabat aspectus, vastiora et inaccessibilia solitudinis pene-
trans loca multoque in eis tempore delitescens, ut ab ipsis
quoque anachoretis difficulter ac rarissime deprehensus an-
gelorutn cotidiano consortio delectari ac perfrui crederetur,
atque ei merito virtutis hujus ab ipsis inditum fuerit Bubali
cognomentum. The last sentence is rather puzzling: what is
the link between the consortium angelorum and Bubali cogno-
mentum? Obviously, there must be another reason for this
peculiar nickname. Paphnutius used to retire in the inacces-
sibilia solitudinis loca, beyond the reach of hermits themselves.
Would it be too much to suggest that there he was dwelling
with the beasts?in this case the cognomentum would be
well motivated. It should be added at this point that the
story of a journey in the wilderness, known as the "Life and
Conversation" of Apa Onouphrius, in which "naked hermits"
were encountered, is attributed to Paphnutius. On the other
hand, Apa Paphnutius of Scete was the only leader there
who, according to John Cassian, opposed the monks revolting
against Theophilus in connection with his Epistle of 399
against the Anthropomorphites.
In fact, the basic principles of the anchorites was:
(Apophthegmata
9
Arsenius I,
Cotelerius, Ecclesiae Graecae Monumenta, I, p. 353). Retire-
ment and renunciation was usually justified by Biblical ex-
amples: the images of Elijah and other prophets, of St. John
the Baptist, and even of the Apostles were often recalled and
their names quoted.
25
The Epistle to the Hebrews could be
also recalled. The way of the anchorites was the way of
prophets and apostles. It was precisely in this manner that
Apa Aphou used to explain his strange and peculiar mode
of life. He was asked by people, in his later years, when
he was already bishop, about the reasons of his peculiar
life. In reply he simply quoted Scripture. Is it not said in the
Gospel about Christ himself that He was in the wilderness
"with the wild beasts" (Mk 1:13)? Did not the blessed
David say about himself: "I was as a beast before Thee**
(Ps. 73:22) ? Did not Isaiah, by the Lord's command, walk
naked and barefoot (Is. 20:2) ? Now, if Christ himself and
His great saints had so condescended and humbled them-
selves, it was much more imperative for him to do the
samea poor and weak man.
A simple and rustic man, Aphou was a man of genuine
piety, of resolute will, and of penetrating mind. According
to the "Life'* Theophilus was much impressed by Aphou:
he appeared before him as a "common man," an ,
but his speech was that of a wise man. In his later years,
when he was made bishopindeed, against his own will,
Aphou displayed an unusual pastoral wisdom and zeal. The
image depicted in the "Life of Blessed Aphou" is quite
impressive. Aphou was an active and efficient bishop, al-
though he accepted this charge reluctantly. He still main-
tained his peculiar habits. He did not reside in the city, but
in a "monastery" outsidein this connection the word
"monastery" means obviously just a solitary cell, which was
actually the primary meaning of this word.
28
Only on week-
ends did he appear in the city. On Saturdays he used to
gather people into the church and instruct them the whole
day. Then he would spend the night in prayer and psalmody,
till the time of celebration. And after the service he used to
continue instruction till the close of the day. Then, in the
evening he would retire to his own place, till the next week-
end. In this way he endeavored to combine his anachoresis
with the episcopal duties. It should be kept in mind that
Oxyrhynchus was at that time a very peculiar city. According
to Rufinus, there multo plura monasteria quam dornus vide-
bantur (Hist. monach.
f
ch. V,of course, in this text monas-
terium denotes the solitary cells; cf. the Greek text, ed.
Festugire, Subsidia Hagiographica, 34 [1961], 41-43). The
city was rather a monastic city: sed nee portae ipsae, nee turres
civitatis, at ullus omnino angulus ejus, monachorum habita-
twnibus vacat, quique per omnem partent civitatis, die ac
nocte hymnos ac laudes Deo referentes, urbem totam quasi
unam Dei ecclesiam faciunt. And it was a large city: accord-
ing to Rufinus, there were 20,000 virgins and 10,000 monks.
27
Aphou was especially concerned with the poor and the
needy, and also with all those who have suffered from in-
justice. He organized the material life of his church, by ap-
pointing a special officer for this task, in such a way that
he always had means to help the needy, and he almost
abolished poverty in his flock altogether.
28
He enforced strict
discipline in the church: no woman was allowed to receive
communion if she appeared in a colored dress or wearing
jewels. Aphou was concerned not only with the offended
but also with the offenders, as they were transgressing
the law of God and were in peril of damnation. He was quite
strict about the order of the divine service. From his candi-
dates for ordination he used to require a solid knowledge
of Scripture, and examined them himself. Occasionally he had
raptures, and in this manner used to learn what was going
on in the city. His last admonition to his clergy, already on
his death-bed, was not to seek high positions. He could hardly
himself preserve that which he had achieved as a hermit,
r
when he became bishop, and, while being bishop, he did not
achieve anything. Obviously, it is not just an idealized portrait,
but a picture of a living person, with distinctive individual f
features. j
There is an interesting pericope concerning Aphou in the :
alphabetic Apophthegmata, a close parallel to that last j;
admonition of his which is recorded in the "Life."*
9
As a j'
hermit, Aphou led a severe life. He wanted to continue the !
same after he had become bishop, but was unable to do so '
. In despair, he prostrated himself before God !
and asked, whether it was because of his episcopacy that j
grace had departed from him: j
* . No, was the answer in a j
revelation. But, when he was in the desert, and there was no
man God was helping him:
. Now, when he is in the world,
people are taking care of him (Cotelerius, pp. 398-399; cf.
VerbaSeniorum,XY. 13, ML LXXIII, c. 956). The emphasis
is here on the antithesis: and . This episode
is quoted, without the name of Aphou, by St. Isaac of
Nineveh, and this shows its popularity. The context in which
the quotation appears in St. Isaac helps to grasp its full
meaning. It appears in the "Treatise in Questions and
Answers/' concerning the life of those who dwell in the
wilderness, or in solitude. The question is asked: why are
'Visions and revelations'' sometimes given to certain people,
while to others they are not given at all, although they may
have labored more. Now, visions and visitations are granted
often to those who on account of their fervent zeal have fled
from the world, "abandoning it entirely in despair and retiring
from any part inhabited by men, following God, naked,
without hope or help from anything visible, assailed by the
fear of desolation or surrounded by the peril of death from
hunger or illness or any other evil whatever, and near to
dejection/' On the other hand, "as long as a man receives
consolation from his fellowmen or from any of these visible
things, such (heavenly) consolation does not happen to
him/' This is the answer; and then follow the illustrations.
The second is the story of Aphou (but the name is not
given). "Another witness to this is he who led a solitary
life in rclusion, and often tasted of consolations granted by
grace, and divine care often became visible to him in manifest
apperception; but when he came near the inhabited world
and sought these things as usual, he did not find them. He
besought God that the truth concerning this matter might
become known to him, saying: perhaps, my Lord, grace has
been withdrawn from me on account of my episcopal rank?
It was said to him: No. But then, there was the desert, there
were no men, and God provided for thee. Now, there is the
inhabited world, and men provide for thee."
30
In this context the pericope of the Apophthegmata comes
into a clearer light. The "grace" which had been granted to
Aphou in the wilderness was actually a charisma, or rather
charismataof visions and consolations. The term "grace"
is ambiguous in this context, meaning at once "help" and
"consolation." With Divine help Aphou was able, in the
wilderness, to afford his rigid . But now it
became impossible"in the inhabited world," in a com-
munity of men. Aphou was a charismatic, a ,
but charismatics must dwell in solitude, or in the desert and
not "in the world." It is interesting to note that the author
of the "Life" of Aphou mentions his "ecstasies" only in
passing. He is much more interested in his pastoral exploits.
Was this author a monk himself?
According to the "Life," in his early years Aphou lived
"in obedience" with certain chosen and faithful people
some of them taught by the "disciples of the Apostles."
After their death Aphou alone was left, except for one
brother, probably a novice, whom he was instructing in the
ways to heaven. Thus, originally Aphou lived in a com-
munity, and only later chose the solitary life. It is possible,
however, that he lived in a company of hermits. It was not
unusual at that time that even members of a coenobitical
community would retire to the solitary life. There was nothing
peculiar in the change. Unfortunately, at this very point
the Coptic text is deficient: there is a lacuna of an indefinite
length. But we have additional information in the "Life of
Apa Paul": Aphou was made monk by Apa Antonius of See te
and stayed in the desert for fifty-four years.
Now, at this very point Drioton makes a hasty conclusion
that it was an Audian community in which Aphou had been
reared. His argument is strained and peculiar, vague and
shaky.
31
First, he contends that teachers of Aphou are so
"mysteriously" designated in the "Life" as to give an im-
pression that they were a "separate" group: "ces hommes
que le papyrus dsigne si mystrieusement donnent bien
l'impression d'tre des spars." In fact, there is simply
nothing "mysterious" in the text at all. The phrasing is
rather trivial and conventional: Aphou came from the com-
pany of venerable and "faithful" masters. These masters
themselves were instructed by the "Apostolic disciples." This
phrase may seem, at the first glance, rather peculiar. For
Drioton it is a conspicuous Audian link: "un trait bien
Audien." In this connection Drioton recalls the Audian claim
to follow the "Apostolic tradition" concerning the Paschal
practices. He admits himself, however, that actually there is
no slightest hint in the "Life" of Aphou (which is, indeed,
the only document in which Aphou's teachers are mentioned)
of any peculiar Paschal usages. It is evident, on the contrary,
that Aphou himself followed the regular calendar of the
Church of Alexandria. Moreover, in the "Life" there is no
reference to any Apostolic tradition. It is only stated that
Aphou's own masters were instructed by the disciples of
the Apostles, the mathetai. The question arises as to what
connotation this term has had, or may have had, in the
ecclesiastical or monastic idiom of the fourth century. And
it is not difficult to find it out.
In fact, early monastidsm, in Egypt and elsewhere, always
claimed to have followed the Apostolic pattern, and the
term "apostolic" was used, widely and persistently, to denote
ascetical endeavorrenunciation, poverty, the wandering life,
and the like. The term was applied especially to hermits.
The retreat from the world itself was regarded as an
apostolic action, as an imitation of the disciples who left
everything and followed Christ (cf. Luke 5:11
) . This idea is plainly implied in the great "Life of
Anthony," although the term itself is not used.
32
Eusebius
reports that Origen emphatically insisted on the evangelical
command of povertynot to possess anything (VI, 3, 10).
Speaking of the Therapeutai, Eusebius uses the term: dciro-
/, precisely because they were committed
to ascetkal practices (II, 17, 2). Richard Reitzenstein already
has shown that for Eusebius the term "apostolic life" had
a definite and established meaning: it meant asceticism.
33
And asceticism also implied a pneumatic endowment. In the
phrase of Reitzenstein, "der vollkommene Asket ist -
, er ist der
/'
3 4
Hermits in particular are the Apostolic
people, and their life is apostolic. It was a commonplace in
the literature of the fourth and fifth centuries.
35
Two ex-
amples will suffice at this point. Speaking of the persecu-
tions under Valens, Socrates mentions the Novatian bishop
Agelius: "he had led an apostolic life
because he always walked barefoot, and used but one
coat, observing the injunctions of the Gospel" (IV, 9).
Fpiphanius uses the term in the same sense:
. Renunciation and "apos-
tolic life" are equated. Actually Epiphanius was discussing
the encratite sect of Apostolics: this name emphasizes their
commitment to the Apostolic pattern of life. Epiphanius
sharply exposes their exclusiveness and intolerance, but
admits that the pattern of renunciation is truly apostolic.
Apostles had no possessions: . And
the Saviour himself, while in the flesh never acquired any-
thing earthly: (Panar.,
haeres. XLI, al. LXI, c. 3, 4).
It is safe to conclude that the expression "the disciples
of the Apostles" is used in the "Life of Blessed Aphou"
only to denote their strict ascetical manner of life. They
were . Surely, there is nothing "bien
Audien" in the phrase, and the whole argument of Drioton
is based on a sheer misunderstanding.
Finally, Drioton calls attention to the fact that the com-
munity of Aphou's teachers probably came to its end appro-
ximately at the time in which, according to Epiphanius,
Audian communities declined. It is a lame argument: a mere
coincidence in time does not prove anything, neither identity
nor even connection. Moreover, there is no evidence that the
Audian movement ever expanded to Egypt. It is significant
that no enemy of the Egyptian "Anthropomorphites" ever
suggested that they had any sectarian connection, even in the
heat of strife, although, of course, it would have been a good
argument in the struggle. Drioton simply begins with the
assumption that Audians were the only source from which
"Anthropomorphite" convictions could have come. He does
not consider the possibility that the allegedly "Anthropomor-
phite" arguments could be derived from some other source.
Drioton is compelled to admit that Aphou's own position
was much more qualified than that of the historic Audians.
And yet he finds his position to be "heretical," although it is
not clear what exactly he regards as heretical in the exposi-
tion given in the "Life/'
To sum up, Drioton's arguments cannot substantiate his
claim that Aphou came from the Audian background, that his
teachers were but "authentic adherents of a disappearing
sect""les adhrents authentiques d'un schisme finissant."
One cannot but regret that Drioton put his unwarranted
assumption into the very title of his otherwise competent
and interesting article: "La discussion d'un moine anthropo-
morphite audien. . . . " This assumption so blinded Drioton
that he failed to grasp the true subject of this "discussion"
and to discern its actual theme and its internal structure.
I l l
The theological discussion between Apa Aphou and Arch-
bishop Theophilus is the crucial and most significant part
of the "Life." Let us, first of all, quote the relevant part of
the document in full.
86
And it came to pass, then, that, while yet abiding
with the wild beasts, he went out for the preaching
of Holy Easter. And he heard an expression
( ) which was not in accord with the knowl-
edge of the Holy Spirit, so that he was much
troubled by that discourse. And, indeed, all those
who heard it were afflicted and troubled. But the
angel of the Lord commanded the blessed Aphou
not to disregard the word, saying to him: "Thou
art ordered by the Lord to go to Alexandria to set
this word aright." And that word was as follows:
the preacher, as if he were exalting the glory of
God in his address, had recalled the weakness of
man and had said: "It is not the image of God
which we men bear."
When he heard that, the blessed Aphou was filled
with the Holy Spirit and departed for the city of
Alexandria, wearing a wornout tunic. Blessed
Aphou stood at the bishop's gate for three days,
and no one let him in, for they took him for a
common man ( ). Then one of the clerics
took notice of him, observing his patience and
perceived that he was a man of God. He entered
within and informed the archbishop, saying, "Be-
hold, a poor man is at the gate and says that he
wishes to meet you, but we have not dared to take
him to you, for he has not suitable clothing upon
him/' But immediately, as though he had been im-
pelled by God, the archbishop ordered that they
bring him to him. And when the latter was before
him, he asked him to state his case. He answered:
"May my Lord bishop bear the word of his servant
with love and patience ( ) ) . "
He said to him: "Speak." Blessed Aphou replied: "I
know of your soul's kindness () and
that you are a thoughtful man. That is the reason
for my approaching your highness. I am certain
that you will not contemn the word of piety, even
though it come from such a poor man as I," And
Theophilus, the archbishop, said to him: "How
reprobate is he who shall be mad enough to reject
God's word for the sake of a trifle."
Aphou answered him: -"Let my Lord command
that the original ( ) of the sermon be read
to me, wherein I heard the sentence ( ) that
was not in agreement with the Scriptures inspired
by God. Personally, I did not believe (
) that it had come from you, but I thought
that the clerk ( ) had committed a
scribal error, regarding which a goodly number of
pious people blunder to the point of being greatly
troubled."
37
Then Apa Theophilus, the archbishop,
gave an order. The original ( ) of the sermon
was brought to him. When the reading had begun,
that phrase was reached. Then Apa Aphou bowed
down, saying: "This sentence like that is not cor-
rect; I, on the other hand, will maintain that it is
in the image of God that all men have been
created." The Archbishop replied: "How is it
that you alone have spoken against this reading,
and that there has not been anyone in agreement
with you?" Apa Aphou said: "But indeed I am
sure that you will be in agreement with me and
will not argue with me."
The Archbishop said: "How could you say of an
Ethiopian that he is the image of God, or of a leper,
or of a cripple, or of a blind man?"
Blessed Aphou replied: "If you proclaim that in
such fashion, you will be denying that which He
said, namely, 'Let us make man in our likeness and
in our image* (Gen. 1:26)."
The Archbishop replied: "Far bel t ! but I believe
that Adam alone was created in His likeness and
image, but that his children whom he begot after
him do not resemble him." Apa Aphou replied,
saying: *'Moreover, after God had established the
covenant with Noah following the flood, He said
to him: 'whoever sheds human blood, his own will
be shed in return, for man had been created in the
image of God' (Gen. 9:6)/'
The Archbishop said: "I hesitate to say of an ailing
man or . . . that he bears the image of God, Who
is impassible and self-sufficient, while (the former)
squats outside and performs his necessities (-
cf. I Sam. 24:4, LXX). How could
you think of him (as being one) with God, the
true light whom nothing can surpass?"
Aphou said to him: "If you mention this too, one
may say of the body of Christ that it is not what
you say it is. For the Jews will claim: 'How do you
take a bit of bread which the earth had so labori-
ously produced, and then believe and say that this
is the body of the Lord?' " The Archbishop said
to him: "That is not the case, for it is truly bread
before we elevate it above the altar ( -
); only after we have elevated it above the
altar and have invoked God upon them, does the
bread become the body of Christ and the cup become
the blood, according as He said to His disciples:
'Take ye and eat, this is my body and my blood*.
And then do we believe." Apa Aphou said to him:
"Just as it is necessary to have faith in that, it is
necessary to have faith . . . that man has been created
. . . in the likeness (and) image (of) God. For He
Who said, am the bread which is come from
heaven', is also He Who said, 'whoever will shed
human blood, his own will be shed in return, for
man has been created in the image of God'. Because
of the glory of God's greatness, whoever... capable
of arranging that something... to hi m. . . hi s. . . |
(will establish) i t . . . and because of the weakness
of man's insignificance according to the natural
frailty of which we are aware. If we think, for
example, of a king who will give orders and a
likeness ( ) will be painted, and all will pro-
claim that it is the image of the king, but at the
same time all know that it is wood and colors,
for it does not raise its nose (head), like man, nor
are its ears like those of the king's countenance,
nor does it speak like the king. And all these
weaknesses which belong to it nobody remembers
out of respect for the king's judgment, because he
has proclaimed: 'it is my image'. On the contrary,
if anyone dare deny it ( ), on the plea that
it is not the king's image, he will be executed
(killed) for having slighted it. Furthermore, the
authorities are mustered concerning it and give
praise to bits of wood and to colors, out of respect
to the king. Now, if such things happen to an image
which has no spirit, neither does it stir, being...
delusive ( ), how much more, then, (to)
man, in whom abides the Spirit of God, and who
is active and honored above all the animals which
are upon the earth; but because of the diversity of
elements and colors . . . and of weaknesses which
in us are. . . for us on account of our salvation;
for it is not possible for any one of these latter to
slight the glory which God has given us, according
to the word of Paul: 'As for man, it is not proper
that he cover his head (because he is the image and
glory of God)' (I Cor. 11:7)."
When he heard these words, the blessed Arch-
bishop arose and bent his head, saying: "This is
fitting that instruction come from those who search
in solitude, for, as for us, the reasonings of our
hearts are mixed in us, to the point that we err
completely in ignorance."
And immediately he wrote within all the country,
retracting that phrase, saying: "It is erroneous and
proceeds from my lack of intelligence in this
respect/'
It is not difficult to put this episode in a proper chron-
ological setting. The preaching which Aphou attended on
Easter day was, obviously, the reading of that Festal "Epistle"
of Theophilus, which, according to Sozomen, so strongly
offended and irritated the Desert monks. In this epistle, says
Sozomen, Theophilus "took occasion to state that God ought
to be regarded as incorporeal, and alien to human form"
(VIII. 11). To the same effect he preached himself in his
church (cf. also Socrates, VI. 7) . This Festal Epistle of
Theophilusfor the year 399is not preserved. Yet, Gen-
nadius gives an extensive resume of it: sed et Adversum
Anthropomorphitas haereticos, qui dicunt Deum humana
figura et membris constare, disputatione longissima confutans,
et divinarum Scripturarum testimoniis arguens et convincens,
ostendit Deum incorruptibilem et incorporeum juxta fidem
Patrum credendum, nee ullis omnino menbrorum lineamentis
compositum, et ob id nihil ei in creaturis simile per sub-
stantiam, neque cuiquam incorruptibilitatem suae ddisse
naturae, sed esse omnes intellectuales naturas corporeas,
omnes corruptibiles, omnes mutabiles, ut Hie solus corrup-
bilitati et mutabilitati non subjacet, "qui solus habet im-
mortalitatem" {de scriptoribus ecclesiasticis, XXXIV, p. 74
Richardson). The same Epistle is mentioned by John Cassian.
Coll. X. 2: Theophili praedictae urbis episcopi solemnes
epistulae commearunt, quibus cum denuntiatione paschali
ineptam quoque Anthropomorphitarum haeresim longa dis-
putatione disseruit eamque copioso sermone destruxit. Cassian |
then proceeds to the description of the commotion pro-
duced in monastic circles by this sharp and heavy epistle,
especially in heremo Scitii: in no monastery there, except one,
was this epistle permitted to be read, publicly or privately:
legt- aut recitari. The Archbishop himself was suspected and
118 As peas of Church History
condemnedvelut haeresi gravissima depravatus: he con-
tradicted the Holy Scriptureimpugnare sanctae scripturae
sententiam videretur. Was it not written that man was
created in the image of God?
The meeting between Aphou and Theophilus took place,
surely, before that tumultuous intervention of angry monks
which is so vividly described both by Socrates and Sozomen.
38
Indeed, it is difficult to conceive that such a peaceful inter-
view as is described in the "Life of Blessed Aphou'* could
have taken place at a time when a hectic controversy was
already raging everywhere in the monastic colonies of Egypt.
Moreover, this interview would have been superfluous after
Theophilus had changed his attitude. Again, according to the
"Life/
1
Aphou was the first to present objections to Theo-
philus concerning his "preaching." Aphou's intervention was
his individual move, based on a private revelation. At that
time Aphou was dwelling, apparently, somewhere in the
neighborhood of Oxyrhynchushe calls himself "a man of
Pemdje," which refers rather to his residence than to his
origin. It was in Oxyrhynchus that he heard the reading of
Theophilus's epistle. Aphou s intervention had no direct con-
nection with that general commotion in eremo Scitii of which
John Cassian spoke.
There is an obvious discrepancy between our sources.
Socrates and Sozomen present the story as that Theophilus
was frightened by the monks and then yielded to their pres-
sure-to condemn Origen. The name of Origen does not
occur in the "Life" of Aphou. The hagiographer insists that
Theophilus was moved by Aphou's arguments and "im-
mediately" retracted his unfortunate statement"has written
to all in the country." It is reasonable to assume that Theo-
philus had various contacts with individuals before the
monastic multitudes arrived. In any case, Aphou is nowhere
mentioned in this connection, apart from the "Life." On
the other hand, it is highly improbable that the whole episode
of the monastic tumult could be completely omitted by a
close contemporary of the event. It is more probable that the
''Life of Blessed Aphou" was written much later, when the
memories of the trouble had faded away, and by a writer
who was interested only in the ascetical exploits of his saintly
hero and in his pastoral work in the community of Oxy-
rhynchus. Aphou's visit to Theophilus is presented in the
context of his biography, and not in the perspective of the
history of his time.
It is both curious and significant that, according to the
"Life," Aphou took exception to one particular expression,
or a , in the epistle of Theophilus. In his conversation
with the Archbishop he was concerned solely with the con-
cept of God's image in man. He did not develop or defend
any "Anthropomorphite" thesis. The sting of his argument
was directed against the denial of God's image in man, and
there was no word whatever about any "human form" in
God. Aphou only contended that man, even in his present
condition and in spite of all his misery and destitution, had
to be regarded still as being created in the image of God,
and must be, for that reason, respected. Aphou was primarily
concerned with man's dignity and honor. Theophilus, on the
other hand, was embarrassed by man's misery and depravity:
could an Ethiopian or a cripple be regarded as being "in the
image of God," he asked.
Theophilus appears to have held the view that the "image
of God" had been lost by man in the Fall and that, accord-
ingly, the children of Adam were not (pro) created in the
image. It is precisely this opinion which was sharply exposed
and refuted by Epiphanius, both in his Ancoratus and in the
Panarion, in the section on the Audians. Let us recall that
both works were written in the seventies, that is, long before
the outbreak of the Origenistic and the Anthropomorphite
troubles in Egypt.
39
Epiphanius's own position in this matter
was balanced and cautiously qualified. Man was created in
the image of God, ' ,this is a Scriptural truth
which cannot be doubted or ignored. But one should not
attempt to decide in which part of man this *
is situated, nor should one restrict this image to one part or
aspect of the human constitution, to the exclusion of others.
One has to confess faithfully the presence of this * 'image"
in man, lest we despise the Divine grant and appear unfaith-
ful to Him:
. What God has said is truth, even
if it escapes our understanding in certain respects:
. In any
case, to deny the * is contrary to Catholic faith
and to the mind of the Holy Church:
(Ancoratus, 55; ,
haeres. LXX, al. L, ch. 2). Now, proceeds Epiphanius, there
are many who would attempt to localize the image, either
only in the soul, or in the body alone, or else in the virtues
of man. All these attempts go astray from tradition. The
* is not exclusively in the soul, nor exclusively
in the body, but it would be wrong to deny that it is also
in the body and in the soul: *
' . In other words,
the "image" is in the whole man: man is created *
, and not just one part of man. Finally, there
are also those who concede that God's image was in Adam,
but it was lost when Adam was expelled from Paradise:
. Great is the licentious phantasy of those people,
exclaims Epiphanius:
. Indeed, we are obliged to believe that *
is still in man, and in the whole man:
( ). But how and
where exactly it resides is known to God alone, Who has
granted it by His grace, . The *'image" does not
perish, although it may be polluted and marred by sins. Then
Epiphanius gives his Scriptural references: Gen. 2:6, I Cor.
11:4, Jas. 3:8 (Panar. LXX, ch. 3; cf. Ancor., 56, 57). It
should be noted at this point that the same texts (except for
Jas.) were quoted also by Aphou, in his conversation with
Theophilus. Even more significant is the fact that in his
Ancoratus Epiphanius uses the same Eucharistie analogy
which we find in the "Life" of Aphou. The '
is the grant of God, and God must be trusted. The '
can be understood by analogy: .
Then comes a brief description of the Institution. Now, says
Epiphanius,

. But we simply trust the words
of Christ {Ancoratus, 57).
Epiphanius takes a firm stand: according to Scripture man
is created "in the image" of God, and it is against the
Catholic rule of faith to doubt or to deny that. But this
"image,"
9
, is, as it were, a mystery, a gracious
gift of God, and this mystery must not be rationalizedit
must be apprehended by faith. From this point of view
Epiphanius objects both to "Anthropomorphite" literalism in
exegesis, and to the vagaries of Origenistic spiritualism. This
was the position he maintained at Jerusalem in 394. He stated
plainly his argument in his letter to John, which is extant
only in the Latin translation of St. Jerome. Among various
errors of Origen Epiphanius mentions also this: ausus est
dicere perdidisse imaginem Dei Adam... et ilium solum
factum esse ad imaginem Dei qui plasmatus esset ex humo et
uxorem ejus, eos vero qui conciperentur in utero et non ita
nascerentur ut Adam Dei non habere imaginem. Against this
"malicious interpretation"maligna interpretationBpiph-
anius quotes Scripture: an array of texts follows: Gen. 9:4-6;
Ps. 38:7; Sap. 2:23; Jas. 3:8-9; I Cor. 11:7. Epiphanius con-
cludes: nos autem, dilectissime, credimus his quae locutus est
Dominus, et scimus quod in cunctis hominibus imago Dei
permaneatj ipsique concedimus nosse in qua parte homo ad
imaginem Dei conditus est (Epiph. ad lohannem episcopum,
inter epist. Hieronymi, LI, 6.15-7.4). It was but natural that
John suspected Epiphanius of an "Anthropomorphite" lean-
ing, as Jerome informs us: volens ilium suspectum facere
stultissimae haereseos. Jerome recalls the dramatic clash be-
tween John and Epiphanius, and the sermon of John directed
against the Bishop of Cyprus. Epiphanius had to restate his
position: cuncta {inquif) quae locutus est colle gio fr at er,
aetate films meus, contra Anthropomorphitarum haeresin,
bene et fideliter locutus est, quae mea quoque damnantur
voce; sed aequum est, ut quomodo hanc haeresin con-
demnamus, etiam Origenis perversa dogmata condemnetnus
(Hieron., Contra lohannem Hierosolymitanum, cap. II). Al-
though Jerome wrote some years after the events and his
treatise is an emotional and venomous invective, we may
assume that the position of Epiphanius was stated correctly.
It should be added that Theophilus was originally suspicious
of Epiphanius too, and "accused him of entertaining low
thoughts of God, by supposing Him to have a human form."
He reconciled himself and even allied with Epiphanius, but
later, after 399, when he changed his position (Socr. VI. 10).
Now, let us return to the "Life of Blessed Aphou."
Aphou's position in the dispute appears to be very similar to
that of Epiphanius. His crucial emphasis is simply this: the
reality of the "image" in general is not compromised by its
factual inadequacy. An image of the king, which is itself
lifeless and material, is still the king's image, the image of
a living person, and must be, accordingly, respected. More-
over, man is not a lifeless image, but in him abides the Spirit
of God. Again, an official image of the king must be regarded
as such on account of the king's declaration, "this is my
image." And, in regard to man, this is warranted by God
himself, according to the Scriptures. Unfortunately, the text
of the "Life" is in this passage corrupt and deficient, but it
seems that Aphou had here also a reference to the Incarna-
tion. Aphou's Eucharistie argument was to the same effect:
do not trust appearances, but trust the word of God. In the
Eucharist we actually see bread, but by faith we behold the
Body, and believe it in obedience to the Dominical witness:
"this is my Body." In the same way has God declared con-
Theophilus of Alexandria and Apa Aphou of Pemdje lib
cerning man: "he is created in My image." In fact, Aphou
does not go beyond this statement and does not try to locate
the image or to rationalize the mystery. There is nothing
specifically "Anthropomorphite" in his exposition. On the
other hand, Aphou's reasoning is so close to that of Epiph-
anius that it may suggest a direct dependence. It is fair to
assume that Epiphanius' writings and letters had considerable
circulation at that time, and that, if certain people in the
Egyptian communities were reading at that time Origen,
others read his opponents, of which Epiphanius was the most
venerable and conspicuous.
We have to identify now those people denying '
in man after the Fall whom Epiphanius was so
sharply and angrily refuting already in the Panarion. He
probably had in view Origen and his followers, those es-
pecially among the hermits in Egypt. In the section of the
Panarion on Origen Epiphanius accused him briefly of the
contention that Adam had lost the * (haeres.
LXIV, al. XLIV, cap. 4) . In fact, the thought of Origen was
more complex and qualified than a blunt denial. Moreover,
one finds in his writings certain passages in which Origen
strongly insisted that the "image" simply cannot have been
totally lost or effaced and remains even in the soul, in which
"terrestrial image" is, by ignorance or resistance, super-
imposed over the * {Contra Celsum, IV. 83;
Homil. in Gen., XIII. 3, 4). However, Origen spoke primarily
of the "interior man"the Kcrt* was restricted to the
or the , and the body was emphatically
excluded.
40
In the Greek theology of the fourth century there
was an unresolved ambiguity concerning the image of God.
One must be very careful at this point: the writers of that
time did not claim that man was an image, but rather that
he was created or shaped in the image. Thus, the emphasis
was on conformity: an image is a true image when it actually
mirrors or reflects adequately that reality of which it is held
or expected to be the image. Accordingly, there was always a
strong dynamic stress in the concept of the image. The
question could not fail to arise, in what sense and to what
extent could this dynamic relationship continue or persist
when the conformity was conspicuously broken, and fallen
man went astray and frustrated his vocation. This ambiguity
could be obviated by distinguishing carefully the "image"
and the "likeness/' or "similitude." But this was never done
consistently, nor by all. In fact, the theology of the image
was intimately related to the theology of Sin and Redemption,
and, again, the theology of Sin was not yet adequately
elaborated at that time, either in the East or in the West.
There was an obvious tension between different motives in
the thought of St. Athanasius, especially in his early period.
In the de Incamatione St. Athanasius presents the Fall as a
total and radical catastrophe:
. '
/ (6. I ) . Fallen man was, as it were,
reduced to a sub-human status:
! ,
(4. 4). The
9

was a grant of grace, and this grant was lost or withdrawn.
The
9
had to be restored or even re-created: the
verbs used by St. Athanasius were: and dcva-
. According to St. Athanasius,
9
was,
as it were, superimposed over the "nature" in man which
was intrinsically mutable and fluid -
. The stability of human composition was insured,
in the state of innocence, by its "participation" in the Logos.
In the state of estrangement, which was the root of sin, this
participation was discontinued.
41
Actually, St. Athanasius
wanted to emphasize the depth and radicalness of sin: fallen
man is no more man in the full sense, and this is manifested
most conspicuously in his actualized mortality, an inherent
consequence of the estrangement, the ultimate sting of cor-
ruption, on the very verge of annihilation.
42
The same am-
biguity remains in the theology of St. Cyril of Alexandria.
j
In a sense, according to his interpretation, man still is
9
i
, as a "rational" creature endowed with freedom. But
other basic aspects or features of the "image," and above
allincorruptibility, were lost, and the "image" itself was
distorted or "falsified", like a counterfeit
coin or seal. Like St. Athanasius, St. Cyril uses the ambiguous
word: to characterize the impact of sin on
* , and it is difficult to detect his proper inten-
tion, since the word may mean both a superficial obliteration
and total destruction.
43
It is beyond the scope of the present study to analyze at
full length the problem of the * in the Greek
theology of the fourth and following centuries. This brief
and rather sketchy survey will suffice, however, for our im-
mediate objective: to explain the position of Theophilus.
Obviously, he followed St. Athanasius, just as St. Cyril did
later. The brief summary of his controversial epistle given by
Gennadius, which we have quoted earlier, is helpful. The
emphasis of Theophilus was the same as that of St. Atha-
nasius: the basic contrast between God, Eternal and "Im-
mortal," and man, mutable, corruptible, and unstable, in
man's fallen condition. He is no longer "in the image" after
the Fall. Moreover, the Alexandrinian Fathers always tended
to restrict ' to the "interior man," to the
spiritual aspect of his existence. This was, undoubtedly, an
inheritance from Origen.
To sum up: in the conversation between Aphou and
Theophilus we have a confrontation of two different con-
ceptions concerning
9
, that is, concern-
ing the nature and character of "the image of God in man."
And we may guess that this was the major issue in that violent
conflict which came to be known as the "Anthropomorphite
Controversy." No doubt, there were in Egypt also rustic
monks who were addicted to literal interpretation of Scrip-
tural imagessimplicitate rustica, in the phrase of St. Jerome,
which refers, however, to the situation in Palestine. But there
was a deeper core of theological contention: there was an
opposition to the whole tradition of Origen. W. Bousset ob-
served rightly: "Wenn des Theophilus Bekmpfung des
Anthropomorphismus eine so grosse Erregung bei den sket-
ischen Mnchen hervorruft (Cassian, Coll. X) , so handelt es
hier eigentlich nicht um das Dogma, sondern um eine
Lebensfrage fr die von der Gottesschau lebende enthusi-
astische Frmmigkeit/'
44
The story of Sarapion, told by Cas-
sian (Coll. . 3), is illuminating in this respect.
45
In the light of the information we can derive from the
"Life of Blessed Aphou" we can understand that rather
enigmatic phrase with which Theophilus, according to both
Socrates and Sozomen, managed to placate the angry monks.
"Going to the monks, he in a conciliatory tone thus addressed
them: seeing you, I behold the face of God*. The utterance
of this saying moderated the fury of these men and they
replied: if you really admit that God's countenance is such
as ours, anathematize Origen's book" (Socr. VI. 7
, , ; cf. Sozom. VIII.
I l ) . Indeed, it could be no more than a flattering compliment,
as Tillemont has interpreted it.
46
And, of course, it was a
Biblical phrase: Gen. 33:10Jacob meeting Esau"for there-
fore I have seen thy face, as though I had seen the face of
God/* But it does seem to be more than just a compliment. Let
us remember now the phrase in the epistle of Theophilus to
which Aphou took exception: "It is not the image of God
which we men bear/' In his rejoinder Aphou insisted that
the glory of God could be perceived even in that inadequate
image which is man. It seems strange that angry monks be
placated by the address of Theophilus, if it was no more
than a courteous phrase. In fact, it was just to the point, it
was a disguised retraction of his offensive phrase in the con-
troversial epistle that had irritated the monks. It seems that
the monks understood it.
47
According to the "Life" of Aphou, Theophilus was im-
pressed by his arguments, admitted his error, and issued a
new encyclical. No such encyclical epistle is known. In his
later Festal Epistles, which are preserved only in the Latin
translation of Jerome, Theophilus did not discuss the problem
of the image at all. They were concerned mainly with the
refutation of Origen.
48
But we can trust the "Life" and admit
that Theophilus was impressed by Aphou himself. This rustic
anchorite was a wise man. Aphou, on his side, praised the
humility of Theophilus which allowed him to acknowledge
his error. The story may be embellished a bit. Aphou declined
the invitation to stay in Alexandria for a longer time and went
back to his own place. After three years the see of Pemdje
became vacant and Theophilus appointed Aphou, although
another candidate had been nominated by the community.
There is nothing improbable in that. Already in the time of
St. Athanasius it was usual to appoint monks to episcopal
position. Theophilus had done this not once. The best known
case is, of course, that of Dioscurus, one of the Tall Brothers,
whom he made bishop of Hermopolis.
The "Life of Blessed Aphou" comes, obviously, from
Coptic circles.
The information on the Anthropomorphite Controversy
which we derive from Greek and Latin sources is biased and
onesided. This is true especially of John Cassian, a "pious
journalist," as Ren Draguet has labelled him.
40
He was on
the Origenist side in the conflict. He wrote from the Evagrian
point of view: "noi in Cassiano rileggiamo Evagrio," rightly
says a modern student of John Cassian.
5
* The picture of
Egyptian monasticism presented in the Historia Lausiaca is
also drawn from the Greek point of view, "in the spirit of
Evagrius," as Draguet puts it.
51
The case of the "Anthropo-
morphites" has been polemically misrepresented since that
time. The controversy was presented as a clash between the
rustic simpliciores and the learned. This aspect of the case
should not be ignored or denied. But there was much more
than that: there was also a clash of theological traditions,
and a clash of spiritual conceptions. The "Life" of Aphou
helps us to grasp this theological perspective of the con-
troversy, and this constitutes the high historical value of this
peculiar hagiological document.
A Postscript
1. The valuable book by Antoine Guillaumont, Les
'Kephalaia Gnosticd d'Evagre le Pontique et l'Histoire de
rOrignisme chez les Grecs et les Syriens ( = "Patristica
Sorbonensia" 5, Editions du Seuil, Paris, 1962), appeared
after the present article had been delivered for publication.
Guillaumont has a brief paragraph on the Anthropomorphite
controversy (pp. 59-61). He does not believe that the
Anthropomorphites of Egypt had any relation to the Audians:
"Cette filiation est difficile tablir historiquement. Il parait
plus naturel de ne voir dans ce mouvement qu'une raction
spontane contre la thorie evagrienne de la prire purer-
action comprehensible de la part de gens simples qui pouvaient
craindre que le Dieu de la Bible, qui a fati l'homme son
image, n'ait plus de place dans une pit si haute," p. 61,
note 62. Guillaumont quotes my article of I960 with general
approval, but regrets that I have limited myself to the text
of Cassian and did not mention Evagrius and his treatise
"On Prayer." In fact, my only purpose in that article of
minea brief communication at the Congress in Munich,
sorely restricted in spacewas to describe the position of
Sarapion and to stress the importance of the conception of the
"image of God" in man for the understanding of the whole
conflict. On the other hand, Guillaumont refers to the article
of Drioton, but does not seem to have appreciated the
significance of the "Life of Aphou," le "curieux document,"
as he labels it (p. 62, note 63).
2. (or ) is not a buffalo (as it has
been often mistranslated, for instance by Dom . Pichery, in
his edition of the 'Conferences' of Cassian, in the "Sources
Theophilus of Alexandria and Apa Aphou of Petndje 129
Chrtiennes"le boeuf sauvage!), but antelope, bubalis
mauiretanica; see the Lexicon of Liddell-Scott, sub voce. In
English the word "buffalo" may denote both a kind of Afri-
can stag or gazelle, and the wild ox (cf. Webster's Diction-
ary).
The Hagia Sophia Churches
, " " "
;
,
FIRST TEMPLE in Constantinople dedicated under
JL the name of "Holy Wisdom' ' was possibly designed by
Constantine himself. The building was however completed
much later and the "Great Church'* wa first consecrated
only in 360, under Constantius, by an Arian bishop. It is
not at all clear when the name "Hagia Sophia" was first
given to the church. Socrates says only: "which is now
called Sophia" (II, 43). It is quite possible that the "Great
Church" in the beginning had no special name, and the
name of Sophia came to prominence later; it was probably
a current connotation rather than an intentional dedication.
The name, however, by no means was an accident. Some
archeologist of old guessed that the name was rather an
abstract idea or a Divine attribute, and that Constantine used
to dedicate temples to "abstract ideas,"Wisdom, Power,
"The Hagia Sophia Churches" originally appeared as resume of a
lecture entitled "Christ, the Wisdom of God, in Byzantine Theology" in
Rsums des Rapports et Communications, Sixime Congrs International
d'tudes Byzantines (Paris, 1940), pp. 255-260. Reprinted by permission.
This rsum was only an introduction to a larger paper which was to be
presented at the Byzantine Congress at Alger in 1939. The Congress, however,
did not take place.
131
Peace. All this is but a misunderstanding. The name of
Wisdom is a biblical name, and all these three
c
'abstract''
names are used in St. Paul, as names of Christ: Sophia
[ ], Dynamis [ ], Eirn [ ]. Passages
in the Old Testament where the Wisdom of God was
described as a person (and specially the VIII-th chapter of
Proverbs) were from an early date regarded as referring
to Christ, the Incarnate Word. We find this in St. Justin.
The other suggestion, that Wisdom meant rather the Holy
Spirit (the Spirit of Wisdom, of course), found in Theophilus
of Antioch and St. Irenaeus, was not used ever by any of the
later writers, and the identification of "Sophia-Wisdom"
as of one of the names of the Second Person of the Holy
Trinity became the common place of Patristic exegesis and
theology. Origen regards the name "Wisdom" as the first
and principal name of the Son (Comm. in loann. I. 22).
Both "Wisdom" and "Power" are mentionned in the Symbol
of St. Gregory of Neo-Caesarea. In the IV-th century both
Arians and Orthodox agreed that the Holy Wisdom described
in the book of Proverbs was the Son of God. The eighth
chapter of Proverbs was one of the principal topics of dispute
throughout the whole IV-th century, and certainly the name
was known and comprehensible to all and was full of associa-
tions. Anyhow it was the name of Christ, and it was but
natural to give this name to the "Great Church."
Hagia Sophia was dedicated to Christ under the name
of Wisdom. There is no reason whatever to suspect any
change of dedication under Justinian/It is obvious that
Sophia was commonly regarded as the temple of Christ. It is
clearly shown in the famous story of the construction of
Justinian's Sophia: "Hagia Sophia," which means the Word
of God (ed. Preger, p. 74: -

, -
). It is hardly possible to speak of any specified
dedication of churches in Justinian's time or even later, A
church was usually dedicated simply to Our Lord or to the
The Hagia Sophia Churches 133
Blessed Virgin, or else to the Saints. But it depended upon
some peculiar conditions when any special dedication was
stressed. The patronal festival was kept on the Anniversary
of the dedication. In St. Sophia it was on the 23-rd of
December, because the temple was consecrated unde Justin-
ian on the 26-th of December and again on the 24-th. Of
course Christmas was chosen as the most suitable season.
In the office for the Anniversary, as it is described in the
Typik of the Great Church published by Dmitrievsky, there
is nothing to suggest any special commemoration for the day;
it is rather a general office for any Anniversary. And actually
it was recommended for this purpose by Symeon of Salonic.
The churches dedicated to Holy Wisdom were quite
numerous both in Byzantium and among the Slavs. On many
occasions we have a direct proof that they were regarded is
dedicated to Christ, the Word and the Wisdom. And there
is no reason or hint whatever to suspect that any other
dedication of the Sophia-churches was ever known or used
in the Byzantine Church. Scholars were misled or confused
by the unexpected and rather startling fact that in Russia
the patronal festival in the Sophia-churches was kept on Our
Lady's days, on the 8-th of September in Kiev (the Nativity
of Our Lady) and on the 15-th of August in Novgorod
(the Assumption) .This seemed to suggest that these famous
Cathedrals were dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, and that the
name of Wisdom was applied to Her as well. Some scholars
were inclined to see in that a special contribution of Russia
to the theology of Wisdom. One has to object first that in
earlier times the patronal festival both in Novgorod and Kiev
was kept on the Anniversary of the dedication, as it is stated
in old calendars. And secondly we are very fortunate to
have some formal proofs that the patronal festival was
transferred to the new dates quite late. In Kiev this occurred
not before the restoration of the Hagia Sophia by Peter
Mogila or even later. In Novgorod it took place under
Archbishop Gennadius about the close of the XV-th century.
But even after that date the Novgorod Sophia was usually
called the temple of the Wisdom and Word.
II
There are two distinct manners to represent the Wisdom
of God in Byzantine iconography. First, Christ as Wisdom
and Word under the image of an Angel (
, Is. IX. 6). Second, the personification of Wisdom,
Divine or human, as a virgin. The first scheme is biblical,
the second classical, and they are originally quite independent
from each other.
The first one is very rare in early monuments. One has
to mention the fresco in the catacombs in Karmuz, where
the inscription is emphatic: . The representa-
tion is badly described and the whole monument not quite
clear. One may interpret the image as a representation of
Christ in the Old Testament similitude. One may compare it
with the early document as "Shepherd" Hermas, in which the
Son of God was described as an Angel and almost confused
with Michel the Archangel ( ) . And
one can understand easily why this image could not be very
popular in early iconography. The main emphasis was rather
on the historicity and reality of the presentation of Our Lord,
and it was intended to convey to the worshipers the sound
dogmatic idea. Symbolical images were rather definitely dis-
couraged. This was the meaning of the 82nd canon of the
Council in Trullo. The image of the Angel of the Great
Council becomes popular and usual only in later Byzantine
iconography, and is found often in Mistra and Athos, but
only as an exception are we warranted to believe that the
Angel was meant to represent Wisdom. One can mention only
one fresco described by Charles Diehl at St. Stefano in Soleto,
probably from the late -th century. The angel has a
chalice in his hand, which suggests an eucharistie interprta-
The Hagia Sophia Churches 135
tion (see Prov. IX, 2, which is referred to the Eucharist in the
office of Good Thursday). But the inscription is plain: H
. . There are some interesting com-
positions in miniatures. But it is certain that in Byzantine
art we never had any canonized scheme for the representa-
tion of Divine Wisdom.
The second composition, the personification, can be found
first in the miniatures. It is enough to mention the famous
Parisin. N. 139 (X-th cent.). But even here the classical
motive was possibly amalgamated with the biblical. One can
recall the vision of St. Cyril, where Wisdom was seen as a
virgin (see Sap. Sal. VIII, 2). In monumental art the com-
position in Monreale has to be mentioned. All that does
not suggest that the image of Wisdom had any special
appeal to the Byzantine Christians. But a basis was provided
for the further development of the topic in Russian icono-
graphy. The famous Novgorod icon of St. Sophia is hardly
older than the late XV-th century. It is a peculiar kind of
Deisis, where Christ is represented as Wisdom under the
image of the Angel, and the Blessed Virgin and St. John
the Baptist standing at His sides. The icon belongs to a
very interesting series of the new Russian compositions of
the XV-th and XVI-th centuries and is a new interpretation
of some traditional Byzantine motives.
ASPECTS OF RUSSIAN
CHURCH HISTORY
Russian Missions:
An Historical Sketch
I
N A CERTAIN SENSE the whole history of Russia is
a process of colonization, the peopling of a country or
the settling of inhabitants in different parts of it. In this
movement the Church took a creative part and not only did
she follow the people but often she led them. Strangely
enough, she led them even at the time when she seemed to
be deserting them by withdrawing from the outer material
world into the world of the spirit, for it frequently happened
that the ascetics and hermits were the pioneers on the rough
and half-wild virgin soil in the north and north-east of
Russia. For them the dense forests served as a desert, but
they were followed by the world from which they wished to
escape and so they had to depart from their settlements and
get away still farther, cutting into the very depths of the
primeval forests. Thus the ascetic retreat from the world at-
tracted, as it were, the advance of the world; a process which
historians call monastic colonization.
"Russian Missions: An Historical Sketch" appeared in The Christian
East, Vol. XIV, No. 1 (1933), pp. 30-41. Reprinted by permission of the
author.
139
This was an important factor and moment in the social
history of the Russian people, and at the same time it was
a missionary process, that is, a geographical propagation and
extension of the Church. The baptism of Russia cannot be
looked upon as a single fact; it was rather an extensive process
spread over centuries, a process of Christian occupation of
new lands and territories. For a long time the Russian Church
was in a state of constant movement, wandering about, prac-
tically leading a nomadic life and always entering into the
lands of the unbaptized either simultaneously with the State
or often before it. Up to the last the Russian Church was like
an island in the midst of a pagan sea, and even inside Russia
itself she was always a missionary Church. Missionary work,
that is the calling of unbelievers to the faith, was a part of
her daily life.
It was from Byzantium that the Russian Church received
the request of carrying on this missionary work and to this
end it adapted Byzantine methods.
This meant putting in the forefront the use of the ver-
nacular or local dialects in preaching. In other words, it was
evangelization as a way of awakening the new peoples to a
Christian life, and at the same time it was an adaptation to
a tradition of culture, but without any negation or suppression
of national differences and peculiarities. By this means the
Slavonic people, enlightened and baptized by the Byzantine
missionaries, were drawn into the vortex of Byzantine civiliza-
tion and yet did not lose their Slavonic features. (The history
of the Georgian Church should be mentioned in this connec-
tion.)
Translation as a method of missionary influence is a
major premise of Byzantine missionary work, and that method
was adopted by the Russian civilizers and missionaries from
the very beginning. In this respect the personality of St.
Stephen of Perm, the civilizer of Zirian and a friend of
St. Sergius (d. 1396), is most brilliant and expressive,
Of his own accord he undertook a missionary journey
through the district of Perm. He not only preached but
even officiated in the vernacular, with which purpose in view
he had to translate the holy scriptures and Church books, and
to do this it was first necessary to work out a Zirian alphabet
which he probably based upon the local Runic signs.
St. Stephen's idea was to create a local "Perm" Church
in which all the spiritual forces of the newly civilized people
would have revealed themselves and received their consecra-
tion. His immediate successors in the see of Perm were in-
spired by the same ideal, which, however, was not attained,
his Zirian Orthodox Church being finally absorbed by the
Russian Orthodox Church. It is indeed possible that St.
Stephen wanted to give the Zirians somewhat more than they
really needed or were able to absorb and retain. Not all
peoples possess their own culture, or indeed can possess it,
and that "can" or "cannot" is a bare historical fact. Not
every people or tribe has its own spiritual words, its own
creative style for biological and spiritual expressions and
phenomena of different grades. These facts present great
difficulties for missionary work and a missionary must possess
great tact and sensitiveness in order to learn and find the
right way.
In any case, however, it was the missionary ideal of St.
Stephen of Perm that continued to be a typical guide in the
Russian Church till quite recently. The Gospel was preached
and divine service performed in many tongues.
Particularly noteworthy is the creation of an Orthodox
Church for the Tartars with their own native clergy in the
Kazan region. But the most brilliant example of that mis-
sionary nationalism is the creation of a Japanese Church,
which grew up and still remains as one of the dioceses of
the Russian patriarchate.
Missionary work must start first of all with translation,
as it is always necessary to begin in the vernacular. The
Gospel must be translated and reduced to writing, or at any
rate related in the tongue of the country; but as the work
goes on questions arise. Is it necessary to translate the whole
Bible and the whole cycle of Church books as well as to
work out in each tongue the theological terminology which
is necessary for the translation of dogmatic formulas? The
difficulty here lies in the fact that many of the tongues are
still undeveloped and insufficiently flexible and rich in their
vocabulary to be used in mystical and sacred quotations. The
missionaries often have not only to invent an alphabet but,
as it were, to invent and work out the tongue itself. Another
difficulty arises in translating into languages of non-Christian
civilizations, for there are many old associations and a lack
is felt of words to express the new conceptions because the
old words have too many old connotations. In any case a
missionary must have a great philological gift and sensitive-
ness; a loving and lively sense of the tongue; a desire and
power to penetrate into the foreign soul and understand it;
that is to say, one has in a certain sense to have the faculty
of sympathetic reincarnation.
The same is, no doubt, required from every pastor and
teacher in general, but the claim on these qualities in mis-
sionary work is especially acute. Very often missionaries have
to create and build up the civilization of the natives, for it
is often impossible to draw the line between evangelical
doctrines and everyday life. Too often it is necessary to
change or even to break up the whole structure or mode of
life which has become too closely amalgamated with the
pagan past and too firmly a part of daily life. Sometimes
it is necessary to isolate the neophytes from their own peo-
ple, often for the sake of their own safety. Again, for them
to benefit from the preaching of the Gospel, it is important
to enlarge the mental outlook of a flock that is being sought
for, so as to arouse and elevate its requirements, and this
again is only possible by bringing them into touch with a
higher civilization which has already taken root. It is gen-
erally only by the acceptance of this higher civilization that
the hidden forces of a newly enlightened people can be
awakened. In experiments in real life one cannot draw a
line between religious and worldly things. According to the
inner logic of missionary work itself a missionary ought to
enter into the daily life of his people. It is not wrong that
a missionary should be involved in worldly business and
cares; this is only wrong if he loses the true perspective of
the Gospel and yields himself up to the spirit of the world.
It is inevitable for the mission to come face to face with
the State, i.e. to co-operate with it, or at least to work along-
side the State's compulsory and organizing institutions, but
it is difficult to say which is more difficult, to co-operate or
to struggle. Help and facilities from the State generally
rather complicate the inner work of a missionary. The ap-
plication of direct force is not so dangerous, but the strength
and power of the State unwittingly overawe, and superiority
of culture attracts, with the result that the genuine simplicity
of a Christian conversion and its growth is hampered and
the tempo of missionary work becomes too rapid. Sometimes
the mission inevitably enters into controversy with the State;
for it may happen that the interest of the State demands
delay in the Christianizing movement among younger na-
tions; or sometimes, on the contrary, baptism acquires for
the empire the means of forcing them into a central civilized
political union. In the case of local dialects, too, the methods
of evangelization may appear injurious from the point of
view of the State. To find a way through all these difficulties
and conflicts in the process of creating the Christian life is
only possible by creative inspiration and sagacity.
II
The concrete tasks of Russian missionary activity were
defined by the growth of the Empire. At first it was the
evangelization of an inhabited country, above all of a Slavonic
population. Then the movement spread into the region of
the Finnish tribes. Strictly speaking, the conversion of the
smaller Finnish tribes has never been completed. The influ-
ence of pagan inertia remained strong up to the last and
was responsible for the fact of masses falling back to paganism
after the Russian Revolution. In this respect the North-East
of European Russia may be taken as an example. The religion
of these Finnish tribes may be defined as animism with a
strongly developed belief in magic and sorcery; in. this sorcery
and still more in the sorcerers themselves lie the chief causes
of pagan stability.
In the sixteenth century the Russian Church came face
to face with Islam, and especially in the time of Ivan the
Terrible, after his conquests and annexation of the Tartar
kingdoms along the river Volga. The meeting with Islam
was rather hostile. It is true that many Tartar races accepted
baptism at once, but on the whole the mass of the Tartars
remained faithful to the traditions of their fathers, and it
was only for the sake of preserving their; national charac-
teristics that the principle of toleration was advanced against
any intrusion of the Orthodox mission into the secluded
world of the Tartars. The right course of making missionary
influence felt was found here only when the ideal of Tartar
Orthodoxy was brought forward openly and fearlessly. But
one has to bear in mind that the presence of a Russian mis-
sion amongst the local Moslems was only one of the incidents
of the great world struggle of Christianity with Islam, and
that it was always affected by the broad religious and polit-
ical perspective. The regions along the river Volga remained
the experimental fields for missionary work up to the last.
Here the old paganism was still preserved amongst the
natives, and all this country overlooked Asia with its re-
ligious zeal and inertia.
Here the Orthodox mission for the first time came into
touch with the Lamaism of the Kalmuck who migrated to
the province of Saratov at the end of the seventeenth cen-
tury. In the eighteenth century the circumstances of missionary
Russian Aiissions: An Historical Sketch 145
activities were not, in general, favorable: the State inter-
fered too powerfully with the affairs of the mission, pur-
suing its own interests, that is to say, getting the maximum
benefit for itself from the people. Often enough, indeed,
the State put obstacles in the way of the missionary work,
especially among Moslems, and generally speaking the
eighteenth century was a difficult period in the history of
the Russian Church, which was somewhat restrained by the
supervision of the State and weakened materially by the
secularization of her property. Only a few held fast at the
period of general indifference and spiritual backwardness.
The advance started again only at the beginning of the nine-
teenth century. This delay is very important to note. With
it are bound up the chief difficulties of the mission of the
nineteenth century. A new tradition began and was estab-
lished.
As a matter of fact it was only at the beginning of this
nineteenth century that the mission commenced its develop-
ment in the provinces along the river Volga. This was above
all due to the activities of the Bible Society and its branches.
In the first decade of the nineteenth century the New Testa-
ment was published in the following translations: Nogay,
Tartar, Tchuvash, Morduates, Tcheremiss, Kalmuck, Zirian,
Votiak and Korel. It must, however, be noted that these
translations are far from being always satisfactory and re-
liable.
At that same time native schools were opened and teach-
ing was commenced in the local dialects. Special courses were
organized in ecclesiastical seminaries for the training of
teachers and the more serious study of the native environ-
ment and the work to be undertaken by the mission were
organized in the Kazan Ecclesiastical Academy (founded in
1842). Here a special section of missionary training was
opened in 1854* In the year 1867 the missionary brotherhood
of St. Gouri was also started, which occupied itself with
the external and internal arrangements of the mission and
especially with the publishing work and the starting of
schools. In 1833 it was generally recognized in principle that
the performance of divine services in the local tongues was
admissible and desirable. A whole series of brotherhoods
came into being in other dioceses and a network of native
schools began to spread abroad. The missionary struggle
with Islam was particularly difficult because of the well-
developed network of Moslem schools and the great zeal
of the Moslem clergy. In order to succeed it was generally
necessary for the missionaries to break up the primitive form
of life and to work out new and independent ways of social
life for the neophytes.
One must point out yet another object of missionary
activities within the boundaries of European Russia, the
enlightenment of the Eskimo who led a nomadic life on
marshy plains in the Government of Archangel. Since the
twenties of the nineteenth century the whole New Testament
and catechism had been translated into the Eskimo tongue,
and a grammar and dictionary were compiled (Mission of
Archimandrite Veniamin Smirnov).
The missionary activities in Siberia were still more in-
tricate. There they had to preach to pagan Shamanists pre-
dominantly small Finnish tribes) and to the Moslems, and,
above all, to the Lamaists, and one must strictly distinguish
these different spheres of missionary work and the varied
methods that they required.
The great extent of territory and the roughness of the
climate fully explain the comparative slowness of regular
Church and even governmental organization. Small and
isolated oases sprang up in the midst of an empty, and, for
a long time, inimical world.
At the beginning of the eighteenth century one should
draw attention to the activities, full of inspiration (particu-
larly amongst the Finnish tribes) of Phylophei Leshchinski,
the missionary who was twice Bishop of Tobolsk, and
between these appointments became a monk. In spite of this
he carried on the missionary work, personally exposing his
life to great risks. He made several journeys to preach the
Gospel to the Ostiaks and Voguls, etc. To consolidate the
results, he opened schools and organized churches, though for
a long time the newly opened churches could only be served by
visiting chaplains. The new parishes were at enormous dis-
tances from each other, and consequently the chief centers,
monasteries and cathedral cities, were of great importance,
these providing the constant stream of active workers. It is
particularly necessary to note also the missionary expeditions
(in the middle of the eighteenth century) to Kamschatka,
whence Christianity spread across the islands to the Alaskan
shores of North America.
In the eighteenth century, also, there sprang up an
Orthodox mission in China, at Peking, principally on behalf
of the Russian prisoners of war who had settled there, but
also for the purpose of collecting information. But, generally
speaking, missionary work in the eighteenth century was
very insignificant. Its revival in Siberia begins only in the
nineteenth century, and once more we must emphasize the
rather unfriendly attitude adopted by the State towards the
Orthodox mission. In the eighteenth century, preaching to
the Kirgeeses was forbidden, and conversions to Islam were,
if anything, patronized. At the beginning of the nineteenth
century the Lamaian hierarchy was recognized by the State.
The spiritual awakening which followed conversion and bap-
tism troubled the local representatives of the government.
The raising of the tone of life meant that the pulse was
quickened and strengthened, and that appeared to be trouble-
some. In the eighteenth century the too zealous missionaries
were moved farther on, to places where there was no one
to convert. But at last, in the nineteenth century, several out-
standing and permanent missionary centers arose in Siberia,
amongst which the Altai mission deserves above all to be
noted. It was started in 1830 at the initiative of Evgeni
Kazantzev, at that time Archbishop of Tobolsk, and at the
head of it was placed the Archimandrite Makarios Gloukarev.
Archimandrite Makarios was a remarkable man, of great
spiritual earnestness and very profound, but rather exalted
by eschatological interests and those Utopian ideas which
were characteristic, even in the West, at the beginning of
the nineteenth century. Undoubtedly a mystic, and the trans-
lator of eastern and western mystics (tf.g., St. Teresa of
of Spain), he knew how to find common expression with
others and to sympathize even with the Quakers. He himself
led a very rigid, ascetic and evangelical life, and Metropolitan
Philaret, who knew him intimately and loved him, called
him a "romantic missionary." And, indeed, Makarios in-
troduced into his missionary work a literally romantic zeal
and ardor. He looked upon his missionary calling with
sincere humility and he tried to arrange it on the principles
of a strict communalism. "Let it be our rule that we should
possess everything in common, money, food, clothes, books
and everything else, and let this be a means of facilitating
our inspiration towards unanimity." It is an apostolic rather
than a monastic ideal. Makarios had few assistants, but with
them he succeeded in achieving unanimity. He did not hurry
to baptize, and during the thirteen years of his work he con-
verted only about 650 persons. In his work he laid great
stress on the "call to faith." He endeavored to attain spiritual
regeneration and to awaken sincere and sparkling faith in
sleeping souls. He preached Christ crucified, and great stress
was laid on re-education and the achievement of moral ideals.
In accordance with his ideas a sisterhood of widows and
young women was attached to the mission.
Makarios himself was much occupied with translations,
and at one time he was preoccupied with the idea of translat-
ing the Bible (especially from the Hebrew), but his work
was disapproved by the central authority, and to this resistance
he attached great importance. He worked out a general mis-
sionary scheme which was called "Some notes on the means
for an intensive propagation of the Christian Faith amongst
Russian Missions: An Historical Sketch
149
Jews, Moslems and heathen in the Russian Empir"^ (l 839).
Fo those destined to missionary work he considered it nec-
essary to establish in Kazan an educational missionary center,
a monastery-school for which a more elaborate scheme for
ecclesiastical and ethnographic education was to have been
worked out.
The full significance of Fr. Makarios' enterprise can only
be appreciated when the harsh and rugged nature of the
region of the Altai is borne in mind, and the poverty of the
mission as well (up to 1857 its budget was only 571 roubles
a year ).
After Makarios the Altai mission continued to flourish,
particularly under the management of Father Vladimir
Petrov, who later on became a bishop in the Altai, and died
Archbishop of Kazan. Still later another Makarios worked
there, who in the time of the Great War was Metropolitan
of Moscow. Less valuable work was done by the Obdorsk
and Surgut missions in the same diocese of Tobolsk.
In course of time the missionary duties were distributed
amongst the parish clergy, and they had to face the work
unaided by special missionary institutions. This step was
somewhat untimely and indiscreet. The missionary advance
ought to have continued constant and persistent in view of
the general low standard of life, and the absorbing influ-
ence of environment.
The second bright page in the history of the Siberian
mission opens with the activities of Archbishop Nilus in
Eastern Siberia (Irkutsk 1838 to 1853, depicted in Leskov's
famous novel On the Edge of the World) and in particular
of Innokenti Veniaminov, later Metropolitan of Moscow
after the death of Philaret.
Archbishop Nilus took an interest in mission work while
Bishop of Viatka, even before he was appointed to Siberia.
In Irkutsk and the Trans-Baikal region it was necessary to
preach to the Buriats who belonged to the Lamaian faith.
Nilus worked a great deal on the translation of Church books
into the Mongol-Buriat language and still carried on that
work after his reappointment to Yaroslavl'. Innokenti Veni-
aminov commenced his work on the Aleutian Islands, which
at that time belonged to Russia. Here he preached to the
Kolpshes and the Aleutes for about fifteen years. He studied
local dialects, compiled a grammar and a dictionary and
began to make translations; he also left us a description of
the country and the ways of life there. According to his
scheme made in 1840, the mission at that time in the Russian
possessions in North America was legally organized and
placed under the management of the Bishop of Kamschatka.
Innokenti was appointed to the bishop's throne, and for
twenty-eight years he worked in this new country, new and
yet his by birthright. His diocese covered enormous distances,
and most of his time was spent in travelling. His assistants
translated the Church books into the Yakut and Tungus
tongues.
Mission work against the Lamaian faith in the Trans-
Baikal Country was most difficult; yet many improvements
were made there by Parpheni Popov, the Archbishop of
Irkutsk, and later on by the Archbishop Veniamin Blago-
nravov. The mission in China never could attain any noticeable
growth, though a great work was done in translation, and the
mission at Peking was the general center of sinological studies
for a long time. The mission workers were in consequence
more prominent for their scientific than for their apostolic
achievements. China is in general a very difficult country
and unfavorable for missionary work.
In a very different way the life of the Russian mission
in Japan was progressing. Of course, it was very much owing
to the personal qualities and exploits of the first of the
Russian missionaries Nikolai Kazatkin, who, later on, became
Archbishop of Japan, or rather its apostle in the true sense
of the word. He began his work in 1861, soon after Japan
opened her doors to Europeans and prior to the declaration
of toleration. Yet the mission began to grow very quickly.
Russian Missions: An Historical Sketch
151
Again the method of translation was adopted and many
years were spent in the translation of the Christian service
books, and a net of Orthodox parishes spread gradually all
over Japan.
In the history of the Japanese Orthodox Church one is
struck by the astonishing simplicity and strength of the im-
mediate corporate Church feeling. Parish life goes on very
actively and intensively. Diocesan meetings with the parish-
ioners participating are organized every year. The work of
the catechists goes on slowly and steadily and the cultural
level of Japanese Orthodoxy is sufficiently high for it to
spread also among educated people. For many years an
ecclesiastical seminary existed in Tokyo, and the Japanese
Church has long ago become an independent diocese with
complete internal status and management and is canonically
a member of the Moscow patriarchate.
I ll
Missionary work does not lend itself well to schemes of
management and organization issued from the center. It is,
above all, the work of pastoral creative power and inspiration.
Therefore it depends much more upon the personality of
the individuals who are the active workers than upon plans
and programmes, and that is why the history of a mission
is bound up closely with names. Therefore, too, missionary
work often progresses spasmodically and stops altogether at
intervals. And yet it is very important that the personal initia-
tive should find an encouraging response, sympathy and facili-
ties in the whole Church body. Therefore when in 1865 the
Orthodox Missionary Society was inaugurated this was con-
sidered an event of great importance. Its work, however,
became really effective only after its reorganization in 1869,
when Innokenti, at that time Metropolitan of Moscow, be-
came its president and its activities became more interwoven
with the metropolitan see.
The missionary society had its branches in the centers
of work and took the financial cares of the mission and its
parishes upon itself. Yet there was another important task
which required organized help, the scientific and scholastic
training of the missionaries who were in need of good knowl-
edge and understanding of the environment in which they
would have to work. It was necessary to know the language
of the people, their history and their ways of living, all lead-
ing on to an understanding of the soul. It was necessary to
see how to approach that soul with the word of Christ's
truth, and for this, knowledge of a language and folklore
is not alone sufficient. The specific blending of an apostolic
divine light and the pathos of a stranger's philosophy is
essential and these qualities are more easily to be found in
natives.
The necessity for a high ecclesiastical missionary school
was not realized at once. Only in 1854 was a special mis-
sionary section opened in the Kazan Ecclesiastical Academy,
and it was left there even after reforms had been introduced
in ecclesiastical schools in general in 1870. A specific teaching
of missionary subjects had already begun in 1845 with the
participation of the professors of the Kazan University, but
as a matter of fact the studies were concentrated exclusively
on languages.
Names such as Sabloukov, Ilminsky, Bobrovnikov, are
important and unforgettable in the history of the Kazan
Academy. Sabloukov was a man self-taught in Arabic
and Tartar philology. By hard work, fired by scientific
enthusiasm and a natural love of work, he attained to pro-
found erudition not only in the languages themselves but in
history and archaeology as well. His translation of the Koran
is especially well known. Not all the books written by him
were published; many of them perished in a fire at his home.
His teaching in the Academy and his participation in all

missionary undertakings amongst the Tartars meant very
much.
Still more important was the work of Ilminsky, who
arranged his work of preaching to the Tartars in system-
atic order. Ilminsky was adverse to the method of polemics.
He tried to work out a scheme of preaching for the
purpose of conversion. He not only had scholastic and theo-
retic training, but understood intimately the life and ways of
the local Tartars. He visited their villages and lived amongst
them for some time in order to penetrate intimately into
their manner of life. He also in 1851-3 travelled in the east
with many stops along the way, making long stops at Cairo,
Lebanon and Constantinople. As the outcome of this practical
acquaintance with the mass of the people he came to a very
important conclusion with regard to translations. He insisted
on the necessity of these being made in the living conversa-
tional Tartar language and not in the literary language, and
this was of the utmost importance. In the first place the
literary language of the Tartars was laden with Arabic and
Persian words and had a general flavor of Islam, and by the
use of colloquial speech it was possible to escape that
hidden Moslem taint. Secondly, the translation into a col-
loquial tongue requires great creative powers and intensity
on the part of the translator and this was exactly what
Ilminsky wanted. He was aiming at the formation of a
specific Christian Tartar language in opposition to an Islamic
one and saw in this an important step in the matter of
preaching. The language itself was not to him something
already developed and stationary, it was a living spiritual
element which it was possible to transmute and transfigure.
With this was connected a scheme for working out a whole
network of Christian Tartar schools with the teaching car-
ried on in the tongue of the people. Thirdly, there was in
view the democratization of the mission, which spread far
and wide among the masses, avoiding the book-learned and
the aristocrats. Ilminsky's scheme was a complete system for
the Christian transformation of the Tartars, yet without the
least trace of any Russification. A note should also be made
about the Arabic letters which he changed into Russian,
as being more convenient, since he saw in the Arabic alphabet
the presence of Moslem culture while that of Russia bore
the symbols of Christianity. He did not believe in the fruit-
fulness of any preaching unless done in the people's own
tongue. "Christianity as a living principle should work s
a leaven in the thoughts and feelings and after having taken
shape in men of advanced minds it should come from and
through them to others. We believe that the evangelical word
of our Saviour Jesus Christ, having become incarnate, so to
speak, in the living tongue of the Tartars and through it
having associated itself most sincerely with their deepest
thoughts and religious consciousness, would produce the
Christian revival of this tribe." Nevertheless, Ilminsky's
scheme did not spring into being at once nor without some
opposition both in the Kazan district and in Turkestan.
A net-work of schools, with a seminary as a center at
Kazan, was organized and Ilminsky was appointed director
of the seminary. Yet the most important work was still
translating. This required great creative power and for it
Ilminsky found help amongst the baptized Tartars. Further-
more, the introduction of divine service in the Tartar lan-
guage proved one of the most effective missionary methods.
Of Ilminsky's assistants and followers should be mentioned
such persons as the Archpriest Malov, Ostrooumov, and the
Tartar Timofeiev. The principles laid down by Ilminsky
were also applied to other spheres of missionary enterprise
among the natives. In connection with the study of aati-
Lamaian controversies, there were no such outstanding orga-
nizers in the Kazan Academy as this man.
A. A. Bobrovnikov was a great authority on the Mongol-
Buriat dialect and he compiled the first successful Mongol-
Kalmuck grammar of that period. A native of the Irkutsk
district and the son of a missionary, he felt, when mingling
with the Buriats, an intimate nearness to this Mongol peo-
ple. His book studies were supplemented by his scientific
expeditions. Yet he was not a man of initiative and could
not find the true methods of translating though he did expose
some faults of the previous literary translations. In spite of
all its incompleteness the work done by the Kazan Academy
was of great importance for the help given to the mis-
sionaries to penetrate into the souls of non-Europeans, and
it has not even yet been fully appreciated or used to the
uttermost.
IV
Russian missionary work amongst the foreign tribes was
put an end to forcibly. The Gospel of Christ on Russian soil
became an impossibility and as a consequence a return to
former beliefs took place especially among the Shamaist
tribes in the districts of the river Volga and in Siberia, though
at one time for some reason a partial freedom was enjoyed
by Islam.
It is not given to us to foresee the future or to make
guesses with regard to the fate of the Christian Faith among
the native tribes of Russia; but we can, and it is necessary
that we should, look back, so as to understand and consider
well the lessons of the past which bear on the words: "Who-
soever shall do and teach them the same shall be called
great in the Kingdom of Heaven." {Matt. v. 19.)
Western Influences
in Russian Theology
T
HE QUESTION concerning Western influences on Ortho-
dox Theology is a complex one. This question is still
often raised today, sometimes sharply and with excitement.
According to Metropolitan Antonii Khrapovitskii (d. 1936),
the whole development of Russian Theology since the 17th
century, as taught in the schools, was but a dangerous bor-
rowing from heterodox Western sources. And, for that
reason, according to him, it must be completely disavowed
and eliminated.
The system of Orthodox theology is still something
to seek for, and, for that reason, one must identify
and examine its genuine sources instead of copying
systems of heretical doctrines, as it has been our
Custom for 200 years.
1
.
This paper was first presented to the First Congress of Orthodox Theology
at Athens in 1936.
This article originally appeared as "Westliche Einflsse in der Russischen
Theologie" in Kyrios, II, No. 1 (Berlin, 1937), 1-22 as well as in Procs-
Verbaux du Premier Congrs de Theologie Orthodoxe (Athens, 1939).
Reprinted by permission of the author. Translated from the German by
Thomas Bird and Richard Haugh.
157
Many got the impression that Russian theology had been
entirely disfigured by Western influences. Thus the conviction
arose that a basic and decisive redirection of the whole
theological task was necessary, a radical return to the ignored
and forgotten sources of genuine and patristic Orthodoxy.
This return implies denial and abrogation. There is a bit of
truth in such assertions. "The Struggle against the West*'
in Russian Theology can be justified. There are certainly
enough occasions and reasons to justify this attitude. And it
is precisely the history of these Western influences and bor-
rowings in Orthodox Theology which has still not been suf-
ficiently explored. One must, by all means, always start with
an exact description of the facts.
In this short essay one must be content with a selection
of a limited number of facts, the most important, decisive
or distinctive ones. For a fuller presentation of the problem
I would refer the reader to my book, Puti russkogo bogoslo-
viia [The Ways of Russian Theology] (Paris: YMCA-Press,
vii, 574 pp. [in Russian]).
I
The traditional view of the complete isolation and en-
closure of Ancient Russia was discarded long ago. Ancient
"Rus"' was never fully cut off from the West. And this
connection with the West asserted itself not only in the
political or economic sphere but also in the sphere of
spiritual development, even in the realm of religious culture.*
Byzantine influence indeed prevailed, but it was by no means
the only influence. One must acknowledge a weakening of
Byzantine influence already in the 16th century, a crisis of
Russian Byzantinism. The Western relations of Novgorod
were the most conspicuous and continuous. And precisely in
the 14th and 15 th centuries this city became the religious
and cultural center, the center for the entire Russian North
and East. Moscow, rapidly rising at that time, was still for
the most part culturally dependent upon sources from
Novgorod. Books were supplied precisely from this Northern
democracy.
8
At that time, under the stimulus of Archbishop Gennadii,
a most responsible work was initiatedthe compiling of the
first complete Slavic Biblical Codex. The Bible had not been
originally translated into Slavic as a uniform and complete
book but rather as a collection of liturgical readings based
on the order and cycle of the liturgical yearand this
translation did not include the whole of the Biblical text;
the non-canonical books of the Old Testament were not
translated since they are scarcely represented in Eastern
lectionaries. The general supervision and execution of the
work at Novgorod was officially in the hands of the bishop's
archdeacon, Gerasim Popovka. The actual spiritual leader,
however, was a Dominican monk named Benjamin, who,
according to the words of the chronicler, was "a priest and
a monk from the order of St. Dominic* by birth a Slav, by
faith a Latin." We do not know much more about him.
But one can hardly assume that this Dominican monk from
Croatia came to Novgorod just by accident. Apparently he
had brought with him some completed Biblical texts. Indeed
the influence of the Vulgate is strongly felt in the Biblical
Codex of Gennadii, for the Vulgate and not Greek manu-
scripts served as the model for the text. The non-canonical
books were included in the Codex according to Latin usage.
The Books of Paralipomenon, the third book of Ezra, the
Book of Wisdom, and the first two books of Maccabees
were translated in entirety from the Latin. One student of
"the manuscript tradition of the Slavic Bible" [Prof. I. E.
Evseev} characterizes the significance of the Codex of Gen-
nadii as "the turning of the Slavic Bible from the Greek
"waterway" to the Latin." And one should not forget that
it was precisely "the Gennadii Bible** upon which the first
Slavic edition of the Ostrog Bible (1580) was based. At this
opportunity the text was, to be sure, once again revised and
compared (after printed editions) with the Greekthe
entire historical significance of the Ostrog Bible is indeed
determined by the fact that it is based on the Greek text
however, the slipping away into the Latin channel was never-
theless not fully overcome. With certain improvements the
Ostrog text was reproduced in the "Elizabethan Bible" of
1751and this is the presently used text.
4
In the "house of
the archbishop" Gennadii much was translated from the
Latin. During the work on the new liturgical order, the
famous book by V. Durantius, Rationale divinorum offi-
ciorum, was (at least partially) translated, presumably for
reference. Judging from the language, it seems the translator
was a foreigner, i.e. not a Russianonce again it was
probably the monk Benjamin. Also translated from Latin at
this time was the "Short Word against Those Who Claim
Possession of Holy Things, Moveable or Immoveable, from
the Cathedral Churches"a defense of Church property and
of the complete independence of the clerical class, which
thereby also possesses the right "to act with the aid of the
secular arm." Also well-known is the significant reference
of Gennadii to the "Spanish King," about whom the imperial
envoys related that he "purified" his land of heretics by state
executions.
5
There is good reason to speak of a "very dominant
Catholic atmosphere" surrounding Gennadii [I. E. Evseev].
Russian iconography of the 15th and 16th centuries was also
penetrated by Western motives and themes, again coming
from Novgorod and Pskov to Moscow where they were con-
tested in certain circles as innovations or perversions: herein
lies the historical significance of the well-known "Doubt" of
D'jak I. M. Viskovatii concerning the new icons. The Church
authorities, however, were in favor of these innovations,
regarding them as something ancient. In. any case, Western
influence now asserted itself quite noticeably even in the
sacred art of iconography.
6
' 'Western* ' means, in this case,
Latin or Roman. And "the marriage of the Tsar in the
Vatican" was the symbol of the movement toward the West.
Indeed, this marriage signified Moscow's drawing nearer to
the Italy of that time rather than reviving Byzantine tradi-
tions. It is characteristic that the Kremlin Cathedrals were
built or rebuilt at that time by Italian craftsmen. And indeed
these new Moscow buildings were, as Herberstein describes
them, expressly more italico.
7
Even more characteristic was
the fact that Maxim the Greek, summoned to Moscow from
the monastery of Vatopaedi on Mt. Athos to aid in the
work of translation, could find no one in all of Moscow who
could speak Greek with him. "He speaks Latin and we
translate it into Russian for the scribes' 'the translator was
Dmitrii Gerasimov, a former student and assistant of Ben-
jamin.
8
It would indeed be totally false to interpret all these
facts as proof of a Roman sympathy at Novgorod or Moscow.
It was rather a half unconscious assimilation of foreign \
spiritual values with the naive conviction that one could still i
remain loyal to the native and traditional truth. Thus, simul-
taneously, a "Western" psychology strangely united itself
with an intolerance toward the West.
II
.1
On the other side of the Moscow border the encounter
with the West was more direct and more intimate. In
Lithuania and in Poland this was at first an encounter with
the Reformation and with "Socinianism," and later on with
the Roman Church, the Jesuit order and the "Unia." Since
the circumstances surrounding the struggle for the Orthodox
Church were exceedingly complicated and difficult, it was
simply psychologically unavoidable to make certain ac-
commodations with heterodox allies, associates, rivals, and
even enemies. At first a Hellenistic orientation was strongly
emphasizedas the ideal and goal of Slavo-Greek culture
in the Ostrog Circle and in Lemberg [Lvov] at the home of
Prince Ostrozhskii himself. There were many reasons why
this goal was abandoned, indeed why it had to be abandoned.
Even in the Ostrog Circle the mood was unsteady and the
opinions divergent.
The practical wisdom of life pushed one toward the
West. In the face of the threat of

'Unia," the Orthodox
were the obvious, occasionally even the unwilling, "con-
federates* * of the Protestants and "Heterodox.'* And many
were prepared to go even beyond simple religious and
practical assistance; in this respect, for example, the attitude
of the Orthodox and Calvinists at the Conference and in the
"Confederation" at Vilna (before 1599) is quite charac-
teristic. Even Prince K. Ostrozhskii thought it proper to com-
mission the Socinian Motovila to translate the Orthodox
refutation of Peter Skarga's book, On the Greek Apostasy, a
project against which Prince A. M. Kurbskii, the implacable
fugitive from Moscow, protested with the greatest indigna-
tion. And the Orthodox reply to Skarga's book about the
Council of Brest was actually written by a Calvinistthe
well-known "Apokrisis" was published in 1587 under the
name of Christopher Philaletes. There is good reason to
presume that the pseudonym actually belonged to the well-
known diplomat of that time, Martin Bronevskii, the secretary
to King Stephen Batorii, who was deeply involved in the
confederation of the Orthodox and the Evangelicals. In the
"Apokrisis" itself one notices occasionally an obvious simi-
larity with Calvin's Institutio Christianae religionist
There was, however, in all this no conscious betrayal of
Orthodox tradition and no real inclination toward Protestan-
tism. More important and more dangerous, however, was
Western Influences'in Russian Theology 163
the ever-increasing custom among Russian writers of dis-
cussing religious and theological questions within a Western
frame of reference. At this time, however, refuting Latinism
did not mean strengthening Orthodoxy. Especially since even
the arguments of the Reformers were employed in the
polemical discussions of that time, arguments which cer-
tainly could not always harmonize with the basic tenets of
Orthodoxy. Historically this admixture of Protestantism was
perhaps unavoidable, but under its influence the "way" of
a Slavic and Hellenic culture became dim and obscure. In
addition to this was the fact that one could no longer rely
upon the Greeks for help. In fact, at that time Greek teachers
usually came from the West where they had studied. Whether
they had studied at Venice, Padua, Rome, or even at Geneva
or Wittenbergfrom none of these centers did the Greeks
bring with them the Byzantine heritage or the patristic
legacy. Rather they brought precisely Western innovations.
In the 16th century their sympathies were generally with the
Protestants; later there emerged a slightly covert Latinism.
Thus there was some truth in the malicious, ironic words of
the Uniate Metropolitan Hypatius Pociei, when he wrote to
Patriarch Meletius Pigas that Calvin has replaced Athanasius
in Alexandria, Luther rules in Constantinople, and Zwingli
in Jerusalem.
10
It is sufficient to recall the "Confession" of
Cyril Lukaris, the authenticity of which can no longer be
doubted. This unexpected presentation of Calvinism by the
Orthodox Patriarch can be partially explained as a result of
his studies at Geneva. It can also be partially explained by
the fact that he was in West Russia precisely at the time
of the common struggle against the " Presumably it
was there that he got the idea of a "Confederation" with
the representatives of the Swiss Confession.
The influence of the Reformation in Western Russia
was only temporary. Soon the opposite tendency prevailed-an
enthusiasm for the Roman pattern. The significance of this
,
change is illustrated/by the figure of the famous Metropolitan
of Kiev, Peter Mogila, whose historical influence was decisive.
An entire epoch in the history of the Church and culture of
West Russia is, quite rightly, denoted by his name. He and
his disciples were openly and decidedly pro-Western. At
its root, however, this "Westernism" was really a disguised
Romanism. Although Mogila had certainly fought for the
legal independence of the Kievan Church and had supported
the resistance of the Orthodox Church against the "Unia,"
there was however on many points no doctrinal difference
between him and Rome. For that reason he used Latin
sources quite easily and unhesitatingly, assuming that he
would rediscover in them true, undistorted Orthodoxy. There
was a certain inexplicable discrepancy in the image of Peter
Mogila. He led the West Russian Church out of its helpless-
ness and decay from which it had suffered so much since the
Council of Brest. Thanks to Mogila, it received a legal status
in the Republic of Poland. But the whole structure was at the
same time reconstructed in a new and alien spirita Latin
spirit. The struggle surrounding all Mogila's plans and pro-
jects was caused by two opposing viewsthe Western and the
Helleno-Slavic. Peter Mogila also rendered an indubitable but
ambiguous service with the establishment of the Kiev Col-
legium. For it was a Latin school. Not only was it a "Latiniza-
tion" of language, custom, and theology but it was also a
"Latinization" of the entire religious psychology: thus the very
soul of the people was once again Latinized. And, oddly
enough, all this occurred in the name of the most extremely
national and political struggle against Rome and Poland.
Because of this, internal independence was indeed lost, rela-
tions with the East were sundered; an alien, artificial and
borrowed direction was adopted which often enough in the
future unfortunately obstructed the pathos of creativity.
Mogila was not alone in his crypto-Romanism. He rather
expressed the spirit of his time. The basic and most signifi-
]
cantly expressive monument of his epoch is the so-called
ft
Orthodox Confession/'It is difficult to assert with any
certainty who the author or editor of this "Catechism" was; |
generally it is thought to be Mogila himself, although it was
in fact a collective work of several assistants. It was obviously
composed originally in Latin and in this original draft one
notices a much stronger influence of Latin models than in
the definitive version which underwent a critical revision at
the conferences in Kiev (1640) and in Jassy (1642). The
instances here of borrowing and imitation are actually less ;
important than the fact that the Confessio Orthodoxa in its
entirety was merely an accommodation to, indeed an ''adapta- !|
tion" of Latin materials. In any case, it is more closely con- j|
nected with the Roman Catholic writings of that time than !
with the spiritual life of Orthodoxy or the traditions of the !
Eastern Fathers. Particular Roman doctrinesfor example, j
the doctrine of the primacy of the Popeare rejected here,
but the general style remains nevertheless Roman. The same \
is true of Peter Mogila's liturgical reform. His famous Book \
of Ritual or' Euchologion (1646) is heavily influenced by the j
Ritual of Pope Paul V, from which the introductory explan- j
tions of particular rites and ceremonies were taken almost ;
verbatim.
11
Mogila's Kiev Collegium soon became the central j
base of this imitative Latinism not only for the Southern ;|
and Western parts of Russia but also for the Muscovite J
North. Kievan religious literature of the 17th century was
completely dependent on Latin sources and patterns. It is j
sufficient to mention the name of Stefan Iavorskii, who later, j
1
under the reign of Peter the Great, went north. His "Rock
of the Faith" ["Kamen' Very""\ was actually only a "sum-
mary," a shortened "compilation" of various Latin works, j
mainly of Bellarmine's Disputationes de controversis chri-
stianae fidei. His book about the coming of the Anti-
Christ is patterned after the book by the Spanish Jesuit
Malvenda.
12
The essence of this Roman pseudo-morphosis lies
in the fact that Scholasticism screened and obstructed Patristics
for the Russians. It was a psychological and cultural Latiniza-
tion rather than a matter of creed.
Nevertheless the scales of doctrine were also shaken.
Under Peter the Great theological schools or seminaries were
also established throughout Great Russia precisely according
to the southern, Kievan model. These schools were
thoroughly Latin and their teachers were for a long time
recruited from the "institutes" of the Southwest. Even the
Slavic-Greek-Latin Academy in Moscow had used Kiev as its
model and pattern. This Petrine reform, however, also meant
a "Ukrainianization" in the history of ecclesiastical schools.
There was, as it were, a migration of South Russians to the
north where they were regarded as foreigners for two reasons :
their schools were "Latin" and they were themselves
"foreigners." In his distinguished book on the theological
schools of the 18th century Znamenskii passes the following
sharp judgment (see Anm. 1, p. 216) : "For the student,
all these educators were in the fullest sense of the word
aliens from a foreign land"Little Russia" was regarded
at that time as a foreign land. It had its own peculiar customs
and conceptions, and a strange "scholarship." Its language
was difficult to understand and sounded odd to the Great
Russians. In addition, these teachers never tried at all to adapt
themselves to their students or to the country to which they
had been called. Rather, they openly despised the Great Rus-
sians, considered them savage, and derided them. They found
fault with everything which was not similar to their own
"Little Russian" ways. They pushed their way of life in the
foreground, forcing it on everyone as the proper style of
life. This was a time when one could consecrate only "Little
Russians" (Ukrainians) as bishops arid archimandrites since
the government was suspicious of Great Russians, presuming
that they were sympathetic with pre-Petrine customs.
The people accepted the establishment of Latin schools
only reluctantly and with great distrust. And only unwillingly
did the clergy entrust their children to these schools. And
even the students themselves frequently ran away. All this
took place not because the clerical estate was addicted to
superstition or engrossed in ignorance, but because they con-
sidered these schools as something unfamiliar and foreign
as an unwanted Latin-Polish colony in the homeland, as an
* 'institution" which, even from a purely practical point of
view, could only appear useless. The "practical mind"
regarded "Latin grammar" as of little use as well as the
"fine manners" which were cultivated in the seminaries. For
the "practical mind" there was absolutely no reason to
replace the traditional manner of preparation for the priest-
hoodat one's own homewith new, unaccustomed and
dubious ways. "It still remained to be seen who in general
was better prepared for the priesthood: the psalm-reader who,
from youth on, had served in the Church, learning in a
practical way the readings, the hymns, and the order of
services; or, the student of Latin who had merely memorized
some Latin vocabulary and inflexions" (Znamenskii), In
these Latin schools one began to become almost unaccustomed
to Church Slavoniceven the texts of Scripture were usually
quoted in Latin. Grammar, rhetoric and poetics were taught
in Latin, while Russian rhetoric was taught only on the
higher levels. It is understandable that parents sent their
children to "these cursed schools of torture" only with mis-
trust. And the children preferred even the penitentiary to
such schools. Indeed the depressive feeling soon developed
that one could lose, if not his faith then at least his nationality,
in these newly established schools. In general the establish-
ment of the schools was obviously a positive achievement.
But the extension of these Latin schools into the territory of
Great Russia meant a break in the Church's mentalitya
!
j
split between theological "learning" and the experience of
the Church: one still prayed in Slavonic but thought in Latin.
The same Scriptural words resounded from the floor of the
school in international Latin, but resounded from the floor
of the Church in the maternal Slavic language. This painful
split in the very spiritual mentality itself is perhaps the
most tragic result of the Petrine epoch. There developed a
certain "duality of faith/* in any case a spiritual division,
a disunity of the soul.
13
A Western culture, indeed a Western
theology was established. It was a "school of theology" which
of course had no roots in life. Established and grown on an
alien foundation, it now became, as it were, a "super-
structure" built over an empty spot. Instead of growing on
natural foundations, it rested solely on props. A theology on
propsthat is the result of the theological Westernization
in 18th century Russia.
I l l
Theological instruction in the schools still remained Latin
in character even when the "Romish" orientation was replaced
by that of the Reformation or, more correctly, by the influence
of early Protestant scholasticism. And it retained its Latin
character even when the influence of Aquinas in philosophy
was replaced by the authority of Christian Wolff. The lan-
guage of instruction remained Latin and both the "structure"
of the school and its education remained Western. The
Protestant trend is associated first of all with the name and
influence of Theophan Prokopovich, the well-known close
collaborator of Peter the Great, the latter's advisor and
executor in all reforms of ecclesiastical life, and the compiler
of the "Spiritual Reglament" ["Dukhovnyi Reglament"\
Theophan's theological lectures, given in the Kiev Academy,
were published much later in Latin (in Leipzig 1782-1784),
but they had circulated earlier in manuscript form and had
influenced the new turn in theology. In his dogmatic lectures
or "tracts" Theophan followed Western models rather closely
J
Western Influences in Russian Theology
169
he seems to depend especially upon Amandus Polanus from
Polansdorf and upon the latter's Syntagma Theologiae
Christianae (1609). He systematically used Johann Gerhard's
Loci communes. He was, however, not just a compiler even
when he followed foreign masters. Well read and 'knowledge-
able of contemporary literature, he was thoroughly in control
of his material, handling and adjusting it in his own manner.
One point is in any case beyond doubt: he was not just "con-
nected" with Protestant scholasticism of the 17th century;
he simply belonged to their tradition. He was not only under
the influence of Protestantism, but he was simply a Protestant
himself (A. V. Kartashov). His works actually belong to
the history of German theology of the Reformation. And if
there was not on his books the name of a Russian bishop,
it would be most natural to seek the author among the pro-
fessors of some Evangelical theological faculty. Everything
he wrote was permeated by the atmosphere of the Reforma-
tion, by the Western spirit. This atmosphere can be traced
everywherein the entire manner of his thought and expres-
sions. It is not just a man writing under Western influence,
but one who is a Western man himselfa foreigner.
Theophan looked at Orthodoxy as though he himself were a
Westerner. He did not know or experience Orthodoxy from
within. He was pre-occupied with Western problems and
controversies, completely taking the side of the Reformation.
The entire pathos of his tracts was directed against Rome
and he was never able to extricate himself from the "enchant-
ing sphere" of the polemics of Western confessional the-
ology.
14
In his well-known book Stefan lavorskii and Theophan
Prokopovich, Iurii Samarin wanted to present the clash of
Romish and Reformation trends as a moment of an alleged
inner ^'dialectic of Russian theological thought." One can
hardly speak about any such organic process here. It was
simply a confrontation of foreign influences and because of
the opposition of these influences Russian theological thought
was only narrowed. One cannot speak of any inner spon-
taneous dialectic. There was rather a forcible pseudomor-
phosis of Orthodox thought. The Orthodox were forced to
think in essentially alien categories and to express themselves
in foreign concepts. At most theological seminaries and
academies the instruction in the second half of the 18th
century was based on Western Protestant manuals. Since
Latin was used as the common scholarly and instructional
language, even the trouble of translation was not necessary.
Metropolitan Philaret recalled that he had studied theology
at school from the textbook by Hollatz (d. 1713). Certain
sections of the textbook were simply dictated in class. Other
parts of the course were taken from the manuals by Quenstedt
or from I. A. Turretini (d. 1737). But even manuals written
by Russians themselves did not deviate much from Western
modelsthis is true of the Doctrine written by Theophylakt
Gorskii (Leipzig 1784), the Compendium by Iakinth Kar-
pinskii (Leipzig 1786), the Compendium by Silvester
Lebedinskii (1799 and 1805), as well as Irenei Falkovskii's
manual (1802!), a manual faithfully based on Theophan
Prokopovich. One would seek in vain for any independent
thought in all these compendia and tracts. These were books
for memorization, presenting a "theology of the school/' a
ballast of formal school tradition. By habit, certain Protestant
doctrines were acceptedtheir doctrine of Scripture and
Tradition, their definition of the Church, and their concept
of Justification.
In the second half of the 18 th century the powerful
stream of Pietism was added to the previous influence of
Protestant Scholasticism. One only needs to mention the name
of Simeon Todorskii (1701-1754), who died as Bishop of
Pskov. Previously, however, he had been for a while a
teacher at the famous Waisenhaus in Halle where he
translated Johann Arndt's Wahres Christentum into Russian,
basing his translation on the 1735 Halle-edition. Most signifi-
cant in this connection is Platon Levshin (1737-1811), the
famous Metropolitan of Moscow under Catherine II, later
described so appropriately by the historian of the Academy,
S. K. Smirnov, as "to some extent the Peter Mogila of the
Moscow Academy." Platon was more of a preacher and
catechist than a systematic theologian. But his "catechisms,"
sermons or "initial instructions in Christian doctrine,"
delivered in Moscow while he was still in his early years
(1757-1758), marked a change in the history of theology
itself. His instructional lectures given to the Grand Duke
(the future Emperor) Paul were published in 1765 under the
title Orthodox Doctrine or Christian Theology in Summary.
This was the first attempt at a theological system in the
Russian language. Nevertheless, this "theological book" was
also inevitably translated into Latin for the theological
schools. And it was Platon himself who insisted on this, for
he also believed that theological instruction in a language
other than Latin would be a lowering of scholarly standards.
His view was especially remarkable since it came from one
who was such a zealous fighter for the "catechization of
the people," a popularizer of Christian faith and Christian
morals. Even in his old age, before the Patriotic War of
1812, Platon was greatly excited when the plan of using
Russian as the instructional language at theological schools
was brought up. He vigorously and constantly advised against
this. In Platon's Russian writings one clearly sees the com-
plete inadequacy of confused theological definitions and
descriptions which he took from his Latin sources. He had
much more interest in morals than in the doctrines of faith.
Throughout the entire 18th century the doctrines of the
Church, of Tradition, of the Sacramentsthese remained
quite undeveloped.
15
The Reform of Russian theological schools at the begin-
ning of the reign of Alexander I was not a return to Byzantine
or Eastern foundations. The entire reform was concerned
more with the spirit of Pietism, of "inner Christianity"
rather than with the corporate life of the Church. As pre-
viously, instruction remained closely bound up with the
patterns of Western schools in which pietistic moralism and
a certain inclination toward mysticism was conspicuous at
that time. Innerly the schools remained Western. Yet an
opposite tendency was taking place which later overcame
the split between "school" and "life": instruction could be
given in Russian. The goal of the new theological "school
reform" was to awaken both society and the people, to urge
them on to higher spiritual interests, and to stimulate a
religious and moral independence. This intention was, of
course, organically connected with the entire Zeitgeist of
that epoch; it was rooted in the mystical inclinations of the
epoch, the epoch of the Holy Alliance and the Bible Societies.
The "Latin Captivity" could easily be replaced by a German
or English "captivity," only in the place of scholasticism
there arose the danger of vague mysticism and German
Theosophy. From that time on the shadow of German
scholarship falls over the whole of Russian theology for
quite some timemuch to its detriment. Since that time it
became a standard practice in Russian theological academies
to learn German as the basic language of theology in general.
Despite this, it was a step forward, the beginning of
a creative rise. Although much was unsound in this new
pseudo-morphosis, it was nevertheless a sickness unto life
and unto growth and not a sickness unto death or degenera-
tion. Between the two extremes of mystical and philosophical
enthusiasm on the one hand, and mistrustful fears on the
other, the narrow and precipitous way of Church Theology was
gradually discovered. Outstanding in this epoch is the majestic
figure of Philaret, Metropolitan of Moscow (1782-1867),
perhaps the most significant Russian theologian of earlier
times. He too had studied in a Latin school and had grown
Western Influences in Russian Theology lib
up under the gentle guidance of Metropolitan Platon in the
seminary at Troitsko-Sergievskii Monastery where that
mixture of pietism and scholasticism dominated at that time.
In his young years he passed through the mystical movement
and was also a convinced supporter of the Bible Society. One
can also find certain traces of these "Protestant" and "mys-
tical" influences in his later theological works. In general,
however, his Weltanschauung remained ecclesial. With
Philaret begins the real liberation of Russian theology not
only from Western influences but from Westernization in
general. It occurred in the only way which could have
achieved lasting resultsthat is, by a creative return to
Patristic foundations and sources, by a return to the Fathers
of the Churchthis was the true source of inspiration for
Philaret and served as the criterion of his own presentation.
Externally Philaret did not immediately break away from the
earlier "old-Protestant" traditions of the Russian schools,
from the tradition of Prokopovich. There is much in Philaret's
own expressions which reflect the influence of Protestant
doctrines or which simply reveal a borrowing from Protestant
sources. In his Survey of Theological Scholarshipj prepared
in 1814 for the St. Petersburg Academy, he himself refers
the reader to Protestant works. That characteristic impreci-
sion or defectiveness of conceptual definitions in his early
writings, often pointed out by Philaret's enemies, originated
from these Protestant sources-especially striking was his
omission of Holy Tradition as an authoritative doctrinal
guide, which was not mentioned at all in the first edition
of his Catechism. However, this omission does not in fact
indicate so much an error or inaccuracy of thought, but rather
it was a matter of the common habit of that time.
Psychologically the reversion to Scholasticism and to
Romanizing moods is thoroughly understandable and ex-
plainable in connection with the reforms of the Chief Pro-
kurator of the Holy Synod under Nicholas I, Count Pratasov.
Yet this return to the Romanizing formulations of the 17th
and 18th centuries, to the Orthodox Confession of Peter
Mogila, to the works of St. Dmitrii of Rostov, or to Stefan
Iavorskii's Rock of Faith proved fruitless because it offered
no creative exit from the historical difficulties of Russian
theology. The inclination to Protestantism could only be
overcome by a return to the historical sources of Eastern
Orthodoxy, by a creative restoration of that once existing
organic continuity and cultural tradition and not by hasty
and scholastic assessments of ready-made "solutions" of
Western thought. In this sense Philaret accomplished in-
comparably more of the actual "Churchification" \^'Verkirch-
Hchung"*] of Russian "school theology" than did Pratasov
and his advisors. The Dogmatics by Makarii Bulgakov, an
eminent historian of the Russian Church and later the Metro-
politan of Moscow, remaineddespite all its meritsa dead
book, a memorial to lifeless scholarship, uninspired by the
true spirit of the Church: once again precisely a Western
book. The return to a truly genuine and living Christianity
was possible only by the historical path, not by the path of
scholasticism. It is possible only by the living, albeit some-
times contradictory, experience of the history of the Church
which contains embryonically the sought-for synthesis, and
not by a hasty "systmatisation" based on alien sources. This
"historical method" was the path of Russian theology at the
end of the previous century. This method (see, for example,
the Dogmatic Theology of Bishop Silvester) was the most
important achievement of the Russian theological heritage.
1
IV
In the history of Western Theology of the previous
centuries the influence of German idealistic philosophy was
one of the most significant phenomena, not only in Evan-
gelical circles but alsosuffice it to mention the Roman
r
Catholic school at Tbingento a very significant extent in
the works of Roman Catholic theology and scholarship,
especially in Germany. This influence of German Idealism
was strong in the Russian theological schools, although here
it was more of a philosophical, than theological, concern.
The influence of philosophical idealism was almost not at
all apparent in the genuine theological literature, genuine
in the strictest sense of the term. This is partially explained
by the strictness of censorship. We know from the memoirs
of contemporaries that many of the Academy professors were
inclined to a philosophical interpretation of the data of
Revelation rather than to a strictly theological interpretation.
The psychological influence of Romanticism and Realism
was, in any case, strong. Schelling and Baader, as well as
Romantic psychologists such as G. H. Schubert (d. I860),
were very popular among the students of the Academies.
Even in the works of Theophan the Recluse, the authoritative
interpreter of patristic asceticism, we find certain traces of
Schubert's History of the Soul [Geschichte der Seele; 1830,
4th edition, 1850]. Schubert's book was used as a textbook
in the Kiev Academy when Theophan was a student. In any
case, the philosophical awakening in Russia began precisely
in the theological schools and all the early disciples of
philosophical idealism came from theological Academies or
Seminaries: Vellanskii from the Kiev Academy, Nadezhdin
from Moscow, Galich from the seminary at Sevsk, and Pavlov
from the Voronezh Seminary. Later, university professors of
philosophy also came from the theological Academies:
Sidonskii and M. I. Vladislavlev in St. Petersburg, P. D.
Iurkevich and M. M. Troitskii in Moscow (both from the
Kiev Academy), Archimandrite Theophan Avsenev, O.
Novitskii, S. S. Gogotskii in Kiev, and I. Mikhnevich in the
Richelieu Lyceum of Odessa. Professors of philosophy at the
Academies were: Th. Golubinskii and V. D. Kudriavtsev \
at the Moscow Academy, V. N. Karpov, the well-known
translator of Plato, and M. I. Karinskii in St. Petersburg.
Thus a specific internal tradition of religio-philsophical
idealism was created in the Academies. It kept alive a
philosophical thirst for knowledge and directed attention to
problems of faith. It was precisely from the theological
schools that the Russian "love for wisdom" began and Russian
theological knowledge was exposed to a speculative testing.
One of the conservative professors of the Theological Acad-
emy outlined at the beginning of this century the task of
philosophical Dogmatics: behind every dogma one must
search spiritually for that question to which the dogma
responds. "This is the analytics of the natural demands of
the spirit in relation to various truths." First, one must
establish the positive witness of the Church from Scripture
and Tradition, "and here a mosaic of texts is never sufficient
but only an organic growth of knowledge." Then dogma
comes alive and discloses itself in its entire speculative depth
as a divine answer to human questions, as a divine Amen and
as a witness of the Church. It appears as a "genuine self-under-
standing" which is spiritually unthinkable to contradict. Dog-
matic theology, when it confronts the questions of the present,
must constantly re-create dogmas afresh so that the dark coals
of traditional formulas are transformed into the illuminating
jewels of true faith.
17
In such a presentation of the speculative
problems of theology the philosophical and historical methods
go hand in hand. The historical method, for its part, leads
back to the speculative confession of the faith of the Holy
Fathers.
The influence of philosophy is especially clear in the
systematic construction of Russian "secular theologians"
the Slavophiles and Khomiakov, but especially Vladimir
Solov'ev and his followers. The close connection between the
religio-philosophical Weltanschauung and quest of Vladimir
Solov'ev with German idealistic philosophy, especially with
Schelling, partly with Baader, Schopenhauer, and Ed. von
Western Influences in Russian Theology ill
Hartmann is completely obvious. Solov'ev's system, however,
was an attempt to re-shape afresh the dogmas of Christian
belief and Tradition in the categories of modern philosophy,
a task which had already concerned Khomiakov. From
Solov'ev this tradition, taken up by his spiritual followers
and successors, passed into the contemporary religio-philo-
sophical tradition. To such an understanding of theological
tasks one should oppose another: the task of theology lies
not so much in translating the Tradition of faith into con-
temporary language, into the terms of the most recent
philosophy, but lies rather in discovering in the ancient
patristic tradition the perennial principles of Christian philos-
ophy; this task lies not in controlling dogma by means of
contemporary philosophy but rather in re-shaping philosophy
on the experience of faith itself so that the experience of
faith would become the source and measure of philosophical
views. The weakest side of Solov'ev and his school was
precisely this misuse of the speculative process which can
enchain, and often even deform, Tradition and the ex-
perience of faith. The influence of German philosophy, in
any case, organically penetrated Russian theological con-
sciousness.
V
From the foregoing brief and fleeting survey of Western
influences in Russian theology the following disquieting and
hopeless conclusion seems inevitable: was not and is not
Russian theology, in its developmentas one critic sharply
statedalways a "wandering theology"? Was it not peculiarly
moveable, changeable, inconsistent and incomprehensible ?
Such is quite often the conclusion of foreignespecially of
Roman Catholictheologians, who usually get the impres-
sion from reading Russian theological works of something
uncertain, something indefinable. Impressions and conclusions
of this type are in fact the results of a very dangerous mis-
understanding, a kind of optical illusion. Something very
tragic, however, stands behind such an interpretationa
disastrous schism, a split in Orthodox consciousness, traceable
in the history of Russian theology as a certain creative con-
fusion, as a lack of clarity about the road to be followed.
Saddest of all was that this peculiar split was between piety
and theology, between theological erudition and spirituality,
between theological schools and Church life.
This new theological scholarship came to Russia from
the West. It remained an alien accretion in Russia much too
long. It continued to use a special language, foreign to the
people, a language which was neither that of common life
nor of prayer. It remained an alien body in the structure of
the Church, developing into artificial and totally estranged
forms. It was and it remained "school scholarship/' As such
it transformed itself into a text for instruction and all too
often ceased seeking the truth and the profession of the
faith. Theological thought gradually digressed from hearing
the rhythm of the Church's heart and thereby lst the "way"
t this heart. It did not understand the necessity of awakening
attention as participation in the wider circles of the Church
community and of the people. It looked at them rather with
distrust, jealousy, and enmity. There were, in fact, reasons
for this. They lay in the prejudice against an imported and
self-sufficient scholarship which was not even rooted in the
reality of religious experience or in life, a prejudice against
a theology which had ceased to express and bear witness to
the faith of the Church. To this extent it can be justly
characterized as a "wandering theology." Herein lies the
entire problem of Russian religious existence: in the depths
and the intimacy of Church experience the Faith is kept
and preserved undistorted. In the quiet acquiescence to God,
in the style of prayer, in its monasticism the Russian soul
preserved the old, strict, patristic style; it lived in a fully
undisturbed and undivided fulness of Sobomosf and Tradi-
tion. In this spirituality and depth of prayer the ancient Faith
still remained *'the apostolic, patristic Faith,"the faith of
ancient, Eastern, and Byzantine Orthodoxy. But "thought"
had separated itself, had torn itself away from these spiritual
depths, returning only too late to the realization of its
unholy deviation. The wanderings of thought, however, could
not and did not destroy the authenticity of faith: Orthodoxy
remained, nevertheless, unchanged. One serious danger exists,
however, in that theological pseudo-morphosis, when natural
language is lost and theology becomes alien and strange.
Most dangerous was the fact that theological problematics
lost their proximity to life and that the Truth of God became
a school exercise limited to specialists and professionals. N. P.
Gillarov-Platonov gives a very characteristic example of such
an alienation of school from life in his extraordinarily
captivating memoirs:
The semi-Protestant interpretation of Tradition was
then quite common in the schools. Even the cate-
chism of Philaret had no section on Tradition. The
Theology of Ternovskii did not discuss it either.
The handwritten text from which I taught, when I
was already forty, was also silent on this subject.
The age of Prokopovich still lingered on . . . This
situation was not just restricted to the subject of
Tradition . . . The doctrine of Justification was also
presented in conformity with Latin books . . . While
Moscow more or less wandered in the footsteps of
Prokopovich, a reaction took place in St. Petersburg,
the result of the theology of A. N. Murav'ev . . . It
is particularly noteworthy that professional theo-
logians remained quite indifferent to the innova-
tions in the obviously important dogma of Tradi-
tion (Tradition as a second and independent source
of Faith). They began to write and teach in the
new manner as if they had always done so . * . The
reader may think this is an unusual lack of faith
on the part of these religious persons. But what
appears at first glance a peculiar indifference was
really no lack of faith. It rather indicated tiiat the
formulae of Western theology had no "living" con-
tent for the Eastern Church. In the West these
questions belong to the essence of various confes-
sions and are burning issues. In the East, however,
these questions were in general not raised at all.
Informative in this regard is the exchange of letters
in the 16th century between Patriarch Jeremiah
of Constantinople and the Tbingen theologians.
The latter asked him for his views on the issues
which constituted the essence of the strife between
Rome and Lutherfor example, the issue of faith
and works. The Patriarch, however, answered
casually and superficially; he could not understand
the full context of these questions precisely because
these questions had arisen from the religious specula-
tions in the Western Church, the latter being in-
volved in these problems because of a peculiarity
of its own historical development.
18
In these observations there is much truth, especially from
a psychological point of view. The danger lay not so much
in the errors as in the separation of theological thought and
its scholarship from the people.
Western influences in Russian theology must be over-
come. This concerns, first of all, the inorganic "Western
style" This process actually began long ago in the Russian
schoolsprecisely at the time of Philaret and in connection
with the revival of asceticism in Russian monasteries. It is
sufficient to recall the school of Staretz Paisii Velichkovskii
and especially the hermitage of Optino. Orthodox theology
can ultimately restore the independence from Western
influences only through a spiritual return to patristic sources
and foundations.--To return to the Fathers does not mean
to retreat from the present or from history; it is not a
retreat from modernity or from the field of battle. It means
much more-it is not only a preservation and protection of
patristic experience but also the very discovery of this ex-
perience and the bringing of this experience into life. On
the other hand, independence from the West must not
degenerate into an alienation which becomes simply opposed
to the West. For a complete break with the West does not
give a true and authentic liberation. Presently Orthodoxy
can and must no longer circumvent or hush up the issue.
This, however, means that Orthodoxy must encounter the
West creatively and spiritually. The dependence and imita-
tion of the past cannot be considered an encounter. An
encounter only really occurs in the freedom and equality
of love. It is not sufficient merely to repeat Western answers,
to play one Western answer off against another. But rather
we must precisely recognize, experience, and penetrate these
Western questions, we must familiarize ourselves with the
entire dramatic problematic of Western religious thought.
VI
Orthodox Theology's path of overcoming the Western
"scandal" does not lie in rejecting or even overthrowing
Western results. The path, rather, lies in overcoming and
surmounting them in a new creative activity. Only a creative
return to the unique and ancient depths will serve Orthodox
thought as the authentic "antidote" against the open and
hiddenor even yet unknownaspects of "Western poison-
ing." Orthodox Theology is summoned to answer Western
questions from the depths of the unbroken Orthodox ex-
perience and to confront the movements of Western thought
with the unchanged truth of patristic Orthodoxy.
Translated from the German by
THOMAS BIRD and RICHARD HAUGH
The Ways of Russian Theology
HISTORY of Russian culture is marked throughout
J. with crises, intermittent occurrences, fits of disillusion-
ment or enthusiasms, betrayals or ruptures. It shuns a con-
tinuous and integral coherence. Its fabric is entangled,
rumpled, frayed. "Most characteristic of Russian history are
its scissions and breaks of continuity" (Nicolas Berdyaev). It
displays foreign influences rather than its own/creativity.
There are many more contradictions and incompatibilities
in the soul of the Russian people than the Slavophiles or
the Populists [narodnik] were ready to admit. The tradi-
tional mores keep strange company with a revolutionary
spirit. P. Kireevski has rightly observed that the very being
of Russia evolved on several levels. This is also true of the
intimate being, the inner, subtle structure of the popular
soul. The latter has ever been living simultaneously in several
eras or different ages. In it, psychic forms which cannot be
measured, hailing from diverse epochs, combine and inter-
Translated from "Les Voies de la Theologie Russe," in Dieu Vivant, 13
(Paris, 1949), 39-62. Translated from the French by Georges A. Barrois.
Printed by permission of the author.
183
penetrate. This does not mean that they constitute a synthesis.
In fact, a synthesis did not succeed. This complexity of the
popular soul is caused by the weakness of an excessive
impressionability and an exaggerated sensitiveness. The Rus-
sian soul has a dangerous tendency, a treacherous inclination
toward those transformations or those cultural metempsy-
choses of which Dostoevski spoke in his discourse on Pushkin.
Or in the words of Alexander Blok:
We perceive every thing,
The sharp mind of France,
And the somber genius of the Germans
[The Scythians]
This gift of being a sonorous and universal echo is, all
in all, fatal and ambiguous, since sensitiveness and lively
reactions make the concentration of the spirit very difficult.
By roaming freely through ages and cultures, man runs the
risk of not finding himself. The soul is unsettled and becomes
lost under wave after wave of impressions and historical
experiences. The soul seems to have lost the capacity for
returning into itself, attracted and distracted as it is by too
many things, which detain it elsewhere. Thus it acquires
nomadic habits, it gets used to living in ruins or in encamp-
ments. The Russian soul is oblivious of its ancestry. It is
customary to quote its propensity for dreaming, its feminine
suppleness. Now this is not false. But the trouble does not
derive from the fact that the fundamental element, plastic
and highly fusible, of the Russian people, was not reinforced
nor armored with "logoi," that it did not crystallize into
cultural action. There is no way of measuring or exhaustively
explaining the Russian temptation merely by naturalistically
contrasting "nature" with "culture." This temptation arises
from within the culture itself. Generally speaking, the
"popular soul" is less a biological quantity than a historical,
created value. It is made and it grows through history. The
The, Ways of Russian Theology
185
Russian "element" is by no means an "innate reaction to
its being," the natural, inborn "original chaos," which does
not bear any fruit yet, which the light of the spirit has not
yet brightened and enlightened. It is rather the new secondary
chaos, that of sin and disintegration, of the fall, the revolt,
the hardening of a darkened and blinded soul. The Russian
soul is not stricken by original sin only, it is not poisoned
only by an inherent Dionysiac strain. More than that, it
bears the burden of its historic sins, whether conscious or
unconscious: "A dismal swamp of shameful thoughts wells
up within . . ." The true cause of this evil lies not in the
fluidity of t he primordial element of the people, but rather
in the infidelity and the fickleness of its love. Only love is
the true fora for synthesis and unity, and the Russian soul
has not been steady and devoted in this ultimate love. Too
often was it swayed through mystical unstableness. Russians
have become far too much used to suffer at fatal crossroads
or at the parting of ways, "not daring to carry the scepter
of the Beast nor the light burden of Christ. . ." The Russian
soul feels even passionately drawn toward such crossings.
It does not have the steadfastness necessary for choice, nor the
willpower for taking responsibilities. It appears, in some
undefinable way, too "artistic," too loose-jointed. It expands,
it extends, it languishes, lets itself be overcome as ensnared
by a charm. But being under a spell is net synonymous with
being in love, not any more than amorous friendship or
infatuation are synonymous with love. Only sacrificial love,
voluntary love, makes one strong, not the fits of passion,
l or the mediumnistic attraction of a secret affinity. Now
the Russian soul lacked precisely that spirit of sacrifice and
self-denial in the presence of Truth, of the ultimate humility
in loving. It divides itself and meanders through its attach-
ments. Logical conscience, being sincerity and responsibility
in the act of knowing, wakes up late in the Russian soul.
Two temptations keep it spellbound; on the one hand,
the temptation of the holy life: it is the temptation of Old
Russia, of the ' Ol d Believers," the optimism of a Christian
order established on the historic soil, followed, as if it were
by a shadow, with the apocalyptic negation in the schism
\raskol\ On the other hand, the temptation of pietistic
consolation, which is the temptation of the new "intel-
ligentsia," whether the occidentalist or the populist. It is also
a temptation sui generis of the spiritual life, the charm of a
spiritual Gemtlichkeit. History is not assumed in a creative
>, as superior high feat, as pilgrimage, as impersonal
forces, even unconscious and elemental, on * Organic pro-
cesses," on the ' 'power of the earth," as though history would
evolve, as if it would just happen, rather than being self-
creative. "Historicism" is no defense against "pietism," for
it remains a point of view of the intellect. The category of
responsibility is missing, in spite of historical sensitiveness,
receptivity, and keenness of observation. This irresponsibility
of the national spirit is most conspicuous in the evolution of
Russian thought. And here is the essence of our cultural
tragedy. It is a Christian, not an antique, tragedy; the tragedy
of voluntary sin, of a freedom which ceases to be clear-sighted;
it is not the tragedy of a blind fate, nor of the primordial
darkness; it is the tragedy of divided love, of mystical
infidelity, that of spiritual servitude and of demoniac posses-
sion. Therefore it reaches its dnouement in a paroxysm of
red madness, of God's denial, of war against God, of fall.
And it is impossible to tear oneself loose from this whirl
of passion except by penitence, vigil, concentration, spiritu-
ality, and the return of the soul. The way out is not found
in culture, in society, but in asceticism, beyond the "internal
desert" of the spirit which returns.
One perceives a certain embarrassment of the creative
187
spirit in the history of Russian theology. The main neuralgic
point is the strange divorce between theology and piety,
between erudition and meditative prayer, between the school
and Church life; a separation and a schism between the
"intelligentsia" and the "people," in the very bosom of the
Church. Let it suffice to recall at this point that this
estrangement has been harmful to both parties. The Athonite
disturbances (1912-1913), caused by controversies about the
Divine Name and the "Prayer of Jesus," are a typical
illustration.
Theological scholarship was borrowed from the West. Too
long did it remain foreign with us. It even persisted in
using a particular language (which was neither that of
everyday life, nor of prayer). Theology remained an enclave
withia the organism of the Church. As it developed in an
artificial milieu and in isolation, it became and remained a
school discipline, more and more a matter that is taught,
less and less a quest for truth or a profession of faith.
Theological thought gradually lost its faculty to apply itself
to the live pulsations of the Church. It could not any more
find the way to its heart. It attracted neither the attention
nor the sympathy of large social and popular circles of the
Church. Theology, in the best circumstances, seemed useless.
But often incomprehension worsened into umbrageous mis-
trust, even ill-will. Consequently numerous believers acquired
the unfortunate habit of doing without theology altogether,
and replaced it, some with canons, some others with prayers,
with ancient traditions, with ritual, with the lyricism of the
soul. This gave rise to an obscure sort of abstinence, to a
refusal of knowledge, we might say to theological aphasia,
to uncalled for ' 'a-dogmatism" or even to agnosticism under
pretence of piety; in a word, to a renewal of the heresy of
the "antisophoi," "gnosimachoi."
The sin consisted not only in the fact that spiritual riches
remained buried and deliberately unused; this "gnosimachia,"
threatened even the soundness of the spirit. In the practice
of devotion, private as well as liturgical, there always lurks
the danger of "psychological subjectivism/* the temptation
to receive or to offer the psychic for the spiritual. It can
take the appearance of ritual or canonical formalism, or else
of an enticing sensibility. It is nonetheless a temptation. The
theological spirit alonehumble, straightforward, vigilant,
experiencemay preserve us from such temptations. Neither
the traditional rites nor the canons are a sufficient safeguard.
The soul lets itself be carried away by the lure and the
appeal of its own plight. In such a psychological climate,
the mistrust with regard to theology became doubly harmful.
Research lacked ground. Without a theological criterion, the
Russian soul was so unstable, so exposed to temptations ! . . .
Since Peter I, "piety" had been, so to speak, driven back
toward the lower strata of the society. The break between
the "intelligentsia" and the "people" had occurred precisely
at the level of faith ! The higher strata were soon con-
taminated with unbelief and rationalistic libertarianism. Faith
had been preserved in the lower classes most of the time in a
superstitious and "popular" context. Orthodoxy was reduced
to being the confession of "simple folks," of the merchants,
of the peasants. Many began to think that they could not
possibly rally to the Church unless they would make them-
selves simple, unless they would blend with the people, dig
as deep as the national, historical foundations, and return to
the land. And they confused too often rallying to the Church
with going back to the people. Shortsighted zealots, such as
repentant intellectuals, the rudes arid the snobs, concurred in
spreading dangerous prejudices. The Slavophiles carried their
share of responsibility. According to them, the life of the
people itself was a kind of natural catholicity. The com-
mune, the "tnir" was an embryo of the Church. Even today
there are too many who regard a certain "populism" as the
necessary mode of true Orthodoxy. The foi du charbonnier
y
the faith of the old nanny, or of the illiterate churchgoer,
was considered as the model and the most authentic type.
It seemed proper and safer to enquire concerning the essence
of Orthodoxy from the "people" rather than from the
"Fathers." Theology, therefore, was not included in the
structure of "Russian Orthodoxy." In the name of "simple
piety," it is generally acceptable, even today, to use a made
up language, falsely popular, bearing the stamp of com-
punction and piety. This is the most dangerous form of
obscurantism and often the appanage of repentant intel-
lectuals. In such a context, orthodoxy often turns into some
sort of moralizing folklore. "What would Tsar Alexis
Mikhailovich have said, if he had been told that true
orthodoxy, outside of monastic enclosures, was preserved only
among peasants, that it had been dispelled from among the
boyars, the nobles, the prominent merchants of the capital,
the officials, and a great many representatives of the small
bourgeoisie? In its time, the Church was founded upon the
better people of the land, not upon the obscure masses of
the countryside, which retains to this day so many uncertain
beliefs, pagan survivals, and among which the schism had
soon grown deep roots." (S. Trubetskoy)
The entire falsity of religious ''populism" is clearly
shown by the fact that contrition can never be an "organic"
process, although it restores or initiates the spiritual integrity
of the soul. For repentance is always a crisis, that is to say,
a judgment. The only means for truly rallying to the Church
is a severe asceticism, and not a return to the people, to the i|
rudiments, and to the simple unity of the origins. Not the j
folklore, the popular traditions of daily life, but fasting and j
penitence. There is no reverting to native primitivism, but !
one has to enter into history, by the assimilation of ecumenical j
and catholic traditions. "Christianity in Russia, like every- |
where else, has ceased to be a popular religion in essence. (
The people, the simple folk, for the most part, ebb toward j,
half-intellectualism, materialism, socialism; they experience a ,[
first-taste infatuation for Marxism, Darwinism, etc. On the \
contrary, the intellectuals, from the upper, cultured strata of
society return to Christian faith. The old-style Orthodoxy,
folklore and peasantish, has come to an end; it cannot be
brought back to life. We make infinitely higher demands on
Christianity, be it ever so mediocre. The Christianity of the
humble peasant woman is today a myth; she has become
nihilistic and atheist. The believer of today is the philosopher,
the man of culture" (Nicolas Berdiaev).
There is in the Russian spirit a fatal schizothymia. On
the one hand, a craving for knowledge, an intellectual rest-
lessness, an Aristotelian spirit of inquiry. On the other hand
a dry and cold passion for simplification. Two wills oppose
each other; more exactly, the will is split asunder in twain.
We hear often about Russian obscurantism. Now, rare are
those who perceive its truly tragic depth. The movement is
extremely complex; I say "movement," for it should not be
confused with numbness or drowsiness of the rational will;
we have to deal with a most active attitude, a positive stand,
by no means a passivity. Most diverse elements conur in
tying a desperate knot. In the last analysis, what is called
"obscurantism" is a mistrust with regard to culture. The
stubborn suspicion of many toward theological science is
only a particular case of whatever poisons the Russian genius.
Historically, this "obscurantism" was born as a restlessness
and vigilance in the presence of a borrowed science, allegedly
self-sufficient, yet without roots in the reality of religious
experience and life. It was above all a protest and a defense
against a lifeless erudition. Such a protest was liable to turn
easily into the flatest utilitarianism, as it often happened,
and still happens. However, erudition or intellectualism are
not yet real knowledge, and the distrust was not without
motives or without grounds. The ultimate reason for distrust
was that theology had ceased to express, and to witness to,
the faith of the Church. And not without cause did one
hold theology as being mistaken. In this lies the essential
paradox of our religious history. In the depths and recesses
191
of ecclesiastical experience, faith remained intact. Through its
contemplation, prayer, and practice of devotion, the Russian
soul keeps the style, ancient and rigorous, of the Fathers,
it lives in a total communion. But thought has detached
itself from it; too often did the soul retreat from the depths
and find itself, quite late, aware of this fatal uprooting.
"Obscurantism" was the dialectical warning of this loss of
ground. Creative theological thought alone will be able to
overcome these adverse circumstances, when theology shall
return to the depths of the Church and lighten them from
within, when reason shall find its center in the heart, and
when the heart shall mature through rational meditation.
Only then shall there be an entrance into the understanding
of truth.
I l l
Our crisis of breaking away from Byzantinism in the 16th
century was an abandonment of Patristic tradition as well.
There was no rupture within spiritual experience; on the
contrary Russian piety, if we look back, appears even archaic.
But theology had lost the Patristic style and methods. The
works of the Fathers became archives, lifeless documents.
It is not enough to be acquainted with the texts and to know
how to draw from them quotes and arguments. One must
possess the theology of the Fathers from within. Intuition is
perhaps more important for this than erudition, for intuition
alone revives their writings and makes them a witness. It is
only from within that we can perceive and distinguish what
(actually) is a catholic testimony from what would be
merely theological opinion, hypothesis, interpretation, or
theory. "The Fathers are," Newman observed keenly, "our
teachers, but not our confessors or casuists; they are the
prophets of great things, not the spiritual directors of indi-
viduals" (Essays, 11, 371). Reviving the Patristic style is
the very premise of theological renaissance. This does not
mean a restoration, a return t the past, nor a repetition.
''Returning to the Fathers" means, for all intents, to advance,
not to go backwards. What we need is to be faithful to the
spirit, not to the letter of the Fathers, to let ourselves be
kindled at the flame of their fiery inspiration, not to gather
specimens for a herbarium.
There are two types of consciousness; individual and
catholic. "Catholic consciousness" is not collective conscious-
ness, not a kind of "consciousness in general." The ego does
not disappear, nor is it dissolved in the "we." On the con-
trary, personal consciousness reaches its completion and its
accomplishment in the catholic transfiguration, liberates itself
from its rclusion and alienation, and inhales the integrality
of the other individuals. According to a suggestive formula
of Prince S. Trubetskoy, "it holds in itself the commu-
nion with all." This is why it acquires the capacity and
the strength to assimilate and to express the consciousness
and the life of the all. Only in the integral communion of
the Church is this "catholic transfiguration" of consciousness
truly possible. Those who, by reason of their humility in the
prsence of the Truth, have received the gift to express this
catholic consciousness of the Church, we call them Fathers
and Doctors, since what they make us hear is not only their
thought or their personal conviction, but moreover the very
witness of the Church, for they speak from the depth of its
catholic fullness. Their theology evolves on the plane of
catholicity, of universal communion. And this is the first
thing we must learn. Through asceticism and concentration,
the theologian must learn to find his bearings in the Church:
Cor nostrum sit semper in Ecclesia: We must mature and rise
up to the catholic level, go beyond our narrow subjectivism
and out of our particular retreat. In other words, we must
be engrafted in the Church, in order to grow in it and live
in that mysterious tradition, integral and trans-temporal,
which embraces the sum of all revelations and visions. There,
and there only, is the guaranty of creative work, and not
in the seductive affirmation of a prophetic freedom. We need
less to worry about freedom than about Truth. Only truth
makes free. To believe that "a thought without roots, a
schismatic truth, is always freer" would be a dangerous
illusion.
Freedom is neither in being rooted in the natural soil,
nor in being uprooted; it is found in Truth and in the
life of Truth, in the illumination of the Spirit. The Church
alone possesses the strength and power of the true, catholic
synthesis. In this consists its pot estas ma gist erii, the gift and
unction of infallibility.
The consciousness of knowing must expand, embrace the
fullness of the past, and, at the same time, the continuity
of growth into the future. Theological consciousness must
become historical. Only on account of its historicity can it
possibly be catholic. Indifference for history always leads
to a sectarian dryness, to a doctrinaire attitude. Historical
sensitiveness is indispensable to the theologian, it is the
necessary condition for being in the Church. Whoever is
insensitive to history would hardly be a good Christian. Not
by mere chance did the decline of ecclesial awareness during
the Reformation coincide with a mystical blind spot with
regard to history. It is true that the Protestants, in their
polemic with Rome on papal innovations, were in fact the
creators of "Church history'* as a particular discipline, and
they contributed more than any others to this ecclesiastical
science. Nevertheless the historical phenomenon as such had,
in their eyes, lost its religious value and virtue; what they
saw in history was merely the genesis of a decadence (it was
their purpose to prove this), the object of their research
being rather "primitive" Christianity, to wit, something which
antecedes the history of the Church. Such is the very point
of "modernism." It implies a kind of unbelief toward history;
it hails back to positivism and humanism; one begins by
thinking that Christian truth cannot be established from
history as a starting point, and that it can be affirmed only
by "faith." History knows only Jesus of Nazareth; faith alone
confesses in Him the Christ. This historical scepticism is
overcome in the Church through the catholicity of its ex-
perience, far beneath the surface, on which a humanist's
glance strays and skids. The Church recognizes and proclaims
dogmatic events as facts of history. Theandry is such a fact,
and not merely a postulate of the faith. In the Church,
history must be for the theologian a perspective that is real.
To do the task of a theologian in the Church is to work in
the element of history. For "ecclesiality" is tradition. The
theologian must discover history as a theanthropic process,
a pass-over from time to the eternity of grace, the becoming
and the building of the Body of Christ. Only in history is
it possible to know this growth of the Mystical Body, to be
convinced of the mystical reality of the Church, and to rid
oneself from the temptation which consists in dehydrating
Christianity in order to reduce it to an abstract Doctrine
or a system of morals. Christianity is whole in history, it
concerns history. It is not a revelation in history, but rather
an appeal to history, to historical action and creation. Every-
thing in the Church is dynamic, everything is in action and
in motion since Pentecost until the Great Day. Now such a
movement is not a movement away from the past. On the
contrary, it is much more to be regarded as its continuous
bearing of fruit. Tradition lives and quickens within creation.
Accomplishment is the fundamental category of history.
Theological endeavor is justified only within the perspective
of history, in as much as it is a creative ecclesiastical datum.
The historical sensitiveness of Russian thought, the testing
of its meditations and of its experiences, are the best token
of its expected theological renewal. To be sure, the road of
historical reminiscence was travelled too fast, and only on
the plane of contemplation. It would not be correct to say
that Russian theology, in its creative development, has per-
ceived and assimilated completely or deeply enough the
Fathers and Byzantium. This, it must still do. It must pass
through the austere schooling of Christian Hellenism. Hel-
lenism, so to speak, assumed a perpetual character in the
Church; it has incorporated itself in the very fabric of the
Church as the eternal category of Christian existence. Of
course what is meant here is not that ethnical Hellenism
of modern Hellas or of the Levant, nor Greek phyletism,
which j ^ obsolete and without justification. We are dealing
with Christian antiquity, with the Hellenism of dogma, of
the liturgy, of the icon. In the liturgy, the Hellenic style of
the "piety of the mysteries" enter into the rhythm of the
liturgical mystagogy without passing through some sort of
mystical "re-hellenization." Could anyone who is in the
Church be foolish enough to deliberately "de-hellenize" the
services and transpose them into a more "modern" style?
Moreover, Hellenism is something more than a passing
stagein the Church. Whenever a theologian begins to think
that the "Greek categories" are outmoded, this simply means
that he has stepped out of the rhythm of communion. The-
ology cannot possibly be catholic except within Hellenism.
Now, Hellenism is ambiguous. An anti-Christian element was
predominant in the ancient mind. Till now, there are many
who take refuge themselves in Hellenism for the express
purpose to rise and fight against Christianity (simply think
of Nietzsche!) But Hellenism was integrated into the Church;
such is the historic meaning of Patristic theology. This
"integration of Hellenism" involved a merciless rupture, the
criterion of which had been the preaching the Gospel, the
historical manifestation of the Incarnate Word. Christian
Hellenism, transfigured as it was, is wholly historical. Patristic
theology is always a "theology of facts," it confronts us with
events, the events of sacred history. All the errors and tempta-
tions of a Hellenization forwarded indiscretelythey hap-
pened repeatedly in the course of historycannot possibly
weaken the significance of this fundamental fact: the "good
news" and Christian theology, once and for all, were ex-
pressed from the start in Hellenistic categories. Patristic and
catholicity, historicity and Hellenism are the joint aspects of
a unique and indivisible datum.
This plea for Hellenism will stir up foreseeable objections.
These were formulated more than oflce, and from several
sides. The attempt of A. Ritschl and his school is well known.
It aimed at emptying Christian doctrine of all its historical
elements, in order to return to a purely "Biblical" founda-
tion. Whenever this process is carried to its logical conclusion,
the result is that the whole of Christianity disintegrates into
humanitarian morals, in effect a travesty; such a return to the
Bible is an illusion. Equally insufficient would be any inter-
pretation of Revelation based exclusively on " Semitic"
categories, namely the ' Taw" and the "Prophets."
This approach has seduced many scholars; it is particularly
evident in "dialectical theology," in K. Barth, E. Brunner,
and others. The New Testament is interpreted in the frame-
work of the Old, at the level of Prophecy, but Prophecy
without a, consummation, as if the prophecies had not been
fulfilled. History is underrated, and the emphasis is placed
on the Last Judgment, with the effect of narrowing the full
span of Revealed Truth. But Biblical prophecy finds pre-
cisely its true realization in Christian Hellenism: Vetus testa-
mentum in Novo patet. The New Testament and the Church
of the New Testament embrace Jew and Greek in the unity
of a new life. The categories of sacred Hebraism have lost
their independent meaning. Every attempt at disengaging
them or extracting them from the Christian synthesis leads
to a relapse into Judaism. The truth of "Hebraism" is in-
cluded in the Hellenic synthesis. Hellenism was integrated
into the Church precisely through the Biblical engrafting.
It is impossible, even from a historical point of view, to justify
the opposition between "Semitism" and "Hellenism." When
German idealism conquered the hearts, some scholars devised
to transpose all the dogmatics and even the dogmas from
the allegedly obsolete language of Hellenism into the idioms,
more intelligible and actual, of the new idealism, in the
manner of Hegel, Schelling, Baader, and their like (Khomi-
akov himself had thought to do that). Similar attempts went
on to our days. Could the man of Faustian culture be
satisfied with the static code of an ancient Hellenism? All
these antiquated words, have they not lost their flavor? The
soul itself, was it not so altered, as to lose its faculty of
being impressed by all those terms "hopelessly and fatally
obsolete ?" But why, shall we ask straightway? Would it
not be that our contemporaries fail to remember their lineage,
and are therefore unable to understand, within themselves,
their own past which they have rejected? After all, "modern
philosophy and psychology" must first be submitted to a
test and a justification, the criterion of which is rooted in
the depths of ecclesiastical experience. And there is no com-
mon measure between the latter and the methods of Hegel
or Kant. Or are we supposed to evaluate the fullness of the
Church according to a Kantian standard, or to re-measure
it with the yardstick of Lotze or Bergson, even perhaps of
Schelling? The very idea is somewhat tragi-comic.
No, what is wanted, is not to translate the old dogmatic
formulas into a modern language, but, on the contrary, to
return creatively to the "ancient" experience, to re-live it in
the depth of our being, and to incorporate our thought in
the continuous fabric of ecclesial fullness. All those tentative
transpositions or translations have never been anything else but
betrayals, that is to say, new interpretations in terms thor-
oughly inappropriate. Their terms always suffered from an
incurable particularism. They satisfied less the needs of
contemporaries than the fads of the day. Turning away from
Christian Hellenism is by no means moving ahead, but back-
wards, toward the dead ends and the perplexities of the other
Hellenism, the one that had not been transfigured, and from
which there was no escape but through Patristic integration.
German idealism itself was nothing else but a backsliding
into pre-Christian idealism. Whoever is unwilling to abide
by the Fathers, who fears to be left trailing after '''Patristic
scholasticism/' who strives after progress and presses onward
on the secular plane, in vain, is fatally thrown back by the
very logic of thirds and finds himself again in the company
of Plato and Aristotle, Plotinus and Philo, that is to say,
before Christ. His journey is a futile, outmoded excursion
from Jerusalem to Athens.
Other objections against the "plea for Hellenism" come
from the opposite side, not from Western philosophy, but
form the spirit of the Russian people itself. Would it not
be proper to transcribe orthodoxy in the Slavic key, in con-
formity with the style of this "Slavic soul" recently gained
for Christ? A few Slavophiles (for example Orest-Miller),
and after them some Populists, conceived of such endeavors.
Whatever was Greek was suspected of intellectualism and
consequently pronounced superfluous and alien to the exi-
gencies of the Russian heart. "Not by chance did our people
assimilate Christianity by starting, not from the Gospel, but
from the Prologue; was catechized, not by predication., but
by the liturgy, not by theology, but by worship, adoration and
reverence for the sacred things." Tareiev has recently ques-
tioned Greek "tradition" or influence more frankly than
anyone else. Quite logically, he extends to Patristic tradition
his rejection of all kinds of Hellenism. "Patristic doctrine is
from end to end a gnosticism," he believed. It is proper
therefore that theology should proceed along its own track
in order to obviate "Byzantine gnosticism." It is necessary to
create a "philosophy of the heart." If such a philosophy
does not replace dogmatic theology, which is a typical product
of Greek intellectualism, it might at least disguise it. Tareiev
declaimed with pathos against Greek oppression, against
the Byzantine yoke: "Greek gnosticism had fettered religious
thought, checked our theological creativity; it hindered the
growth of our philosophy of the heart, it caused its root to
dry up, it burned its shoots." In fact Tareiev is simply in-
serting surreptitiously an illusory foundation beneath that
sweet and widespread kind of obscurantism which appears
whenever one seeks in the ardor of piety as in the "philosophy
of the heart" a refuge from all the tribulations of the spirit.
We cannot help wondering how a man can so naively with-
draw himself from history and from the Christian heritage,
with the candor and indifference of those who have for-
gotten their origins. Russian theology did not suffer from
Greek oppression. It suffered, on the contrary, for its im-
prudence and lightheartedness in breaking up the continuity
of the Hellenic and Byzantine traditions. The fact of ex-
cluding itself from this succession has cast a lasting spell on
the Russian soul and made it barren, for creation is impossible
without living traditions. Renouncing the Greek patrimony
is actually tantamount to ecclesiastical suicide.
IV
In the order of imitation, our theology went through
the principal stages of religious thought in modern Europe,
namely: the theology of the Council of Trent, the period of
the Baroque, Protestant scholasticism and Protestant ortho-
doxy, pietism and freemasonry, German idealism and roman-
ticism, the social-christian fermentation in the wake of the
French revolution, the decomposition of the Hegelian school,
the new critical and historical science, Tbingen and Ritschl,
neo-romanticism and symbolism; all these came and left
their imprint on the Russian cultural experience. Dependence
and imitation, however, did not yet mean an intimate meeting.
The latter is achieved only in the freedom and equality of
love. It is not sufficient to repeat the ready-made answers
of the West; we must rather analyze them and personally
experience them, penetrate and appropriate to ourselves all
the problematics and the drama of Western religious thought,
follow and interpret the most difficult and winding course
travelled since the Schism. One cannot possibly enter into a
life as it is being created, except through the channel of its
problematics, and one must feel and perceive it precisely in
its problematic aspect as a quest and as an unrelenting search.
Orthodox theology shall not be able to establish its inde-
pendence from western influences unless it reverts to the
Patristic sources and foundations. This does not mean for-
saking our time, withdrawing from history, deserting the
battlefield. We must not only retain the experience of the
Fathers, but moreover develop it while discovering it, and
use it in order to create a living work. Likewise, independence
with regard to the heterodox West must not degenerate into
alienation. Breaking away from the West does not bring
about any true liberation. Orthodox thought has to feel the
Western difficulties or temptations and bear with them;
it may not usurp the right to bypass or brazenly to ignore
them. We must, through creative thinking, resume and
transmute all this experience of the West, its pangs and its
doubts; we must take upon ourselves, as Dostoevsky used
to say, "the European anguish," accumulated through cen-
turies of creative history. It is only through such sympathy,
such active compassion, that the divided Christian world may
possibly find the way to union, welcome the separated
brethren and witness their return to unity. We must not
merely refute and reject Western pronouncements and errors,
but rather overcome them through a new creative activity.
This will constitute for Orthodox thought the best possible
antidote against the hidden or unknown poisons which affect
it. Orthodoxy is called upon to answer the questions of the
heterodox from the utmost depth of its continuous catholic
experience, and to offer to Western heterodoxy less a refuta-
tion than a testimony, even the truth of Orthodoxy.
There has been much concern among us Russians con-
cerning the meaning of the Western evolution. Several found
Europe truly a "second fatherland." Could one nevertheless
affirm that we really knew the West? There was much more
dialectical arbitrariness than correct vision in the current
schemes which were applied to the Western process. The
picture of an imaginary Europe, as we wished to see it, hid
too of ten the real Europe. The soul of the West manifested
itself principally through the arts, chiefly since the end of
the nineteenth century, following the renewal of esthetics.
The heart had been moved, and sensibility had increased. But
"Einfhlung" never leads to the core of things, it even pre-
cludes feeling all the acuity of religious distress and anxiety.
The attitude of "esthetism," generally speaking, does not
favor much problem raising; it satisfies itself too easily with
an inactive contemplation. More and earlier than any others,
the Slavophiles, since Gogol and Dostoevsky, perceived the
Christian strain and restlessness of the West. Soloviev was
less familiar with the West, less aware of its inconsistencies
and contradictions, obsessed as he was with "Christian
politics." In fact, he knew very little of the West, besides
ultramontanism and German idealism (one should add per-
haps Fourier, Swedenborg, the spiritualists and, among the
ancient masters, Dante). But Soloviev believed overmuch in
the steadiness of the West. He was unaware f the romantic
thirst and of the anguish from which Christian souls suffered;
this he realized only toward the end of his life. The cate-
gories of the "old" Slavophiles were also very narrow. Yet
they had some sort of intimate acquaintance with the most
secret themes of the West. Moreover still, they were conscious
of the kinship and responsibility of the Christians, they had
an instinct of brotherly compassion, and an awareness or a
premonition of the Orthodox calling in Europe. Soloviev dealt
with the nation's calling, the theocratic mission of the Rus-
sian Empire, rather than with the mission of Orthodoxy. The
"old" Slavophiles disengaged the Russian problems from the
European exigencies, from the unsolved or insoluble questions
raised by the other half of the one Christian world. The
feeling of Christian responsibility did constitute the high
truth and great moral strength of the early Slavophiles.
Orthodoxy is called to witnessing. Today more than ever,
the Christian West stands before open prospects, as a living
question addressed also to the Orthodox world. In this lies
the entire significance of the so-called ecumenical movement.
Orthodox theology is called upon to demonstrate that the
ecumenical problem cannot possibly be solved unless the
Church reaches its fulfilment in the fullness of the catholic
tradition, intact and immaculate, yet renewed and always
growing. Again, it is impossible to "return" save through
a crisis, for the way to Christian restoration is critical, not
trente. The old ' 'polemic" theology has for a long time lost
all internal relation to reality. It was nothing more than a
school discipline, edified by means of similar western "manu-
als." New theology, in order to refute errors, must be in-
formed by a historiosophic exegesis of the religious tragedy
of the West. However, such an exegesis must be tested; we
must make it our own, and show that it can undergo catharsis
in the fullness of ecclesial experience and of Patristic tradi-
tion. In the new Orthodox synthesis, the centuries old ex-
perience of the West must be taken into consideration and
studied with more attention and sympathy than our theo-
logians ever did thus far. This does not mean that we should
borrow nor adopt Roman doctrines, and indulge in romanizing
mimesis. What I try to say is that Orthodox thought shall,
at any rate, find a better source of creative inspiration in
the great systems of higher scholasticism, in the experience of
the western mystics and in the theology of modern Catholi-
cism, than in German idealism, in the Protestant critique of
the past centuries or of the present, or even in contemporary
"dialectical theology." The rebirth of the Orthodox world
is the necessary condition for the solution of the "ecumenical
problem."
The "encounter" with the West has also another aspect.
During the Middle Ages, the West had given birth to a
theological tradition characterized by an extreme complexity
and intensity, science, culture, research, action, and con-
troversies. Such a tradition continued, to some extent, even
203
in the epoch of the quarrels and most violent antagonisms of
the Reformation. The solidarity in knowledge was not com-
pletely lost in the later free-thinking and libertarian age. In
a sense, western theology remained one up to our day, being
gathered through a feeling of mutual responsibility in the
presence of similar weaknesses and errors. Western tradition
presided to the birth of Russian theology with regard to its
method and contents. We should therefore participate in this
same tradition, with freedom, with responsibility, with con-
science, openly, and we should by no means abandon it.
The Orthodox theologian must not and dares not disengage
himself from the universal tide of religious research. It
happens that, after the fall of Byzantium, the West alone
continued in the theological endeavor. The latter constitutes
essentially an ecumenical, catholic problem, but the solution
of this problem was sought only in the schism. Here is the
fundamental paradox of the history of Christian culture. The
West works, while the East keeps silent, or else, and this
is worse; the East repeats bits of sentences spoken by the
West, but without passing them through the sieve of criticism.
The Orthodox theologian is still depending too much on
Western support for his own work. Orthodox theology
borrows its sources from the West; it reads the Fathers and the
acts of the Councils in Western editions, often merely for
the sake of example, and it learns the methods and the
technique of utilization of sources at the school of the West.
We know the past of our Church above all thanks to the
efforts of many generations of Western scholars, as far as
both the facts and their interpretation are concerned. The
fact that the conscience of the West is constantly attentive to
the ecclesial reality of history, that it assumes a responsible
and heedful attitude toward it, that it never desists from
reflecting and meditating on the Christian sources, this fact
already is important. Western thought continues to live in that
past, thereby compensating, so to speak, the weaknesses of its
mystical memory with the liveliness of its recollections. To
the western world, the orthodox theologian himself must
bring its witness, the witness of the intimate memory of the
Church, in order to have it coincide with the results of
historical research. It is only that intimate memory of the
Church which vitalizes fully the silent witness of the texts.
Prophetizing is not the historian's task. Yet the historian
must perceive the rhythm and the meaning of events. And
eventually events do prophetize. In such cases, the historian
must be aware of his own mission in the presence of their
entanglements. Who could possibly doubt this? A new aeon
has recently begun in the history of the Christian world. It
can be labelled as apocalyptical. I do not mean that our task
is to decipher with temerity unknown or forbidden terms. But
the apocalyptic theme appears far too evident in the entire
evolution of actual events. For the first time in history, so it
seems, the revolt against God and without God is unleashed
with unheard of violence. All Russia is aflame with this anti-
God fire and exposed to this fatal precipitation. Generation
after generation is dragged into this deadly temptation. There
is nothing left neutral in the world, no more dealing with
ordinary, homely things; everything now is denied, debated,
split asunder, and must be wrestled out of the hand of Anti-
christ, since his claim is universal; he aims at leaving his
imprint on all things; all men are faced with the choice:
faith or unbelief, and this or has become a burning issue.
"He that is not with me is against me, and he that gathers
not . . . , scatters abroad." The Revolution has revealed a
hard and terrifying truth concerning the Russian soul, to wit
an abyss of ancient faithlessness and denial, of demoniac
possession and of deterioration. This soul is poisoned, sub-
verted, torn to pieces. Being possessed and seduced, beset by
doubt and lure, it cannot possibly be healed and recover its
strength except through intense catechizing, through the light
of Christian reason, through the language of sincerity and
truth, through the voice of the Spirit and through its power.
The time is come already when the debate concerning the
souls of men appears in plain daylight. Now is the time
when every question about knowledge and life must truly
find and receive its Christian answer, when it must be
integrated in the synthesis and plenitude of confession. Now
is the time when theology ceases to be a "private affair/'
to which everyone may freely attend or show no regard, in
proportion of his aptitudes, tendencies, or moods. In this
time of temptation and judgment, theology becomes again a
public thing, a universal catholic mission. It behooves all
to take to spiritual arms. Now is already the time when
theological silence, uncertainty, inarticulate witness, are
tantamount to treason and flight before the enemy. Silence
can cause trouble as much as a hasty or elusive answer. More-
over, unto him who keeps silent, his mutism can be poison
and mean his downfall, and he becomes an accomplice, as
though faith were "a fragile thing, and not so certain/'
A "new theological epoch" has begun. Our time is called
upon to resume the task of theology. Some may find this
affirmation presumptuous, excessive and arbitrary. Was our
epoch not placed under the sign of "social Christianity" ever
since Lamennais and Morris, perhaps since Saint Simon? In
our troubled age, should not Christianity be called to "social
endeavors" for the edification of the New City? Is it still in
order today to re-direct religious consciousness toward the
intellectual problems of theology and to divert it from the
actual "social theme" which an irreversible course of events
has brought to the fore ? To do this seems rather incongruous
in view of the conditions which prevail today in Russia. Is
not Russia marked for action, rather than contemplation?
Are we justified in weakening the militant "activism" through
an appeal to reflection and concentration of the soul? "Doing
some theology" in our days appears to many among us
almost a treason or an escapism. Such objections or doubts
manifest a fatal blindness. This is certainly not the time to
withdraw from the "social question" precisely when the
"scarlet star" of socialism is risen to the firmament of
history. However, is not the "social question" first and fore-
most a spiritual question, a question of conscience and wis-
dom ? Is not the social revolution above all a psychic, con-
fused reversal of the tide? Is not the Russian Revolution a
spiritual catastrophe, a collapse of souls, a passionate out-
burst? Should it not be explained in spiritual terms? The
secret of Russia's future lies far less in her social structure
or technique, than in the new man that they try over there
to grow and develop, without God, without faith, without
love. As for the question of faith itself, is it not brought
back to the fore by an irretrievable course of events, in its
rigor, and its ultimate, apocalyptical evidence? Does not
all the intimate problematics of the absence of faith, of the
struggle against God, impose itself today with extreme acuity ?
"The spirit, not the flesh, has grown corrupt today, and
man knows a hopeless anguish." (Tyutchev)
It is precisely because we are already engaged in the
apocalyptic struggle that we are called upon to do work as
theologians. Our task is to oppose a responsible and conscious
profession of Christian truth to the atheistic and anti-God
attitude which surrounds us like a viscosity. There cannot be,
there is not, a "neutral" science of God and of Christianity,
indifference and abstention are no longer "freutral" also;
unbelieving knowledge of Christianity is not objective knowl-
edge, but rather some kind of "anti-theology." There is in it so
much passion, at times blind, often obscure and malignant.
There is also restlessness and unexpected glimmers; it would
be only an "anti-theology." Here again theology is called not
only to judge, but also to heal. It is necessary to enter into this
world of doubt, illusion and lies, in order to answer doubt as
well as reproach. But we must enter into this world with the
sign of the Cross in our heart and the name of Jesus in our
spirit, because this is a world of mystical wanderings, where
everything is fragmentized, decomposed and refracted as if
through a set of mirrors. And here again the theologian must
bear witness. This situation is not unlike that of the early cen-
turies, when the seeds had been sown and sprouted in a soil not
yet transfigured, but which this first sowing sanctified for the
first time. By then, those who announced the Good News had
to address themselves most of the time to hearts not en-
lightened, to the obscure and sinful conscience of the "nations"
to which they had been sent, and which were sitting in
darkness and in the shadow of death. Our contemporary
world, atheistic and ridden with unbelief, is it not comparable
in a sense with that pre-Christian world, renewed with all
the same interweaving of false religious trends, sceptical
and anti-God ? In the face of such a world, theology must all
the more become again a witness. The theological system
cannot be a mere product of erudition, it cannot be born of
philosophical reflection alone. It needs also the experience
of prayer, spiritual concentration, pastoral solicitude. In
theology, the good news, the kerygma, must be proclaimed.
The theologian must speak to living beings, address himself
to living hearts, he must be full of attention and love, con-
scious of his immediate responsibility for the soul of his
brother, and particularly for the soul that is still in the dark.
In knowledge in general there is and there must be an
element, not merely dialectic, but dia-logical. He who knows
bears witness for the benefit of those who together with him
have the knowledge of the truth; he calls upon them to bow
and be humble before it, and he should humble himself as
well. Humility is particularly necessary to the theologian.
He cannot possibly solve today the problems of souls and
consciences arising daily in the pastoral-pedagogical domain,
but should not brush them aside either: He must answer
from within a complete system of thought, by a theological
confession. He must experience in himself, as through an
intimate suffering, the entire problematic of the soul which
believes not and seeks not, the problematic of voluntary
ignorance and of ignorance not desired. The time is come
when the refusal of theological knowledge becomes a deadly
sin, the stigma of self-conceit and lovelessness, of cowardice
and maliciousness. Affected plainness seems a demoniac
maneuver; distrusting the reason that seeks must be con-
demned as satanic mischief. "They are stricken with fear,
where there is no fear..." It may be appropriate to recall
the sharp words of Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow,
here, spoken long ago in a time of trial and of evasive
attitudes. "It is very true that the gift and the duty to teach
are not everybody's lot, and rare are those whom the Church
has honored with the name of Theologian. However, it is not
permissible to anyone in Christianity to know nothing at all
and to remain ignorant. Was not the Lord himself called
Master and did he not call his followers disciples ? Christians,
before they assumed this title, bore the name of disciples.
Would these terms be vain or meaningless? And why did
the Lord send apostles into the world ? It was first and fore-
most to teach all nations... If you refuse to teach or to
learn within Christianity, you are not disciples of Christ and
you do not follow Him; the apostles were not sent for you;
you are not what all Christians were from the very beginning
of Christianity. I do not know what you are, nor what shall
become of you." (Sermons and Discourses, IV, pp. 151-2;
sermon preached in 1841, on the feast of St. Alexis).
VI
The future reveals itself to us under the sign of duty
more surely and with greater depth than it would under the
sign of expectation and foreboding. The future is not merely
something we are looking and waiting for, but rather some-
thing we must create. Our vocation has its source precisely
in the responsibility of duty. Even though we are not expect-
ing, yet we find in obedience itself the strength to create
and the power to beget. The arbitrariness of the will, on the
contrary, is a principle of dispersion. Integration in the Church
is through prayer, apocalyptic faithfulness, return to the
Fathers, a free encounter with the West: these, and other
similar factors compose the creative postulate of Russian
theology within the contemporary framework. Here also is
the legacy of the past, and our responsibilities, our obligation
toward it. Past errors and failures should not disturb us.
We have not reached the term of our course, the history of
the Church is not over yet, Russia is not yet at the end of the
road. The way ahead is still open, even though it is difficult.
The rigorous verdict of history must be transformed into a
creative appeal, in order that we may achieve what remains
to be done. "Through many pains does it behoove one to enter
into God's kingdom/' Orthodoxy is not a tradition only; it is
also a task; not the unknown x, but the data of the problem,
which we must forthwith work out. It is a germ of life, a
seed that sprouts, our duty and our mission.
The Russian way shall be for a long time a double one.
For those who have remained, there is the mysterious way of
asceticism, of the secret, silent work of acquiring the Spirit.
As for those who have left, there is also a way they must
travel, since freedom was left to us and also the power for
the spiritual activity of witnessing and preaching. It is only
through such effort that the past, filled as it is with fore-
bodings and premonitions, shall be justified, in spite of its
weaknesses and errors. True historical synthesis consists not
merely in interpreting the past, but also in shaping the future
by a creative act.
"Erat ante in operibus fratrum Candida, nunc facta
est in matyrum cruore purpurea. Floribus ejus nee
lilia, nee rosae desunt."
St. Cyprian
Translated from the French by
GEORGES A. BARROIS
NINETEENTH CENTURY
ECUMENISM
[PUBLISHER'S NOTE: The following article is the full text, including
notes, of Fr. Florovsky's survey of 'Orthodox Ecumenism in the Nineteenth
Century." An "abridged" form of this article appeared as a part of an over-all
historical survey of the Orthodox Church's relations with other Christian
communions in Volume II of The Collected Works of Georges Florovsky
Christianity and Culture.]
Orthodox Ecumenism
in the Nineteenth Century
EARLY DECADES of the XlXth century were
A marked by an unusual spiritual unrest in Europe. It
was a period of great historical shifts and tensions, catas-
trophes and commotions. The memories of the French Revolu-
tion were still quite fresh. Napoleonic wars turned the
whole of Europe into an armed camp, and even a battlefield.
The very rhythm of events was feverish. Apocalyptic fore-
bodings and apprehensions were widespread. Napoleon's
defeat in Russia was interpreted by not a few as "the Judg-
ment of God on the icy fields/' or simply as an eschatological
victory over the Beast. There was a growing urge for spiritual
unity. Theocratic utopianism was just in the air. In the
turbulent atmosphere of those stormy years many were led to
the conviction that the whole political and social life of
nations had to be radically rebuilt on a strictly Christian
"Orthodox Ecumenism in the Nineteenth Century" originally appeared
in St. Vladimir's Seminary Quarterly, Vol. IV, Nos. 3 and 4 (1956), 2-53.
Reprinted by permission of the author.
213
foundation. Many Utopian plans were laid at that time, of
which the most conspicuous was the famous Holy Alliance
(1815). Contracted by three monarchsone a Roman Catholic
(Austria), another a Lutheran (Prussia), and the third an
Eastern Orthodox (Russia)it was an act of an Utopian
ecumenism, in which political scheming and apocalyptic
dreams were ominously mingled. It was an attempt to re-enact
the unity of Christendom. There was but one Christian
Nation, of which the nations are the branches; and the true
Sovereign of all Christian people was Jesus Christ himself,
"no other than He to Whom belongeth might/' The Kingdom
of God has already been inaugurated, God himself ruling
through His anointed. The idea of Divine Providence assumed
at that time a rather magical glow. "And then the true New
Year will come/' As a political venture, the Holy Alliance
was a complete failure, a dreamy fiction, even a humbug.
Yet, it was a symptomatic venture. It was a scheme of
Christian unity. But it was to be a "Unity without Union,"
and not a "Re-union of Churches," but rather a federation
of all Christians into one "holy nation" across the denomina-
tional boundaries, regardless of all confessional allegiances.
Confessional divergences were simply disregarded or ignored,
or else disavowed as irrelevant. History became, as it were,
transparent, and one could, by faith and hope, discern the
signs of the approaching Eschatological Age. The Kingdom
of the Spirit will soon be manifested.
Initiative of the Holy Alliance was taken by the Russian
Emperor, Alexander I, but inspiration came to him from the
German pietistic and mystical circles (Jung Stilling, Franz
Baader, Mme. Krudener). The Emperor himself was quite
convinced of his theocratic vocation. He felt himself called
upon to assume religious leadership in his country and to
bring together all denominations. Alexander was well read
in the mystical and pietistic literature of the West and had
personal links with various mystical and revivalist groups.
He was especially attracted by the doctrine of the Inner
j
Nineteenth Century Ecumenism 215
Light. He wanted to propagate the pure and "Inner Chris-
tianity" in his country. A special ministry was created in
1817, the "Ministry of Spiritual Affairs and National Instruc-
tion," and, under the leadership of Prince Alexander N.
Galitzin, it immediately became the central office of Utopian
propaganda. Another center of this Utopian ecumenism was
the Russian Bible Society, inaugurated by an imperial rescript
in December, 1812, immediately after Napolean's retreat
from Russia, and finally reorganized on a national scale in
1814. Many local branches were established throughout the
Empire. Prince Galitzin was the president, and prelates of
different Churches were invited to act as vice-presidents or
directors: Eastern Orthodox, Armenian, and even the Roman
Catholic and Uniate Metropolitans. All had to co-operate
in the propagation of the Bible as the only source and only
authority of true Christianity. The Russian society was in
standing cooperation with the British and Foreign Bible
Society, and some representatives of the latter were always
on the Russian committee. The main purpose of the Bible
Society was, as in Britain, "to bring into greater use" the
Word of God, so that everyone could experience its saving
impact and meet God, "as His Holy Scriptures reveal Him."
The unbreakable rule of the Society was to publish the
Sacred Books "without any notes or explanations," in order
not to contaminate the Divine Word by human opinions and
not to compromise by partial interpretations its universal
significance. Behind this rule was the theory of "mute signs"
and "the living Teacher, dwelling in the hearts."
The immediate objective of the Society was to publish and
to distribute Bible translations in all languages spoken in the
Russian Empire, including Modern Russian. In the first ten
years over 700,000 copies were distributed, in 43 languages
or dialects. Along with the distribution of the Scriptures, a
mystical ideology was also propagated, an ecumenism of the
heart. The positive results of this endeavor should not be
overlooked; especially important was the initiative of the
translation of the Bible into Modern Russian, taken by the
Society with the formal consent of the Holy Synod. Un-
fortunately, the new ideology was often enforced upon
believers by administrative pressure, and no criticism of the
doctrines of "Inner Christianity" was permitted. This policy
could not fail to provoke a vigorous resistance in the wider
circles. Many felt that the Bible Society was propagating, as
it were, a "new faith" and tended to become a "new Church,"
above and across the existing ones. "Non-theological factors"
of the resistance cannot be denied. Yet, essentially it was an
instinctive self-defense on the part of the historic Churches
against the sweeping enthusiasm of the "spirituals," Ulti-
mately, the Bible Society was disbanded by order of the
Government in 1826 and its activities cancelled. The Russian
translation of the Bible was to be completed only fifty years
later, and this time by the authority of the Church itself.
The whole episode was an important essay in ecumenism.
It was an encounter of people of various backgrounds. They
had to face the problem of division. Unfortunately, the
problem was badly presented. The emphasis was shifted from
doctrine to "piety." Instead of facing the existing differences
and discussing the controversial points, people were invited
to disregard them altogether and to seek communion instantly
in mystical exercises. Doctrinal problems were simply dis-
regarded or silenced. There was an obvious "awakening of
the heart" at that time, but no "awakening of the mind."
Pectus est quod facit theologum: this was the motto of the
time. In any case, it was a narrow approach. One did not have
to be a rationalist to feel compelled to vindicate the rights and
claims of reason in theology. In any case, doctrinal problems
existed. "Inner Christianity" was a doctrine itself, and a very
particular doctrine indeed. It must be added that the whole
process was closely watched by a competent Roman Catholic
observer, who happened to be on the spot. He was the
famous Joseph De Maistre, at that time Sardinian Royal
ambassador at St. Petersburg. His Soires de St. Petersburg
are, in fact, based on his Russian impressions and on con-
versations he had with the Russians. His interpretation is
especially interesting because he was originally initiated in a
similar mystical experience and never abandoned the basic
presuppositions of his "theosophic" youth. His ultramontane
solution of the ecumenical problem was, in fact, a duplicate
of the Utopian ecumenism of the "spirituals." Both left their
stamp on the further development of ecumenical thinking
in Russia.
1
II
In the Conversation of a seeker and a believer concerning
the truth of the Eastern Greco-Russian Church, by Philaret,
Metropolitan of Moscow, we find a considered opinion on
the basic ecumenical question by one who had been through
the experiences of the "revivalist" age, and yet was deeply
rooted in the catholic tradition. The immediate purpose of
this "dialogue" was to give guidance to those Russians who
were, at that time, troubled by Roman Catholic propaganda
(the work was first published in 1832). But Philaret sets
forth the problem of Church unity in all its width. He
begins with the definition of the Church as the Body of
Christ. The full measure and inner composition of the Body
is known to Christ alone, who is its Head, its principle of
life and ruling wisdom. The "visible Church," the Church in
history, is but an external manifestation of the glorious
"Church invisible," which cannot be "seen" distinctly, but
only discerned and apprehended by faith. The visible Church
includes the "infirm" members, also. The main criterion here
is that of the Christological belief. "Mark you, I do not
presume to call false any church, believing that Jesus is Christ.
The Christian Church can only be either purely true, con-
fessing the true and saving Divine teaching without the false
admixture and pernicious opinions of men, or not purely true,
mixing with the true and saving teaching of faith in Christ
the false and pernicious opinions of men." Christendom is
visibly divided. The Church of Rome deviated from the teach-
ing of the early Church Universal; yet it is still united with
the rest of Christendom in its Christological faith. Authority
in the Church belongs to the common consent of the Church
Universal, based on the Word of God. Ultimately, separated
from the Church are only those who do not confess that Jesus
is Son of God, God Incarnate, and Redeemer. The Eastern
Church has ever been faithful to the original deposit of
faith; it has kept the pure doctrine. In this sense, it is the
only true Church.
But Philaret would not "judge" or condemn the other
Christian bodies (he had in view, first of all, the "Western
Church/' i.e., Rome). Even the "impure" churches somehow
belong to the mystery of Christian Unity. The ultimate judg-
ment belongs to the Head of the Church. The destiny of
Christendom is one, and in the history of schisms and divisions
one may recognize the secret action of Divine Providence,
which heals the wounds and chastizes the deviations, that
ultimately it may bring the glorious Body of Christ to unity
and perfection. "You expect now that I should give judgment
concerning the other half of the present Christianity, but I
just simply look upon them; in part I see how the Head and
Lord of the Church heals many deep wounds of the old
serpent in all the parts and limbs of this body, applying
now gentle, now strong remedies, even fire and iron, in order
to soften hardness, to draw out poison, to clean the wounds,
to separate our malignant growths, to restore spirit and life
in the half-dead and numbed structures. In such wise I attest
my faith that in the end the power of God patently will
triumph over human weakness, good over evil, unity over
division, life over death." Obviously, Philaret was much ahead
of his time, not only in the East; and yet to some extent
his ideas served as a basis for the reunion of the Uniates in
Western Russia (1839).
On the other hand, Philaret's outline was clearly incom-
plete. He spoke of one aspect of unity only, namely of unity
in doctrine. He did not say much of the Church order. And
probably Vladimir Soloviev was right in his critical remarks:
"The breath and conciliatory nature of this view cannot con-
ceal its essential defects. The principle of unity and univer-
sality in the Church only extends, it would seem, to the com-
mon ground of Christian faith, namely the dogma of the
Incarnation . . . The Universal Church is reduced to a logical
concept. Its parts are real, but the whole is nothing but a
subjective abstraction." This is, of course, an exaggeration.
The Church Universal was for Philaret not "a logical con-
cept/' but a mystery, the Body of Christ in its historical
manifestation. What is true, however, is that the "sacramental
aspect" of the Church was not sufficiently emphasized; and
for that reason, the relationship between the "invisible" unity
of the Church and its historical state at present, "the Church
in its divided and fragmentary condition," was not clearly
explained.
Philaret was probably the greatest theologian of the
Russian Church in modern times, and his influence on the
life and theological thinking in Russia was enormous. He
was a great scholar, Biblical and Patristic, and a man of a
sensitive heart, warm piety and mystical insight. In addition
he was a master of speech, a great preacher. Yet, Philaret did
his studying at a time when Russian theological schools were
dominated by Protestant textbooks and the influence of
Protestant phraseology can easily be detected in his writings.
He was well read in the mystical literature of all ages and
of different denominations, and was invariably impressed by
"warm piety" wherever he might find it. All these influences
enlarged his theological vision, and he was fully aware of
the unity of Christendom, and of Christian destiny. With all
this he was truly traditional, and the real masters of his
thoughts were the Holy Fathers of the Church. Philaret had
a strong anti-Roman bias and was an avowed enemy of
"scholasticism," In later years, he had several occasions to
express himself on certain particular ecumenical topics (mainly
in connection with Anglican-Orthodox relations; see below).
He was regarded as the chief theological expert in the Rus-
sian Church of his day. He was a living link between several
generations: Born in 1782, he died in 1867, and was Metro-
politan of Moscow for 47 years (from 1821), active and
fresh until the day of his death.
2
Il l
The second quarter of the XlXth century was a time of
theological revival in many countries. Interest was centered
precisely on ecclesiology. It was, in a certain sense, a true
rediscovery of the Church, as being an organic and concrete
reality, with special stress on her historic continuity, per-
petuity, and essential unity. The famous book by John Adam
Moehler (1796-1838), Professor of Church History on the
Catholic Faculty of Tubingen (and later at Munich), Die
Einheit in der Kirche, oder das Prinzip des Katholicismus
(1825), must be mentioned first of all in this connection.
It was a great ecumenical book, although its ecumenical
implications were not obvious at first glance, and its im-
mediate sequel, Moehler's Symbolik (1832), led the author
into a vigorous polemics with the Protestants. In any case,
Moehler's conception of Church Unity meant a move from
a "static" to a "dynamic," or even "prophetic," interpretation.
The Church was shown to be more than an "institution,"
rather a living organism, and its institutional aspect was
described as a spontaneous manifestation of its inner being.
Tradition itself was interpreted as a factor of growth and
life, and Moehler's appeal to Christian Antiquity was by no
means just an archeological concern. The "past" was still
alive, as the vital power and spiritual leavenas "the depth
of the present."
8
It may be argued whether Moehler's con-
ception had any direct influence on the formation of the
Tractarian theology of the Church. Yet, a "palpable con-
vergence of views" between the Early Tractarians and the
Catholic School of Tbingen cannot be denied, even if it
can be explained by a parallel development of the same
fundamental prsuppositions.
4
About the same time, Alexis S. Khomiakov (1804-1860)
in Russia was very close to Moehler in his treatment of
ecclesiological doctrine, and probably was well acquainted
with his writings, even if he arrived at his conclusions by an
independent study of the Fathers.
5
In all these cases there
was a renewed interest in Christian antiquity, but it was
regarded as a source of inspiration, rather than as an estab-
lished pattern to be reinforced. What actually was redis-
covered was the vision of an organic continuity in the Church,
both structural and dynamic. Or perhaps one should say it
was a rediscovery of the sacred character of the historical
process in the Church. The identity of Christian belief had
to be warranted by a universal consent through the ages. But
it was no longer just a formal identity of doctrine, regarded
in itself as a set of propositions, but rather a perpetuity of
the living Church, which professes beliefs and teaches doc-
trines out of its unchangeable vision and experience. The
Church itself now becomes the main subject of theological
study. The most spectacular episode in this ecclesiological
revival was, no doubt, the Oxford Movement in the Church
of England (and its ramifications in the other branches of
the Anglican Communion). Its main concern was the vindica-
tion of the "Catholic" character of the Anglican Church. The
Church of England had to be regarded as the "Catholic
Church in England." Then, it was inevitable to ask an
"ecumenical" question: what was the relation of this local
or territorial "Catholic" Church to all other "Catholic
Churches" in various parts of the world? The answer cur-
rently given to this question is commonly known as "the
branch theory" of the Church. It is very difficult to find
out by whom this imagery of the "branches" was first used
in this connection,
6
but it does not particularly matter. There
was already a suggestion behind the famous phrase of
Lancelot Andrewes: Pro Ecclesia Catholica: Orientali, Oc-
cidentali, Brittanica. Apparently Newman used it in the same
sense at an early date: "We are the English Catholics; abroad
are the Roman Catholics, some of whom are also among
ourselves; elsewhere are the Greek Catholics."
7
Much later, many years after his "conversion," Newman
interpreted "the formal teaching of Anglicanism" ("this is
what we held and professed in Oxford forty years ago")
in the following way (written in 1882) : at present, the
Church existed in three branches, "or rather in a triple pre-
sence,"the Latin, the Greek, and the Anglican"these
three being one and the same Church," except for some
secondary, fortuitous and local variations, even if they are
rather important. "And, whereas the whole Church in its
fullness was at once and severally Anglican, Greek and Latin,
so in turn each one of those three was the whole Church;
whence it followed that, whenever any one of the three was
present, the other two, by the nature of the case, were absent,
and therefore the three could not have direct relations with
each other, as if they were three substantive bodies, there
being no real difference between them except the external
accident of place. Moreover, since, as has been said, on a
given territory, there could be no more than one of the three,
it followed that Christians generally, wherever they were,
were bound to recognize, and had a claim to be recognized
by, that one, ceasing to belong to the Anglican Church, as
Anglican, when they were in Rome, and ignoring Rome as
Rome, when they found themselves in Moscow. Lastly, not to
acknowledge this inevitable outcome of the initial idea of
the Church, viz., that it was both everywhere and one, was
bad logic, and to act in opposition to it was nothing short
of setting up altar against altar, that is, the hideous sin of
schism, and sacrilege."
8
This theory amounted to the conten-
tion that, strictly speaking, the Church was not divided at
all, and only visible communication (or "communion") had
been broken, and therefore the problem of *'re-union" con-
sisted in the restoration of the suspended "inter-communion,"
or in the mutual recognition of the separated branches of the
Catholic Church. This point of view was held, strongly and
persistently, by William Palmer, of Worcester College, Ox-
ford, in his book, which can be regarded as the first
systematic presentation of Tractarian ecclesiology: Treatise
on the Church of Christ: designed chiefly for the use of
students of Theology (first published in 1838; 2nd ed. 1839;
3rd ed. 1842; 2 vols.). In the author's opinion, "external
communion" did not belong to the essence of the Church,
and consequently the Church was still One, although the
visible unity of the body had been lost.
It should not be forgotten that this theory was concerned
with the "Catholic Churches" only, and all non-Episcopal
denominations were not regarded as "churches" in any proper
sense of the term. It should be noted again that, according
to this theory or interpretation, a very wide variety, and even
a serious divergence, of doctrinal views and practices was
compatible with essential unity. In other words, the main
emphasis was on the reality of the Church, and not so much
on the Doctrine as such.
9
Practically, this interpretation of
Church unity has remained, ever since, the basic presupposi-
tion, on the Anglican side, of all negotiations between the
Anglican Communion and the Orthodox Churches of the
East. And it was precisely at this point that a major misunder-
standing between the Churches was bound to arise, even if
the Orthodox would not on all occasions openly and formally
question the initial assumption of the Anglicans. In any case,
the former would always insist upon an identity of doctrine
and make the "reality" of the Church itself dependent upon
the purity and completeness of the Faith. It may even be
argued that the basic obstacle for the rapprochement between
the Anglicans and the Churches of the East lay in the field
of Ecclesiology. Eastern theologians would repeatedly insist
that the Orthodox Church is the only true Church, and all
other Christian bodies are but "schisms," i.e. that the unity
of Christendom had been essentially broken. This claim of
the Orthodox could be variously phrased and qualified, but,
in one form or another, it would unfailingly be made on all
occasions.
IV
The Early Tractarians were not especially interested in
the contemporary Churches of the East. Of course, all of
them, and especially Newman and Pusey, were deeply in-
terested in the Greek Fathers, as authoritative witnesses and
interpreters of the Apostolic and Catholic Faith. The "Tracts
for die Times'* were full of Patristic references and quota-
tions, and the Library of Fathers of the Holy Catholic Church,
anterior to the division of the East and West was one of the
main enterprises of the Tractarians. Yet, the Early Tractarians
would not identify the "Church of the Fathers" with the
contemporary "Churches of the East." In spite of theoretical
recognition, the Christian East was not yet recognized as an
integral part of Christendom in practice. It was still felt to
comprise rather a "strange world." The prevailing impres-
sion in the Anglican circles was that the Churches in the
East were decadent, backward, ignorant or somnolent, and
"corrupt"; even the Tractarians were not free from this
prejudice. "Some Early Tractarian writings suggest complete
indifference (to the Eastern Church), and seem content to
take into account only Rome and the Church of England.
And besides poverty of allusion, there are instances of insuf-
ficient familiarity with the subject" (P. E. Shaw).
10
More
information became available in the 'forties, but interest
was growing rather slowly.
It was disappointment in the West, i.e. Rome, which
diverted attention to the East. As early as 1840, Pusey raised
the question.
It will come as a painful question to many, and
to some be a difficulty as to our Church (as they
come to see the perfect unity of Antiquity), why
are we in communion with no other Church except
our own sisters or daughters?We cannot have
communion with Rome; why should we not with
the Orthodox Greek Church ? Would they reject us,
or must we keep aloof? Certainly one should have
thought that those who have not conformed with
Rome would, practically, be glad to be strengthened
by intercourse with us, and countenanced by us. One
should have hoped that they would have been glad
to be re-united with a large Christian Church exterior
to themselves, provided we need not insist upon
their adopting the Filioque.
11
In the following year, Pusey repeated the same question
in his "Open Letter" to Dr. Jelf: "Why should we. . .direct
our eyes to the Western Church alone, which, even if
united in itself would yet remain sadly maimed, and sadly
short of the Oneness she had in her best days, if she con-
tinued severed from the Eastern?"
12
Pusey was probably impressed by contacts recently estab-
lished with the Greek Church (to which he was alluding,
also, in his "Letter" to the Archbishop of Canterbury), in
connection with the proposal of erecting an Anglican bishopric
in Jerusalem (jointly with the Church of Prussia).
13
In the
fall of 1839, the Rev. George Tomlinson, at that time
Secretary of S.P.C.K. (and later first Bishop of Gibraltar),
was sent to the East, primarily in order to ascertain the needs
of the Greek Church in the field of religious literature.
He was given commendatory letters, addressed to "the Bishops
of the Holy Eastern Church," by the Archbishop of Canter-
bury and Bishop of London, and written in ancient Greek.
He called on the Patriarch of Constantinople and explained
to him the character of the English Church, stressing its
Catholic character and its friendly disposition "toward the
Mother Church of the East" He wanted to stress especially
that the Anglican Church, as such, had no missionary ob-
jective in the Levant, but was interested only in fraternal
intercourse with the Eastern Church.
14
The same attitude was
taken by the American Episcopalian representative at Con-
stantinople, The Rev. Horatio Southgate (later Bishop),
acting head of the "Mission" of the Protestant Episcopal
Church to the East. He was following closely the official
instruction given him by the Presiding Bishop, Alexander V.
Griswold: "Our great desire is to commence and to promote
a friendly intercourse between the two branches of the One
Catholic and Apostolic Church." Bishop Griswold himself
was a man of strong "evangelical" convictions, but his
directives were colored by another conception of Ecumenical
relationship.
15
Pusey seemed to be justified in his conclusion. "This
reopened intercourse with the East," he wrote to the Arch-
bishop, 'VJT a crisis in the history of our Church. It is a wave
which may carry us onward, or, if we miss it, it may bruise
us sorely and fall on us, instead of landing us on the shore.
The union or disunion of the Church for centuries may
depend upon the wisdom with which this providential open-
ing is employed."
16
The question of the Eastern Church, in
any case, had been brought to the fore. In this perspective,
"the Palmer episode," i.e. William Palmer's (of Magdalen
College, Oxford) visits to Russia in 1840 and 1841, and
his protracted conversations (oral and epistolary) with the
Orthodox authorities and scholars, appears to be much more
than an eccentric personal venture or just a detached "epi-
sode," as much as it has been colored by the individual
character of the man and his private convictions and man-
ners. One should not forget that Palmer vigorously inter-
vened in the debate about the Jerusalem Bishopric and took
an anti-Protestant position.
17
His visit to Russia was, as it
were, an experimental test of the ecumenical validity of the
general Tractarian conception of the Church Universal.
William Palmer (1811-1879) has been described by one
of his friends as an ''ecclesiastical Don Quixote" (Canon F.
Meyrick). He was also called the Ulysses of the Tractarian j
Movement. He was an an ecumenical traveller indeed. Palmer !
was a man of unusual abilities: he had wide and profound
learning, a powerful intellectthough rather inflexibe and
obstinatesteadfastness of purpose, unbending sincerity and
strong will. His main weakness was precisely his organic
inability to compromise, or to adjust himself to the circum-
stances"his inability to reconcile himself to the conditions
of imperfect humanity and human institutions/' as Canon
Meyrick put itwhich made him ultimately a champion of
forlorn hopes. He had a very solid classical background
having commenced Greek at the age of six (and Latin at
five), and he was already using the Greek Testament as a
boy of nine. It provided an early preparation for his later
study of the Christian East. A graduate of Eton and Magdalen
College, Oxford, where he obtained first class in Classics,
Palmer was for some years classical tutor at Durham, sub-
sequently returning to Oxford, as a Fellow of his own
college.
His interest in the East was probably first aroused by his
contact with a Nestorian Christian, who happened to be on
a visit to England (in 1837). In 1839, during the visit of
the Russian Heir Apparent to Oxford, Palmer presented
him a memorandum (approved by the old Dr. Routh), sug-
gesting that a Russian ecclesiastic should be sent to Oxford
(to reside at Magdalen) in order to examine the doctrines
of the Anglican Church, and asking for protection in the
case of his own visit to Russia with a similar purpose. He
actually went to Russia in the following year and was given
a letter of introduction by the President of Magdalen, in
spite of the strong objection raised by certain Fellows of
the college "against this Society's giving any encouragement
to the idea of intercommunion with the idolatrous Greek
Church/' Curiously enough, the man who raised the objection
went over to Rome in the next year (R. W. Sibthorp).
18
The
letter was in Latin, on parchment, and sealed. It was stated
that Palmer was going to Russia in order to study doctrines
and rites of the Church, and to learn Russian. Then followed
an unexpected clause. "Further, I ask, and even adjure in the
name of Christ, all the most holy Archbishops and Bishops,
and especially the Synod itself, that they examine him as to
the orthodoxy of his faith with a charitable mind, and, if
they find in him all that is necessary to the integrity of the
true and saving faith, then that they will also admit him to
communion in the Sacraments."
Palmer was instructed to conform with all injunctions
of the Russian bishops, while in Russia, provided he would
not contradict the faith and teaching of the British Church.
The document was probably composed by Palmer himself,
but Dr. Routh consented to issue it in his own name, al-
though he anticipated that Palmer's request could not be
granted: "for a separation there unhappily is." Archbishop
Howley of Canterbury declined to be implicated in the venture
in any way, although he was rather interested in its prospects.
As should have been expected, Palmer's hope was frustrated.
His claim to be a member of the Catholic Church was met
with astonishment. Was not the Church of England, after all,
a "Protestant" body? As Newman put it at that time, "the
Russians will not believe him against the evidence of all
the English they ever saw before."
19
In 1838 and 1839, Palmer
wrote (in Latin) an Introduction to the Thirty-Nine Articles,
in which he endeavored to interpret them in a Catholic
J
sense, anticipating in a certain sense what Newman was
going to do in his famous Tract XC (published in February
1841), although Newman himself read Palmer's essay only
after his own had been published. Palmer's "Introduction"
was printed privately and apparently was not widely circu-
lated. Now, he offered it to the Russian authorities as a
basis for doctrinal discussion. He felt, himself, that he could
agree with the Eastern doctrine on all essential issues, except
the teaching about the procession of the Holy Spirit, on which
he was still holding the Western view. Not everything in
Palmer's explanations was satisfactory to the Russians. They
were insistent on a complete conformity in all doctrines,
and would not consent to confine the "agreement" to those
doctrines which were formally stated in the period before
the separation of the East and West. The main interlocutor
of Palmer was the Archpriest Basil Koutnevich, the Chaplain
General of the Army and Navy, and Member of the Holy
Synod. He was ready to admit that doctrinal differences
between the Orthodox and Anglican Churches, if properly
interpreted, were rather slight. Nevertheless, in his opinion,
the Anglican Church was a separate communion. His con-
ception of the Church was, more or less, the same as that of
Metropolitan Philaret. The Eastern Church was the only true
and orthodox Church; all other communions have deviated
from the truth. Yet, "Christ is the center of all," and Chris-
tian life was possible in the separated bodies also.
For Palmer it was
tf
amabilis sane sententia, sed perniciosis-
sima doctrina," which could only encourage relativism, indif-
ference, and even unbelief. For him, no real "sanctity" was
possible in heretical or sectarian bodies. Moreover, he could
not equate the Eastern Church with the Church Universal.
In any case, she did not act as a Universal Body, and was
too tolerant. Russians, on the other hand, were staggered,
as Palmer himself stated, "at the idea of one visible Church
being made up of three communions, differing in doctrine
and rites, and two of them at least condemning and anathe-
matizing the others/' In Palmer's opinion, Russian theologians
and prelates were not clear at all on the definition of the
visible Catholic Church, "but were either vaguely liberal, or
narrowly Greek." One should keep in mind that when Palmer
visited Russia it was during a time of theological transition,
or of a "Struggle for Theology." A great variety of opinions
could be found among theologians. They were in search of
a new theological synthesis. This was probably a common
feature of the epoch, a revival of search after the decline
of the Enlightment.
20
It was recently stated by a competent Roman Catholic
scholar that in the 'forties there was no Catholic theology,
but only some edifying Apologetics.
21
It does not mean, how-
ever, that there was doctrinal confusion. In his "Notes,"
'Palmer gives an interesting picture of the Russian Church.
He met there many people with whom he could discuss
problems as he could have at home, at Oxford or elsewhere,
although his errand seemed to his Russian friends rather
bizarre. Finally, he had an interview with Metropolitan Phil-
aret. The latter could not accept Palmer's initial assumption
that unity of the Church could be preserved when there was
no longer unity in doctrine. "The Church should be perfectly
one in belief," Philaret contended. Distinction between es-
sential "dogmas" and secondary "opinions" was for him
precarious and difficult to draw. In fact, the invocation of
saints, prayer for the departed, the use of ikons, etc. were
as essential for the Orthodox as they were a stumbling-block,
at that time, even for the Anglo-Catholics. "Your language,"
Philaret told Palmer, "suits well enough for the fourth
century, but is out of place in the present state of the world. . .
now at any rate there is division." It was almost the same
as what Palmer was told at Oxford by Dr. Routh: "a separa-
tion there unhappily is." And therefore it was impossible to
act as if there were no division or separation. Moreover,
it was impossible to act in a particular case before the ques-
tion of relationship between the two Churches, the Anglican
J
Nineteenth Century Ecumenism
231
and Orthodox, had been settled in a general form. Again,
it was by no means clear to what extent Palmer could be
regarded as an authentic interpreter of the official teaching
and position of the Anglican Church. In fact, he was speaking
only for one particular trend in the Church. Palmer failed
to obtain an official letter of introduction from the Arch-
bishop of Canterbury, because the latter would not associate
himself with that interpretation of the Thirty-Nine Articles
which Palmer elaborated in his Latin thesis.
In brief, Russian authorities refused to regard Palmers
membership in the Church of England as a sufficient reason
for claiming a communicant status in the Orthodox Church,
and could not negotiate reunion with a private individual,
who had no credentials from his own Church. Yet, there
was full willingness, on the Russian side, to inaugurate
some sort of negotiations. Palmer visited Russia again in
1842, and this time he was supplied with an episcopal recom-
mendation, which he obtained from Bishop M. H. T. Lus-
combe, residing in Paris as supervisor of the Anglican
chaplancies on the Continent. He had no title and could not
be regarded as a diocesan bishop. He was consecrated by
the Scottish bishops, but even the Episcopal Church in
Scotland would not regard him as*a regular member of the
Scottish episcopate. There was another, though accidental,
complication. Palmer was very much upset by the fact that
one Russian lady had been received in the Church of England.
It contradicted his theory. Anglicans should not "convert"
the Orthodox, but could admit them to communionprecisely
on the basis of their being Orthodox. It was a situation
similar to Palmer's own, but in reversal. Palmer succeeded
in imposing this interpretation on Bishop Luscombe, but
failed to convince the lady. Finally he decided to refer the
whole case to the Bishops of the Scottish Episcopal Church.
The Russian Synod once more refused to negotiate on Palmer's
terms, but welcomed the desire to enter into communion
with the Orthodox Church. Identity of belief was stressed
as an indispensible pre-requisite of communion, and a refer-
ence was made to the answer given by the Eastern Patriarchs
to the Non-Jurors in 1723. Palmer persisted and presented
a new petition to the Synod, asking that a confessor should
be appointed to examine his beliefs and show his errors.
Fr. Koutneyitch was appointed and made it clear that, in his
opinion, certain of the Thirty-Nine Articles were obviously
not in agreement with the Orthodox doctrine. Palmer, on the
other hand, offered his own reconciliatory explanation of
the articles in question. Koutnevitch replied that even Bishop
Luscombe, under whose sponsorship Palmer came to Russia
this time, was interpreting them in a quite unorthodox way
in his recently published book: The Church of Rome Com-
pared with the Bible, the Fathers of the Church, and the
Church of England (1839).
Palmer still wondered when the Church of England sepa-
rated from the Eastern Church. The answer wasin 1054.
Palmer was prepared to anathematize most of the points
indicated by Fr. Koutnevitch, but persisted in denying that
they could be found explicitly or implicitly in the Articles.
Now, he had to prove that this contention of his would be
endorsed by the Church. The first thing Palmer did was to
gather evidence "from Scottish and Anglican authorities,"
exhibiting conformity with Orthodox doctrine. For that
purpose Palmer republished, in 1846, Blackmore's transla-
tion of the "longer Russian Catechism" (by Philaret; English
translation first published in 1845, Aberdeen, under the title
The Doctrine of the Russian Church, with a valuable intro-
duction), with an Appendix of his own: "consisting of notes
to the foregoing Catechism, with extracts from public docu-
ments of the Scottish and Anglican Churches, and from the
writings of some of their most celebrated Divines; designed
to show that there is in the Anglican Communion generally,
and more particularly and preeminently in the Scottish Church,
an element of Orthodoxy, capable, by a synodal act, of
declaring unity and identity with the Eastern Catholic
j
Church." The title of the book was: A Harmony of Anglican
Doctrine with the Doctrine of the Catholic and Apostolic
Church of the East... (Aberdeen, A. Brown & Co., 1846;
the name of the author was not given). A Greek version of
the book was published by Palmer in Athens in 1851. The
dedication of the book was phrased: "To the Most Reverend
the Primus, and to the Bishops, Clergy and Laity generally,
of the Scottish Church... as to the only existing representative
of that Catholic remnant which in the reign of Peter the
First held a correspondence with the Eastern Patriarchs, and
with the Russian Synod"this phrasing was significant. It
was a betrayal of the author's diffidence in the Church of
England. It also betrayed his indebtedness to the Non-Jurors.
Palmer still had hopes. There was always in the Anglican
Church "a Catholic school" or party, along with the Puritan
one. Was it impossible to hope that this school should
prevail and succeed in purging out "the remaining leaven of
Calvinism?" Then "the communion with the East" would
be re-opened to Anglicans. In Palmer's opinion, the Scottish
Church was exceptionally qualified for leadership in this
endeavor. It had never descended to the level of the English
Church, which had been overruled by the civil authority. If
there was no "actual agreement" between the Anglican and
Eastern doctrines, it was possible to prove that on every point
"an Anglican doctrine similar to the Eastern" really did
exist. It might ultimately become the "formal doctrine" of
the Church. Palmer then commended the "Russian Catechism"
to the consideration of the Scottish Church as a document,
which could "be read and used not merely as an Eastern or
Russian document, but equally as our own." If only this
sound doctrine, which, as Palmer contended, was held by
many leading teachers of the Anglican (especially Scottish)
Church, could be "synodically asserted" in the name of the
whole Church, communion with the East would be secured.
It was on the basis of this conviction that Palmer made his
formal "Appeal" to the Scottish Church, first to "the
2 34 Aspect^ of Church History
Presbyters of the united Dioceses of St. Andrews, Dunkell and
Dumblane," and finally to the Episcopal Synod.
His "appeal" included two points: the right of "'passive
communion'' in other Catholic bodies and the "orthodox"
interpretation of the Articles. Of course, it was quite un-
realistic to expect that Scottish bishops could accept Palmer's
proposal, which would amount to a disavowal of the current
Anglican trend of thought and might split the Anglican
Communion. It is significant, however, that Palmer's "appeal"
was favorably received in the Diocese of St. Andrewes and
could be published with an "advertisement" by Bishop P.
Torry {quoad the importance of the subject). There was a
considerable body of agreement behind Palmer's appeal. His
book was warmly appraised by people like J. M. Neale. In
the latter's opinion, it was a "very remarkable book," and
he regretted that it was not given much more attention. "It
will probably stand, in the future history of our Churches,
as the most remarkable event that has occurred since the
disruption of the Non-Jurors."
22
Palmer's "appeal" was
declined by the bishops. It came as a shock to him. He was
disoriented for a time, and then decided to seek admission in
the Orthodox Church, as he became quite certain by that time
that she kept and was faithfully keeping the pure Apostolic
doctrine. He still had certain scruples. In this connection his
new book was of importance: Dissertations on subjects
relating to the "Orthodox" or "Eastern-Catholic" Communion
(London, 1853; cf. the Greek version, Athens, 1852). An
unexpected difficulty confused his plans. His baptism had
been contested by the Greeks, whereas in Russia it was
formally recognized as valid. He could not reconcile himself
with such a flagrant dissension within the same Communion
on a matter of primary importance. On the other hand, he
could not continue outside of the visible communion of the
Catholic Church. Finally, he joined the Church of Rome. He
made it clear, however, that it was but an act of obedience,
and, as to his private judgment, he was assenting to Greek
rather than to Latin Theology, even on the points con-
troversial between Rome and the East, including the doctrine
of the Church itself. Even after his "conversion,", he was
deeply interested in the Orthodox Church. He spent years
working on a monumental book on Patriarch Nikon, which
was finally published in six volumes: The Patriarch and The
Tsar (London, 1871-1876). He was wrestling here with a
general problem, which had already been suggested by his
Anglican experience: the relationship between the Church
and the State. He was a strong dfendent of Church supremacy
and independence.
23
VI
In his conversations with the Russian ecclesiastical au-
thorities Palmer was concerned mainly with those particular
points of doctrine on which disagreement was alleged to
exist between the two Churches. It was chiefly these points
which he covered once more in his Dissertations. He had,
however, an opportunity to discuss the basic doctrine of the
Church and its impact on the problem of Christian unity
with a man who had no official position in the Russian
Church, but, in the years to come, was to exercise an enormous
influence on the ways of Russian theology: A. S. Khomiakov,
who was a layman. Khomiakov wanted to re-state the
Orthodox tradition in a new idiom, which would be at the
same time modern and traditional, i.e. in conformity with the
teaching of the Fathers and with the continuous experience
of the living Church. He wanted to liberate Russian theology,
first of all, from the bondage of Western Scholasticism,
which had been cultivated for a long time in the schools.
He began, accordingly, with the doctrine of the Church itself.
It was only on this point that he succeeded in formulating
his belief, in a brief but almost "catechetical'* pamphlet:
"The Church Is One/'
24
He gives no definitions, but rather
describes the mystery. The Church is for him just "a unity
of the grace of God, living in a multitude of rational
creatures, submitting themselves willingly to grace." Yet,
the mystery is fully expressed in the "visible," i.e., the his-
torical, Church. The "One Church" for Khomiakov was
essentially identical with the Orthodox Church. It was not
just one of the many existing "communions," but precisely
the Church. "Western Communions," in his view, did not
belong to the Church, being in fact the "schisms." Com-
munion had actually been broken. There was a division not
only on an historical plane, but also in the very ontology of
Christian life. Some links obviously still existed, but they
were of such a nature that no theological analysis could
adequately grasp them: that is, in relation to the "One
Church," other communions were "united to her by ties which
God has not willed to reveal to her." Theologians could
wrestle only with the problem of schism: the Church and the
[separated] "communions"
25
whose ties "God has not willed
to reveal to her."
The Church on earth cannot pass an ultimate judgment
on those who do not belong to its fold. It is impossible to
state to what extent errors may deprive individuals of salva-
tion. The real question is, however, in regard to the identity
of the Church itself. What is essential here is, first of all,
"a complete harmony, or a perfect unity of Doctrine." For
Khomiakov, it was not just an agreement, but rather an inner
unanimity, a "common life" in the Catholic Truth. "Unions"
are impossible in the Orthodox Church; there can be only
"Unity." This "Unity" has been broken: the West separated
itself from the unity, i.e., acted as a self-contained entity. It
was a violation of Christian love, a substitution of the parti-
cular for the universal. Unity can be restored only by the
return of those who went their own way, instead of abiding
in it originally. This was just the opposite of what Palmer
contended. Thus, discussion was brought sharply to focus on
this issue. "The Church cannot be a harmony of discords; it
cannot be a numerical sum of Orthodox, Latins, and Prot-
estants. It is nothing if it is not perfect inward harmony of
creed and outward harmony of expression/' Khomiakov
believed that "Sacraments were performed only in the bosom
of the true Church/' and could not be separated from that
"Unity" in faith and grace, which was, by his interpretation,
the very being of the Church. It did not matter in which
way the Orthodox Church received those who would decide
to join it. The rites may vary, but in any case some "renova-
tion" of the rites conferred outside of the Orthodox Church
"was virtually contained in the rite or fact of reconcilia-
tion."
This was written before Palmer had to face the fact of
divergent practice in the matter of reconciliation in his own
case. When it happened, Khomiakov expressed his disagree-
ment with the Greek practice, but would not exaggerate the
importance of the difference. For him, in any case, there had
to be some act of first incorporation into the Church. At this
point he obviously diverged not only from the current practice,
but also from the teaching of the Russian Church, and was
nearer to the modern Greek interpretation, although he did
not mention the concept of "oeconomia." Probably he wanted
to dissociate himself from the current Roman doctrine (which
goes back to St. Augustine), which would allow, under
certain conditions, the existence of "valid" Sacraments also
outside the visible and canonical boundaries of the (Roman)
Church. From his point of view, it was a sheer legalism.
For Khomiakov, the Church was real precisely as an actual
communion in the Truth and in Grace, both inseparably
belonging together. Those who do not share in this com-
munion are not in the Church. The reality of the Church is
indivisible. It was at this point that the first editor of
Khomiakov's letters to Palmer (in Russian), Fr. Alexander
M. Ivantzov-Platonov (Professor of Church History at the
University of Moscow), found it necessary to add a critical
footnote. On the whole, he shared Khomiakov's interprta-
tion of the Church, but he was not prepared to deny the
presence of Sacramental grace in separated communions.
Ivantzov did his studying at the Moscow Academy, and was
probably influenced by the ideas of Philaret. There was an
obvious difference between the two interpretations: Philaret's
conception was wider and more comprehensive; Khomiakov's
was more cautious and reserved. Both interpretations still
co-exist in the Orthodox Church, with resulting differences
of approach to the main Ecumenical problem.
26
VII
Palmer's approach to the Russian Church was a private
and personal move. Yet it did not fail to arouse an interest
in the Anglican Church among the Russians. At his first
departure from Russia in 1842, he was told by the Chief
Procurator of the Holy Synod, Count Pratassov, that a new
chaplain was to be appointed to the Russian Church in
London, who might be able to learn the language and study
Anglican divinity. It was precisely what Palmer wanted at
that time. Accordingly, the Rev. Eugene Popoff, a graduate
of St. Petersburg Theological Academy, was transferred in
the next year from Copenhagen to London, where he was
to serve for many years, until his death in 1875. Fr. Popoff
used to send periodic reports to the Holy Synod concerning
ecclesiastical affairs in England, and he established close
links with the leading churchmen in the country, including
Pusey and Newman. Unfortunately, these reports were pub-
lished only in part, many years after the author's death, and
only in Russian. Fr. Popoff had hopes in the beginning, but
changed his attitude in the later years.
27
Certain links were established between Oxford and Mos-
cow, and theological professors and students in Moscow used
to collate Greek manuscripts of the Fathers for the Library of
the Fathers. Nor were the books on Anglicanism which Palmer
Nineteenth Century Ecumenism
239
brought to Russia and presented to the Academy in St.
Petersburg left without use. One of the students was advised
to write his Master's thesis on Anglicanism compared with
Orthodoxy, apparently on the basis of materials supplied by
Palmer.
28
In both countries, Russia and Great Britain, there
were groups earnestly interested in the rapprochement of the
respective Churches. John Mason Neale, by his historical
studies and translations of the Eastern liturgical texts, did
more than anyone for furthering this idea.
In 1851, under the impression of the famous Gorham
case, there was an attempt to approach the Church of Russia
in order to secure recognition of a group of Anglicans con^-
sidering secession from the Established Church. A number
of pamphlets were circulated for this purpose, and subscrip-
tions were invited to a * 'Memorial' ' to be presented to the
Holy Synod of Russia. The initiative seems to have been
taken by somebody in Scotland. Although it was not an
"ecumenical move" in a proper sense, some points in the
project were of importance. The basis of reunion should
include recognition of the Seven Ecumenical Councils, the
Russian Catechism as an outline of doctrine, and repudiation
of Lutheran or Calvinist leanings. Connection with the Rus-
sian Church was expected to be only temporary. Rites and
devotional forms had to be kept, and the English language
used. The Synod was asked to investigate the problem of
Anglican Orders and, in the case of a positive decision (which
was expected), to confirm the respective clergy in their
pastoral commissions. It is difficult to identify the promoters
of the scheme. There were obviously only a few. But it was
an attempt, on the side of those whose confidence in the
established Church had been shaken by the decision of the
Gorham case, to find a solution to their conscientious ob-
jection in a manner less radical than just "secession" to
Roman obedience. The scheme failed, and it is not clear
whether the "Memorial'' was presented at all. In any event,
this was proof of increasing concern, in certain quarters, for
a more intimate connection with the Orthodox East.
29
The "Association for the Promotion of the Unity of
Christendom" was founded in 1857, with the intention of
uniting "in a bond of intercessory prayer" Roman Catholics,
Greeks, and Anglicans. The membership was impressive,
and some Orthodox were included in it. But the whole scheme
collapsed in 1869, after the formal prohibition of participa-
tion by Rome. An Orthodox essay, "by a Priest of the Arch-
diocese of Constantinople," was included in the volume pub-
lished in connection with this venture, by the Rev. F. G. Lee,
D.C.L., with an introduction by Pusey.
30
Russia's defeat in
the Crimean war could not fail to cool its ecclesiastical inter-
course with the Anglicans. Yet, the "Eastern Church Associa-
tion" was created in 1863, by the initiative of John Mason
Neale, and two Orthodox priests were on the list of its stand-
ing committee from the beginning: Fr. Popov and the Greek
Archimandrite, Constantine Stratoulias. The leading Anglican
members were: Neale, George Williams, and H. P. Liddon.
Pusey, as Liddon says, "took great interest in the foundation
of the E. C. Association."
31
Williams was keenly interested
in the venture. He spent several years in Jerusalem, as
chaplain to the Anglican bishop there. His well-known book
on the Non-Jurors in their relations with the East, in which
all documents concerning this important episode of ecu-
menical relations were published (in English) for the first
time, was undoubtedly related to the new ecumenical
endeavor.
31
Neale never had an opportunity to visit the
Eastern countries. But Liddon went to Russia in 1867 (to-
gether with C.L. Dodgson, i.e., "Lewis Caroll"), had an
interview with Philaret (shortly before the latter's death in
the same year), and was deeply impressed by all he saw in
Russia. A "sense of God's presenceof the supernatural
seems to me to penetrate Russian life more completely than
that of any of the Western nations."
33
The Primus of the
Episcopal Church in Scotland, Robert Eden, Bishop of Moray,
Ross and Caithness, visited Russia in 1866 and had a talk
with Metropolitan Philaret, also. His concern was solely
with ' 'Intercommunion," as distinguished from, or even op-
posed to, "Reunion." It was the old idea that the One Church
still continues in the divided "communions/' There should be
a restoration of that "Intercommunion" which existed "be-
tween members of independent Churches in the early days
of Christianity." Prejudices should be removed, and some
mutual understanding between bishops of the different
Churches established. Nothing else was envisaged.
34
It should
be emphasized that interest in the East was clearly con-
nected with a defensive position regarding Rome, which was
quite natural in the days when the Roman Church, only
recently re-established in England, was making steady pro-
gress. The first stimulus for this renewed and revived interest
in the East, however, came from the United States. Initiative
in the negotiations was taken by some members of the
Protestant Episcopal Church in the U.S.A.
VIII
Purchase of Alaska and the Aleutian Islands from Russia
by the United States and the transfer of the Russian episcopal
see from Sitka to San Francisco (in 1861) brought the
Anglican Church in the United States into direct contact
with the Church of Russia. It is curious to find that when,
in the middle of the century, in connection with the gold
rush in California, a considerable number of Anglicans
established themselves there, th question was raised whether
they might not appeal to the Russian bishop on the spot,
rather than to the remote Anglican bishops in the Eastern
States, for aid and authority, and call themselves the Church
of California. However, it seems to have been just a passing
idea of a few clergymen, and no action was taken in this
direction. A regular Anglican diocese was established in
1857.
35
On the other hand, some others viewed the new
situation with apprehension. At the General Convention of
the Episcopal Church in 1862, one of the deputies, Dr. Thrall,
raised this question. Russians in the West had no organized
bishopric at that time. The prospective establishment of an
Orthodox bishopric might bring the two Churches into con-
flict, in respect to jurisdiction. It seemed desirable to nomi-
nate a special committee of inquiry and correspondence, to
present to Orthodox authorities the Protestant Episcopal
Church's claim to be a part of the Church Catholic, and
therefore qualified to assume care of the Russians in the
Pacific area. While the House of Deputies was prepared
to adopt the proposed phrasing, the House of Bishops changed
the terms of reference. A commission was appointed with a
limited authority: "to consider the expediency of com-
munication with the Russo-Greek Church, to collect informa-
tion on the subject/* and to report to the next General Con-
vention. A resolution to this effect was passed by a majority
vote (11 against 8) . Obviously, there was some uncertainty
as to the timeliness of the venture.
38
This commission was
known as a "Russo-Greek Committee."
The decision of the American Convention was almost
immediately followed by some steps in England. It seems
that the main promoters of the cause were the Rev. Dr. John
Freeman Young in America (later Bishop of Florida) and
George Williams in England. The formation of the "Eastern
Church Association" was probably connected with the Amer-
ican initiative too. In any case, in 1863 a petition was pre-
sented to the Upper House of the Convocation of Canterbury,
requesting the Archbishop to appoint a committee which
might communicate with the "Russo-Greek Committee" in
America concerning the question of intercommunion. The
petition was presented to the House by the Bishop of Oxford
(Samuel Wilberforce), and a corresponding motion adopted.
The English committee was not authorized to enter into
direct intercourse with the authorities of the Eastern Church
but merely kept in touch with the Americans. American
delegates stopped in England on their way to the East (Dr.
Young and the Hon. Mr. Ruggles) and conferred with the
British. Some special consultations were held with the Rus-
sian experts, Fr. Popov and Fr. Joseph Vassiliev (the Russian
chaplain in Paris, who was invited especially for this pur-
pose). The problem under discussion was that of inter-
communion, i.e., mutual recognition of both Churches, in-
cluding the recognition of Anglican Orders by the Orthodox.
The general feeling was that the Anglican Church in Amer-
ica was better equipped for the purpose; there was more
inner agreement (probably it was an exaggerated estimate,
as the Church was involved in an inner debate on "tractarian"
principles), more flexibility, and less inhibition by historical
commitments. Therefore it could more easily make those
adjustments (or"concessions") which might be required by
the Orthodox. The situation in England was rather tense and
bishops had to exercise extreme caution. It was clear that
the Eastern Church would be unable to enter into any formal
communion with the Anglicans unless certain changes were
made in Anglican formularies, etc. The Church of England
was hardly in the position to do so. Americans were expected
to go ahead and create a precedent.
37
Dr. Young visited Rus-
sia in 1864 and was received by the Metropolitans of St.
Petersburg (Isidor) and Moscow. He also visited the Moscow
Ecclesiastical Academy (in the Monastery of St. Sergius),
having there a theological discussion on the problem of
reunion. He brought with him commendatory letters from
several bishops in America. The Russian Synod was not
prepared, however, to take any formal steps, but recom-
mended further study of a rather informal nature. Philaret was
favorably disposed, but anticipated misunderstandings among
the laity; bishops and the more learned members would
understand the problem, but (as Young recorded his words)
"the difficulty will be with the people." It was a pertinent
remark: in Philaret's opinion, obviously, "Reunion," or rap-
proachment, could not be enacted simply by an act of hier-
archy, but presupposed also the participation of the body of
believers. He had some difficulty concerning the validity of
Anglican orders (Parker's consecration, etc.). Finally, he
suggested five points for further study. They were as follows:
(1) The Thirty-Nine Articles and their doctrinal position;
(2) the Filioque clause and its place in the Creed; (3)
Apostolic Succession; (4) Holy Tradition; and (5) the
Doctrine of Sacraments, especially the Eucharistie doctrine.
It was decided that an interchange of theological memo-
randa should be arranged between the Russian and Anglican
commissions. Dr. Stubbs was invited to present a statement
on the problem of succession, John M. Neal on the Filioque
clause, etc. At the same time, the common interests of Russia
and America in the Pacific area were stressed, including the
missionary endeavors of both nations. At this point American
delegates favored a plan to establish a Russian bishopric at
San Francisco and also a Russian parish in New York (the
latter was opened in 1870, but closed in 1883). A long
report on these negotiations was presented by the Russo-
Greek Committee to the General Convention in 1865. It
was decided to extend the Commission and empower it to
correspond with the authorities of all Eastern Churches, and
to secure further information. It was clearly asserted, however,
that the Church was not prepared for any other type of
negotiations.
38
The problem was brought to the fore once more in 1868.
Several diocesan conventions suggested a revision of the
Nicene Creed, i.e., in fact, the removal of the Filioque clause
from the Creed. Action to this effect was found inexpedient
and was indefinitely postponed. It should be mentioned at
this point that the problem of the Filioque clause was seriously
discussed in the Anglican theological press in the 'sixties.
An unsigned article appeared on "The Filioque Controversy"
J
in The Christian Remembrancer, in October, 1864. As it
coincides almost completely, as far as the evidence and
comments are concerned, with the "dissertation" on the same
subject in J. M. Neale's History of the Holy Eastern Church
(Part I, General Introduction, v. 2, London, 1850, p. 1095-
1168), one may plausibly guess that it was also written by
Neale. The main conclusion of both the article and the
earlier "dissertation" was that the clause was undoubtedly
an "accretion." Three practical attitudes were envisaged: (a)
to strike the clause out; (b) to retain it, but express regret
at its addition, suggesting that it should be interpreted as
concerning the temporal mission only; or (c) to offer a
suitable commentary on the doctrine concerned. The first
solution seemed to be practically (first of all, psychologically)
impossible; in America, perhaps, it might have been much
easier, especially because the Athanasian Creed was not yet
commonly used in this branch of the Anglican Communion.
But the choice had to be between the second and third solu-
tions. Bishop Pearson was quoted in the conclusion: "The
schism between the Greek and Latin Churches was begun
and continued: never to be ended, till those words, the
Filioque, be taken out of the Creed."
39
Even Pusey, who was,
himself, in full agreement with the clause and by no means
prepared to "strike it out" (see the following section), felt
himself compelled to emphasize that the English Church
"had no share" in the addition and therefore was in a
position to ask that it be allowed "to continue to use the
formula, which, without any act of our own, has been the
expression of our faith immemorially."
40
A comprehensive report on the negotiations was presented
to the General Convention. The prospect seemed to be rather
bright, and no insuperable barriers were discovered. The main
problem was that of Orders. It was suggested that the Rus-
sian Synod might be willing to send delegates to investigate
the problem. Intercommunion had to be interpreted, as stated
by the theological commission of the Canterbury Convocation
in 1867, as "mutual acknowledgement that all Churches
which are one in the possesion of a true episcopate, one in
sacraments, and one in their creed, and are, by this union
in their common Lord, bound to receive one another to full
communion in prayers and sacraments as members of the
same household of Faith." The authority of the Russo-Greek
Committee was then extended to a new period.
41
In the
meantime, the Archbishop of Canterbury approached the
Ecumenical Patriarch requesting him, in compliance with the
recommendation of the Committee on Intercommunion of
the Convocation, to allow Anglicans dying in the East to be
buried in the Orthodox cemeteries and to be given religious
funerals by the Orthodox clergy. A copy of the Common
Prayer Book in Greek translation was appended to the letter.
The Archbishop's request was granted by the Patriarch
(Gregory VI), but at the same time he raised certain dif-
ficulties about the Thirty-Nine Articles.
42
The most interesting episode in the story of the negotia-
tions at that time was connected with the visits of the
Archbishop of Cyclades, Alexander Lycurgos, to England
in 1869 afld 1870. A few years later he was to play a
prominent role at the Reunion Conferences at Bonn. In 1869,
he came to England to consecrate the new Greek Church
at Liverpool, and was congenially entertained by the English
prelates, as well as by some distinguished laymen, such as
Gladstone and others. George Williams acted as his guide
and interpreter. Archbishop Lycurgos' personal theological
position was rather comprehensive (his scholarly background
being German), and in his early years, as Professor at the
University of Athens, he had some difficulties because of his
broad opinions. During his stay in England, a conference
was organized at Ely, at which all points of agreement and
disagreement between the two Communions were systemati-
cally surveyed, the Bishop of Ely being the main Anglican
speaker (assisted by Williams and Canon F. Meyrick). The
only point at which no reconciliation between the two posi-
tions could be reached was precisely the Filioque clause. The
Archbishop insisted on its unconditional removal.
Then followed some other controversial topics: the num-
ber and form of the Sacraments, the doctrine of the Eucharist,
the position of the priesthood and the second marriage of
the bishops, invocation of the saints, prayers for the departed,
the use of ikons and the connected question of the authority
of the Seventh Ecumenical Council. A certain measure of
understanding was reached, but the Archbishop staunchly
defended the Orthodox point of view. He concluded, how-
ever, that, in his opinion, the English Church was "a sound
Catholic Church, very like our own," and that "by friendly
discussion, union between the two Churches may be brought
about." There was no discussion of Doctrine or Orders, and
no attempt was made to clarify the conception of the
prospective "union," or mutual recognition. The Archbishop
favorably reported on his visit and negotiations to the Synod
of Greece.
43
The American General Convention in 1871 took
cognizance of these new developments and decided to con-
tinue the activities of the Russo-Greek Committee:
44
For the
last time, the problem of Intercommunion with the Eastern
Church came before the American Convention iri 1874. By
that time some contacts were established, also, with lesser
Eastern Churches, the Armenian and Coptic. The general
feeling was that further negotiations should be conducted
directly by the hierarchy of the two Churches, and therefore
the Russo-Greek Committee was discontinued.
45
The 1873
Convocation of Canterbury was presented with several sug-
gestions concerning the interpretation of the Filioque clause,
with reference to the proposal of the Royal Commissioners of
1689. No action was taken by the Convocation, either in 1873
or later.
46
At that time, the question of the / Ol d Catholics"
came to the fore in ecumenical discussions and the negotia-
tions between the Anglican communion and the Eastern
Churches temporarily lost their importance. Political troubles
in the East in the late 'seventies also contributed to this
decrease in activity.
IX
The secession of a substantial ."Old Catholic"' group from
Rome, after the Vatican Council (1870), challenged the
Orthodox Church to form an opinion as to the nature and
ecclesiastical status of the new body and as to the attitude
it should take with regard to this "non-conforming" Catholic
minority in the West. The Vatican Council was preceded
by a long period of inner struggle and conflict within the
Roman Church, between the "Ultramontane" and more mode-
rate or "liberal" sections or trends. The non-Roman Christians
in various countries watched this struggle with keen interest,
anxiety and apprehension, sympathy and expectation. The
' 'non-theological factors" played a prominent role in the
development of the ecclesiastical conflict. Ecclesiological at-
titudes had an immediate impact on the ordering of civil
society. The prospective proclamation of Papal infallibility
was felt to be a threat both to the sovereignty of the national
states and to the general cause of freedom. The actual
promulgation of the "new dogma" led to the desperate and
protracted political Kulturkampf in Germany, which had its
reflections in other European countries as well. Already in
an earlier period the new growth of Papal absolutism had
compelled some more liberal Catholics in Germany (and
elsewhere) to look in the direction of the Orthodox East.
In this connection the name of ranz Baader must be men-
tioned once more. His interest in the Eastern Church dates
from early years. In the 'thirties he had to reconsider the
whole problem afresh, in the context of a growing resistance
to the Ultramontane trend of thought and practice. "Catholi-
cism" had been disrupted since the split between the East
and the West, and it was in the East that the true Catholic
position had been retained and continued. The Eastern Church
therefore had much to contribute to the prospective rintgra-
tion of Christian existence. Baader summarized his ideas in
the book: Der Morgenlndische und der Abendlndische
Katholizismus mehr in seinem inner wesentlichen als in
sienem usserlichen Verhltnisse dargestellt (Stuttgart, 1841;
written in 1840). This book has been recently described as
"the greatest ecumenical writing of the XlXth century"
(E. Benz). It would be difficult, however, to determine to
what extent it actually exercised direct influence on wider
circles.
47
In the years immediately preceding the Vatican Council
there was an increasing unrest among the Roman clergy,
especially in France. In 1861, a learned French priest, Abb
Guette, whose History of the Church in France was put on
the Index, joined the Orthodox Church in Paris and was
attached to the Russian Embassy chapel. In cooperation with
the Russian chaplain, Fr. Joseph Vassiliev, who was himself
engaged in the literary struggle with the French Ultra-
montanes, Guette founded a magazine dedicated to the
cause of Reform and Reunion, Union Chrtienne, which for
many years had quite a wide circulation in the West. It was,
in fact, one of the earliest Ecumenical publications. In the
beginning, Guette was interested in Anglican cooperation,
but later became bitterly hostile to them. He regarded the
"return" to the faith and practice of the Early Church and
reunion with the East as the only way out of the Roman
impasse. In a sense, it was an anticipation of the later "Old
Catholic" movement. Eugene Michaud, later editor of the
famous Revue Internationale de Thologie (still continued
as the Intemazionale Kirchliche Zeitschrift), was for a time
associated with Guette, and it was probably from him that
he inherited his sympathy for the Eastern Church.
48
Another name must be mentioned in this connection.
That is, Dr. Joseph J. Overbeck who published in the 'sixties
a number of booklets and pamphlets, in German, Latin, and
English, advocating not only a "return" to Orthodoxy, but
also a re-establishment of the Orthodox Church in the West.
Overbeck (1821-1905) was originally a Roman Catholic
priest and for a time Privat Dozent on the Theological Faculty
at Bonn. During that period he had some connections with
Dllinger. He left the Church and migrated to England,
where he stayed the rest of his life. In 1865, he joined the
Russian community in London, as a layman. But he had a
larger plan in his mind. He anticipated the secession of a
considerable number of clergy and laymen from the Roman
authority in the near future, and was eagerly concerned
with the problem of restoring "Orthodox Catholicism" in the
West. He regarded reunion with the East as the only practical
solution, yet wanted to preserve the Western rite and all
those Western habits and traditions which might be com-
patible with the faith and canons of the Orthodox East.
In fact, it was an ambitious project of "Orthodoxy of the
Western Rite," somewhat parallel to the "Catholicism of the
Eastern Rite."
A formal appeal was presented to the Russian Synod
(and probably to the Ecumenical Patriarchate) in 1869; and
in 1870 and 1871 Overbeck visited Russia. A provisional
draft of the proposed rite was prepared by Overbeck, based
mainly on the Roman Missal, with certain insertions from
the Mozarabic rite. Fr. Eugene Popov heartily commended
the project to the Russian Synod. In principle, the Holy
Synod was prepared to approve the plan, but a final decision
was postponed in connection with the further development
of the Old Catholic movement. The Synod was anxious.to
ascertain whether there were a sufficient number of people
in the West to join the project in question. The scheme was
forwarded to the Ecumenical Patriarch in the same year (or
in 1872), but it was only in 1881 (and after Overbeck's
personal visit to the Phanar) that action was taken. A com-
mittee was appointed to examine the project. It reported
favorably in 1882 and the Patriarch gave his provisional
approval, provided that the other Churches would concur.
It seems that a protest was made by the Synod of the Church
of Greece. The whole project came to nothing and was
formally abandoned by the Russian Synod in 1884, upon the
advice of the new Russian chaplain in London, Fr. Eugene
Smirnov. There was an obvious Utopian element in the scheme,
and it failed to attract any appreciable number of adherents.
And yet it was not just a fantastic dream. The question raised
by Overbeck was pertinent, even if his own answer to it was
confusedly conceived. And probably the vision of Overbeck
was greater than his personal interpretation. It was a vision
of an Urkatholizismus, restored in the West with the help of,
and in communion with, the Catholic Orthodox Church of
the East, which had never been involved in the variations
of the West. Overbeck differed from the main Old Catholic
inovement chiefly in his emphatic stress on the need for a
restored communion with the East in order to make the return
to a pre-Roman Catholicism real. It was unrealistic to dis-
regard the fact of an age-long separation. This was the main
contention of his brief Latin tract: Libellus Invitt onus ad
Clerurn Laicosque Romano-Catholicos qui antiquam Occidentis
Ecclesiam ad pristinam puritatem et gloriam restauratam
videre cupiunt (Halle, 1871). His magazine; The Orthodox
Catholic Review, begun in 1867, cannot be ignored by his-
torians of the idea of "Catholic Reunion." Overbeck's project
was utterly resented by the Anglican partisans of intercom-
munion with the East. It was denounced (by the Chairman
of the Intercommunion Committee of the Convocation of
Canterbury, Dr. Frazer) as "a schismatic proceeding, and
a mere copying of the uncatholic and uncanonical aggressions
of the Church of Rome." It was described as an attempt to set
up "a new Church," with the express object of proselytizing
"within the jurisdiction of the Anglican Episcopate." On
the other hand, Overbeck was suspected by those who could
not separate Catholic Orthodoxy from the Eastern rite. This
was the case with a group of English converts to Orthodoxy,
led by Fr. Timothy Hatherly, who was received in the Ortho-
dox Church in London in 1856by (re) -baptism and or-
dained to the Orthodox priesthood at Constantinople in 1871.
He had a small community at Woolverhampton. His mis-
sionary zeal was denounced to the Patriarch of Constan-
tinople and he was formally prohibited by the Patriarchate
"to prozelytize a single member of the Anglican Church/' as
it would undermine the wider scheme of ecclesiastical reunion.
It was a result of the formal intervention of the Archbishop
of Canterbury at the Phanar. It seems that this disavowal of
Hatherly's intentions was the cause of his joining the Russian
Church. He had no sympathy for Overbeck's plan. He wanted
just an Eastern Orthodoxy, only probably with the use of
English. In Russia, Overbeck's project was heartily supported
by the Chief Procurator of the Holy Synod, Count Dmitry
A. Tolstoy, a staunch opponent of all Roman Claims and the
author of a book on Roman Catholicism in Russia (English
edition, with preface by the Bishop of Moray, etc., 2 vols.,
London, 1874). Tolstoy's interest and sympathy were prob-
ably determined by rather "non-theological" considerations.
So also, was the support of the Old Catholic Church in
Germany by the Governments of Prussia and some other
lands. The whole scheme can be fully understood only in
the context of the intricate historical situation in Europe in
the years preceding and following the Vatican Council. The
ecclesiastical question could not be separated from the poli-
tical, and the "Vatican dogma" itself had obvious "political"
implications.
49
The hope of Reunion was clearly expressed in the Munich
Whitsunday Manifesto of the German "Old Catholic" group
(in the process of formation), June, 1871, and reunion with
the "Greek-Oriental and Russian Church" was mentioned in
Nineteenth Century Ecumenism 25> 3
t he pr ogr am of t he ( fi rst ) Cat hol i c Congress, hel d at Muni ch
i n Sept ember of t he same year ( par a. 3 ) . The purpose, and
t he gui di ng pri nci pl e, of t he new movement was to "r ef or m' '
t he Church i n t he spirit of t he Early Church. An Or t hodox
visitor was present at t he Congress, Professor J. Ossi ni n, of
t he Theol ogi cal Academy at St. Pet ersburg, who was t o pl ay
a pr omi nent rol e i n t he l at er negot i at i ons bet ween t he Or t ho-
dox and Ol d Cat hol i cs. The fol l owi ng Or t hodox visitors also
at t ended t he Congresses at Col ogne ( 1872) , Konst ant z
(1873), and Freiburg i/Br. (1874): Fr. John Janysheff, at
that time Rector of the Theological Academy at Petersburg;
Colonel (later General) Alexander Kireev; and some others
from Greece, including Professor Zikos Rhossis of Athens,
as a "semi-official" representative of the Holy Synod of the
Hellenic Church. A special Commission on Reunion had been
set up by the Second Catholic Congress at Cologne, which
was empowered to establish contacts with existing agencies
for reunion and to study the situation in the Churches. It
included leading theologians of the Old Catholic group: von
Dllinger, Friedrich, Langen, Michaud, von Schulte. In his
lectures on Reunion, delivered at Munich in January and
February of 1872, von Dllinger laid special stress on the
patristic and traditional character of the Eastern Church. "In
general, the Eastern Church has remained where it was when
the two halves of Christendom were still in communion."
Even in the Xllth century the sense of unity was not yet
lost. Separation was stiffened when the West advanced in its
independent development, culminating in the Counter-Refor-
mation. (The Dllinger "Lectures" were published first in
a German periodical, Die Allgemeine Zeitung, and im-
mediately translated into English by H. N. Oxenham, Lectures
on the Reunion of the Churches, London and New York,
1872; separate German edition only in 1888, Nordlingen).
Anglicans, both in England and in the United States, were
keenly interested in the new movement on the Continent
from the very beginning, the "Anglo-Continental Society" be-
ing the main agency of study and contact (Edward Harold
Browne, Bishop of Ely, President, and Canon F. Meyrick,
Secretary).
In Russia the cause of the Old Catholics was sponsored
and promoted by a group of clergy and intellectuals, united
in the "Society of the Friends of Religious Instruction/' St.
Petersburg Branch, under the presidency of the Grand Duke
Constantine (brother of the Emperor, Alexander II). Russian
visitors at the Old Catholic conferences were members and
delegates of this Society, and not official representatives of
the Church. A special commission to carry on negotiations
with the Orthodox was appointed at the Third Old Catholic
Congress at Konstanz, under the chairmanship of Professor
J. Langen. This commission established at once a very close
contact with the Russian group. The main problem under
discussion was that of a doctrinal agreement. An ''Exposition
of the principal differences in the dogmas and liturgy which
distinguish the Western Church from the Eastern Orthodox*'
was prepared by the Russian Society and submitted to the
Old Catholic Commission, early in 1874. It was vividly
discussed by correspondence. Finally, a Reunion Conference
was convened at Bonn, in September 1874. It was an informal
Conference of theologians, not a formal meeting of official
delegates. The historical significance of this Conference was
that for the first time theologians of the two traditions met
for a frank and impartial conference on the basic tenets of
the Catholic faith. An historical method was adopted, and the
"canon" of Vincent of Lrins was used as a criterion: Quod
semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus creditum est.
There was some ambiguity about that criterion. Anglican
representatives insisted that conversation should be restricted
to the doctrine and practice of the Church of the first six
centuries, "and no documents of later date be taken into con-
sideration," as Canon Meyrick put it in one of his letters to
Dollinger. Did not this contention imply an essentially static
conception of the Church and Tradition? Should "universal"
be reduced to 'ancient"? Was not the 'living voice" of the
Church left out, and an academic research substituted for a
spiritual search for truth? Was the truth to be found just in
the ancient texts, and not in the living experience of the
Church ? The first point of divergence was once more the
Filioque clause. After a long debate it was agreed that the
clause was inserted unlawfully and that it was highly de-
sirable to find a way in which the original form of the Creed
could be restored, without compromising the essential truth
expressed in the article (the final draft was suggested by
the Bishop of Winchester, Dr. Browne, formerly of Ely).
Discussion of the doctrine itself was postponed, and a special
theological commission appointed to prepare a report.
On the whole, the findings of the Bonn Conference were
received with satisfaction and hope. The Second Conference
met, at Bonn again, in 1875, and the membership was much
larger. There were about 65 Anglican representatives. The
Orthodox group, also, was much larger and more representa-
tive, including delegates officially appointed by the Ecu-
menical Patriarch, the Church of Roumania, the Church of
Greece, the Metropolitan of Belgrade, et. al. The main prob-
lem was that of reconciliation between the Western and the
Eastern doctrines of the Holy Spirit. After a protracted and
rather strained debate, the Conference finally agreed on a
common statement, based on the teaching of St. John of
Damascus, which could be regarded as a fair summary of
the doctrine commonly held by the East and the West in the
age of the Ecumenical Councils. St. John was always re-
garded as an authority in the West, while at the same time
he was an exponent of the Greek tradition. Some other ques-
tions were raised and discussed, but no decisions taken.
Orthodox delegates hesitated to commit themselves to any
statement on the validity of the Anglican Orders. On the
other hand, they could not agree that invocation of the saints
should be regarded as an optional practice and left to the
private discretion of individual believers or communities.
Anglicans, however, were most apprehensive at this point.
The general feeling was that the Conference succeeded in
providing a basis for agreement on the doctrine of the Holy
Spirit. Unfortunately, it proved to be an unwarranted opti-
mism. It is true that Old Catholics were fully satisfied by
the Bonn theses on this topic. Professor Langen summarized
once more the whole discussion in his book Die Trinitarische
Lehrdifferenz zwischen der abendlndischen und der morgen-
lndischen Kirche (Bonn, 1876). On the Russian side, similar
statements were made by S. Kokhomsky (The Teaching of
the Early Church on the Procession of the Holy Ghost, St.
Petersburg, 1875; and N. M. Bogorodsky The Teaching of
St. John of Damascus on the Procession of the Holy Ghost,
St. Petersburg, 1879; in Russian).
There was agreement between the Orthodox and Old
Catholics. But among Anglicans there was a sharp division.
Some Anglican delegates at Bonn were quite prepared to
omit the Filioque clause from the Creed, and it was stated
that in America an action to this effect was formally requested
by 56 dioceses of the Protestant Episcopal Church. Some
others, however, were staunchly in favor of retaining it, and
were unable to go further than some kind of explanation
concerning the insertion of the clause, etc. After the Con-
ference the latter position was forcefully defended by Pusey.
In general, he had his own misgivings with regard to the Old
Catholic move, and he was at that time especially disappointed
by what he felt to be the "impracticable attitude of the Rus-
sian Church" (as Liddon puts i t ). As early as 1872, he wrote
to Williams: "I think that we are doing mischief to our
own people by accustoming them to the idea of abandoning
the Filioque, and to the Russians by inflating them." He
wanted to keep the Western position intact and even impose
it upon the East. Just before Second Conference at Bonn,
he instructed Liddon: "I do not see any occasion for any
formula in which the Greeks and we should agree. We are
content to let them alone,.. We ask nothing of them, in case
of reunion, but to go on as we are." When he learned that the
Eastern Church Association was petitioning the Convocation
to take the Bonn resolution in consideration, he immediately
intervened with a letter to the Times containing a warning
about "the aggressive line" taken by Russian ecclesiastics and
an argument against communion with the Eastern Church,
"not knowing what consequences it would involve as to our-
selves."
The House of Bishops of the Convocation of Canterbury
approved the Bonn statement, as did the Committee of the
Lower House. It was expected that the Lambeth Conference
of 1878 might remove the clause. For Pusey it was an im-
minent disaster. He summarized his objections in a long tract:
On the clause, "And the Son," in regard to the Eastern
Church and the Bonn Conference. A letter to the Rev. H. P.
Uddon, D.D. (Oxford, 1876). "The loss of the 'and the
Son* would to our untheological English mind involve the
loss of the doctrine of the Trinity," he" contended. He con-
tested the authority of St. John of Damascus, "a writer who
was, I conclude, unacquainted with the early Greek Fathers,
whose language he rejects, and who certainly knew nothing
of our Latin Fathers." One gets the impression that Pusey
was afraid of anything which could be interpreted as a
"concession" to the East. Or, as Canon Meyrick, one of the
Bonn delegates, put it, he was too much interested in the
links with Rome (he corresponded with Newman on the
topic), and wanted to avoid anything that could widen the
chasm between England and Rome. Under these circumstances
the Old Catholics felt it would be unwise to hold a new Con-
ference, which had been provisionally scheduled for 1876.
The other unfavorable factor was that Dr. Overbeck (who
was at Bonn himself) succeeded in creating some embar-
rassment among the Orthodox. He contended that there was
no real unity among the Old Catholics and no leaning to-
ward Orthodoxy (see his book: Die Bonner Unionskonfer-
enzen, oder Altkatholizismus und Anglicanismus in ihrem
Verhltnis zur Orthodoxie. Ein Appellation an die Patriarchen
und heiligen Synoden der Orthodoxen Katholischen Kirche
(Halle, 1876). Overbeck was still much concerned with his
own scheme of an 'Orthodoxy of the Western rite" and did
not sympathize with any other proposed manner of Catholic
rconciliation. An important point was involved here. Some
Orthodox favored an immediate recognition of, and inter-
communion with, the Old Catholics, as an ecclesiastical body
which had preserved the Apostolic Succession and professed
de facto the Orthodox doctrine on all essential points, and
therefore was already {de facto) a unit of the Orthodox
Church, i.e., as it were, a faithful Orthodox "remnant" in the
West, even if it had been temporarily involved in the Roman
schism. There was, then, no need for any special act of
reunion. All that was needed was that the existing unity
should be acknowledged and attested. This point of view
was represented, among the Russians, by A. A. Kireev, Fr.
Janyshev, and Professor Ossinin. On the other side, it could
be argued that, even after their secession from Vatican Rome,
the Old Catholics were still in schism, simply because Rome
had been in schism for centuries, and separation from Rome
in the XlXth century did not mean necessarily a true ''return"
to the undivided Church of the early centuries. Accordingly,
more guarantee was needed and a special act of reconcilia-
tion was inevitable. Unfortunately, the doctrine of the Church
was never discussed at this period of the negotiations, and
the meaning of "reunion" was not properly clarified. Political
complications in the late 'seventies (the growing tension
between England and Russia centered precisely around the
"Eastern question") made theological cooperation between
the Anglicans and Orthodox impossible for a time. Contacts
between the Orthodox and Old Catholics were also lost.
50
They were renewed only after a long interval, after the
formation of the Old Catholic Union (1889) and the Second
International Old Catholic Congress in Lucern (1892). A
new link between the Orthodox and Old Catholic theologians
was established by cooperation in the newly created periodical:
Revue International de Thologie (since 1893).
The Russian Synod appointed, in 1892, a special commit-
tee under the chairmanship of Anthony (Vadkovsky), at that
time Archbishop of Finland (later Metropolitan of St. Peters-
burg and Presiding Member of the Synod). By the end of
the year this committee was ready with a report, which was
approved by the Synod and communicated to the Eastern
Patriarchs. Conclusions were generally in favor of recogni-
tion. This was also the tenor of the book on Old Catholicism
by V. Kerensky, later Professor at the Theological Academy
of Kazan (in Russian, Kazan, 1894). In Greece there was a
sharp division of opinion: Archbishop Nicephoros Kalogeras
of Patras and Professor Diomedes Kyriakos, of the University
of Athens, defended the Old Catholic cause, whereas two
other Professors, Zikos Rhossis and Mesoloras, opposed it
violently. Patriarch Anthimos of Constantinople, replying to
the Reunion Encyclical of Leo XIII, Praeclara gratulationis,
in 1895, cited Old Catholics as defenders of the true faith
in the West. In the meantime, the Third International Con-
gress of Old Catholics at Rotterdam, in 1894, appointed its
own commission to examine the Russian report. Three points
were singled out for further study: the Filioque clause; the
doctrine of transubstantiation; and the validity of Dutch
orders. This time there was division among the Russian
theologians: two Kazan Professors, Gusew and Kerensky,
found the Old Catholic interpretation of the points under
discussion evasive and discordant with the Orthodox posi-
tion; Janyshev and Kireev, on the contrary, were perfectly
satisfied with them. A vigorous polemic ensued.
The most important contribution to the discussion was
an essay by Professor V. V. Bolotov, eminent professor of
Church History at the Academy of St. Petersburg: "Thesen
ber das Filioque' (published in German translation, by
Kireev, without the name of the author, in the Revue Inter-
nationale, in 1898). Bolotov suggested a strict distinction
between (1) dogmas, (2) "Theologoumena," and (3) theo-
logical opinions. He described "Theologoumenon" as a theo-
logical opinion held by those ancient teachers who had
recognized authority in the undivided Church and are re-
garded as "Doctors of the Church/' All "Theologoumena"
should be regarded as permissible, as long as no binding
dogmatic authority is claimed for them. Consequently,
Filioque, for which the authority of St. Augustine can be
quoted^ is a permissible theological opinion, provided it is
not regarded as a credendum de fide. On the other hand,
Bolotov contended that Filioque was not the main reason for
the split between the East and the West. He concluded, that
Filioque, as a private theological opinion, should not be re-
garded as an impedimentum dirimens to the restoration of
intercommunion between the Orthodox and Old Catholic
Churches. It should be added that the Credal clause was
omitted by the Old Catholics in Holland and Switzerland
(and put in parentheses in the liturgical books in Germany
and Austria, to be ultimately omitted also). That is to say
that it was excluded from the formal profession of faith.
At this point in the negotiations the doctrine of the
Church was mentioned for the first time, to the effect that
' Old Catholic" should be regarded as a schism and could
be received into communion with the Orthodox Church only
on the basis of a formal acceptance of the full theological
system of the contemporary Church. This thesis was first
substantiated by Fr. Alexis Maltzev, the Russian chaplain
at Berlin and a distinguished liturgiologist, in 1898, and
then developed by Bishop Sergius (Stragorodsky), at that
time Rector of the Theological Academy of St. Petersburg
(later the second Patriarch of Moscow, after the Russian
Revolution). This contention was strongly opposed by an-
other Russian theologian, Fr. Paul Svetlov, Professor of
Religion in the University of Kiev. Probably, he went too
far. His definition of the Church was too vague and all-
inclusive. In his opinion, the Church was "an invisible or

spiritual unity of believers, scattered in all Christian
Churches," ultimately embracing all who would describe
themselves as Christians. After all, all Christian denomina-
tions coincide in the essential. Differences are not essential
and are usually exaggerated. The Orthodox Church is no
more than a part of the Church Universal, of which the Old
Catholic Church, in its own right, is another part. This radi-
calism could not commend itself to the ecclesiastical author-
ities. Nevertheless, theological conversation was continued,
until the outbreak of World War I, and Orthodox visitors
and observers attended all Old Catholic Congresses. But no
actions were taken.
51
XI
Friendly contacts between Anglican and Eastern Ortho-
dox hierarchs and individuals, especially in the East, were
quite numerous in the 'seventies and 'nineties. They
were openly motivated by certain "non-theological" con-
siderations, and did not perceptibly promote th cause of
reunion or rapprochement. In 1888, the Third Lambeth
Conference adopted an important resolution (17): "This
Conference, rejoicing in the friendly communications which
have passed between the Archbishops of Canterbury, and
other Anglican Bishops, and the Patriarchs of Constantinople
and other Eastern Patriarchs and Bishops, desires to express
its hope that the barriers to fuller communion may be, in
course of time, removed by further intercourse and extended
enlightenment." It seems, however, that the "barriers" were
felt to be formidable, if not insuperable. The Sub-Committee
of the Conference had to mention once again not only the
Filioque clause, but the Eastern insistence on trine immersion
at Baptism, and an inadequate rite of Confirmation. "It would
be difficult for us to enter into more intimate relations with
that Church so long as it retains the use of icons, the invoc-
tion of the Saints, and the cultus of the Blessed Virgin,"
even if the Greeks disclaim the sin of idolatry.
52
In the same year, in connection with the celebration of
the Nine Hundredth Anniversary of the Conversion of Rus-
sia, Archbishop Edward Benson of Canterbury decided to
send an official letter of congratulations and good wishes
to the Metropolitan of Kiev, In the letter he referred to
common foes of the Russian and Anglican Churches, obvi-
ously meaning Rome, and to the unity in the Faith of the
Gospel, as expounded by the Ecumenical Councils of the
Undivided Church. This move was suggested to the Arch-
bishop by a group of churchmen interested in Oriental Chris-
tendom, and probably the East's antagonism against Roman
claims commended its Church to the Archbishop. In his reply,
Metropolitan Platon unexpectedly raised the question of a
formal reunion. "If you also, as appears from your letter,
desire that we may be one with you in the bonds of the
Gospel, I beg you to communicate to me distinctly and defi-
nitely upon what conditions you consider the union of your
and our Churches would be possible.'* The aged Metropolitan
wrote on his own behalf, and yet it is improbable that he
would have raised such an important problem, without the
advice of people in authority. It is true, however, that Metro-
politan Platon had a rather broad view of the Church's
unity and on one occasion publicly stated that "the walls of
partition did not reach Heaven." Archbishop Benson replied
in the name of the Bishops of England and made two points.
''First and above all, the drawing together of the hearts of
th individuals composing the two Churches which would
fain 'be at one together'. Secondly, a more or less formal
acceptance of each other's position with toleration for any
point of difference: non-interference with each other upon
any such point." The first point amounted to the authoriza-
tion of intercommunion, and in the second recognition of
the Anglican Orders was implied. No action was taken by
the Russian Church on this proposal. From the Orthodox
point of view, of course, the real problem was not that of
mutual "toleration" or "non-interference," but that of agree-
ment.
Nevertheless, in the next decade official contacts between
the Church of England and the Church of Russia were
strengthened and multiplied. Bishop Creighton of Peter-
borough (later of London) attended the Coronation of Em-
peror Nicolas II in 1896, as an official envoy of the Church of
England, and Archbishop Maclagan of York visited Russia
in the following year. Both prelates were accompanied by
Mr. W. J. Birkbeck, a layman of wide erudition and pro-
found piety, very well acquainted with Russian history and
life. The English bishops were given a hearty welcome by the
Church authorities, but no official negotiations were initiated
and there was no discussion on Faith and Order. In 1898,
Archbishop Anthony (Vadkovsky) of Finland went to Eng-
land to represent the Russian Church at the Diamond Jubilee
of Queen Victoria. These visits belong rather to the history
of attempts to promote "the friendship between nations
through Churches" than to the history of Christian Reunion.
Queen Victoria is reported to have said that the drawing
together of the two Churches was "the only sure way" for
bringing together the two nations. One should npt forget,
however, that the official policy of Great Britain at that
time was not in favor of Russia, and therefore all these
ecclesiastical overtures surely were not directly inspired by
politicians.
There was, however, one feature in the general situation
which could not fail to bring the Church of England a bit
closer together precisely at this very moment. Discussion of
the Anglican Orders in Rome in the middle 'nineties and
the final repudiation of their validity by the Pope in 1896
(the Bull "Apostolicae curae") were followed in Russia with
keen interest, and the "Responsio" of the English Archbishops
was accepted with satisfaction. Copies of this "Response"
were officially communicated to all Russian bishops (and
probably to all Orthodox bishops in various countries of the
East). It is interesting to observe that the reply of Roman-
Catholic bishops in England to the epistle of the Anglican
Archbishops was also forwarded officially to all Orthodox
bishops by Cardinal Vaughan, with a covering letter, in which
the Cardinal expressed his awareness that the Orthodox were
as solicitous in guarding the true doctrine of Priesthood and
Sacraments as the Church of Rome. One gets an impression
that both partners in the dispute were seriously interested in
the stand which the Orthodox Church would take in the
controversy. In any case, she did not join Rome in its blunt
rejection of Anglican Orders as ' 'utterly null and void," indi-
cating thereby that a favorable solution of the problem, from
the Orthodox point of view, was not excluded. It was quite
natural that at this very moment an inquiry into the Validity
of Anglican Orders should be initiated in Russia, if in an
unofficial way. "An Enquiry into the Hierarchy of the
Anglican Episcopal Church" was published (in Russian) by
Professor V. A. Sokolov, of Moscow Theological Academy.
It included a critical analysis of the Papal Bull, and th
author concluded with the suggestion that Anglican Orders
could be recognized by the Orthodox. Professor Sokolov was
awarded a D.D. degree for his thesis and was confirmed by
the Holy Synod, though the Synod made it clear that an
approval of a theological thesis did not necessarily imply an
endorsement of the author's conclusions. Another Russian
scholar, Professor Athanasius Bulgakov, of Kiev Theological
Academy, reached the same conclusions. Both tracts were
translated into English and published by the Church Historical
Society (presided over at that time by Bishop Creighton).
By the end of the century, the Church of England was
once more involved in a controversy over "Ritualism," and
the time was not favorable for negotiations with the East.
84
Nevertheless, the Fourth Lambeth Conference (1897) recon-
firmed the desire to establish closer relations with the
Churches of the East, and empowered the two English Arch-
bishops together with the Bishop of London to act as a
Committee for that purpose, with the right of cooption. It
was desirable to ascertain to what extent the interest in and
desire for a rapprochement with the Anglican Communion,
expressed by not a few individuals among the Orthodox
Prelates, was actually shared by the ruling authorities of the
Orthodox Churches themselves.
55
In 1898, Bishop John Words-
worth of Salisbury went to the East and visited the Ecumenical
Patriarch (Constantine V) . "Friendly relationship" [epikoi-
nenia] between the two Communions was initiated, and a
direct correspondence between the Phanar and Lambeth
Palace established. A special commission was created at Conr
stantinople in order to survey the doctrinal position of the
Anglican Church, and an Anglican representative, Arch-
deacon Dowling, was invited to participate. An explanatory
pamphlet was published by Bishop Wordsworth, with the
approval of the Archbishop of Canterbury in 1900, and im-
mediately translated into Russian and Greek: Some points
in the Teaching of the Church of England, set forth for the
information of Orthodox Christians of the East in the form
of an answer to questions (S.P.C.K., London, 1900; 2nd
edition, in Greek and English, 1901). It was a semi-official
statement.
56
In 1902, the new Ecumenical Patriarch, Joachim III,
formally invited all autocephalous Orthodox Churches to
express their opinions on relations with other Christian bodies.
The Russian Synod replied with an elaborate epistle. The
Synod was inclined to consider the baptism conferred outside
of the Orthodox Church as valid, respecting the sincerity of
belief in the Holy Trinity, and to consider the Apostolic
Succession in the Latin Church as preserved. With regard to
the Anglican Church, the Synod felt that, first of all, "it was
indispensable that the desire for union with the Eastern
Orthodox Church should become the sincere desire not only
of a certain fraction of Anglicanism, but of the whole
Anglican community, that the other purely Calvinistic current
which in essence rejects the Church, as we understand her,
and whose attitude towards Orthodoxy is one of particular
intolerance, should be absorbed in the above-mentioned pure
current, and should lose its perceptible, if we may not say
exclusive, influence upon the Church policy and in general
upon the whole Church life of this Confession which, in the
main, is exempt from enmity towards us." All charity should
be extended to the Anglicans "but at the same time a firm
profession of the truth of our Ecumenical Church as the one
guardian of the inheritance of Christ and the one saving ark
of Divine grace*' should also be included. The language was
rather stern and harsh, but, as Birkbeck (who translated
the "Epistle" for The Guardian} commented, sufficiently
justified by what the Orthodox could infer from events which
took place in England in the years immediately preceding.
57
In the same year, obviously at the invitation of the Ecu-
menical Patriarchate, Chrestos Androutsos, the distinguished
Professor of Dogmatics in the University of Athens, published
his great essay on "The Validity of English Ordinations,
from an Orthodox-Catholic point of view" (1903; English
translation, 1909).
He made two preliminary points. First, Intercommunion
cannot be separated from Dogmatic Union. Secondly, it was
impossible to discuss the Validity of Orders of any body
separated from the true Church, and no statement can be
made on them. Consequently, the only question that could
be profitably discussed by Orthodox theologians was a prac-
tical one: what attitude should the Orthodox Church adopt
in the case of reception of individual Anglican clerics in the
Church ? The external, i.e. ritual, aspect of the Anglican
Ordinations could be regarded as adequate. There was, how-
ever, some uncertainty as to the purpose of these rites, as
the Anglican doctrine of Ministry seemed to be rather
ambiguous, if judged by Orthodox standards. Yet, on the
condition that this ambiguity be removed by a formal declara-
tion of the Church, there was a possibility of accepting the
Nineteenth Century Ecumenism 26l
Orders of those Anglican priests who were ready to join the
Orthodox Church as valid. The prerequisite of such an action
was that the Church of England should accept, in a formal
way, the doctrine of the ancient Church "as a sure founda-
tion and as an unquestionable principle/' and make it clear
that *'Articles of faith" have authority and should be held
only insofar as they actually agree with the ancient doctrines.
No doubt, it was a document of momentous importance. As
a matter of fact, it has been ever since, and still is, the basis
of the ecumenical policy of the Greek Church. There are
good reasons to believe that * 'Professor Androutsos was
speaking as the mouthpiece of the then Ecumenical Patriarch/'
and his essay was a kind of invitation extended to the
Anglican Church.
58
The underlying idea was in no sense new.
It had already been expressed, in a more theological manner,
by Khomiakov. There was no question of reunion in any
proper sense of the word. There was no invitation to a
corporate "healing of the schism" either. The problem was
shifted from the plane of theology to that of canon law, or
pastoral discretion. What was new was the use of a new
terminology. For the first time, the conception of "economy"
was applied to ecumenical relations. This conception has
never been properly defined, nor elaborated. Its meaning was
nevertheless quite clear: instead of a principal solution some
occasional practical arrangements were substituted.
The theological problem was left unsolved, or rather its
existence was simply denied. It was assumed that the Ortho-
dox Church simply could not say anything about the ec-
clesiastical status of the separated bodies, as they had none.
At this point there was an obvious difference between the
Greek approach and that of the Russian Church. It has been
suggested that "Russian theologians retained more traces of
the influences of those scholastic methods which infiltrated
the Eastern-Orthodox Churches in the seventeenth century,"
and moved "in a world apart from the main tradition,"
59
It should not be forgotten, however, that "infiltrations" are
found precisely in th Greek documents (such as "Confessio
Dosithei" or the "Orthodox Confession'' of Peter Mogila,
which was carefully edited by Greek theologians), and Rus-
sian theology of the XlXth century strongly resisted these
"scholastic methods*'in any case so did Metropolitan
Philaret. But Russian theologians would not dispense with
the theological, i.e. ecciesiological, problem as suchy as dif-
ficult and, in the last resort, ''antinomical'' as it might be.
The problem of Unity was for them essentially a theological,
and not primarily a canonical problem. No action was taken
in the Anglican Church at the time with regard to the
Androutsos "invitation." "The chill which fell on the few
workers for reunion, left after the Bonn blunder and fiasco,
was still prevalent."
60
A petition to remove the Filioque
clause from the Creed was presented through Bishop Words-
worth to the Convocation of Canterbury in 1902, and the
Nicene Churchmen Union requested the same in 1904.
61
The
Fifth Lambeth Conference (1908) requested the Archbishop
of Canterbury to appoint a permanent Committee to deal with
the relations of the Anglican Communion and the Orthodox
East (which was actually done) and suggested that certain
forms of Intercommunion could be enacted at once (e.g., in
the cases of emergency).
62
No action was taken. A new
stimulus was given from the United States, where the Ortho-
dox Church (at that time under the jurisdiction of the Rus-
sian Synod) had been for a considerable time in friendly
touch with the Episcopal Church.
Bishop Graftori, of Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, U.S.A.,
decided to visit Russia and to raise with the Holy Synod
some basic theological questions concerning reunion and
recognition. Bishop Grafton (1830-1912) was a staunch
"high-churchman" and a "ritualist." In his early years he spent
five years in England, was closely associated with Dr. Pusey
and Fr. Benson, and for a time worked at St. Peter's, London
Docks, and at Shoreditch Hospital. He was one of the first
members of the Community at Cowley (S.S.J.E.), and was
active in the organization of the American branch of this
Society. Graf ton's visit to Russia was his personal move; he
had no formal commission from his Church, though he was
given an official letter of introduction by the Presiding
Bishop (Dr. Th. M. Clark, Bishop of Rhode Island). Bishop
Graf ton was accompanied on his trip by Mr. Birkbeck. He
presented to Metropolitan Anthony (Vadkovsky), the Pre-
siding Member of the Synod at the time, a memorandum
explaining the Catholic character of Anglican beliefs and
orders, and had several conversations with theologians, in-
cluding the great Fr. John of Kronstadt and General Kireev.
It was on the basis of materials presented by Bishop Graf ton
that some years later Professor Kerensky could state a far-
reaching agreement in doctrine between the Anglican and
the Orthodox Churches.
63
In 1904, Archbishop Tikhon of North America, later the
first Patriarch of Moscow after the restoration of the Rus-
sian Patriarchate in 1917, formally requested the Holy Synod
to make an official statement on the procedure to be used
in the case of reception of Anglican clerics in the Orthodox
Church (a question similar to that discussed by Androutsos).
In particular, he wanted to know whether it was permissible
to allow them to continue the use of the Common Prayer
Book for services. A special Commission was appointed by
the Holy Synod which presented a detailed Report, analyzing
the offices of the C.P.B. The conclusion was that the offices
were rather "colorless and indefinite' * with regard to their
doctrinal content, and therefore, in case they should be used
"in Orthodox parishes, composed of former Anglicans,"
certain corrections and additions must be made in the text, in
order to bring it into agreement with Orthodox doctrine.
This adaptation, however, was left to the local authorities
of the Church in America. Concerning the reception of Angli-
can clergy, the Commission recommended, "pending a final
judgment" of the Church, "a new conditional ordination."
64
In spite of the obvious failure of these official and semi-
official negotiations, friendly intercourse between the
Churches continued. ' The Eastern Church Association" in
England was reorganized in 1893 and was quite active in
the late nineties. Dr. A. C. Headlam, the future Bishop of
Gloucester and prominent leader in the later "Faith and
Order Movement," Dr. Popham Blyth, Bishop in Jerusalem,
and a group of distinguished laymen, such as W. J. Birkbeck,
Athelstan Riley, et. al. were at that time promoters of the
cause of rapprochement.
In 1906, a new Society was inaugurated, by joint initiative
of Orthodox and Anglican groups, "The Anglican and
Eastern-Orthodox Churches Union," and its American Branch
was organized in 1908. The Union had its own periodical,
Eirene (1908-1914). For a short period before the outbreak
of World War I the new "Union" was very active in various
fields. A special Committee was created, under the chairman-
ship of Bishop Blyth, to organize the training of Orthodox
clergy for work in the English-speaking colonies in Anglican
theological schools. The project was preliminarily approved
by the Ecumenical Patriarch and Metropolitan of Athens.
Some links were established with the Orthodox Mission in
Japan. In Russia the new venture was supported by Arch-
bishop Agathangel, at that time of Riga, later of Jaroslavl.
The American Branch was also very active. Once more the
problem of a partial Intercommunion had been raised, i.e.,
of Anglican ministration to the Orthodox in the absence of
the Orthodox clergy, and vice versa. Some local Orthodox
bishops were willing to agree to that proposal, and it was
done, e.g., by Bishop Raphael of Brooklyn, N. Y., the Syrian
suffragan of the (Russian) Archbishop of North America, in
1910; he repudiated his own action in 1911 and withdrew
from the "Union."
65
In 1912 a Russian "Society of the Friends
of the Anglican Church" was inaugurated in St. Petersburg.
The first President was Eulogius, at that time Archbishop
of Volynia and Member of the Governamental Duma, and
later Metropolitan of the Russian Church in Western Europe
Nineteenth Century Ecumenism " 2 7 1
and Exarch of the Ecumenical Patriarch. He was succeeded
by Sergius, Archbishop of Finland, and later Patriarch of
Moscow. The Statutes of the Society were approved by the
Holy Synod. A Branch of the Society was organized in the
U.S.A.
By invitation of this Society, a group of Anglican bishops
and clergy joined the Parliamentary delegation of Great
Britain to Russia (the ''Speaker's delegation") in 1912. Four
bishops participated (Eden of Wakefield, Robertson of Exeter,
Williams of Bangor, and Bernard of Ossory). Two series of
lectures (on the "Life of the Anglican Church") were orga-
nized, at St. Petersburg and Moscow, delivered by Dr. Walter
H. Frre, C.R., the future Bishop of Truro and the first
President of the Fellowship of St. Sergius and St. Alban,
and by Fr. F. W. Puller, S.S.J.E. Fr. Puller's lectures were
published (in English and Russian)The Continuity of the
Church of England (Longmans, 1912). It was an impressive
vindication of the Catholic claims of the Anglican Com-
munion. During his visit, Fr. Puller had several theological
conversations with the Orthodox, of which he speaks in the
Preface to his book. The question of the Filioque had been
surveyed once more, with the result that on this point there
was in principle no disagreement between the two Churches.
Puller attributed this *'change of attitude" on the Russian
side "to the influence of the great Russian theologian,
Bolotov." The World War interrupted the work of the
Society. It should be mentioned that in 1914 two British
organizations, "The Eastern Church Association" and "The
Anglican and Eastern-Orthodox Churches Union," were fused
together, under the name of "The Anglican and Eastern
Churches Association" (which still continues). Even on the
eve of the Revolution the Russian Society was meeting, and
at the last meeting, in 1917, Archbishop Sergius "delivered
a most beautiful address on the similarity and differences
in the course of history, between the Eastern and Anglican
Churches, and on the promising aspects of the Anglican
Church." It must be added that the great All-Russian Church
Council of I917-I9I8, in its very last meeting (September
20, 1918), passed the following resolution, upon the proposal
of the Section on the Union of the Christian Churches (Arch-
bishop Eudokim, of North America, chairman) : "The Sacred
Council of the Orthodox Russian Church, gladly seeing the
sincere efforts of the Old Catholics and Anglicans towards
union with the Orthodox Church on the foundation of the
doctrine and tradition of the Ancient Catholic Church, bestows
its benediction on the labors and efforts of those who are
seeking the way towards union with the above-named friendly
Churches. The Council authorizes the Sacred Synod to orga-
nize a Permanent Commission with departments in Russia
and abroad for the further study of Old Catholic and Angli-
can obstacles in the way of union, and for the furtherance,
as much as possible, of the speedy attainment of the final
aim." No Commission could be organized in Russia at that
time, but the work of Russian theologians in Western Europe
in the ecumenical field was in line with the desire and
commendation of the Council.
66
XII
Negotiations with the Old Catholics and Anglicans re-
vealed a serious divergence of opinions among the Orthodox
theologians themselves, and these internal polemics were
sometimes very heated. On the other hand, discussions were
often confined to one form or another of ecclesiastical agree-
ment. There was no deeper experience of unity, and both
sides were mainly engaged in the defence of their respective
historical traditions, Western or Eastern, in spite of all per-
sistent references to the "Undivided Church/' The spiritual
and psychological barriers between the East and the West
were not yet broken, and for that reason very few indeed
were prepared to go beyond mere schemes and projects.
Christian unity implies two things: unity in faith or doctrine,
and unity in the life of the Church, i.e., in sacraments and
worship. In the first period of the Ecumenical conversation
between the East and the West, attention was given mainly
to the first aspect, which led to the disappointing discovery
that there was a difference indeed, and a difference of such
character as to make agreement hardly possible. The Filioque,
the doctrine of the Eucharist, the invocation of saints, Mari-
ology, prayers for the departed,on all these points no con-
cession could be made by the Orthodox, although a clear
distinction had to be made between a binding doctrine and
theological interpretation. This distinction is not easy to
make in practice. Unnecessary impediments were sometimes
created by intransigeance on either side. Nevertheless, the
real difficulty was rooted in the basic fact that the Orthodox
East abides by tradition and retains the whole Patristic deposit.
The recovery of this Patristic Tradition in the West would
have helped the mutual understanding.
In the later period of discussion, the whole ecclesiological
problem was brought to the fore. The main issue was: what
was the Church Universal? and in what sense do "schisms"
belong to the Church? Various answers were given, or often
simply taken for granted in advance. Unity of belief does
not by itself constitute the corporate reality of the Church,
since the Church is a Divine institution. The "Branch-theory"
of the Church was obviously unacceptable to the Orthodox.
In any case, it minimizes the tragedy of disruption. Again,
a schism is not just a human separation: it violates the basic
structure of Christian existence. The only alternative available
for Orthodox theologians seemed to be this: either separated
bodies did not belong to the Church at all, and therefore
were, not only historically but also spiritually, outside of it;
or they were still, in a certain sense and under special condi-
tions, related to the Church existentially. The latter con-
ception is characteristic of Roman Catholicism, and goes back
to St. Augustine; for that very reason many Orthodox would
hesitate to accept it. It was, however, held by many Russian
theologians, if not quite in the same sense (Philaret; Kireev;
Svetlov). Accordingly, the Sacraments were not necessarily
reiterated for the non-Orthodox, in the case of conversion,
but were understood as having some real charismatic signifi-
cance even outside of the strict canonical boundaries of the
Church. This has been the common practice of the Russian
Church in the last centuries. On the other hand, this practice
could be interpreted in the light of the theory of "Economy"
which is characteristic of modern Greek theology; in this
case, the fact of non-reiteration would not imply any recogni-
tion of these non-Orthodox ministrations, and should be
interpreted simply as a pastoral dispensation, This point of
view had already been represented in Russia by ,
and in recent times was elaborated with daring radicalism
by the late Metropolitan Anthony (Khrapovitsky). He had
an occasion to express this view in an ecumenical context,
when he was invited to participate in the ''Conference on
Faith and Order/* in 1914. The delegation of the Planning
Committee in the U.S., appointed in 1914, could not go
because of the war but invitations were sent to all Orthodox
Cht|iches. In Russia, they were favorably received in high
ecclesiastical quarters and some epistolary contacts were
established.
Anthony, at that time Archbishop of Kharkov and a
permanent Member of the Holy Synod, replied to the invita-
tion with a long letter, in which he frankly stated his point
of view. There was no spiritual reality, "no Grace," outside
the Orthodox Church. All talks about "validity" are just
"talmudist sophistries." What is outside of the Orthodox
Church is just "this World, foreign to Christ's redemption
and possessed by the Devil." It makes no difference, Anthony
argued, whether the non-Orthodox have or do not have
"right beliefs." Purity of doctrine would not incorporate
them in the Church. What is of importance is only the actual
membership in the Orthodox Church, which is not com-
Nineteenth CenturyEcumenism 275
promised by doctrinal ignorance or moral frailty. "Doctrinal
agreement" by itself means little. Membership in the Body
is the only thing that counts. But, in spite of this global
exclusion of all non-Orthodox from Christendom, Anthony
was wholeheartedly in favor of Orthodox participation in
the proposed * Conference on Faith and Order." "Indeed, we
are not going to con-celebrate there, but shall have to search
together for a true teaching on the controversial points of
faith." An exchange of letters with Robert Gardiner, the
secretary of the organizing commission, followed, in which
the whole problem was thoroughly discussed. Another Rus-
sian theologian, Hilarion (Troitsky), at that time Professor
of the Moscow Theological Academy, and later Archbishop
of Krutitzy, published an "open letter" to Robert Gardiner,
"The Unity of the Church and the Universal Christian Con-
ference," in which he developed the same radical conception:
Separation is infinitely more important than Dissent. This
interpretation of unity and schism was by no means com-
monly accepted, and was exposed to serious objections. In
any case, there was no unanimity among Orthodox theologians
on this basic problem of "ecumenical theology." The docu-
ments just quoted belong to the later period, and, strictly
speaking, are outside the scope of the present survey. Yet
they summarize authentically the view which has been held
and promoted by not a few in the course of XlXth century
ecumenical negotiations.
67
This survey would be incomplete, if we omitted the name
of Vladimir Soloviev (1853-1900). Soloviev was never
interested in the ecumenical problem, insofar as it concerned
the search for unity between the Orthodox and the world of
the Reformation. His attitude towards the Reformation and
Protestantism always tended to be negative, even if in his
later years he would speak occasionally of a "super-confes-
sional" Christianity, and a "Religion of the Holy Spirit."
He was openly hostile to the Old Catholic Movement. Never-
theless his contribution to the discussion on Christian unity
276 Aspects^ of Church History
was momentous. ' The broken Unity" of Christendom, "the
Great Controversy," i.e., the "Separation of the Churches,"
were in his opinion the main fact and the main tragedy of
Christian existence. The reunion of Christendom was, for
him, therefore, not merely one special and particular problem
of theology and of Christian action, but precisely the problem
of Christian life and history. Soloviev was mainly concerned
with the question of reconciliation between the East and
Rome, and in a sense he was pleading for a very particular
kind of "Unia." In fact, he simply did not believe that
"Churches" were separated. There was an historical estrange-
ment, an external break, but, in an ultimate sense, there was
still One, (mystically) Undivided Catholic Church.
Soloviev's practical plans were utterly Utopian. He
dreamed of an alliance between a supreme pontiff and an
universal emperor, i.e., between Rome and the Russian Em-
pire. He was much less interested in the theological re-
integration of the separated traditions. His ecclesiological
thought was strongly influenced by Roman theology. He was
ready to vindicate the whole doctrinal growth of Roman
doctrine, by means of an elaborate doctrine of dogmatic
development. His schemes of union were violently criticized
by Russian theologians; there was much substance and justice
in these criticisms. But critics should not have missed the
very point which Soloviev was trying to establish, even if in
an unfortunate manner. He was right in his basic vision:
the Church is essentially One, and therefore cannot be divided.
Either Rome is no Church at all, or Rome and the East are
somehow but One Church, and separation exists only on
the historical surface. This thesis can be interpreted in a
limited sense, i.e., as including only Rome and Eastern
Orthodoxy. But it could be re-interpreted in a wider sense,
and, in that case, we would have an important and truly
ecumenical plea. The merit of Soloviev was precisely that
he tried to clarify the presuppositions that underly the
Catholic doctrine of the Church. His negative attitude to
Protestantism was to a great extent the result of the limita-
tions of his age: he had in view chiefly the liberal Protestant-
ism of the XlXth century, characterized by an etiolated
doctrine and a complete lack of any Church-consciousness.
His ultimate "Ecumenical" vision, so vividly presented in his
"Story of the Antichrist/' included the whole of Christendom,
and fullness of Christian tradition: the spiritual insight of
the Orthodox East, the authority of Rome, and the intellectual
honesty of Protestantism. But this unity transcends history.*
8
The true legacy of Soloviev is not his "Romanism," and of
course not his Utopian, theocratic dream, but his acute sense
of Christian unity, of the common history and destiny of
Christendom, his firm conviction that Christianity is the
Church. It was a true ecumenical vision, as fantastic and
dreamy, offensive and repelling, as his union plans and
invectives had been. Soloviev's was the challenge. An earnest
endeavor at an inclusive Catholic rintgration would be the
answer. It would take us beyond all schemes of agreement.
The issues which have been discussed time and again in the
abortive ecumenical negotiations of the last centuries, and
of the preceding ones, are still burning. It is necessary to
realize the nature and the scope of those questions which
the Orthodox were bound to have asked, and are going to
ask again and again, in order to understand and interpret
the meaning of the ecumenical encounter between the Ortho-
dox East and the West at large.
IV
NOTES AND REFERENS
Notes and References
PATRISTIC THEOLOGY AND THE ETHOS
OF THE ORTHODOX CHURCH
X
F. Kattenbusch, "Kritische Studien zur Symbolik im Anschluss an einige
neuere Werke," in Theologische Studien und Kritiken, Jg. 51, 1878, ss. 94-121
and 179-253. Kattenbusch deals with Gass in the first part of his article.
a
F. Kattenbusch, Lehrbuch der Vergleichenden Confessionskunde. Erster
Band: Prolegomena und Erster Teil: Die Orthodoxe Anatoli s ehe Kirche
(Freiburg i/Br. 1892; the only volume published).
Nicholas N. Glubokovsky, Orthodoxy in Its Essence, in "The Constructive
Quarterly," June 1913, p. 296-297.
*W. Gass, "Zur Symbolik der Griechischen Kirche," in Zeitschrift fr
Kirchengeschichte, Bd. III, 1879, ss. 329-357.
5
Cf. Ernst Benz, Die Ostkirche im Lichte der Protestantischen Geschichts-
schreibung von der Reformation bis zur Gegenwart (Mnchen, 1952), ss. 195-
201, 206-217.
e
Louis Bouyer, Le renouveau des tudes patristiques, in "La Vie Intel-
lectuelle." Fvrier 1947, . 18.
7
Mabillon, in the Preface to Bernard's Opera, . 23, Migne, P. L.,
CLXXXII, c. 26, quoted recently in the Encyclical of Pope Pius XII, Doctor
Mellifluus (1953); English translation of the Encyclical in Thomas Merton,
The Last of the Fathers, N. Y., 1954.
8
L. Thomassin, Dogmata theologica, vol. I, Praefatio, p. XX.
s
Kabasilas' treatises are reprinted in Migne, P. G., t. CL. Cf. M. Lot-
Borodine, Un matre de la spiritualit byzantine au XIV
e
sicle: Nicolas
281
Cabasilas (Paris, 1958); on the Jesus Prayer see La Prire de Jsus, par un
moine de l'glise d'Orient (ditions de Chevetogne, 1951), and also E.
Behr-Sigel, "La Prire Jsus, ou le Mystre de la spiritualit monastique
orthodoxe," in Dieu Vivant, No. 8 (1947), pp. 69-94.
10
L. A. Zander, The Problems of EcumenismPaper prepared for the
Study Department of the WCC, not yet published, but distributed in a
mimeographed form.
Notes and References 283
ST. ATHANASIUS' CONCEPT OF CREATION
1
See, e.g., J . Baudry, Le Problme de VOrigine et de l'ternit du Monde
dans la Philosophie grecque de Platon l're chrtienne (Paris 1931), and
also J acques Chevalier, La Notion du Ncessaire chez Aristote et chez ses
prdcesseurs (Paris 1915). Cf. my article, "The Idea of Creation in Christian
Philosophy," in the Eastern Churches Quarterly 8, 1949, Supplementary
issue: "Nature and Grace."
2
Etienne Gilson, God and Philosophy (Yale University Press 1941), p. 88.
s
Etienne Gilson, L'Esprit de la Philosophie Mdivale, Deuxime dition
revue (Paris 1944), p. 82, n. 1.
4
St. Justin's Dialogue with Trypho, c 5 and 6. See my Ingersoll lecture
for 1950-1951, "The Resurrection of Life," in the Bulletin of Harvard Divinity
School; cf. J . Lebreton, Histoire du Dogme de la Trinit, t. II (Paris 1928.,
p. 635 ff.
5
G. L. Prestige, God in Patristic Thought (S.P.C.K., 1952 [1936]), p. 123.
6
V. V. Bolotov, Origen's Doctrine of Holy Trinity (St. Petersburg, 1879
[in Russian]), p. 380-381. It is still the best exposition of Origen's
Trinitarian doctrine, at no point superseded by later research. One may add
only H. Crouzel, Thologie de l'Image de Dieu chez Origne (Paris 1956).
7
J. N. D. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds (London 1950), . 137. Cf. also
the comments of Antonio Orbe, S. J., Hacia la primera teologia de la
procesion del Ver bo (Rome 1958 [Estudios Valentinianos], vol. I/I),
p. 169, n. 14.
8
Cf. the exposition of Pre Jean Danilou in his recent course at the
Institut Catholique in Paris: Le III
me
Sicle: Clment et Origne, Notes
prises au Cours par les lves, p. 148-154.
9
Cf. Orbe, p. 77, 176 ss.
10
Cf. Orbe, p. 165 ss. and especially the summary, p. 185: 'Origenes
discurre siempre vinculando la Subiduria personal de Dios al mundo
(inteligible, quiz tambin sensible). La generacion del Verbo, que
hubiera en absoluto bastado a explicar el misterio de la prehistoria del
mundo, no adquiere autonomia propia. De seguro su coeternidad con el
Padre se halla en Origenes mejor definida que en ninguno de sus
contemporneos ; pero las multiples coordenadas que de diversos puntos
traza el Alejandrino para dfinir igualmente la eternidad del mundo,
comprometen las fronteras entre la necesidad de la generacion natural del
Verbo y la libertad de la generacion intencional del mundo en El. Los limites
entre la Paternidad y la Omnipotencia na aparecen claros en el Alejandrino."
See also P. Aloysius Lieske, Die Theologie der Logosmystik bei Origenes
(Mnster i/W. 1938), p. 162-208, and Endre v. Ivnka, Hellenisches und
284 Aspe as of Church History
Christliches im jrhbyzantinischen Geisteslehen (Wien 1948), p. 24-27
and passim.
"Cf. Crouzel, p. 98ss.
12
See Orbe, p. 674ss., and especially the section: "Origenes y los Arrianos."
iS
Cf. Crouzel, p. 90ss.
14
Cf. Ernst Benz, Marins Victorinus und die Entwicklung der abend-
lndischen Willensmetaphysik (Stuttgart 1932), p. 329-340.
15
See the excellent and exhaustive essay of D. A. Lebedev, "St. Alexander
of Alexandria and Origen," in the Trudy Kievskoj Dukhovnoj Akademii
(1915, October/November and December), p. 244-273 and 388-414 [in
Russian]; cf. also another article by the same author, "The problem of the
Origin of Arianism," in the Bogoslovskij Vestnik (1915, May), p. 133-162
(also in Russian).
ie
Only a Syriac version of this important document is preserved. It was
published for the first time and retranslated into Greek by Eduard Schwartz,
"Zur Geschichte des Athanasius," VI , in Nachrichten von der Kniglichen
Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften zu Gttingen (1905), p. 272-273 (now
reprinted in his Gesammelte Schriften, Dritter Band (Berlin 1959), pp. 136-
143). I am quoting the English translation of Kelly, made from the Greek
of SchwartzEarly Christian Creeds, p. 209-210. The authenticity of the
Antioch Council has been vigorously contested by Harnack and others.
The best analysis of all evidence and a convincing defense of the authenticity
can be found in a series of articles by D. A. Lebedev: "The Council in
Antioch of 324 and its Epistle to Alexander, Bishop of Thessalonike," in
Khristianskoje Chtenije (1911, J uly/Aug., 831-858; Sept.), 1008-1023; "On
the Problem of the Council in Antioch of 324 and on the Great and Holy
Council in Ancyra," in Trudy Kievskoj Dukhovnoj Akademii (1914, April.
J uly/August, November; 1915, J anuary) ; continued in Bogoslovskij Vestnik
(1915, July/August, p. 482-512). All these articles are in Russian.
17
See A. Gaudel, "La thologie du chez Saint Athanase," in the
Revue des Sciences religieuses 11, 1931, 1-26; J. B. Berchem, "Le rle du
Verbe dans l'oeuvre de la cration et de la sanctification d'aprs Saint
Athanase," in Angelicum, 1938, p .201-232 and 515-558; and especially Louis
Bouyer, L'Incarnation et l'gliseCorps du Christ dans la thologie de
Saint Athanase (Paris 1943) ; cf. also Regis Bernard, Limage de Dieu d'aprs
St. Athanase (Paris 1952).Professor I. V. Popov, of Moscow Theological
Academy, in his book, The Personality and the Doctrine of Saint Augustine
(1917 [in Russian]), gives an excellent survey of the history of the distinction:
essenceenergy, from Philo to Pseudo-Dionysius, t. I 2, p. 330-356; see also
A. I. Brilliantov, The Influence of the Eastern Theology on the Western in
the Works of J. S. Eriugena [in Russian] St. Petersburg 1898), p. 221 ss.
18
Cf. Ernst Benz, op. cit., p. 340-342: "Durch die Scheidung von
Substanz und Wirkung des Willens ist die engste substantielle Verbindung
von Vater und Sohn und zugleich die Begrndung der 'creatio ex nihilo'
gegeben." The whole paragraph on St. Athanasius in Benz's book is highly
stimulating.
19
Cf. Of be, op. cit., p. 465s., 692s., 751.
O
Louis Bouyer, op. cit., p. 47s.: "Le premier lment nouveau du
Contra Arianoset il est considrablec'est qu'il nous fait contempler la vie
divine en Dieu lui-mme avant qu'il nous la communique. Cette contemplation
est l'inspiration de tout cet ouvrage, car elle inclut les raisons profondes
de la distinction radicale entre Dieu et le cr qui ruine par la base les
thses ariennes. La transcendance divine est vraiment absolue parce que
Dieu n'a aucun besoin de ses cratures: il possde la vie en lui-mme,
et cette vie consiste dans les relations qu'il entretient avec son Verbe."
21
See F. A. Staudenmeier, Die Christliche Dogmatik, Bd. Ill (Freiburg
i/Br. 1848).
**Cf. Jacques Libaert, La doctrine christoogique de Saint Cyrille d'Alex-
andrie avant la querelle nestorienne (Lille 1951), p. 19-43; Nol Charlier,
"Le Thesaurus de Trinitate de Saint Cyrille d'Alexandrie," in the Revue
d'Histoire Ecclsiastique 45, 1950, 25-81.
23
Cf. Th. de Regnon, tudes de Thologie Positive sur la Sainte Trinit,
Troisime Srie: Thories Grecques des Processions Divines, Paris 1898,
p. 263ss. "Cette fcondit de Dieu, cette procession par voie d'activit sub-
stantielle, telle est l'ide matresse de la thorie grecque au sujet du Fils"
(269).
e, for instance, St. Gregory Palamas, Capita physica, theologica etc.,
96, PG 150, 1181: . . .
, , , *
, . . .
* . Cf. my
article, "St. Gregory Palamas and the Tradition of the Fathers," The Greek
Orthodox Theological Review 2, I960, 128-130 and in Volume I of The
Collected Works. Cf. also Jean Meyendorff, Introduction l'tude de Grgoire
Palamas, Paris (1959), especially p. 279ss.
25
See S. Marci Eugenici Ephesini Capita syllogistica, in W. Ga, Die
Mystik des Nikolaus Cabasilas (Greifswald 1849), Appendix II, p. 217: 4i
,
*
".
ae
The latter point of view has been recently ably elaborated by Professor
Endre v. Ivnka, "Palamismus und Vtertradition," in L'glise et les glises,
tudes et Travaux offerts Dom Lambert Beaudouin, vol. II (Chevetogne
1955), p. 29-46. Ivnka's arguments are not convincing; he seems to miss
the crucial point. But it has been the common attitude of Western theology,
especially in the Roman Church.
THE PATRISTIC AGE AND ESCHATOLOGY:
AN INTRODUCTION
1
See e.g. Msgr Joseph Pohle, Eschatology, Adapted and edited by Arthur
Preuss (Herder Book Co., St. Louis, Mo., & London, 1947), p. 2.
2
See Kittel's Theologisches Wrterbuch, vol. Ill, p. 451/452, s. .
(Behm).
3
The question whether this redemptive purpose was the only reason
or motive of the Incarnation, so that it would not have taken place if
man had not sinned, was never raised by the Fathers, with one single
exception. The Christian message was from the very beginning the message
of Salvation, and Qirist was described precisely as the Saviour or Redeemer
of mankind and the world, who had redeemed His people from the bond-
age of sin and corruption. It was assumed that the very meaning of
Salvation was that the intimate union between man and God had been
restored, and it was inferred therefrom that the Redeemer Himself had
to belong to both sides, i.e. had to be at once both Divine and human,
for otherwise the broken communion would not have been recovered.
This line of reasoning was taken by St. Irenaeus, later by St. Athanasius,
and by all the writers of the IVth century, in their struggle against the
Arians. Only in St. Maximus the Confessor we find the suggestion that
Incarnation belonged to the original plan of Creation and in this sense was
independent of the Fall: quaest. ad Thalassium, qu. 60, PG XC, c. 621;
cf. Ambigua, XCI, 1097, 1305, 1308 sq. Cf. the remarks of Fr. Hans Urs
von Balthasar, Liturgie Cosmique, Maxime le Confesseur (Paris, Aubier,
1947), p. 204-205 (German edition, S. 267-268). See also Aloysius Spindeler,
Cur Verbum caro fact urn? Das Moth der Menschwerdung und das Verhltnis
der Erlsung zur Menschwerdung Gottes in den christologischen Glaubens-
kmpfen des vierten und fnften christlichen Jahrhunderts (Forschungen
zur Christlichen Literatur- und Dogmengeschichte, herausgegeben von Erhard
und Kirsch, XVIII. 2), 1938.
4
On the notion of the circular motion in Aristotle see O. Hamelin,
Le Systme d'Aristote (2 ed., Paris 1831), p. 336ss.; J. Chevalier, La
Notion du Necessaire chez Aristote et chez ses prdcesseurs, particulire-
ment chez Platon (Paris 1915), p. l60ss., 180ss.; R. Mugnier, La Thorie
du Premier Moteur et Vvolution de la Pense Aristotelienne (Paris 1930),
p. 24ss.
5
See Pierre Duhem, Le Systme du Monde, Histoire des Doctrines
Cosmologiques de Platon Copernic (t. I, Paris 1914), pp. 65ss., 275-296,
and especially t. II, Paris 1914, p. 447ss.,Les Pres de l'glise et la
Grande Anne. Cf. Hans Meyer, Zur Lehre von der ewigen Wiederkunft
aller Dinge, in Festgabe A. Ehrhard (Bonn 1922), p. 359ff.
6
See Oepke, s. . , in Kittel, I, S. 389: "Vor allem wird
Noies and References 287
terminus technicus fr die Wiederherstellung des kosmi-
schen Zyklus."
7
. Lossev, Essays in Ancient Symbolism and Mythology (t. I, Moscow
1930 [in Russian]), p. 643. This book is one of the most valuable contri-
butions to the modern discussion of Platonism,, including Christian
Platonism. It is utterly rare. The book, and other valuable writings of
Lossev in the same field, is obtainable in Fritz Lieb's Library, at the
University of Basel.
8
Cf. my article, "The Idea of Creation in Christian Philosophy," in the
Eastern Churches Quarterly (Vol. VIII, 1949), 3 Supplementary issue,
"Nature and Grace."
9
See Bchsel, s. . , in Kittel, IV, 355.
10
Cf. the most interesting remarks of E. Gilson in his Gif ford lectures:
L'Esprit de la Philosophie Mdivale (2nd edition, Paris, 1944), the whole
of chapter IX, "L'anthropologie chrtienne," p. 175 ss. Gilson seems to
have underestimated the Aristotelian elements in Early Patristics, but he
gives an excellent mis au point of the whole problem.
n
R. D. Hicks, in the Introduction to his edition of De anima, Cam-
bridge, at the University Press, 1934, p. LVI. Cf. Anton C. Pegis, Saint
Thomas and the Greeks, The Aquinas Lecture, 1939, 3rd printing (Marquette
University Press, Milwaukee, 1951), p. 171. Already E. Rohde, Psyche,
Seelencult und Unsterblichkeitsglaube der Griechen (3. Aufl. 1903, Bd. II),
p. 305, suggested that the whole doctrine of Nous was simply a survival
of Aristotle's early Platonism. This idea was recently upheld by Werner Jger,
Aristotle, Fundamentals of the History of his Development, translation,
by Richard Robinson, 2nd edition (Oxford, at the Clarendon Press, 1948),
p. 332f.
12
Hegel, Vorlesungen ber die sthetik, Smtliche Werke, Bd. X. 2,
p. 377; cf. the whole section on Sculpture, which was for Hegel a peculiarly
"classical art," p. 353f.
18
Lossev, Essays in Ancient Symbolism and Mythology, I, p. 670, 632,
633,in Russian.
14
On the Aristotelian background of Athenagoras' conception see Max
Pohlenz, in Zeitschrift fr die wissenschaftliche Theologie, Bd. 47, p. 24 If f.;
cf. E. Schwarz, index graecus to his edition of Athenagoras, in Texte und
Untersuchungen, IV. 2, 1891, s. . , S. 105. Cf. E. Gilson, L'Esprit de
la Philosophie Mdivale, .197. "Lorsqu'on pse les expressions d'Athena-
goras, la profondeur de l'influence exerce par la Bonne Nouvelle sur la
pense philosophique apparat plein. Cre par Dieu comme une individualit
distincte, conserv par un acte de cration continue dans l'tre qu'il a reu
de lui, l'homme est dsormais le personnage d'un drame qui est celui de sa
propre destine. Comme il ne dpendait pas de nous d'exister, il ne depend
pas de nous de ne pas exister. Le dcret divin nous a condamn l'tre;
faits par la cration, refraits par la redemption, et quel prix. Nous n'avons
le choix qu'entre une misre ou une batitude galement ternelles. Rien de
plus resistant qu'une individualit de ce genre, prvue, voulue, lue par
Dieu, indestructible comme le dcret divin lui-mme qui l'a fait natre; mais
rien aussi qui soit plus tranger la philosophie de Platon comme celle
d'Aristote. L encore, partir du moment o elle visait une pleine
justification rationelle de son esprance, la pense chrtienne se trouvait
constrainte l'originalit."
THE ANTHROPOMORPHITES
IN THE EGYPTIAN DESERT
1
O. Chadwick, John Cassian. A Study in Primitive Monasticism (Cam-
bridge, 1950), p. 16, n. 3; cf. p. 34-35.
2
A. Lieske, "Die Theologie der Logosmystik bei Origenes," Mnsterische
Beitrge zur Theologie (Heft 22, 1938), p. 45 ff., 133 ff. "Bei aller Liebe
zum gekreuzigten Christus und zum Gottmenschen . . . tritt auf dieser hheren
Stufe der Glaubenserkenntnis doch das Interesse und die Hochschtzung fr
das Gottmenschentum Jesu Christi zurck" (p. 47).
3
W. Voelker, Das Vollkommenheitsideal des Origenes (Tbingen 1931),
pp. 109-110. The opposite view is strongly presented by H. De Lubac, Histoire
et Esprit. L'intelligence de l'criture d'aprs Origne (Paris 1950), and also
by F. Bertrand, Mystique de Jesus chez Origne (Paris 1951).
4
Chadwick, p. 149.
5
See J. Lebreton, Le dsaccord de la foi populaire et de la thologie savante
dans l'glise chrtienne du III sicle, Rev. Hist. Eccl. 19 (1923) and 20
(1924); -cf. also his earlier article, "Les Degrs de la connaissance d'aprs
Origne," Recherches de Science Religieuse 13 (1922).
e
A. Struker, Die Gottebenbildlichkeit des Menschen in der christlichen
Literatur der ersten zwei Jahrhunderte (Mnster i. W. 1913), pp. 39-42.
7
Cf. H. Crouzel, Thologie de l'Image de Dieu chez Origne (Paris 1956),
. 153-179, 257ss.
8
D. Cairns, The Image of God in Man (New York 1953), p. 77.
9
Cf. Struker, s. 76-128; also E. Klebba, Die Anthropologie des hl. Irenaeus
(Mnster i. W. 1894 [ = Kirchengeschichtliche Studien, IL 3]), p. 22 ff.;
J. Lawson, The Biblical Theology of Saint Irenaeus (London 1948), p. 198 ff.;
G. Wingren, Maenniskan och Inkarnationen enligt Irenaeus (Lund 1947),
p. 37-49; Engl. transi.: Man and the Incarnation. A study in the Biblical
Theology of Irenaeus (Edinburgh-London 1959), pp. 14-26.
THEOPHILUS OF ALEXANDRIA
AND APA APHOU OF PEMDJE
*. Revillout, "La Vie du bienheureux Aphou, Evque de Pemdje (Oxy-
rinque)," in Revue Egypt ologi que> III, 1, 27-33.
^Francesco Rossi, "Trascrizione di tre manoscritti Copti del Museo Egizio
di Torino, con traduzione italiana," in Memorie dell a Reale Accademia delle
Scienze di, Torino, Serie II, XXXVII, 67-84 (text) and 145-150 (translation).
Rossi published in the same Memorie several other documents from the Turin
collection. There is a separate edition: I papiri copti del Museo egizio di
Torino, trascritti e tradotti, 2 vols. (Torino, 1887, 1892). Cf. Robert Atkinson,
"On Professor Rossi's Publication of South Coptic texts," in the Proceedings
of the Royal Irish Academy, III (Dublin, 1895-1898), 25-99.A minor, but
rather important, emendation of Rossi's text was suggested by Oscar von
Lemm, "Koptische Miscellen," XLVI, in Bulletin de VAcadmie Impriale des
Sciences de St. Petershourg, VI srie, II, 7, 15 Avril 1908, 596-598.
3
V. Bolotov, "Iz tserkovnoj istorii Egipt: II. Zhitie blazhennago Afu,
episkopa Pemdzhskago," in Khristianskoe Chtenie (1886, 3/4), 334-377.
4
E. Drioton, "La discussion d'un moine anthropomorphite audien avec le
Patriarche Thophile d'Alexandrie en l'anne 399," in Revue de l'Orient
Chrtien, Deuxime srie, X [XX], (1915-1917), 92-100 and 113-128.
5
"Manoscritti copti esistenti nel Museo Egizio nella Biblioteca Nazionale
di Torino, raccolti da Bernardino Drovetti e indicati dal Prof. Francesco
Rossi," in Rivista delle Biblioteche e degli Archivi, X, 9, Settembre 1899, 114.
*Catalogus Codicum Copticorum manu scriptorum qui in Museo Borgiano
Veletris adservantur, auctore Georgio Zoega Dan (Romae, MDCCCX),
p. 169.
7
See Francesco Rossi, "Trascrizione di un Codice Copto del Museo Egizio
di Torino," in Memorie, Ser. II, XXXV (1884), 165-167, and also:
"Trascrizione di alcuni testi copti tirati dai papiri del Museo Egizio di
Torino," in Memorie, Ser. II, XXXVI (1885), 89-91.
8
Amedeo Peyron, "Saggio di studi sopra papiri codici cotti ed un Stella
trilingue del Reale Museo Egiziano," in Memorie, XXIX (1825), 78, and
also: Lexicon Linguae Copticae, studio Amedei Peyron (Taurini, 1835),
pp. XXV-XXVI.
Rossi, in Memorie, Serie II, XXXV (1884), 166.
10
E. Revillout, "Le Concile de Nice, d'aprs les textes coptes," in Journal
Asiatique, VII srie, I (1873), 2, 217-222: Revillout gives here a transcription
of the dedicatory note; at that time he thought that the whole collection was
completed already in the early years of St. Cyril. Later on he became more
cautious and spoke of the end of St. Cyril's pontificate: Le Concile de Nice
d'aprs les textes coptes et les divers collections canoniques (Paris, 1881),
p. 112, note I. In the preface to his publication of the "Life" of Aphou he
says simply: before the schism,Revue Egyptlogique, III, I, p. 28.
n
Cf. V. Bolotov, "Iz tserkovnoj istorii Egipta: I. 'Razskasy Dioskora
Khalkidonskom Sobore,'" in Kristianskoe Chtenie 1/2 (1885), 89-92.
12
See Th. Lefort, ""\oov~Exemplum, Exemplar," in Le Muson, XLVII,
1/2, 58: "vraisemblablement aux environs du Vile sicle." It is just a ca-
sual remark: Lefort gives no reasons for his dating.
13
Zoga, Catalogus, p. 4.
14
Bolotov assumed that the Arabic Synaxarion of Michael, Bishop of Atrib
and Malig (XIII century), was based on the Macarian version. See now
Georg Graf, Geschichte der Christlichen Arabischen Literatur, II (Citt del
Vaticano, 1947), 416 ff. The history of the Arabic Synaxaria, however,
cannot be traced in full.
15
Bolotov, Zhitie, pp. 340-343.
16
Bolotov, ibid., pp. 343-346.
17
Drioton, pp. 93-94. Marcel Richard thinks that Drioton had exagger-
ated a bit the historical value of the "Life": "Les crits de Thophile
d'Alexandrie," in Le Muson, LU, 1/2 (1937), 36, note 16.
18
Zoga, Catalogus, pp. 363-370 (Codex. Sahid. CLXXII); E. Amlineau,
"Monuments pour servir l'Histoire de l'Egypte Chrtienne," in Mmoires
publis par les membres de la Mission Archologique Franaise au Caire,
IV, 2 (Paris, 1895), 515-516 (Introduction) and 759-769 (text and
translation ).
19
See De Lacy OTary, The Saints of Egypt (London, 1937), pp. 223-224
and 106-107; Hugh G. Evelyn White, The Monasteries of the Wadi 'n Natrun,
Part II: The History of the Monasteries of Nitria and Scete (New York,
1932), pp. 158 H; also in the Arabic Synaxarium Alexandrinum, under the 7
Paopi,Corpus Scriptorum Christianorum Orientalium, Scriptures Arabic/,
Ser. HI, t. 18 (Roma, 1922), Latin translation by J. Forget, pp. 58-59.
2Q
Amlineau, Monuments, p. 516.
J1
The English translation quoted in the text was kindly made for me by
Professor Thomas O. Lambdin, of Harvard University, to whom I want to
extend my warmest thanks.
22
See, for instance, the chapter "On Holy Anchorites." The Greek text
was published by F. Nau: "Le chapitre et les
sources de la Vie de Saint Paul de Thbes," in Revue de l'Orient Chrtien, X
(1905), 387-417. Nau contended that it was one of the earliest ascetical
writings in Egypt, and was used by St. Jerome: "un des premiers crits
asctiques de l'Egypte" (387). A certain Anchorite is relating his experiences
in the desert:
(410);
(414, note 22). An ancient Latin version of this chapter, by subdeacon John,
was published already by Rosweyde, De pit is Pair um, liber VI, libellus 3,
reprinted in ML LXXIII, 1004-1014: "pidi bubalos penientes, et ilium serpum
De: venientern cum eis nudum" (1009); "pidit... hominem pascentem
tanquam bestiam" (1008). Some fragments of a Coptic translation were
published already by Mingarelli, Aegyptiorum Codicum Reliquiae Venetis in
Bibliotheca Naniana asserpatae (Bononiae, 1785), pp. CCCXXXVII-
CCCXLIII. A Syriac version is in Anon Isho's Paradisus Patrum: published
by Bedjan, Acta Martyrum et Sanctorum, VII (Paris, 1897), 252-260, and,
together with an English translation, by E. W. Budge, The Book of Paradise
etc., (London, 1904), I, 358-362 (translation). There are several stories told
by different people; one of them is attributed to Apa Macarius of Egypt.
The same material is used in the "Life and Conversation" of Apa Onouphrius
(or Benofer). The Coptic text was published twice: by E. Amlineau, "Voyage
d'un moine gyptien dans le dsert," in Recueil de Travaux relatifs la
Philologie et l'Archologie Egyptiennes et Assyriennes V (Paris, 1884),
166-194, and then by . W. Budge, Coptic Martyrdoms, etc., in the dialect of
Upper Egypt (London, 1914), pp. 455-473. In fact, it is a description of a
journey in the desert by Apa Paphnutius. An ancient Latin translation was also
published by Rosweyde,reprinted in ML LXXIII, 211-222.An interesting
pericope on wandering hermits is found among the new Apophthegmata in
the Greek manuscript in the archives of the Library Company in Philadelphia
(Greek Commentary Il4l),~see Edwin C. Tappert, "A Greek Hagiological
Manuscript in Philadelphia," in Transactions of the American Philological
Association LXVIII (1937), 264-276. A selection of passages from this
manuscript is given in English translation by E. Tappert, "Desert Wisdom:
The Sayings of the Anchorites," in The Lutheran Quarterly IX (1957),
157-172. "Now men set snares there and caught antelopes, and the monk,
too, was caught. And his reasoning said to him, 'Put forth thy hand and
release thyself.' But he said to his reasoning, 'If thou art a man, release
thyself and go to men. But if thou art an antelope, thou hast no hands.'
And he stayed in the snare until morning. When the men came to catch
the antelopes and saw the monk ensnared, they were struck with fear. He
himself said nothing, and they released him and let him go. And he went
off, running behind the antelopes into the wilderness." (p. 168).
23
W. Bousset, "Das Mnchtum der sketischen Wste," in Zeitschrift fr
Kirchengeschichte XLII (1923), 31 ff.; cf. Hans Frhr. von Campenhausen,
Die asketische Heimatslsigkeit im altkirchlichen und frhmittelalterlichen
Mnchtum (1930), now reprinted in Tradition und Leben, Krfte der Kirchen-
geschichte, Aufstze und Vortrge (Tbingen, I960), pp. 293-294.
24
See Arthur Vbus, History of Asceticism in the Syrian Orient, I
(Louvain, 1958C.S.C.O., Subsidia 14), 138 ff., and II (Louvain, I960-
C.S.C.O., Subsidia 17), 19 ff. Professor Vbus discusses at length the wild
and exotic character of the early Syrian anchoritism: "The same wildness
also becomes manifest in the way in which these texts draw a comparison
between the life in monasticism and the life of animals. A frequently occurring
feature in these sources is this, that the monks have become the companions
of wild animals. Ephrem invites his readers to make the tour with him to
see these monks and adds: 'Behold, they mingle with stags and are leaping
with fawns.' Moreover it is stated that a life close to animals and nature
is the prerequisite to that sole sphere in which repentance can be obtained"
(, p. 27).
25
See . Steidle, O.S.B., "Homo Dei Antonius," in Antonius Magnus
Eremita (356-1956); Studia Anselmiana, 38 (Roma, 1956), 148-200.
26
The word appears for the first time in Philo, De Vita
Contemplativa, M. 475.13: ,
. It denoted here a private chamber, or a closet, reserved for
solitary meditation and worship (cf. in Mt. 6:6, 24:26, Lk. 12:3).
This passage of Philo was quoted by Eusebius, HE, II, 17, 9. The word does
not occur in any other Greek text till the end of the third century, and at
that time it acquires the meaning of an accommodation for a single monk
or hermit. In this sense the word was used by St. Athanasius, and also in
the Historia Lausiaca. See the note of Fred. C. Conybeare, in his edition,
Philo About the Contemplative Life (Oxford, 1895), p. 211. Cf. also Vita
Epiphanii, cap. 27: Epiphanius visited Hierakas Ccp .
But by the end of the fourth century the word came to
mean "monastery."
27
Cf. Georg Pfeilschifter, "Oxyrhynchos, Seine Kirchen und Klster, Auf
Grund der Papyrfunde," in Festgabe Alois Knpf 1er (Freiburg i/Br., 1917),
pp. 248-264.
28
Cf. Hist, monach., V: ipsi quoque magistratus et principales civitatis et
reliqui cives studio se per singulas portas statuunt qui observent ut sicubi
apparuit peregrinus aut pauper, certatim ad eum qui praeoccupaverit adductus
quae sunt necessaria consequatur.This description of Oxyrhynchus refers to
the last decades of the fourth century.
29
The Greek spelling of the name is .
Mystic Treatises by Isaac of Nineveh, translated from Bedjan's Syriac

text, with an Introduction and Registers, by AJ . Wensinck (Amsterdam,
1923 ) ( ? Verhandelingen der . Akademie van Wetenschappen, Afdeeling
Letterkunde, N.R. Deel XXIII), pp. 166-167; cf. the Greek version, ed.
Nicephorus Theotoki (Leipzig, 1770), pp. 500-501.
31
Drioton, pp. 116-118.The best up-to-date summary of information
on the Audians is by H.-Ch. Puech, in the Reallexikon fr Antike und Chris-
tentum, sub voce, I (1950), coll. 910-915. Puech warns against the indis-
criminate identification of Audians with the Egyptian Anthropomorphites,
but admits, referring to Drioton's article, a possibility of some Audian
influence in Egypt. The Audian movement, which only gradually developed
into a "sect," originated in Mesopotamia, and then expanded to Syria and
later to Scythia, where Audius was banished.H. G. Opitz, in his article on
Theophilus, in Pauly-Wissowa-Kroll Realenzyclopadie, II R., Hb. 10 (1934),
sp. 2154, reserves his opinion on this point: "es ist nicht leicht zu
entscheiden, ob Aphou wirklich Audianer war"; Agostino Favale, Te of Ho
d''Alessandria (345-412), Scritti, Vita e Dottrina (Torino, 1958), quotes
Drioton, but is not certain about the Audian character of the Anthropo-
morphite monks (pp. 93-95). Giuseppe Lazzati, Teofilo d
f
Alessandria
(Milano, 1935), does not mention Aphou at all and only briefly mentions
the Anthropomorphite conflict (pp. 31-33).
32
Cf. Karl Holl, Enthusiasmus und Bussgewalt beim Griechischen
Mnchtum (Leipzig, 1898), pp. 141 ff., 183 ff.
39
R. Reitzenstein, "Des Athanasius Werk ber das Leben des Antonius,"
in Sitzungsberichte der Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenschaften, Phil.-Hist.
Klasse (1914), No. 8, pp. 54 ff.
34
R. Reitzenstein, Historia Monachorum und Historia Lausiaca (Gttingen,
1916), p. 89; cf. the whole chapter 4, "Der Mnch als Apostel."
^Cf. Les Pres du Dsert. Textes choisis et prsents par Ren Draguet
(Paris 1942), p. XXXV: "Dans les documents pachomiens, le cenobitisme
strict est communment appel "la voie apostolique, la voie suprieure des
aptres.'" See also Louis Bouyer, La Spiritualit du Nouveau Testament et
des Pres (Paris, I960), p. 369, and Dom Germain Morin, L'idal monastique
e* la vie Chrtienne des premiers jours, Troisime dition (Paris, 1921),
pp. 66 H. In this sense the word "apostolic life" was used still by Rupert
of Deutz in his treatise De vita vere apostolica (ML CLXX, 611-664).
36
The "Life of Blessed Aphou" was never translated into English. Pre
Pierre de Bourguet, S.J., of the Muse du Louvre, was kind enough to
provide me with a French translation from the original. I wish to express my
warmest gratitude for his gracious assistance. The English version given in
the text was established on the basis of Pre de Bourguet's translation,
collated with the earlier translations: Russian by Bolotov and Italian by
Rossi. Professor Thomas O. Lambdin checked the translation against the
Coptic original, for which I am deeply thankful. My best and cordial thanks
to my friend and colleague, Ralph Lazzaro, of Harvard Divinity School, for
his generous and devoted help in translation. I have to thank also Pre Jean
Danilou, S.J., for introducing me and my query to Pre de Bourguet.
37
This passage was misunderstood by all previous translators: Bolotov,
Rossi, and Drioton. They missed the point: is a legal term and
denotes t;hfe original of a document, which is supposed to be deposited in
the archives, as an exemplum, as scriptum authenticum, as a standard. Aphou
wanted to check whether that to which he so firmly objected was in the
original () or whether it was only in that particular copy which was
sent to Oxyrhynchus, having crept in there by a lapsus calami of the scribe,
. He wanted to know the official text. In fact, the "preaching"
to which he objected was not a sermon, but rather the formal Paschal Epistle
of the Archbishop, that is, an official document which had to be deposited
in the archieves of the Archdiocese. See Bernhard Kubier, "" I und
'" in Zeitschrift der Savigny-Stiftung fr Rechtsgeschichte, Roman.
Abt., LUI (1933), 64-98, and Th. Lefort, "" = Exemplum, Exemplar,"
in Le Muson, XLVII, 1/2, 57-60.
38
Drioton also puts the conversation before the intervention of monks,
p, 121. On the contrary, Felix Haase suggested that it took place shortly
afterkurz nachher, which is hardly probable: Altchristliche Kirchenge-
schiehte nach Orientalischen Quellen (Leipzig, 1925), p. 201.
39
Cf. Berthold Altaner, Patrologie, 5th edition (Mnchen, 1958), p. 282,
and Johannes Quasten, Patrology, III (I960), pp. 386-388.
40
Cf. Henri Crouzel, Thologie de Dieu chez Origne (Paris, 1956),
especially pp. 206-211; a brief summary of the book is given in the article
of Crouzel "L'image de Dieu dans la thologie d'Origne," in Studia
Patristica, II (Berlin, 1957), 194-201. See also Th. Camelot, "La Thologie de
l'Image de Dieu," in Revue des Sciences Philosophiques et Thologiques, XL
(1956), 443-471.
41
Cf. my essay, "The Concept of Creation in St. Athanasius," in Studia
Patristka, VI (1962), 36-57. Also in this volume.
42
Cf. Rgis Bernard, L'image de Dieu d'aprs St. Athanase (Paris, 1952),
pp. 48-54, 62-79, 131 ff. See also the article of Pre Camelot, quoted above,
and J ulius Gross, Entstehungsgeschichte des Erbsndendogmas, (Mnchen-
Basel, I960), pp. 125-132.
43
Cf. Walter J . Burghardt, S.J ., The Image of God in Man according to
Cyril of Alexandria (Washington, 1957), pp. 141-159.It should be men-
tioned here that Saint Cyril continued the struggle against the Anthropo-
morphites in the monastic circles of Egypt. His treatise Adversus Anthropo
morphitas is actually a later compilation in which his two epistles addressed
to a certain Deacon Tiberius and his associates were fused together; see the
critical edition by Philip E. Pusey, Cyrilli Archiepiscopi Alexandrini in D.
Ioannis Evangelium, III (Oxomi, 1872).
44
W. Bousset, Apophthegmata, Studien zur Geschichte des ltesten Mnch-
turns (Tbingen, 1923), p. 83.
45
See my essay, "The Anthropomorphites in the Egyptian Desert," in the
Akten des XI Internationalen Byzantinisten-Kongresses, 1958 (Mnchen, |.
I960), pp. 154-159. Also in this volume. I
4e
Tillemont, Mmoires pour servir l'Histoire Ecclsiastique des six
premiers sicles, XI (Paris, 1706), 463.
47
We find a similar phrase in the Coptic record of conversations of Cyril
and Theophilus with the monks, published and translated in German by
W. E. Crum: Theophilus says to Apa Horsiesius; "So wie der Herr der Sonne,
Christus, als er zu dem Himmel auffuhr, ebenso bist du vor mir heute"Der
Papyruscodex saec. VI-VII der Phillippsbibliothek in Cheltenham, herausge-
geben und bersetzt von W. E. Crum (Strassburg, 1915) (= Schriften der
Wissenschaftlichen Gesellschaft in Strassburg, Heft 15), p. 67; also quoted in
Haase, op. cit., p. 201.
are for the years 401 (=Hieron. ep. 96) and 404 ( =ep. 100).
See Marcel Richard, the article quoted above, and also R. Delobel & Marcel
Richard, under the name of Theophilus, in the Dictionnaire de Thologie
Catholique, XV, I (1946). ,,
49
Draguet, Les Pres du Dsert, p. XV: "crivant vingt ou trente ans \
aprs son voyage, le pieux j ournaliste a mis du sien dans son reportage: le
mythe de la parfaite obj ectivit ne pourrait d'ailleurs tromper que les pauvres
psychologues que nous sommes. Cassien ne cache pas que c'est travers sa
propre exprience qu'il se remmore celle de ses matres gyptiens; ce qu'il
savait moins, peut-tre, et qui ne l'aurait troubl d'aucune sorte, c'est que,
dans les Confrences, il peignait le rustique asceticsme de Scte avec la
palette brillante des Alexandrins plus savants."
50
D. Salvatore Marsili, O.S.B., Giovanni Cassiano ed Evagrio Pontico,
Dottrina sulla carit e contempazione (Romae, 1936) (~Studia Anselmiana,
V), p. 161; cf. also Owen Chadwick, John Cassian, A Study in Primitive
Monasticism (Cambridge, 1950).
sl
See especially R. Draguet, "L'Histoire Lausiaque, une oeuvre crite
dans l'esprit d'Evagre," in Revue d'Histoire Ecclsiastique (Louvain, 1946),
321-364, and (1947), 5-49.
Notes and Reference.
1
; 297
WESTERN INFLUENCES IN RUSSIAN THEOLOGY
1
Otzyvy eparkhial'nykh arkhiereev po voprosu cherkovnoi rejormy, II
(Petersburg, 1906), pp. 142-143. See the brochure by Tarasii (Kurganskii) :
"Perelom drevnerusskom bogoslovii," in the edition containing a "Foreword"
by Metropolitan Anthony (Warsaw, 1927).
2
For the early period see B. Leib, Rome Kiev et Byzance la fin du 11
sicle (Petersburg, 1924). This work contains a good bibliography.
3
See A. A. Pokrovskii, Drevnee Pskovsko-Novgorodskoe pis'mennoe
nasledie, obozrenie pergamentnykh rukopisei Tipografskoi i Patriashei biblio-
teki. Trudy 15-go arkheologicheskogo s'ezda Novgorode (Moscow, 1916),
II; I. P. Popov, vozniknovenii Moskovskoi Sinodal'noi (Patriarshei)
Biblioteki. Sbornik statei [in honor of A. S. Orlov] (Leningrad, 1934),
pp. 29-38.
4
See especially the works by I. E. Evseev, Rukopisnoe predanie Slavianskoi
biblioteki, Khristianskoe chtenie (1911); Ocherki po istorii Slavianskogo
perevoda biblioteki, Khristianskoe chtenie (1912 and 1913); Genadievskaia
Bibliia 1499 goda. Trudy 15-go arkheologicheskogo s'ezda Novgorode, II,
1 (1914); see also I. A. Chistovich, Ispravlenie teksta Slavianskoi biblii
pered izdaniem 1731. goda, Pravoslavnoe obozrenie, I860, April and May.
5
B. N. Beneshevich, istorii perevodnoi literatury Novgorode I.
stoletit, Sbornik statei chesf A. I. Sobolevskogo (1928); Slovo-Kratko"
published by A. D. Grigoriev, Chteniia Moskovskom Obschestve Istorii i
Drevnostei (1902); see V. Valdenberg, Drevne-russkoe uchenie predelakh
tserkovnoi vlasti (M. 1916); A. D. Sedelenikov, "K izuchen'iu 'Slovo-Kratko'
i deiaternosti dominikantsa Veniamina," Izvestiia Otdeleniia Russkogo Iazyka i
Slovesnosti Rossiiskoi Akademii Nauk, XXX (1925); Ocherki katolicheskogo
vliianiia Novgorode 15-16 vekakh. Doklady R. Akademii Nauk, 1929
6
N. Andreev, dele d'iaka Viskovatogo, Seminarium Kondakovianum, V
(1932); "Rozysk" po delu Viskovatogo iz Chteniia Moskovskogo Obschestva
storii i Drevnostii (1847;and better, 1858); Buslaev, Istoricheskie ocherki,
II, and in Istoriia russkogo iskustva by I. Grabar', Vol. VI.
7
P. Pierling, La Russie et le Saint-Sige, I (1896).
8
See his letter in the Appendix to Tvoreniia Sv. Ottsov, XVII, 2, p. 190.
9
The "Apokrisis" was translated into modern Russian and newly published
in 1869. See N. Skaballanovich, Ob Apokrisis e Khmtofora F Haleta (Peters-
burg, 1873); concerning the compiler see J. Tretjak, Piotr Skarga w dziejach i
literaturze unit Brzeskiej (Krakow, 1913); see also M. Hrusevskii, Istoriia
Ukrainy-Rusi, VI (1907). On Prince Ostrozhskii see K. V. Lewicki, JCr.
Konstanty Ostrogski a Unia Brzeska 1596 (Lemberg, 1933).
10
Hyp. Pociei, Kazania i Homilie, p. 539quoted from Josef Tretjak,
Piotr Skarga (Krakow, 1913), p. 222.
n
On Peter Mogila see the basic but unfinished work: S. T. Golubev,
Petr Mogila i ego spodvizhniki, 2 vols. (Kiev, 1833 and 1897); quite
important is the book by E. F. Shmurlo, Rimskaia kuriia na russkom
pravoslavnom stoke 1609-1654 godakh (Prague, 1928); "Pravoslavnoe
ispovedanie" (Greek) in the collections of E. Kimmel, Monumenta fidei
Ecclesiae Orientalis (1850), or J. Michalcescu, '
(1904), or recently in J. Karmiris,
' ' , 1. II, Athens 1952.
See also the edition of the Latin text with notes and a foreword by A.
Malvy, S.J. and M. Viller, SJ. in Oriental/a Christiana, X, 39 (1927); on
Peter Mogila's Eucbologion see E. M. Kryzhanovskii, Povrezhdenie tserkovnoi
obriadnosti i religioznykh obychaev iuzhno-russkoi mitropolii, Rukovodstvo
dlia sel'skikh pastyrei (I860) and Sobranie Sochinenii, I (1890). See my
Puti russkogo bogosloviia {Ways of Russian Theology} for the literature on
the Kievan Academy.
12
See, for a precise analysis of "Kamen' very," I. Morevi, Kamen' very
mitr. Stefana Iavorskogo (Petersburg, 1904); see also the well-known book
by Iurii Samarin, Stefan lavorskii i Theofan Prokopovich, Sobranie Sochinenii,
V (1880); S. I. Maslov, Biblioteka Stefana lavorskogo, Chtenie obshchestve
Nestora Let opt sts a, 24, 2 (1914); Hans Koch, Die russische Orthodoxie im
Petrinischen Zeitalter (Breslau, 1929).
13
The basic work is: P. V. Znamenskii, Dukhovnye shkoly Rossi do
reformy 1808 goda (Kazan', 1881); S. T. Golubev, Kievskaia akademiia
pervoi polovine 18-go stoletiia (Kiev, 1903); N. I. Petrov, Kievskaia
akademiia kontse 11-go i nachale 18-go stoletiia (Kiev, 1901); D. Vish-
nevskii, Znachenie Kievskoi akademii razvitii dukhovnoi shkoly Rossii s
ucherezheleniia St. Sinoda, Trudy Kievskoi dukhovnoi Akademii (1904, 4 and
. 5) ; Kievskaia akademiia getmanstvo K. G. Razumovskogo, Trudy (1905), 5;
Kievskaia Dukh. Akademiia tsarstvovanie Imp. Ekateriny II, Trudy (1906),
7, 8-9, 11; V. Serebrennikov, Kievskaia akademiia polovine 18-go veka do
preobrazovaniia 1819 godu (Kiev, 1897); S. K. Smirnov, Istoriia Moskovskoi
Slaviano-Greko'Latinskoi Akademii (Moscow, 1855); Istoriia Troitskoi
Lavrskoi seminarii (Moscow, 1867); see also the works of the history
of specific seminaries: the Vladimir Seminary by K. F. Nadezhin (1875)
and by N. V. Malitskii (1900); the Suzdal' Seminary by N. V. Malitskii
(1900); th Tver' Seminary by V. Kolosov (1889); the Riazan' Seminary
by Agntsev (1889).
u
There is a rather comprehensive work on Theophan Prokopovich: la.
Samarin, Stefan lavorskii i Feofan Prokopovich, Sobranie Sochinenii, V (1880);
I. V. Chistovich, Feofan Prokopovich i ego vremiia (Petersburg, 1866); on
Theophan's "theological system" see the article by PI. Cherviakovskii, "Khrist.
Chtenie/' (1876-1878); F. A. Tikhomirov, Traktaty Feofana Prokopovicha
Bge edinom po sushchestvu i troichnom litsakh (Petersburg, 1884);
A. I. Kartashev, voprosu pravoslaviia Feofana Prokopovicha, Sbornik
s tatet chest D. A. Kobe ko (1913); P. V. Verkhovskoi, Ucherezhdenie
Dukhovnoi kollegii i Dukhovnyi Reglament, I and II (Rostov-on-Don,
1916); Hans Koch, Die russische Orthodoxie (Breslau, 1929); see also the
interesting essays by R. Stupperich in ZoG, V and IX in Zeitschrift fr
savische Philologie, XII, 332 ff., also in Kyrios (1936), 4; also R. Stupperich,
Stoats gedanke und Religionspolitik Peters des Grossen (Knigsberg, 1936);
and also the article by V. Titlinov in the Russkii Biograficheskii S lova/.
15
See Filaret (Gumilevskii), Obzor russkoi dukhovnoi literatury, II, 3
(1884); on Metropolitan Platon see I. M. Snegirev, Zhizn* mitr. Moskovskogo
Platona, 1-2 (Moscow, 1856); F. Nadezhdin, M. Platon Levshin, kak
propotednik (Kazan', 1882); N. P. Rozanov, M. M. Platon (Moscow, 1913);
V. P. Vinogradov, Platon i Filaret, Mitropolity Moskovskie, SravniteVniia
kharakteristika ikh nravstvennogo oblika in Bogoslovskii Vestnik, 1913 1-2.
See also "Iz vospominanii pokoinogo Filareta, mitrop. Moskov.," Pravoslav,
Obozreniia (1868, August)("iz zapisok A. V. Gorskogo").
16
See the entirety of chapter V"Bor'ba za Bogoslovie"in my book
Putt Russkogo Bogosloviia {Ways of Russian Theology}, pp. 128-233.
17
Aleksei I. Vvedenskii, "K voprosu metodologicheskoi reforme
pravoslavnoi dogmatiki," Bogoslovskii Vestnik (April, 1914); also published
separately.
18
N. Gilarv-Platonov, Iz perezhitogo. Avtobiograficheskiia vospominanita
(Moscow, 1886), pp. 279-280.
ORTHODOX ECUMENISM
IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY
*Cf. the whole chapter on this period in my book, The Ways of Russian
Theology (Paris, 1937) [in Russian], p. 128 ff. References and bibliography,
p. 537 f. The act of the Holy Alliance (the French text) in Martens,
Nouveau Recueil de Traits et Conventions conclus par la Russie avec les
Puissances trangres (St. Petersbourg, I I ) , p. 656-658. On the Holy Alliance
itself see: . Muhlenbeck, tudes sur les Origines de la Sainte Alliance
(Paris, 1888); M. Godlewski, "Cesarz Aleksander I jako mistyk," (Krakow,
1926; originally in Przegad Powszechny, . 166, 1925, and 170, 1926);
W. Naf, Zur Geschichte der Heiligen Allianz (Bern 1928; Berner Unter-
suchungen zur allgemeinen Geschichte, I) ; Franz Buchler, Die geistigen
Wuzeln der Heiligen Allianz (Freiburg i/Br., 1929); Hildegard Schaeder,
Die dritte Koalition und die Heilige Allianz, 1934 (Ost-Europaische
Forschungen, N. F. 16). Important material is to be found in the "notes
et commentaires" of Eugene Susini, in his recent publication of the Lettres
Indites de Franz von Baader, v. I (Paris, 1942); vols. Il & III (Wien, 1951).
The memorandum of Baader presented to three monarchs, lieber das durch die
franzsische Revolution herbeigefhrte Bedrfnis einer neuen und innigeren
Verbindung der Religion mit der Politik (1815; dedicated to Prince Galitzin),
in his Smtliche Werke, Bd. VI, and in Baader's Anthology, published by J.
Sauter, Herdflamme, Bd. 14 (Jena, 1925). On Baader see especially E. Benz,
"Die abendlndische Sendung der stlich-orthodoxen Kirche," in Akademie
der Wissenschaften und der Literatur. Abhandlungen der Geistesund
Sozialwissenschaftichen Klasse (Jahrgang, 1950, Nr. 8) . On Jung Stilling
see Benz, "Das Reich Gottes im Osten," in Evangelium und Osten, VII. 12
(1934), and VIII. 4 (1935), and " J
u n
Stilling in Marburg," in Marburger
Vortrge, 3 (Marburg, 1949). For a wider background see Jakob Baxa,
Einfhrung in die romantische Staatswissenschaft (2nd ed., J ena, 1931) (Die
Herdflamme, Ergnzungsband 4) . On the Russian Bible Society: A. N. Pypin,
Religious Movements under Alexander I (2nd ed., Petrograd, 1916), and
I. A. Chistovich, History of the Russian Translation of the Bible (2nd ed.,
St. Petersburg, 1899first published in 1873),both books in Russian; rich
documentation. Some material is available in J. Owen, The History of the
Origin and First Ten Years of the British and Foreign Bible Society (3 vols.,
1816 a. 1820); E. Henderson, Bible Researches and Travels in Russia
(London, 1826); Robert Pinkerton, Russia, or Miscellaneous Observations
on the Past and Present State of this Country and its Inhabitants (London,
1833) J Paterson, The Book for every Land. Reminiscences of Labour and
Adventure in the Work for Bible Circulation in the North of Europe and
in Russia (Edited with a prefatory memoir by W. L. Alexander, 1858). On
the Emperor Alexander's links with the Society of Friends see J. Cunningham,
The Quakers (London, 1868); and especially Memoirs of the Life and Gospel
Labours of Stephen Greilet, ed. by Benjamin Seebohm (Philadelphia, 1862),
v. I, p. 293, 313, 315 f., 386-478 Cf. Peter . Gtze, Frst Alexander
Nikolajewitsch Galitzin und seine Zeit (Leipzig, 1882). Further Bibliography
in Benz, Die Sendung, 846-848. On De Maistre see Georges Goyau, "La
Pensee religieuse de Joseph de Maistre," in Revue des Deux Mondes (1921),
and separately; M. Jugie, /. de Maistre et l'glise Grco-Russe (Paris, 1922);
Emile Dermenghem, Joseph de Maistre Mystique, Nouvella edition, La
Colombe (Paris, 1946). Cf. Quatre chapitres indits sur la Russie par le
comte Joseph de Maistre, publis par son fils, le comte Rodolphe de Maistre
(Paris, 1859); "Un crit indit de J. de Maistre," in tudes, v. 73 (1897);
Wilhelm Schwarz, Die Heilige Allianz (Stuttgart, 1935); Robert Triomphe,
Joseph De Maistre (Geneva, 1968).
2
Philaret's Conversation was never translated into any Western language.
In Russian it has been republished many times, slightly revised by the
author himself; in the later editions (after his death), the concluding part
of the treatise, dealing with the "ecumenical" question, was usually omitted.
In this chapter, the 2nd edition has been used, Moscow, 1833. As early as
1811, Philaret wrote an "Exposition of the differences between the Eastern
and Western Churches, concerning the teaching of faith," probably for
Empress Elizabeth of Russia. In the original it was published only in 1870,
Readings in the Moscow Imperial Society of Russian History and Antiquities,
1870, I; but in English translation (from the manuscript supplied by Philaret
himself), it had appeared in 1833, in Pinkerton's Russia etc., p. 39-54;
German translation (extracts) in the review of Pinkerton's book, Evangelische
Kirchenzeitung (published by Hengstenberg), Bd. XV., 1834, Nrs. 71-73,
77-79 etc. On Philaret, see my Ways, p. 166-184 and passim (Bibliography).
Cf. A. P. Stanley, Lectures on the History of the Eastern Church (1861);
new edition in Everyman's Library, p. 377: "Philaret, the venerable Metro-
politan of Moscow, represents, in some measure at least, the effect of that
vast wave of reactionary feeling which we sometimes associate exclusively
with England, even with Oxford, and a few well-known names in Oxford,
but which really has passed over the whole of Europe... The gentle and
saint-like representative in Russia of opinion and practices which in England
are too near ourselves to be described more closely." Cf. Stanley's article in
Macmillan's Magazine, February, 1868. Stanley, "Philaret in 1857": see The
Life and Correspondence of A. P. Stanley, by Rowland E. Prothero, v. I,
New York, 1894, p. 527-530. On Philaret see also: Memoirs of Stephen
Greilet, I, 395 f., 414, 421 (personal impressions); and Notes of a visit to the
Russian Church in the years 1840, 1841, by William Palmer, selected and
arranged by Cardinal Newman, London, 1882, passim. Only some sermons
of Philaret are available in English, but probably his sermons were his
maj or theological contribution: Select Sermons of the late Metropolitan of
Moscow Philaret, translated from the Russian, London, Joseph Masters, 1873
(translated by E. Th. Tyutchev); cf. Choix de Sermons et Discours de S. Em.
Mgr. Philarte, traduits du Russe par A. Serpinet, 3 vols., Paris, 1866.
Soloviev's critical comments in his La Russie et TJ glise Universelle (Paris,
1886; English translation, Russia and the Universal Church, London, The
Centenary Press, 1948, p. 54-55. In this connection, one should mention an-
other interesting attempt to interpret the relation between the Eastern and
Western (Roman) Churches: Considerations sur la doctrine et V Esprit de
Vglise Orthodoxe, par Alexandre Stourdza, Stuttgart, Cotta, 1816; German
translation by A. von Kotzebue, Leipzig, 1817. Stourdza (1791-1854) was
deeply involved in the mystical movements of the first decades of the century,
and his book betrays the influence of Baader etc., although he was a
conservative Orthodox. His point of view is close to that of Philaret. It has
been recently suggested that unless the "Considerations" of Stourdza had
been published, probably the famous book by Joseph De Maistre, Du Pape,
would not have been written at all; Susini, III, p. 92; cf. Camille Latreille,
Joseph de Maistre et la Papaut, Paris, Hachette, 1906. On Stourdza see
Susini, III, 82 ff., and Benz, Die Sendung, p. 785 ff. Stourdza's book is
reprinted (in French, as it was written) in his Oeuvres Posthumes, t. IV.,
Paris, 1860.
3
Moehler's book on Unity was recently re-published by E. J. Vierneisel,
Mainz, 1925 (Deutsche Klassiker der Katholischer Theologie aus Neuerer
Zeit, Matthias Gruenewald Verlag); French translation by Dom . Lilienfeld,
O.S.B., Paris, 1938 (Unam Sanctam, Les ditions du Cerf). On Moehler
see the centenary volume: L'glise est Une, Hommage Moehler, d. by
Pierre Chaillet, Bloud & Gay, Paris, 1939 (the same in German); K.
Eschweiler, / . A. Moehlers Kirchenbegriff, Braunsberg, 1930; G. R. Geisel-
man, "Geist des Christentums und Katholicismus: J. A. Moehler und die
Entwicklung seines Kirchenbegriffs" in the Theologische Quartalschrift, Bd.
112, 1931 ; and especially Geiselmann's later publication, /. . Moehler:
Die Einheit der Kirche und die 'Wiedervereinigung der Konfessionen, Wien,
1940. In English: Serge Bolshakoff, The Doctrine of the Unity of the
Church in the works of Khomyakov and Moehler, S.P.C.K., London, 1946.
On the general background see Georges Goyau, IJ Allemagne Religieuse,
. II, Paris, 1905, and especially E. Vermeil, Jean Adam Moehler et l'cole
catholique de Tubingue, Paris, 1913. Moehler's Symbolik has been translated
into English by James Burton Robertson: Symbolism: or Exposition of the
Doctrinal Differences between Catholics and Protestants, as Evidenced by
their Symbolical Writings, 2 vols., London, 1843.
4
Cf. Yngve Brilioth, The Anglican Revival, London, 1925, p. 329. On
Moehler's influence in the Tractarian Movement see H. Boehmer, "Die
Kirche Englands und der Protestantismus," in the Neue Kirchliche Zeitschrift,
1916. Convergence between Moehler and Newman was strongly stressed by
Jean Guitton, La Philosophie de Newman. Essai sur l'ide de development,
Boivin & Co., Paris, 1933, p. 48, 118 n. 3. 129. Newman actually mentions
Moehler (and De Maistre) in the Introduction of his treatise on "The
Development of Christian Doctrine": New edition, by F. C. Harold, Long-
mans, 1949, p. 28. It would be interesting to compare Newman's The
Arians of the Fourth Century (first published in 1833) and Moehler's
Athanasius der Grosse und die Kirche seiner Zeit, besonders im Kampfe mit
dem Arianismus (2 Bde, 1827); d. Guitton, p. 221. Moehler's influence
on Newman and the "British Critic" was censured by some Tractarians as
"romanizing" : the principle of "development" seemed to contradict the
appeal to "antiquity." See W. Palmer (of Worcester College, Oxford),
A Narrative of Events, Connected. with the Publication of the Tracts for
the Times (1843); New edition, with an Introduction and Supplement
extending to the Present Time, London, 1883, p. 151 f., 166 f.; cf. Palmer's
Treatise on the Church, 3rd ed., v. II, p. 443 f.
5
Ks. A. Pawlowski, Idea Kosciola wujeciu rosyjskiej teologji i historiosofji,
Warszawa, 1935, p. 89 f., 229 f., admits a direct influence, and probably
he is right. It is denied by others: A. Gratieux, A. S. Khomiakov et le
Mouvement Slavophile, . II, Paris, 1939, p. 105, . I; P. Baron, "Un
thologien laic Russe au XIX-e sicle. A. S. Khomiakov (1804-1860). Son
Ecclesiologie: Expos et Critique,
3
' Roma, 1940, p. 58-60 (Orientalia
Christiana Analecta, 127); Bolshakov, p. 216-262. Cf. also S. Tyszkiewicz,
S. J., "La thologoie moehlerienne de l'Unit et les thologien pravoslaves,"
in L'glise est Une, p. 270 ff.; P. Yves Congar, "La pense de Moehler
et l'ecclliologie Orthodoxe," in henikon, 1935.
e
Dr. Darwell Stone, a man of enormous erudition in all fields of Church
History, "was once heard to remark that he did not know of its ancestry."
Upon the strong recommendation of Lord Halifax he would not use it
himself.F. L. Cross, Darwell Stone. Churchman and Counsellor, Dacre
Press, Westminster (1943), p. 55, n. 3. Ci. T. A. Lacey, "The Unity of
the Church as treated by English Theologians," London, S.P.C.K., 1898
(Tracts of the Church Historical Society, XXXV).
7
Newman, Parochial and Plain Sermons, v. Ill, "Submission to Church
Authority," November 29, 1829; New edition, Rivingtons, London, 1885,
p. 191 f.
8
Newman's "Prefatory Notice" to W. Palmer (of Magdalen College,
Oxford), Notes of a Visit to the Russian Church, p. v-v'.
9
Pusey makes the same point in his "Eirenikon." "Suspension of inter-
communion" does not estrange the separated Churches from Unity; "The
Church of England a Portion of Christ's One Holy Catholic Church, and
a Means of Restoring Visible Unity." An Eirenikon, in a Letter to the
author of The Christian Year; first published in 1865; reprinted, 1866,
p. 248 ff. Cf. A. S. Duncan Jones, "The Oecumenical Ideals of the Oxford
Movement," in Northern Catholicism: Centenary Studies in the Oxford and
Parallel Movements, ed. by N. P. Williams and Charles Harris, S.P.C.K.,
London (1933), p. 446 H.; H. Brandreth, The Ecumenical Ideals of the
Oxford Movement, S.P.C.K., London, 1947; P. E. Shaw, The Early Tractarians
and The Eastern Church, Morehouse, Milwaukee & Mowbray, London,
(1830).
10
The Early Tractarians, 76; cf. the whole chapter, "The Early
Tractarians and Reunion," p. 59 ff.
"Pusey to Rev. R. Harrison, Feb. 21, 1840, in Life of Edward Bouverie
Pusey, by H. P. Liddon, v. II, London, 1893, p. 148-149.
t2
The Articles Treated in Tract XC Reconsidered, and Their Interpreta-
tion Vindicated, in a Letter to the Rev. R. M. Jelf, D.D., Oxford, 1841,
p. 184-185.
13
On th Jerusalem Bishopric see first of all W. H. Hechler, The
Jerusalem Bishopric, London 1883 (all official documents in the Appendix);
cf. Shaw, The Early Tractarians, chap. IV, p. 101 ff. See a new presentation of
the whole story by Kurt Schmidt-Clausen, Vorweggenomme Einheit. Die
Grndung des Bistums Jerusalem im fahre 1841 (Berlin and Hamburg, 1965).
14
George Tomlinson, Report of a Journey to the Levant, Addressed to His
Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, President of the Society for Promoting
Christian Knowledge, s.d. (1841?); cf. J. Beaven, On Intercourse between
the Church of England and the Churches of the East, and on the ecclesiastical
Condition of the English abroad, London, 1840; see Shaw, 1-4-2 ff. and the
other book by the same author, American Contacts with the Eastern Churches.
1820-1870. Chicago, 111. (1937), p. 41 ff.
15
The whole story in Shaw, American Contacts, p. 35 ff. The American
"Mission" seems to have been originally conceived as a "mission" in a
narrow sense, but actually "was operated in support of Tractarian theology"
(51), and this attitude involved Southgate in a bitter conflict with the
other ("Protestant") missionary agencies in the East, creating a disappoint-
ment in certain quarters in The States. It is interesting to compare this
Episcopal "mission" with an earlier one, the "Greek Mission" in Athens,
instituted in 1830. The missionary, Dr. Hill, was very cautious in his
action, but even in the official instruction given by Bishop Griswold it was
assumed that the Greek Church somehow "departed from the purity and
simplicity of primitive times and scriptural example" (first published in
S. D. Denison, A History of the Foreign Missionary Work of the Protestant
Episcopal Church, v. I, New York, 1871, p. 142-144). Dr. Hill himself
was quite emphatic on this point. He wrote in 1839: "The primary object
of the Church in its Mission to the Greeks should never be lost sight of, viz.,
the spiritual renovation of our Mother Church." His purpose was, in his
own words (1844), "to impart to the people religious knowledge, the effect
of which, when widely disseminated, must be a reformation of the whole
system within their Churches," (Quoted by Dr. Wallace E. Robbins, in his
chapter, "The Mission to Greece," in the History of The Theological
Seminary in Virginia and Its Historical Background, ed. by the Rev. Win.
A. R. Goodwin, Rochester, N.Y., s.d., 1924, v. II, p. 260. The heroic
struggle of the Greeks for their national independence in the early decades
of the XlXth century inspired much sympathy in the Anglo-Saxon world,
and "Philhellenism" was widespread in those years. But Greece, and the
rest of the Levant, were regarded mainly as a "mission field," and mis-
sionaries were sent there with the prospect of contributing to the revival
and reformation of the Church of the country. This attitude could not
fail to provoke resistance on the side of the Church and people, and a
strong feeling against the "proselytism," which still colors the Greek
reaction to all "ecumenical" ventures. The early decades of the Greek
independence were marked by a strong conflict between the "liberal"
(Westernizing) and "traditional" trends within the Church of Greece itself.
See P. E. Shaw, "American Contacts," and E. R. Hardy, Jr., "The Greek
Mission of the Protestant Episcopal Church," 1828-1899, in the Historical
Magazine of the Protestant Episcopal Church, September, 1941, p. 183-201.
Cf. also Beitrge zur Kenntnis des gegenwrtigen Geistes und Zustandes der
Griechischen Kirche in Griechenland und in der Trkei, gesammelt von J.
Wenger, Berlin, 1839 (some documents in translation in the Appendix).
For general background J. N. Karmiris, Orthodoxy and Protestantism (in
Greek), p. 277 ff. (Bibliography) and Chrysostomos Papadopoulos, History
of the Church of Greece (in Greek), v. I, Athens, 1920.
16
Pusey, A Letter to His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, on some
Circumstances connected with the Present Crisis in the English Church,
Oxford, 1842, p. 118; for background see Liddon, Life of Pusey, II, p. 272 ff.
17
Shaw, The Early Tractarians, p. 119 ff.
18
Palmer's Notes, p. 11 f. On Sibthorpe s. R. D. Middleton, Magdalen
Studies, S.P.C.K., London, 1936. It is interesting to discover that the editors
of The Christian Remembrance already in 1841 prefaced the sermon of
Philaret in Moscow on Christmas day, which they published in translation,
with a general note on the Greek Church of the following content. The
Greek Church was at once better and worse than the Church of Rome:
better as it was not formally committed to any objectionable doctrinal
innovations, worse "as being more sunk in superstition and carnality,"
and therefore offering less hope "that it should be quickened anew unto
spirituality." Such was "the general feeling of thoughtful Churchmen,"
it was stated, and the editors concluded: "we fear, however, that it has
too much foundation in truth" (July, 1841, p. 51). E. D. Clarke, a
renowned Cambridge scientist and traveller, who brought from the East
the famous "Codex Clarkianus" of Plato, simply described ikons as idols:
"the myriads of idol painting dispersed throughout the Empire . . . each
of them will afford the reader a very accurate idea of a Russian Bogh."
A plate appended to the text and representing several ikons was inscribed:
"Barbarous idols of the Greek Church in Russia."Travels in various
countries of Europe, Asia, and Africa. Part the first: Russia, Tartary, and
Turkey, Cambridge, 1810, p. 25 and Plate opposite p. 26.
"Letter to Frederick Rogers (Lord Blachford), quoted by Maisie Ward,
Young Mr. Newman, Sheed & Ward, New York, 1948, p. 379.
20
See my book, The Ways..., ch. V, "The Struggle for Theology,"
p. 128-233.
ai
Louis Bouyer, Newman: Sa Vie. Sa Spiritualt.Les ditions du Cerf,
Paris, 1952, p. 315: "Vers les annes 1845, il faut dire qu'il n'y avait plus
de thologie catholique. Le foi du charbonnier, reposant sur des apologtiques
dlirants ou des systmatisations fantaisistes, c'est presque tout ce qu'on
peut trouver sous ce nom." Cf. R. Aubert, "Le Pontificat de Pie IX," in
Historie de l'glise, d. by Fliehe et Jarry, v. XXI, Bloud & Gay, Paris,
1952, ch. VIII, "Les sciences ecclsiastiques jusqu'au Concile de Vatican,"
p. 184 ff.
22
J. M. Neale, Life and Times of Patrick Torry, D.D., 1856, p. 224 f.
23
Palmer's Notes of a Visit (already quoted); An Appeal to the Scottish
Bishops and Clergy, and generally to the Church of their Communion,
Edinburgh, 1849 (published without the name of the author; gives the
full story of Palmer's negotiations in Russia up to the date of publication) ;
Roundell Palmer, Eari of Selborne, Memorials, Part I, Family and Personal,
1766-1865, vols. 1 & 2, London, 1896; Part II, Personal and Political,
v. 1, 1898 (by a brother of W. Palmer); Russia and the English Church,
etc., ed. by W. J. Birkbeck, London, 1895 (see below); Fr. Basile
Fortunatov, "Reminiscences of W. Palmer," in Doukhovnaia Beseda, 1867
(in Russian; contains some unpublished letters by Palmer); A. Mouraviev,
"Profession de foi de Palmer," in Question religieuse d'Orient et d'Occident,
. III, Paris; Frederick Meyrick, Memories of Life at Oxford, and Experiences
in Italy, Greece, Turkey, Germany, Spain and Elsewhere, New York, 1905,
p. 79 f. (M. went with Palmer to Greece) ; R. D, Middleton, Magdalen
Studies, S.P.C.K., 1936, chap, on Palmer, p. 99-114; cf. Shaw, The Early
Tractarians, chap, on the Palmer Episode, p. 150-176 (and Bibliography) ;
Bolsbkov, op. cit., 77 ff. (incomplete); S. Tyszkiewicz, S. J., "Un pisode
du mouvement d'Oxford: La mission de William Palmer," in tudes, v, 136,
1913. It is very probable that a review of Mouravieff's History of the
Church of Russia (translated by Blackmore, Oxford, 1842) in The Christian
Remembrancee, October, 1845, p. 241-331, was by Palmer: the Nikon episode
singled out and discussed at great length. In any case, it could be written
only by a person very well acquainted with the subject.
**First published only in 1864, in Russian, in Pravoslavnoe Obozrenie
[The Orthodox Review], and again in the 2nd volume of Khomiakov's
Works, Prague, 1867. English translation (by an unknown person), Bruxelles,
1864; another translation by W. J. Birkbeck, in his Russia and the English
Church, ch. XXIII, p. 192 ff. New edition, S.P.C.K., 1948. Two German
translations should be mentioned: by Baroness v. Rahden, Berlin, 1870, and
in the anthology, estliches Christentum, ed. by Hans Ehrenberg and N. v.
Bubnoff, v. II, Mnchen, 1923.
^See Khomiakoff : L'glise Latine et 'Protestantisme au point de vue de
l'glise d'Orient, Lausanne et Vevey, 1872,several articles, written in
French by the author and published originally in various periodicals.
6
Khomiakov's letters to Palmer were first published in Russian, in
Pravoslavnoe Obozrenie, 1896, with notes by Fr. A. M. Ivantzov-Platonov.
The full text in English in Birkbeck, Russia and the English Church, London,
1895,; and. in Russian in the Collected Works of Khomiakov, v. II, 4th ed.
Moscow, 1900. His essay on the Church, "The Church Is One," first pub-
lished in Russian in Pravoslavnoe Obozrenie, 1864, and again in the Collected
Works, v. II, Prague, 1867. English translation in Birkbeck, ch. XXIII; an
earlier translationby an unknown authorBruxelles, 1864; there is a new
edition of B.'s translation, S.P.C.K., 1948. Two German translations should
be mentioned: by Baronesse v. Rahden, Berlin, 1870, and in the anthology,
"estliches Christentum," ed. by Hans Ehrenberg und N. v. Bubnoff, v. II,
Mnchen, 1923. Khomiakov's articles on the Western Communions, written
in French by himself and published in various periodicals, were republished
under the title: L'glise Latine et Protestantisme au point de vue de
}
glise
d'Orient, Lausanne et Vevey, 1872. On Khomiakov, see the literature given
in . 24.
27
"Letters" of the V. Rev. E. J. Popov on the Religious Movements in
England are published by L. Brodsky in Kristianskoe Chtenie [The Christian
Lecture"], 1904, April, May, June, and 1905, June, July, September (they
cover the period from 1842 to 1862); cf. also "Materials concerning the
question of the Anglican Church," consisting of notes and letters of Fr. Popov
and Fr. Joseph Vassiliev (Russian Chaplain in Paris), 1863-1865, in the
same magazine, 1897, July and August. Fr. Popov was closely associated with
J. M. Neale.
28
The student was later Russian chaplain in Stuttgart, Fr. J. J. Bazarov; see
his "Memoirs," in Russkaja Starina [The Russian Old Age], 1901, February,
p. 300-301.
2
?The story in the text is told on the basis of Fr. Eugene Popov's letters
to the Chief Procurator, Count Pratassov, Kristianskoe Chtenie, 1904, May and
June. Several "Tracts on Christian Unity" seem to have been published in
1849, up to 1853; see also Reunion with the Eastern Church: A Few Words
in Defence of the Memorial addressed to the Russian Synod, London, 1851
(private edition; not available to the author).
30
"The true basis of Re-Union," Essays on the Reunion of Christendom,
by Members of the Roman Catholic, Orthodox and Anglican Communions,
edited by the Rev. F. G. Lee, D.C.L., London, 1867, p. 290-296. "The Editor
was assisted by an Orthodox layman and an Eastern Ecclesiastic in preparing
this statement for the press."
31
Liddon, Life of Pusey, v. IV, p. 134, n. 3.
32
See W. R. Churton, "The Rev. George Williams and his part in the
Reunion Movement, in Revue Internationale de Thologie, 1895, . III, 3
and 4, p. 538-552 and 690-702. Williams* book appeared in 1868 (see
above).
33
John Octavius Johnson, Life and Letters of Henry Parry Liddon, London,
1904, p. 100 f. To W. Bright he wrote about the services: "there was an
aroma of the fourth century about the whole." The New Testament was
widely circulated among the people. Liddon's interest in rapprochement was
stimulated by his apprehension in view of an alarming growth of unbelief in
Europe. It may be noted that Philaret in his talk with Liddon strongly
criticized Newman's essay on "Development."
34
See Bp. Eden's preface to the English translation of Romanism in Russia,
by D. Tolstoy, London, 1874, v. I, p. viii-ix; also, R. Eden, Impressions of a
recent Visit to Russia. A Letter . . . on Intercommunion with the Eastern
Orthodox Church, London, 1867.
35
Dr. J. L. Ver Mehr, Rector of the first formally organized Episcopalian
parish at San Francisco, Grace Church (1850-1853), relates in his Auto-
biography the following conversation with another Anglican minister in the
area, the Rev. Flavel S. Mines: " The Russo-Greek Church,' said he, 'is
perhaps nearer to the true organization of the Catholic Church than any. How
would it do to get Episcopacy from them?' . . . 'At any rate/ said I, 'we
ought to call a convention of what there are of clergy and responsible laity
in California, and organize. We then may call a bishop, whether from the
East or from the West.' " Quoted in William Stevens Perry, Bishop of Iowa,
The History of the American Episcopal Church 1587883, v. II, Boston, 1885,
p. 314, n. 2. As Bishop W. I. Kip, the first bishop in California, stated, "the
early founders of th Church on this coast had no idea of uniting with the
General Church in the East." They wanted "the Church in California." A
convention was held in 1850, and Bishop Horatio Southgate, early missionary
in the Levant, was invited to become the bishop. He declined the offer, and
not until 1853 was a missionary bishop appointed by the General Convention
(to become a regular Diocesan in 1857). Quoted in Perry, 314 and 315.
Cf. An Outline History of The Episcopal Church, by the Rt. Rev. Frank E.
Wilson, D.D., Bishop of Eau Claire, 1929-1944. Revised by the Rev. Edward
R. Hardy, Jr., Ph.D.; Morehouse-Gorham Co., New York, 1949, p. 46.
Ajournai of the Proceedings of the Bishops, Clergy and Laity of the
P.E.C. in the U.S.A., 1862, p. 100 f., l6l f.
37
See "Report of the Russo-Greek Committee" in the Journal of the
Proceedings in 1865 (Boston, 1865), Appendix D, p. 325-342; cf. letters of
Popov in Kristianskoe Chtenie, August, 1897.
38
Russian material on this episode: letters of various persons to Philaret,
in Letters of the clerical and lay persons to the Metropolitan Philaret of
Moscow, 1812-1867,. ed. by A. N. Lvov, St. Petersbourg, 1908, p. 192 f.,
342 f., 349 f., 623 f.; Philaret's Memorandum in the Collection of Comments
and Replies, v. V, p. 537 ff.; his statement on Anglican Orders in Pravo-
slavnoe Obozrenie (The Orthodox Review), 1866. See also Journal of the
Proceedings in 1865, p. 107, 117, 127, 203.
39
Oxford edition of Pearson, 1797, is quoted in The Christian Remem-
brancer, p. 502: "Exposition of the Creed," Article VIII, note r, v. II, 407.
In the Bonn's Library edition it is note I on p. 494 (actually on p. 495).
In fact, Pearson felt that both sides in the controversy were guilty of
intransigeancy: the addition was unlawful, but the doctrine was not
heretical, as the Greeks contended.
40
Pusey, Eirenikon, p. 248 ff. Cf. the unsigned review of Eirenikon in The
Christian Remembrancer, January, 1866. The clause has been "insensibly and
unintentionally" circulated in the whole of the Western Church. There is
no real heresy in it. The English Church had nothing to do with the Great
Schism of the East and West. The clause therefore should not be an
impediment or obstacle for the restoration of intercommunion, which is the
only real problem.
^Journal, 1868 (Hartford, 1869), p. 148, 169, 256, 258 f., 276, 421 f.,
484 f.
42
'Journal, 1871, Report of the Joint Committee, p. 564 ff. Cf. Karmiris,
Orthodoxy etc., p. 332 f. (references to the literature in Greek). The late
Archbishop Germanos regarded this action as "the first step towards the
rapprochement of the Churches in a purely Ecclesiastical matter.""Progress
towards the Reunion of the Orthodox and the Anglican Churches," in The
Christian East, v. X, No. 1, 1929, p. 23.
43
"Abstract of a Conference" at Ely was appended to the report of the
Russo-Greek Committee in 1871, Journal, 1871 (Hartford, 1872), p. 577 i-\
cf. p. 571 f. Report of Archbishop Lycurgos in Greek in the Evan geltkos
Kyrux, v. 2 (1870) and with English translation, separately, London, 1876;
cf. review in the Church Quarterly Review, v. Ill, p. 64-94; G. Williams,
A Collection of Documents relating chiefly to the Visit of Alexander, Arch-
bishop of Syros and Tenos to England in 1870, London, 1876; Skene, Life of
Alexander Lycurgos etc.; D. Balanos, "Archbishop A. Lykourgos," in Theologia,
v. I, 1923, p. 180-194 (in Greek); cf. Karmiris, p. 337 f.
^Journal, 1871, p. 197, 350 f., 355; Report of the Committee, p. 565 ff.
^Journal, 1874, Appendix X, p. 540 ff. Cf. reports of Bishop Bedell on
his negotiations with the "Oriental Churches," printed for the Joint Com-
mittee, 1875-1879.
46
Cf. Report of the Joint Committee, Journal, 1874, p. 548 ff.
47
Baader s book reprinted in his Smtliche Werke, ed. by F. Hoffmann, Bd.
X, s. 89-259- His other writings related to the same problem are collected
in vols. V and X of the same edition. Important material is also scattered in
his correspondence, partly in v. XVI of the Smtliche Werke, but especially in
the Lettres indits, recently published by E. Susini, v. I, Paris, 1942; vols. II
and III, Wien, 1951 (important" notes and commentaries). Cf. Benz, Die
abendlndische Sendung (Bibliography); Ernst Gaugier, Franz von Baaders
Kampf gegen die Alleinherrschaft des Papstes in der katholischen Kirche, in
I.K.Z., 1917, No. 3.
48
Dr. W. Guette, Souvenirs d'un prtre romain devenu prter orthodoxe,
Paris, 1889; cf. Meyrick, Memories, p. 181-182; Vassiliev, Letters front Paris
(1846-1867), d. by A. I. Brodsky, Petrograd, 1915 (in Russian); S. Soushkov,
Obituary of Guette, Tserkovny Vestnik, (The Ecclesiastical Messenger), 1890,
Nr. 22 and 23. Vassliev's Open Letter to the Bishop of Nantes and the
following discussion-^two pamphlets in .French, Paris, 1861; also his Open
Letter to Guizot. Cf. A. Kireev, "Der Oberpriester Joseph Wassilieff," in
Revue Internationale de Thologie, IV, 4, 1896 (also some excerpts from
his Correspondence with Bp. Jacqmet and a brief note by Michaud). See also
Jean-Remy Palanque, Catholiques libraux et Gallicans en France face au
Concile du Vatican (Aix-en-Provence, 1962); and Raoul Dederen, Un
reformateur catholique au XIXe sicle, Eugne Michaud, 1839-1917 (Genve,
1963).
49
Overbeck's Obituary, by Fr. . Smirnov, in Tserkovnye Vedomosti, 905,
No. 50 (in Russian); some additional biographical data were communicated
by Canon Edward Every, Jerusalem, who had at his disposal the unpublished
correspondence of Qverbeck with various persons. The more important
writings of Overbeck (his articles in The Orthodox Catholic Review not
included) are as follows: Die Orthodoxe Katholische Anschauung im
Gegensatz zum Papstthum und Jesuitismus, sowie zum Protestantismus, Halle,
1865; Die Providentielle Stellung des, Orthodoxen Russland und sein Beruf
zur Wiederherstellung der Rechts glaubt gen Katholischen Kirche des Abend-
landes, Halle, 1869; Die Rechtglubige Katholische Kirche. Bin Protest gegen
die ppstliche Kirche und eine Aufforderung zur Grndung katholischer
Nationalkirchen ,Halle, 1869; Die einzig sichere Ausweg fr die liberalien
Mitglieder der Rmisch-katholischen Kirche, Halle, 1870; Die Wieder-
vereinigung der Morgenlndischen und Abendlndischen Kirchen, Halle,
1873; Die Bonner Unions-Conferenzen, Halle, 1876; in English: Catholic
Orthodoxy and Anglo-Catholicism, A word about Intercommunion between
the English and Orthodox Churches, London, 1866; The Bonn Conference,
1873 and 1876. Anglican objectionsin the report of the Russo-Greek Com-
mittee, Journal, 1874, p. 553 ff. The text of the Patriarchal prohibition is
given in full (in translation, the Greek text in the "Neologos"). The basic
biography of Overbeck is by Wilhelm Kahle, Westliche Orthodoxie. Leben
und Ziele Julian Joseph Overbecks (Leiden-Kln, 1968).
50
Brief survey and analysis: Dr. Steinwachs, "Die Unionsbestrebungen im
Altkatholizismus," in the International Kirchliche Zeitschrift, 1911, Hf. 2
and 4. For the early period of the Movement one should consult the minutes
("Verhandlungen") of the Congresses and information in the Deutscher
Merkur. Bericht ber die Unions-Konferenzen 1874 and 1875, ed. by Dr. H.
Reusch, Bonn, 1874, 1875; English translationsReunion Conference at Bonn,
1874, Rivingtons, London, 1874; Report of the Union Conferences...,
translated by The Rev. S. Buel, with a Preface by The Rev. R. J. Nevin, New
York, 1876. "Theses" of Bonn repeated in the Appendix to the Report of
the Doctrinal Commision (appointed by the Lambeth Conference of 1930),
1930. Cf. (an unsigned article) "The Reunion Conferences at Bonn," in
the Church Quarterly Review, v. I, 1875-76, p. 383-407; "The Filioque Con-
troversy and the Easterns," ibid., . Ill, 1877-78, p. 421-465 (in connection
with the books by Pusey and Swete). There was a French edition of the
Process-Verbaux of the meetings of the Russian Society of Friends* etc.
("Socit des Amis de l'instruction religieuse"), several issues, Bruxelles,
1872 ff. Important information is to be found in Meyrick's Memories of
Life, p. 259 ff,. Meyrick was deeply impressed by the Russian delegates at
Bonn: astonishing command of languages and a surprising erudition, equal to
that of Dollinger. Cf. Correspondence between members of the Anglo-
Continental Society and (1) Old Catholics, (2) Oriental Churchmen. .., ed.
by the Rev. Frederick Meyrick, M.A., Rivingtons, London, 1874. Cf. reports
to the Synod of Athens by Professor Rhossis (1876) and Professor Damalas
(1875)in Greek. On Pusey's position see Liddon, Life of Pusey, v. IV,
p. 292 ff. Pusey contended that Filioque could be found in Epiphanius and
St. Cyril of Alexandria; see in the Preface the Commentary on the Gospel
according to St. John, by St. Cyril (in the Library of the Fathers), edited by
Philip E. Pusey,a large part of it written by E. B. Pusey (Liddon, p. 432).
Cf. . Michaud, "L' tat de la question du Filioque aprs la Conference de
Bonn de 1875," in Revue International, III, I, 1895; Kireev and Meyrick, ibid.;
Kireev, "Erklrungen von Professor Ossinin in Mnchen und Bonn" (1871
und 1875), ibid., IV, 2, 1896, . 489-501; J. Ossinin, An Eastern View of
the Second Conference at Bonn, English translation, Boston, 1876; "Briefe
von Dllinger, Reinkens, Weber, . Schulte and General Kirejew," ed. by
D. N. Jakschitsch, in Internationale Kirchliche Zeitschrift, XIX, 1 a. 2, 1929.
"Quelques lettres du General Kireev au Professeur Michaud sur Ancien-
Catholicisme," 1893 (cf. J. H. Morgan, "Early Orthodox-Old Catholic Rela-
tions," General Kireev and Professor Michaud, in Church Quarterly Review,
1951). See an interesting open letter by Ivan Aksakov to Dllinger in the
very beginning of the Old Catholic Movement"Brief an Dllinger von
Einem Laien der Russischen Orthodox Kirche aus Moskau," Berlin, 1872,
p. 39: it is not enough to denounce the Vatican Council, as innovations do not
begin only in 1870"Filioque," Tridentinum; is a Catholic remnant possible,
as an ecclesiological formation?
51
Brief survey in the article of Steinwachs (see n. 50). One can follow
the course of negotiations and discussions in the articles and chronicle of
the Revue Internationale (1893-1910) and Internationale Kirchliche Zeitschrift
(since 1911). Summary of Kerensky by Kireev, R.I.Th., Ill, 1895, 2. Bishop
Sergius, "Qu'est-ce qui nous spar des anciens-catholiques," ibid., XII, 1,
1904, p. 159-190. Extracts from the articles by Svetlov: "Zur Frage der
Wiedervereinigung der Kirchen und zur Lehre von der Kirche," ibid., XIII,
2 a. 3, 1905; cf. his Russian book, The Christian Doctrine, v. I, Kiev, 1910,
p. 208 ff. "Theses" of Bolotov (unsigned)R.I.Th., VI, 4, 1898, p. 681-712
(Russian textfrom the manuscriptin Khristianskoe Chtenie, 1913,
May; cf. A. I. Brilliantov, "Bolotov's Works concerning the question of the
Filioque and Polemics against his 'Theses' in Russian literature," ibid., April.
On Kireev: Olga Novikoff, Le General Alexandre Kireev et I'aricien-
catholicisme, Bern 1911. "Materials on the History of the Old Catholic
problem in Russia" (Letters of Janyshev to Kireev and of Kireev to Arch-
bishop Nicolai-one time in Americawith notes by Professor J. P. Sokolov),
in Khristianskoe Chtenie, 1911, May, June, and November. Bibliographical
survey of the literature on Old Catholicism in Russianin an article by A.
Triumphov, in Strannik [The Pilgrim'], 1913, July-August. See an interesting
letter of Professor Kyriakos to Michaud, in R.I.Th., XIII, 4, 1905, in which
he describes the situation in Greece and states his own point of view: "selon
moi, vous n'avez pas besoin d'tre reconnus comme glise Orthodoxe par
aucune autre glise; vous tes orthodoxes ipso facto." He adds that the same
will be true of the Anglican Church, when it repudiates the Articles (p. 720).
But the majority were of another opinion, as was Patriarch Joachim III. An
earlier Encyclical by Patriarch Anthimos in translation in R.I.Th., IV, 1,
1896; cf. the letter of the Patriarch to Professor Michaud, ibid., IV, 2. Cf. on
Janyshev and his participation in the conversations with Old Catholics the
article by Professor J. P. Sokolov, in Khristianskoe Chtenie, 1911, February.
52
Resolution and relevant passages from the Lambeth reports collected in
The Christian East, XI, 2, Summer 1930,"Previous Lambeth Conferences
and the Orthodox East," p. 73-76 (based on The Six Lambeth Conferences,
London, S.P.C.K.).
53
The whole story is told by W. J. Birkbeck: Birkbeck and the Russian
Church, Containing Essays and Articles by the late W. J. Birkbeck, collected
and edited by Athelstan Riley, London & New York, 1917, Chapter I; cf.
also Life and Letters of W. J. Birkbeck, by his wife, with a preface by
Viscount Halifax, Longmans, 1922; cf. The Life of Edward White Benson,
sometime Archbishop of Canterbury, by his son, A. C. Benson of Eton
College, v. II, London, 1899, p. 155 ff. (based on information supplied by
Mr. Riley).
54
See Birkbeck and the Russian Church for facts. Cf. Life and Letters of
Mandell Creighton, D.D., Oxon. and Cam., Sometime Bishop of London, by
his wife, 2 vols. London, 1905. In English: One Chapter from an Enquiry
into the Hierarchy of the Anglican Episcopal Church, by Sokolov, The Church
Printing Co., London; The Question of Anglican Orders, in respect of the
"Vindication" of the Papal Decision, by A. Bulgakoff, Church Historical
Society, S.P.C.K., London, 1899 (translated by Birkbeck).
^Previous Lambeth Conferences, p. 76-79.
*
6
Life of Bishop John Wordsworth, by E. W. Watson, Longmans, 1915,
p. 217 ff., 339 ff On his return to England, Bp. Wordsworth delivered a
lecture at the summer school of Clergy at Oxford, July 27, 1898, which was
then published: "The Church of England and the Eastern Patriarchates,"
Oxford, Parker, 1898, p. 38.
57
The Russian Synodal "Epistle" was first published in English translation
in The Guardian, August 28 and September 2, 1903, and is reprinted in
Birkbeck and the Russian Church, ch. XX, p. 247-257; Birkbeck's comments
in the following chapter, 258 ff.
5e
J. A. Douglas^ The Relations of the Anglican Churches tvith the Eastern-
Orthodox, especially in regard to Anglican Orders, London, 1921, p. 17.
^Douglas, p. 66 f.The recent summary of the doctrine of "Economy"
is by Professor H. S. Alivisators: Economy according to the Canon Law of
the Orthodox Church, Athens, 1949 (in reek); some "extracts" from this
book in English in Dispensation in Practice and Theory, S.P.C.K., 1944,
p. 27 ff. More comprehensive is the monograph by Jeronymus I. Kotsonis
(one time Archbishop of Athens), The Problems of "Ecclesiastical Economia"
(Athens, 1957; in Greek; a French translation exists).
60
Douglas, p. 16-17.
81
Quoted in Revue Internationale, X, 2, 1902; The Guardian, November
16,1904.
^Previous Lambeth Conferences, p. 79-81.
9s
The Works of Rt. Rev. Charles C. Grafton, ed. by . Talbot Rogers,
Longmans, 1914: v. VI, "Fond du Lac Tracts," VI, "The Reunion of
Orthodox and Anglican Churches," p. 326 ff.; v. IV, "A Journey Godward"
(a kind of autobiography), on Pusey, etc., p. 407 ff.; on the Russian visit,
252 ff; letters to Metropolitan Anthony, 259-270. Cf. . Talbot Rogers,
"Bishop Grafton and the Eastern Orthodox Church," in Int. Kirchl. Zeitschrift,
1916, 3, and note by R. K. (Keussen) in the same issue, 350-351.
64
The "Report" was published in the Alcuin Club Tracts, by W. J. Barnes
and W. H. Frere, with valuable notes by the latter, Mowbray's, 1917, and
once more in The Orthodox Catholic Review, v. I, Nr. 6, June, 1927,
Brooklyn, N.Y.
W
A. C Headlam, Teaching of the Russian Church, Rivingtons, London,
1897; "Eastern Church Association," Annual Reports, 1893-1910; Anglican
and Eastern-Orthodox Union, Reports of 1906-1914, Berryman, London;
American Branch, Reports, 1908-1914, The Kane Press, New York; Society
of the Friends of Reunion between the Eastern-Orthodox and Anglican
Churches. Materials and Reports, 1906-1910, St. Petersburg, 1912 (in Russian).
See also Karmiris, 344 ff. On Birkbeck see the Obituary by Professor
Glubokovsky, in The Constructive Review, V, 3, 1917, p. 568-592. In an
earlier issue of the same magazine there was an instructive article by Arch-
bishop Platon, of North America, "Admitting All Impossibilities, Nevertheless
Unity is Possible," I, 3, Sept., 1913.
*
6
The Anglican and Eastern Churches. A Historical Record, 1914-1921,
London, S.P.C.K., 1921,esp. p. 27 ff., including a survey by Dr. S.
Runkevitch: "The Russian Church in the years 1915-1918"; Resolution of the
Council, p. 43-44. Cf. excerpts from letters by Fr. Puller, in th Report of
the A.E.O.C.U., American Branch, 1912, p. 63-67. In connection with the
conversations at St. Petersburg in 1912, see an article on the Anglican Ordina-
tions by Professor I. P. Sokolov, in Khristianskoe Chtenie, February, 1913.
^"Correspondence of Archbishop Anthony with their representatives of
the Episcopal Church in America," in Vera i Razum {Faith and Reason},
1915 and 1916, in Russian translation from the French (Original letters are
not among the papers of Gardiner, kept now in General Theological Seminary,
New York). Cf. R. Gardiner, "Les glises orientales et la World Conference"
Int. Kirchl. Zeitschrift, 1919, 3, p. 234-253; Archimandrite Hilarion, "The
Unity of the Church etc.," in Bogoslovsky Vestnik [The Theological Mes-
senger}, January, 1917, p. 3-60. Cf. S. Troitsky, "The World Conference on
Faith and Order," in Tserkovnyie Vedomosti, 1915, Nr. 14 and 15 (a letter
of Gardiner to the author is given here in Russian translationfrom French).
68
Soloviev: La Russie et l'glise Universelle, Pt is, A. Savine, 1889;
English translation, Russia and the Universal Churcfo, London, Centenary
Press, 1948; the book was originally written in French. No less important
are various writings of Soloviev in the eighties, especially the Preface to The
History and the Future of Theocracy, dealing with the idea of "Dogmatic
development" (In his Complete Worksin Russianvols. Ill and IV). Cf.
Monarchia Sancti Petri. Die Kirchliche Monarchie des heiligen Petrus als
freie und universelle Theokratie im Lichte der Weisheit. Aus den Hauptwerken
von Wladimir Solowjew, systematisch gesammelt, bersetzt und erklrt von L.
Kobilinski-Ellis, Mainz-Wiesbaden, 1929; also Bernhard Schultze, Russische
Denker, Herder, Wien (1950). On Soloviev: D. Stremooukhoff, "Vladimir
Soloviev et son Oeuvre Messianique," Paris, 1935 {Publications de la Facult
des Letter es de l'Universit de Strassbourg, Fase. 69), with an abundant
bibliography; Ludolf Muller, Solovjev und der Protestantismus, Herder,
Freiburg, 1951, with a "Nachwort" by Dr. Wl. Szylkarski, from a Roman
Catholic point of view; cf. Muller's Offener Brief an Herrn Szylkarski, als
Erwiderung auf sein Nachwort zu meinem Buche . . . (Mimeogramm).

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ASPECTS OF CHURCH HISTORY

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Nineteenth Century Ecumenism 261

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