World_Religions

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PART I

CHRISTIANITY

Russian Orthodox Church

Although the Russian Orthodox Church marked the millennium of its foundation in 1988 this was an extended process, which began a century or more earlier. Byzantine sources speak of a Russian diocese established by the patriarchate of CONSTANTINOPLE as early as 867. So momentous a development, declared Patriarch PHOTIOS (circa 810 – circa 895), demonstrated that the warlike Russians could now be considered “subjects and friends” of the Byzantine Empire. By 874, these “subjects and friends” had clearly gained sufficient status to be accorded an archbishop, although the location of his seat remains unclear.

The evidence of early Russian Christianity is scant; all the more gratifying, then, to learn of Russian Christians acting as co-signatories of a RussoByzantine treaty in 944. Some may have acted as supporters for the Kievan princess Ol’ga when she decided to link herself, and therefore, potentially, her subjects, with the Byzantine world by accepting baptism in Constantinople circa 960. This was the first such symbolic act at her level of society, but it was not to meet with favour among her immediate successors. A determined pagan revival in the Kievan realm over the succeeding twenty-five years is reported in the later chronicles of KIEV and there is some archaeological evidence to support this.

In the event, Ol’ga’s policy prevailed. By the end of the tenth century the Kievan elite was driven to accept that the economic, political, cultural and spiritual welfare of the Russian state could no longer be assured unless alliances were made with one of its monotheistic neighbours. These adhered to Islam, to Judaism or to Christianity, in either its Roman or its Byzantine form. According to the stylized account in the Russian Primary Chronicle (probably completed by A.D. 1116) the ruler of the day, Vladimir or Volodimer, sent envoys to each of the relevant religious centres, asking for each to be assessed. Their unqualified preference was for the religion of Constantinople. “We know only that God abides there among them and their worship is superior to that of any other lands”, they reported after attending Hagia Sophia. “For we cannot forget that beauty”. Some might think the narrative hardly more than a literary device. Nevertheless it prompted some historians to read into it a predisposition of the Russian people to treat beauty as a path to revelation.

Be that as it may, Vladimir duly accepted baptism (988) as part of a package deal with the Byzantine authorities, which involved urgent military support for the latter. More important, it promoted Russia’s assimilation to the Byzan-

tine world. Thus the infant Russian church was to receive not only its hierarchy, but also its doctrine, liturgy, canon law, art and music from the Byzantine patriarchate, a dependency of which it remained for six centuries.

The conversion of Vladimir’s people was accelerated by use of force. The pace of consequent acculturation was also swift, revealing the recipients’ readiness to benefit therefrom. Acculturation and conversion were in turn abetted by the use of Church Slavonic for the translation of scriptural, liturgical, legal and literary texts. Both the new “Cyrillic” alphabet and an imported corpus of translated work derived ultimately from the ninth-century mission of CYRIL AND METHODIUS to Moravia, with Bulgaria, presumably, as Russia’s intermediary for them. Whether Bulgarian clergy made a direct contribution to the Kievan conversion process remains unclear. The contribution may have been of some importance. But the Priselkov hypothesis (1913) that the late tenth-century diocese of Russia was directly administered from OHRID is generally discounted.

A Byzantine metropolitan of all Rus took his seat in Kiev no later than 1037. Initially, the metropolitans were almost invariably Greek by origin and speech, though later Greek and Russian primates appear to have alternated. For almost as long as the Byzantine Empire lasted, the metropolitan was to be its agent. He was therefore capable of adopting an independent stance vis-à-vis the local rulers when required. There were seven dioceses under his supervision in the early period, rising to fifteen by the midthirteenth century. Until the end of that century, Kiev was the actual primatial see, and remained the metropolitan’s nominal seat even when displaced by the cities of VLADIMIR (1300) and then MOSCOW (1308). Only when Kiev fell under Polish-Lithuanian rule did the metropolitan adopt the title “of Moscow and all Rus” (1458). A separate metropolitanate of Kiev was established that same year under Roman auspices, later coming once more under Constantinople (1470), but the coherence of the original metropolitanate was not re-established thereby.

Some monastic foundations date back to the early eleventh century, if not earlier. The most influential, the Kievan Caves monastery, was founded in 1051. Generally the monasteries adhered to the Studite rule, borrowed from Constantinople. By 1240 there were no fewer than sixty-eight monastic foundations. By contrast with foundations of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the early monasteries were almost invariably urban in location, well placed to contribute to the educational, cultural and philanthropic life of their secular environment. They also produced role models for the spiritual life, several of whom, like Feodosii, abbot of the Kievan Caves monastery itself (1091), were later canonized. But the first saints to gain national recognition (1072) were two young princes, Boris and Gleb, the “PASSION BEARERS”, who chose to die as followers of Christ rather than to resist violence. Many Russian saints were to be canonized over the succeeding centuries; no fewer than thirty-nine were

added to the CALENDAR at the church councils of 1547 and 1549. The recognition of the early saints suggested a precocious maturity in the life of the newly founded local church.

The stability of the young church was severely tested by the Mongol invasion. Vladimir was sacked in 1238, Kiev two years later. This was the fate of almost every Russian city except NOVGOROD. More than two centuries were to pass before Mongol suzerainty was brought to an end. In the immediate aftermath of the invasion preachers, such as Metropolitan Kirill of Kiev and Bishop Seraption of Vladimir, saw the cataclysm as a punishment from God. Nevertheless, church leaders soon learnt that unsought and unprecedented gains could now accrue to the church. By 1257 it had become evident that the Mongol conquerors were to levy taxes on all and sundry, with exemptions for church property and personnel alone. Such was the Mongols’ toleration of religious bodies, however alien to themselves. Thus the period of Mongol rule witnessed a marked increase in the prosperity and status of the church. Not unrelated is the flowering of Russian ICON painting at this time, reaching its apogee in the work of Andrei RUBLEV (circa 1360–1430) and his contemporaries. Not unrelated also is the increase in the number and influence of monasteries and monastic land-holdings, much of this involving outreach into virgin lands. No less important were the spiritual achievements of monastic elders like SERGIUS of RADONEZH (1314–1392) and Nil of Sora, inspired by the reception of HESYCHAST teachings from ATHOS and the Byzantine world at large.

Nil is remembered also for his firm opposition to monastic land-holdings of any kind, an opposition which initially found favour with the land-hungry state authorities of the day. Monastic accumulation of tax-exempt properties and economic power was favoured by another and more prominent school of monks, the “possessors”. Their most effective spokesman was Iosif of Volotsk (1439–1515). Under the auspices of such possessors, ambitious programmes of charitable work could be effectively promoted. For the present, the state decided to align itself with the possessors and to refrain from interference with inherited immunities. Nevertheless, such immunities were to be increasingly challenged, notably at the church councils of 1580 and 1584 .

In the same period, Muscovite diplomacy and duplicity scored a palpable success. In 1589, with the reluctant consent of the patriarch of Constantinople, the Russian metropolitanate was elevated to the dignity of a patriarchate, fifth in seniority among the patriarchates of the East. This confirmed its hitherto selfdetermined status as an “autonomous” church (1448). It also compensated for the fall of Constantinople to the OTTOMANS (1453), and the associated diminution of its ecclesial standing from the Russian point of view. Indeed, there were Russians who argued at the turn of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries that two Romes, Rome proper and Constantinople, the New Rome, had already

fallen, while Moscow, the THIRD ROME, had displaced them, and for ever. One thing was sure: Moscow was now alone among the EASTERN ORTHODOX patriarchates in being free of Islamic rule.

Not that the first ROME was to be discounted in determining the status and orientation of the Russian church. The 1448 decision about autonomy had been taken in the aftermath of a crisis brought about by Isidor, metropolitan of Moscow (1436–1441). The Moscow establishment, church and state alike, had spurned his initiatives in furthering formal reunion of the Eastern and Western churches at the Council of Ferrara/FLORENCE (1438–1439). Isidor had been deposed and the reunion nullified.

By 1458 the southern metropolitanate of Kiev was taking a different view of the matter and accepted the decisions of the Ferrara/Florence council for a time. In due course, being under Polish-Lithuanian rule, the southern metropolitanate accede to a further union with Rome, which was signed ah Brest (1596). The resulting UNIATE church, even when it was in conflict with the local Orthodox population, was still in a position to exercise an influence on the latter, affecting among other things its theological vocabulary, its iconography and its worship. As Muscovy and Ukraine entered into increasingly close relations during the second half of the seventeenth century and the metropolitanate of Kiev came under Moscow’s jurisdiction in the years 1685–1687, the influence of Ukrainian clergy in the Russian church tended to increase. Notable as a channel of this influence was a pioneer school of higher education in the Muscovite realm, the Helleno-Greek Academy (1685). Here was the starting point for the later theological academies of Kiev (1701), St Petersburg (1797), Kazan (1797) and Sergiev Posad (1814).

Yet there was also an ingrained reluctance among the Orthodox to accept Western influences in church life, or indeed at all. A spokesman of the orthodox resistance was Patriarch Filaret of Moscow (circa 1554–1634), who had himself been imprisoned by the Catholic Poles for eight years prior to his enthronement in 1618. Opposition to all Western influences was to be most firmly expressed in that conservative milieu which gave rise to the Old Ritualist (OLD BELIEVERS) movement halfway through the century.

Patriarch Filaret, father and mentor of the first Romanov tsar, sought a prominent role in church and state alike. He adopted the title Great Lord. One of his successors, NIKON (1605–1681), insisted that the title spoke of the church’s pre-eminence in church-state relations. This went further than the Byzantine theory of “symphony” between the two spheres, reaffirmed at the Moscow church council of 1551. Nikon was opposed by the tsar, deposed (1659) and disgraced (1666). His failure to assert and safeguard the primacy of the church paved the way for the subjugation of the church administration to the bureaucracy of Peter the Great in the eighteenth century.

Nikon is remembered also for the liturgical reforms, which he vigorously promoted in an over-ambitious attempt to bring Russian practice into line with Greek. Well-intentioned though they were, these reforms were widely regarded as heretical and alienated large numbers of the faithful, many of whom, like the archpriest AVVAKUM Petrov (1621–1682), went to the stake rather than accept their legitimacy. Thus was born that schismatic Old Ritualist movement, which, with its various sub-divisions, has not yet been reintegrated with its parent church.

At the death of Patriarch Adrian (1700), the role of patriarch was consciously allowed to lapse. Peter the Great placed his hopes successively on two church leaders of markedly Protestant orientation, Metropolitan Stefan Iavorskii (1658–1722) and Archbishop Feofan Prokopovich (1681–1736). It was the latter who provided much of the text for Peter’s Ecclesiastical Regulations (1720), which determined how the Russian church was administered until the fraught summer of 1917. Although it concerned the structure of a church with pronounced conciliar traditions, the text was drawn up in camera at the emperor’s behest.

The same emperor nominated his own representative as supervisor of the new governing body of the Russian church, the Holy Synod. No matter how many bishops of that synod subsequently validated them their signatures, the new regulations accorded the signatories themselves little more than titular status. Appropriately enough, the title of the synod’s senior civil servant was given in plain German: Oberprokuror; for the Lutheran G.W. Leibnitz (1646– 1716) was the ultimate source of much of the regulations’ text. The church’s administration now took the form of a government department. No longer was there any question of symphony between church and state, still less of state subordination to the church.

In 1762–1764, soon after Catherine the Great’s accession, the church was deprived of extensive land-holdings and, with them, of over 2 million serfs. The church’s economic dependence on the state now matched its administrative subjugation. A symbol of this subjugation was metropolitan Arsenii Matseevich of Rostov (1696–1776), whose protests against these actions of the state led to his demotion and imprisonment.

Monasteries were among the bodies hardest hit under the new dispensation. But this did not prevent a fresh flowering of the spiritual life in the monastic milieu by the turn of the eighteenth century. Most influential in its promotion was the elder PAISSII VELICHKOVSKII (1722–1794). His partial translation into Slavonic (1793) of the recently completed PHILOKALIA provided this revival with its textbook. Paissy is remembered also for his advocacy of the JESUS PRAYER and his validation of the informal institution of the monastic elder or STARETS. For much of his life the Ukrainian Paissii lived on the pe-

riphery of the Russian empire, on Athos and in Moldavia. But his influence was to be felt in many Russian monasteries, especially Optina Pustyn’. Among Optina’s renowned startsy were Leonid Nagolkin (1768–1841), Makarii Ivanov (1788–1860) and Amvrosii Grenkov (1812–1891). No less important was their radiant contemporary at Sarov, SERAPHIM (1759–1833).

Optina’s influence was spread also through its publications, including Russian translations of Greek patristic texts. Together with the serial publications initiated by the theological academies, translations such as these paved the way for the work of theologians, something notably lacking in centuries gone by. There were also original writers, such as the Slavophile A.S. KHOMIAKOV (1804–1860), who depended less on patristic sources than on early nineteenthcentury German and romantic though. In the process, Khomiakov helped to develop an ecclesiology centred on communality and catholicity, sobornost. With Khomiakov began a school of Russian religious thinkers, which included P.A. FLORENSKY (1882–1943) and S.N. BULGAKOV (1871–1944). By contrast, a return to patristic tradition was advocated by such theologians as G.V. FLOROVSKY (1893–1979) and V.N. Lossky (1903–1958). The Russian Revolution was to stifle the development of theological thought on Soviet soil, and Florensky ended his days in a Soviet forced labour camp. By contrast, the emigration to the West of outstanding theologians, among them Bulgakov, Florovsky and Lossky, acted as a stimulus to Western thinkers, not least in the ecumenical movements.

Until the Revolution of 1917, the Russian state sponsored Orthodox missionary activities in a variety of non-Russian territories linked to the empire by conquest or trade. There were missions in ALASKA (from 1794) and Japan (from 1861), not to mention the Zyrian, Tatar, Chuvash and Votiak areas of the empire’s landmass. Religious propaganda was at a discount after 1917, and in 1929 the right to any sort of religious propaganda was formally withdrawn.

In the early part of the twentieth century much thought was given to possible reform-structural, liturgical and social-of the established church. Many churchmen felt that there was room for a plenary council of the Russian church, the like of which had not been seen for two and a half centuries. But the work of an officially sponsored Pre-Conciliar Commission (1907) and a subsequent Pre-Conciliar Consultation (1911–1913) came to nothing. By the existing statutes only the tsar could convene such a council. Yet the tsar temporized and delayed its convocation until “a favourable time shall come”. Paradoxically, the professedly Orthodox monarchy needed to be brought to an end before the council could take place. When it finally assembled in the summer of 1917, its days were numbered and its promise curtailed. Among its decisions was that a patriarch be elected once again to lead and represent the church. But this was carefully qualified: the patriarch, together with his administration, was ulti-

mately answerable to the council itself. Three candidates were elected. The new primate was then chosen by lot. This fell on Tikhon Belavin (1865–1925), only recently elected as metropolitan of Moscow.

A Bolshevik decree of 23 January 1918, which brought about the separation of church from state in no way guaranteed the freedom of the church to act as it deemed fit, or even to survive at all. It was subjected to all kinds of indignities and constraints and simultaneously deprived of the rights of a person-at- law, as were all its clergy. With Tikhon began a remarkable line of martyrs and confessors. Confiscation and destruction of church property brought the secularization programme of Catherine II almost to completion. A distinct programme was organized for the confiscation of church valuables in 1921–1922, allegedly to combat famine; its covert aim was to bring the church into disrepute. In its aftermath, Patriarch Tikhon was arrested (1922) and the state sponsored ambitious pro-communist reformers to supplant him. This they proceeded to do at their own council of 1923. However, their schismatic and fragmented movement found increasingly less grassroots support. By the end of the Second World War it had vanished.

When he emerged from prison in 1923, the patriarch was required to affirm that he was “no longer an enemy of the Soviet government”. He reiterated this statement on the eve of his death. But there was no quid pro quo. Tikhon’s deputy Petr Polianskii was exiled and eventually shot (1936). The Soviet authorities were to demand a more abject declaration of loyalty than Tikhon’s from Metropolitan Sergii Stragorodskii (1861–1944) when they released him from prison and recognized his church administration (1927), a declaration ill received by the body of the church. In any case it brought only formal benefits, if any. Furthermore, it confirmed the suspicions of émigré churchmen, many of whom, under the leadership of Metropolitan Antonii Khrapovitskii (1873– 1936), had already formed an independent church administration, the Episcopal synod of the RUSSIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH ABROAD, in the early 1920s. Sergii’s declaration prompted yet others, led by Metropolitan Evlogii Georgievskii (1866–1946), to join the patriarchate of Constantinople (1913).

New Soviet laws of 1929 confirmed and extended restrictions on church life. The following decade witnessed the dissolution of the few remaining monasteries, the reduction of parish churches to a matter of hundreds and the imprisonment of millions. Anti-religious propaganda presented this “assault on heaven” as a beneficial piece of social engineering. Yet the census of 1937, at the height of the Stalin terror, elicited so positive a response to the question on belief in God that the result simply had to be suppressed.

The war of 1941–1945 proved a turning point in the modern history of the church. Stalin recognized the potential of the church to boost morale at home; he also saw the propaganda value of advertising “freedom of religion” to his al-

lies. In 1943 he allowed the designation of Metropolitan Sergii as patriarch and, more important, the eventual reopening of theological schools. Overt parish life was resumed, often emerging from the “catacombs”. At the same time, the revival of church life which the Germans had permitted in occupied regions was not simply nullified once the invaders were expelled.

Continued toleration of the church was conditional on its acceptance of a strictly delimited life, which concerned itself almost entirely with worship. In exchange it was required to offer its services in the diplomatic field and so participated in the World Peace Council (from 1949), the Christian Peace Conference (from 1958) and the World Council of Churches (from 1961). Not that the state honoured its reciprocal, albeit unpublished, obligations; rather, the period of Khrushchev’s ascendancy was marked by a return to overt persecution (1958–1964) and the closure of something like a half of the Orthodox churches then open. The patriarch of the post-war decades, Aleksii Simanskii (1877– 1970) uttered one dignified protest in public (1960), but otherwise maintained a sorrowful silence on the subject. All the more dignified, by contrast, were the dissident statements of Archbishop Ermogen Golubev (1896–1978) and the priests Gleb Iakunin and Nikolai Eshliman. Each in turn was marginalized by the church administration. Iakunin was subsequently imprisoned for his defence of believers’ rights (1979–1988). Throughout the decades the state sought to ensure that the church continued to be docile, inward-looking, loyal. It imposed its views through the agency of a governmental Council for Religious Affairs, founded in 1943, reorganized and renamed in 1965.

Contrary to expectations, the millennium of the Russian church (1988) helped to bring it out of its prevailing shadows. It was permitted to adopt new statutes, which offered greater freedom to its constituent parts. A new patriarch, Aleksii Ridiger, was elected, rather than appointed by agreement with the state (1989). By the end of communist rule (1991), the church was well placed to proceed with its programmes, which could now concern education, charity and mission. Its members swelled by many millions, since baptism was no longer monitored by the state.

This has had its drawbacks, since not all baptisms were necessarily the result of spiritual zeal. A church, which had become profoundly conservative in Soviet times as a defensive measure, has now become no less conservative by choice. Liberal clergy are at a discount. Some have been disciplined and even, as in the case of Iakunin in 1994, unfrocked. Anti-Semitism, an aberration of pre-revolutionary right-wing grouping in the Russian church, has sometimes been propagated. Various kinds of nationalism threaten at least the administrative unity of the Moscow patriarchate, most obviously in the newly independent UKRAINE. Whereas the present Russian constitution makes provision for a free church in a free state, the Moscow patriarchate would clearly prefer a

dominant role among the denominations and religions of the new Russia, even the status of an established church, as of old. Positive use has been made of many opportunities, and there is no longer a paucity of churches, monasteries or theological schools. But the hopes, which were previously entertained by many an observer for the purgation of the church by the trials of communism have yet to be sustained.

Russian Orthodox Church Abroad

Otherwise known as the Russian Church in Exile, the Russian Synod, the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia (ROCOR) and the Karlovtsians, the ROCA has played a disproportionately important role in the history of the church in the twentieth century for its size, now about 150,000 parishioners, 330 parishes and 24 monasteries in the DIASPORA. Originally formed as a group of south Russian bishops who found themselves in White-held territory and cut off from the patriarch in Moscow during the Russian civil war of 1919– 1921, ROCA received what it regards as a firm canonical foundation through ukaz no. 362 of the patriarch, the Holy Synod and the Higher Church Council dated 7/20 November 1920, which allowed bishops who found themselves out of communication with the higher church administration in Moscow to form autonomous groups of dioceses led by the eldest hierarch among them. The leader of the ROCA from 1919 to his death in 1936 was Metropolitan Antonii Khrapovitskii of Kiev.

At the end of the civil war, the ROCA emigrated from Russia together with the retreating White troops, eventually setting up headquarters in Karlovtsy, Serbia, as an autonomous administration under the protection of the Serbian church on the basis of canon 39 of the Sixth ECUMENICAL COUNCIL. The headquarters moved to New York after the Second World War. The church’s right to form such an administration was recognized in the beginning by all the AUTOCEPHALOUS churches except the Romanian. When, however, ROCA began to rebuke, first the Ecumenical Patriarchate for what it saw as imperialism at the expense of the Russian church and for what were claimed to be uncanonical innovations such as the new CALENDAR, and, from 1928, the Moscow patriarchate for what it condemned as submission to the communists, this recognition was gradually withdrawn by all except two local churches – the Serbian and Jerusalem patriarchates, with which ROCA remains in unofficial communion. In the 1960s ROCA came into communion with the True Orthodox (Old Calendar) Church of Greece; but divisions among the OLD CALENDARISTS meant that by 1995 the ROCA was in communion with only one branch of the Greek Old Calendarists, the “Cyprianites”, and with the Romanian Old Calendarists.

Although not in communion with the Moscow patriarchate, the ROCA always considered itself that part of the Russian Orthodox church which found

itself in freedom and able to speak the truth openly about the situation of the church inside Russia. A fierce critic of the Moscow patriarchate, which it claimed had submitted to the communists and was lying about the true situation of believers, ROCA championed the cause of the TRUE ORTHODOX or Catacomb Church of Russia, which broke away from the Moscow patriarchate in 1927–1928. Since the 1960s the ROCA has been a vociferous opponent of the World Council of Churches and the participation of Orthodox churches in it.

In 1981 the ROCA canonized the Holy New Martyrs and Confessors of Russia. This act and a significant impact in Russia and provided a stimulus to the revival of Orthodoxy in the Gorbachev years. Then, in 1983, the ROCA anathematized ECUMENISM, an act which has so far had less of an impact but which may well become more important as the anti-ecumenism movement in the Moscow patriarchate gathers pace.

In 1990 the ROCA decided that the time had come to return to the motherland and open parishes on Russian soil in direct opposition to the Moscow patriarchate. At first, this movement had considerable success, and many parishes from both the Moscow patriarchate and the Catacomb Church joined the ROCA, called in Russia the free Russia Orthodox Church (FROC). However, a variety of factors, determined opposition from the Moscow patriarchate and local political authorities, a questionable choice of bishops for the FROC and poorly managed relations with the Catacomb Church, most of which remains out of communion with the FROC, have contributed to a slowing in the growth of the movement. In February 1995 five FROC bishops broke away from communion with the ROCA, forming their own autonomous administration. It remains to be seen whether the ROCA can recover from this blow and fulfil its aim of becoming the focus of regeneration in the Russian Orthodox Church.

Russian religious philosophy

Reflection upon the religious dimension of human experience became prominent in Russian thought during the nineteenth century, though it had long existed in the form of saints’ lives and related writings issuing from the country’s strong monastic tradition.

Awareness of the need for a type of reflection which could accommodate the insights of Orthodox spirituality and which promoted the integral nature of the person, “wholeness”, “integrality” or in Russian tsel’nost, was expressed in a celebrated article by the Slavophile thinker Ivan Kireevskii (1806–1856) entitled “On the Necessity and Possibility of New Principles in Philosophy”.

Petr Chaadaev’s Philosophical Letters, written in 1829 and first published in 1836, had set in motion the increasingly acrimonious dispute that marked Russian polemical writings during the nineteenth century, between advocates of emulation of West European society, the Westernizers or zapadniki, and those

convinced that Russia possessed social structures and spiritual values, adherence to which would secure the nation’ welfare, the Slavophiles or slavyanofily. This dispute, still pursued in the post-Soviet era, amounted to a quarrel regarding what form of society, West European or Russian, provides the optimum conditions for the growth of the human personality (lichnost). These matters engaged the minds of religious and secular thinkers alike, and the debate extended into areas such as the philosophy of history, which has continued to be a prominent element in Russian thought, both in its religious and secular variants.

Russian religious philosophy came into its own with Vladimir SOLOVYOV (1853–1900), whose writing spanned the last quarter of the nineteenth century. In his person, his work and his preoccupations he exemplified some of the most characteristic positive features of Russian religious thought. These include an abiding concern with those values that honour and secure the growth of the human person in freedom; a keen awareness of the ethical dimension of social relations and organization; and strong measures of idealism and consistency in applying the tenets of Christian belief to problems of the contemporary world.

Solovyov was the first to provide anything in Russian philosophy approaching a coherent system. Highly competent in epistemology and metaphysics and uniquely well versed in the writings of Plato, the Neoplatonists and German idealism, Solovyov wrote numerous works which he intended to serve as the basis for a synthesis of religious and secular thought. He readily acknowledged the achievements of the most far-reaching and inspired preChristian philosophers, Plato in particular, but also set out the deficiencies of their systems from the traditional Christian point of view, aiming to present the agnostic and increasingly secularized Russian intelligentsia with sound reasons for re-examining the nature of Christian belief and values with a view to their adopting these, thus healing the serious rift between intelligentsia and people.

Solovyov’s reappraisal of Christian values, carried out after a brief but strong adherence to atheism in his youth, proved decisive for the direction taken by many, though not all, subsequent philosophers in Russia. A succession of gifted thinkers explored the common ground between philosophy and theology and wrote extensively, sharing many preoccupations.

Solovyov’s writings were the fruit of deep personal religious experience and, consequently, attach importance to experiential aspects of prayer and sacramental life of the church. As a lay believer with a particularly strong commitment to Christian values, he resembled other religious philosophers in Russia. Sergei BULGAKOV (1871–1944) and Pavel FLORENSKY (1882–1938) were exceptions in being clergy. The Russian Orthodox Church regarded some of Solovyov’s ideas with suspicion, even animosity. Vasilii Rozanov (1856– 1919) and Lev Shestov (1866–1938) were even further removed from the eccle-

siastical establishment than was Solovyov, yet they too pursued concerns that were religious and philosophical. The spiritual aspirations of the laity represent a singularly important element in Russian religious philosophy, and the laity’s fateful encounter in the mid-nineteenth century with west European secular ideas, radical socialism and utopianism was recorded in fictional form by Fedor Dostoevskii (1821–1881), whose contribution to religious thought is likely to endure longer than the influence of some Russian figures usually deemed theologians and philosophers.

Russian religious philosophy is distinctive in its reflections on All-Unity or Pan-Unity (Russian: vseedinstvo). Vladimir Solovyov, Sergei Bulgakov, Pavel Florensky, Semyon Frank (1877–1950) and Lev Karsavin (1882–1952) were the philosophers most concerned with this area of speculation. Based on a close reading of a large body of esoteric literature, including the works of the seven- teenth-century German mystic Jakob Boehme, the Russian philosophers’ purpose was to express the interrelatedness and interdependence of all forms of existence. They recognized this insight as expressed in iconographic form within their own spiritual tradition, and sought means to articulate it in a coherent and organic synthesis of theological, philosophical and scientific speculation. The title of Pavel Florensky’s The Pillar and Ground of Truth (1914) reveals the spirit and scope of the enterprise.

For Solovyov, Bulgakov and Florensky in particular All-unity was closely bound up with Sophia, the personification of DIVINE WISDOM, and the attendant symbolism they traced in the mystical literature from which they drew inspiration. Other thinkers in Russia (notably Semyon Frank) were less attracted to the Sophianic motif but nevertheless retained a strong emphasis upon the interrelatedness and interdependence of all forms of life. Their Slavophile precursors, and notably Alexei KHOMIAKOV (1804–1860), had underlined the importance in orthodox spirituality of sobornost, that is, the communality-in- freedom of believers in Christ.

Other prominent characteristics of Russian religious philosophy in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries have been its anthropocentric nature and, arising from this, its preoccupation with the application of ethical principles at all levels of the organization of society. This overriding concern has rendered some philosophical schemes particularly susceptible to utopianism, but, on the other hand, Russian philosophers have also proved able to discern the negative aspects of utopian thinking. Nikolai BERDIAEV (1874-1948), whose works in English, French and German translations reached a readership beyond his country and his place of exile, achieved fame largely through his writings on the false nature of secular utopias and of the social experiment then being conducted in the Soviet Union.

A further effect of the Russians’ concern with the ethical dimension has been the relative paucity of reflection on legal structures and systems and their role in social organization. That imbalance between the ethical and the legal has been referred to variously as ethical maximalism and legal nihilism, eticheskiy maximalism and pravovoy nigilism. It has numerous variants among religious and secular thinkers, notably among the Slavophiles, and rests upon the notion that ethical imperatives can be understood by the innermost and vital side of the human personality, whereas legal norms are imposed from outside and not infrequently conflict with the individual citizen’s intuition of what is morally acceptable. In their own different ways Dostoevskii and Tolstoy subscribed to this understanding of the relationship between ethics and law, and their ideas on this subject could justifiably be cited as instances of ethical maximalism.

Compared to philosophical traditions in other countries, the Russian tradition has placed relatively little emphasis upon epistemology as distinct from other branches of philosophy. In part, this is because Russians tended to value a broader synthesis of knowledge, in which faith also played a role, and worked in the spirit of German philosophers such as Friedrich Schelling. The tendency towards system-building was, however, firmly resisted by Lev Shestov, whose critical articles on Spinoza, Solovyov, Tolstoy and other figures put in question the very nature of the relationship between faith and reason and strongly denied the applicability of reason to the domain of religion. Shestov brought out the contrast by juxtaposing what he called the values of Athens and the values of Jerusalem; he heavily favoured “the God of Abraham and Isaac” rather than the abstract “God” of the philosophers and system-builders.

In the 1970s and 1980s, but especially since the demise of the Soviet Union in 1991, there has been a very marked resurgence of interest among Russians in this entire tradition of religious-philosophical speculation. The early 1990s have seen the publication in accessible editions of works by virtually all the noteworthy Russian philosophers of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Furthermore, this interest is reflected in scholarly and ecclesiastical journals. It remains to be seen whether this tradition of thought can or will become truly assimilated by a wider public whose education was completed in the years of Soviet rule.

Russian sects

Collective name conventionally given to a number of religious movements, the oldest of which, the Khlysty or Khristovoverie, goes back to the seventeenth century, the same period as the origin of the OLD BELIEVERS. Khlysty sought Christ’s spirit in the depths of their own souls rather than the rituals of the Orthodox Church, whose doctrine, traditions and authority they rejected, following leaders they called “Christs”. In the early centuries Khlysty and other sec-

tarians sometimes retained a certain degree of contact with the Orthodox Church and occasionally attended services. Their worship used song and dance to attain a state of ecstatic, Spirit-filled exaltation for which they prepared by fasting and ASCETICISM.

The Postniki (Easters), an austere, tightly organized group, separated off under the Christ Kopylov in the eighteenth century, then split in the midnineteenth century, producing the Old Israel and then circa 1885 the New Israel, each following a different Christ. The New Israel practiced the re-enactment of events in sacred history, sometimes with great numbers of participants. Many Postniki emigrated to Uruguay in 1911–1912.

The Skoptsy (Castrators) emerged from the Khlysty in the late eighteenth century. Led by the Christ Selivanov, who introduced the “baptism by fire”, they practised castration of males, which many women paralleled by cutting away their breasts.

In the late eighteenth century the Orthodox Archbishop Amvrosii of Ekaterinoslav denounced as Dukhobors (Spirit-Wrestlers) a group which had emerged in the mid-century in Ukraine and then come under the leadership in Amvrosii’s archdiocese of Silvan Kolesnikov. By the end of the eighteenth century the Dukhobors had become the objects of state persecution and oppression, and when in 1802 Tsar Alexander I offered to resettle Dukhobors in the Tavrida region in Crimea the long saga of Dukhobor migration and resettlement had begun. Other groups were to be resettled in Transcaucasia. Under the leadership of Savelii Kapustin the Tavrida Dukhobors severed all residual involvement in Orthodox religious rites, and practised a life of stern, upright morality. Their emphasis on pacifism, hard work and mutual help was put to a severe test when Nicolas I attempted to force military service and conversion to Orthodox on the Dukhobors. The demand for an oath of loyalty from all citizens of the empire in 1894 furnished the occasion for the great Dukhobor leader Peter Verigin (1859– 1924) to call for a refusal of the oath, a rejection of the power and authority of the state and of all forms of militarism, and a reformation of life involving vegetarianism and abstention from alcohol and tobacco. In 1895 a mass burning of weapons took place among the Dukhobors of the Caucasus, which led to further acts of repression. Eventually in 1897 the government gave the Dukhobors permission to emigrate and several thousand moved to Canada, where in 1903 Peter Verigin joined them. At first they were granted homesteads mainly in Saskatchewan, but when they refused an oath of allegiance imposed in 1905 were dispossessed, many moving to communally purchased land in British Columbia. The community divided into uncompromisingly traditionalist and more assimilationist groups.

At the heart of Dukhobor religion is a vivid sense of the presence of the Christ-spirit in all things, especially all living things. They refuse to treat the

Bible as an external authority, emphasizing rather the illuminating presence of God within the individual and the community. Christ is a sinless human being; he and other spiritual leaders they recognize differ from other human beings in the greatness of the divine spark illuminating him. Baptism was abandoned, together with the use of ICONS and all traditional forms of Orthodox worship, the priesthood, hierarchy and ecclesiastical law.

The Molokans (Milk-drinkers) or Spiritual Christians emerged in the same regions as the Dukhobors at a similar period. The formation of the community was strongly influenced by the leadership of Semen Uklein. Molokans, though friendly towards the Dukhobors and often similar in lifestyle, differ sharply from them in centring their religious observance on the authority of the Bible. Molokan communities traditionally attempted to maintain biblical dietary rules and had their own butches. Several divisions appeared in the community, the most significant between the Postoiannye, the “Steadfast”, who claim to represent the original Molokan tradition, and the Pryguny, the “Leapers”, named from the jumping, dancing movements used in their worship. The Leapers show great respect to the prophets within the community, who have a significant role in worship; The Spirit and Life is a collection of prophetic works, which the Leapers use in worship.

A number of Molokans emigrated to America, and there are several Molokan meeting houses on the west coast. The vast majority of Molokans remained in what became the USSR, where their communities withered under state oppression, but have now reemerged as visible worshipping communities, their known memberships now roughly similar to the number of America Molokans. A much smaller community migrated from America to Australia in the 1960s.

Molokan worship is characterized by the recognition of a variety of ministries or functions, elders, singers, readers, and, in some communities, prophets, each of whom has a distinct role to play in the service. Both Molokans and Dukhobors maintain a rich tradition of unaccompanied singing in worship, the Molokans in particular making great use of sing scriptural verses.

The doctrine, lifestyle and worship of the Russian sects often resemble those of religious movements, which emerged from the radical Reformation. They represent, however, distinctly Eastern Christian traditions of reform, and maintain a strong sense of ethnic identity.

PART II

JUDAISM

Although the religion, which we call Judaism today, has its roots in the ancient past, it is very different from the Biblical religion out of which it grew. We must make a distinction between Israelite (or Hebrew) religion and Rabbinic Judaism.

Israelite Religion

By this is meant the religion we find described in the Hebrew Scriptures or Hebrew Bible (which Christians call the Old Testament).

These books were composed over several hundred years, from about 900 B.C.* to about 100 B.C., the earliest being certain portions of the first five books, the Pentateuch, and the latest being the book of Esther. Not all of them had a directly religious origin, but they were subsequently given religious significance by being collected together into a single authoritative compilation.

The spirit of Israelite religion

It happened, late one afternoon, when David arose from his couch and was walking upon the roof of the king’s house that he saw from the roof a woman bathing; and the woman was very beautiful. And David sent and inquired about the woman. And one said, “Is not this Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite?” So David sent messengers, and took her; and she came to him, and he lay with her… Then she returned to her house. And the woman conceived; and she sent and told David, “I am with child”.

So David sent word to Joab, “Sent me Uriah the Hittite”. And Joab sent Uriah to David. When Uriah came to him, David asked how Joab was doing, and how the people fared, and how the war prospered. Then David said to Uriah, “Go down to your house, and wash your feet”. And Uriah went out of the king’s house, and there followed him a present from the king. But Uriah slept at the door of the king’s house with all the servants of

* Many Jewish scholars prefer to use “B.C.E.”, meaning “before the Christian Era”, and “C.E.” meaning “of the Christian Era”. However, the traditional usage is retained here, for two reasons. One is that use of the terms “B.C.” and “A.D.” need not necessarily imply a faith commitment, just as use of the Christian system of dating events from the putative birth-date of Christ does not necessarily imply a faith commitment. Although literally B.C. means “before Christ” and A.D. means “in the year of the Lord”, in modern times these are mere ciphers and are used by many people who have no commitment to Christianity, just as the dating system is. The second reason is that there are great practical advantages in having a single terminology.

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his lord, and did not go down to his house. When they told David, “Uriah did not go down to his house”, David said to Uriah, “Have you not come from a journey? Why did you not go down to your house?” Uriah said to David, “The ark and Israel and Judah dwell in booths; and my lord Joab and the servants of my lord are camping in the open field; shall I then go to my house, to eat and drink, and to lie with my wife? As you live, and as your soul lives, I will not do this thing”.

Then David said to Uriah, “Remain here today also, and tomorrow I will let you depart”. So Uriah remained in Jerusalem that day, and the next. And David invited him, and he ate in his presence and drank, so that he made him drunk; and in the evening he went out to lie on his couch with the servants of his lord, but he did not go down to his house.

In the morning David wrote a letter to Joab, and sent it by the hand of Uriah. In the letter he wrote, “Set Uriah in the forefront of the hardest fighting, and then draw back from him, that he may be struck down, and die”. And as Joab was besieging the city, he assigned Uriah to the place where he knew there were valiant men. And the men of the city came out and fought with Joab; and some of the servants of David among the people fell. Uriah the Hittite was slain also.

Then Joab sent and told David all the news about the fighting; and he instructed the messenger, “When you have finished telling all the news about the fighting to the king, then, if the king’s anger rises, and if he says to you, “Why did you go so near the city to fight? Did not you know that they would shoot from the wall? Who killed Abimelech the son of Jerubbesheth? Did not a woman cast an upper millstone upon him from the wall, so that he died at Thebez? Why did you go so near the wall?” Then you shall say, “Your servant Uriah the Hittite is dead also”.

So the messenger went, and came and told David all that Joab had sent him to tell. The messenger said to David, “The men gained an advantage over us, and came out against us in the field; but we drove them back to the entrance of the gate. Then the archers shot at your servants from the wall; some of the king’s servants are dead; and your servant Uriah the Hittite is dead also”. David said to the messenger, “Thus shall you say to Joab, “Do not let this matter trouble you, for the sword devours now one and now another, strengthen your attack upon the city, and overthrow it”. And encourage him”.

When the wife of Uriah heard that Uriah her husband was dead, she made lamentation for her husband. And when the mourning was over, David sent and brought her to his house, and she became his wife, and bore him a son. But the thing that David had done displeased the Lord.

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And the Lord sent Nathan to David. He came to him, and said to him, “There were two men in a certain city, the one rich and the other poor. The rich man had very many flocks and herds; but the poor man had nothing but one little ewe lamb, which he had bought. And he brought it up, and it grew up with him and with his children; it used to eat of his morsel, and drink from his cup, and lie in his bosom, and it was like a daughter to him. Now there came a traveler to the rich man, and he was unwilling to take one of his own flock or herd to prepare for the wayfarer who had come to him, but he took the poor man’s lamb, and prepared it for the man who had come to him”.

Then David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he said to Nathan, “As the Lord lives, the man who has done this deserves to die; and he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity”.

Nathan said to David, “You are the man. Thus says the Lord, the god of Israel, I anointed you king over Israel, and I delivered you out of the hand of Saul; and I gave you your master’s house, and your master’s wives into your bosom, and gave you the house of Israel and of Judah; and if this were too little, I would add to you as much more. Why have you despised the word of the Lord, to do what is evil in his sight? You have smitten Uriah the Hittite with the sword, and have taken his wife to be your wife, and have slain him with the sword of the Ammonites. Now therefore the sword shall never depart from your house, because you have despised me, and have taken the wife of Uriah the Hittite to be your wife. Thus says the Lord, Behold, I will raise up evil against you out of your own house; and I will take your wives before your eyes, and give them to your neighbor, and he shall lie with your wives in the sight of the sun. For you did it secretly; but I will do this thing before all Israel, and before the sun”.

David said to Nathan, “I have sinned against the Lord”. And Nathan said to David, “The Lord also has put away your sin; you shall not die. Nevertheless, because by this deed you have utterly scorned the Lord, the child that is born to you shall die”. And Nathan went to his house.

(2 Samuel 11,12; Revised Authorized Version)

Questions for discussion:

1.How would you describe David’s deeds against Uriah?

2.What does Nathan mean by referring to them as “sin”?

The origins of the Israelite people and their religion

The historical facts appear to be that a number of tribes of diverse origin, mostly Canaanite and speaking Aramaic, lived in the hill country of Palestine around 1200 B.C., some of them worshipping the god Yahweh among others. In the course of repeated wars against the “Sea Peoples” or Philistines living on the coast, the hill tribes developed a sense of national unity and eventually founded a united kingdom. Their religion gradually became monotheistic, centering on the figure of Yahweh, and was enshrined in a series of sacred writings. These writings recounted legends of earlier figures such as Adam, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, considered as the fathers of the united people, and stories of a period of slavery in Egypt and of redemption from it by the power of Yahweh – stories which, it must be conceded, modern scholars have largely been unable to verify – as well as the laws promulgated by Yahweh. The worship of a single God probably developed at about the same time as the nation was unified under a single king. According to the Bible the nation reached its widest boundaries during the reigns of David and Solomon, and was subsequently divided into a northern and a southern half. The northern, termed Israel, was destroyed by the Assyrians in the eighth century B.C., and the southern, named Judah, was destroyed in the sixth century B.C. by the Babylonians, who carried the educated and administrative classes off into captivity in Babylon. There some of these writings were brought together and edited in the authoritative collection known as the Pentateuch, Torah, or Books of Moses, the first five books of the Bible. Over the following centuries further compilations of these and similar materials were made, until the Hebrew Bible came to take the form it now has, around A.D. 100.

The Israelite view of life

Israelite religion was the first to develop the concept of a single personal God who created and governs the entire world. The historic achievement of the Israelites lay not only in their monotheism, however, but above all in the character they ascribed to this God. While the gods of other peoples are often cruel and unjust, given to the whole range of human crimes, the God of the Hebrew people is just and holy, and demands justice and holiness of men.

This God, who bears the name Yahweh, showed especial love for the Israelite people over the other peoples of the world by revealing himself to their fathers, redeeming them from slavery in Egypt, and giving them political power over the land of Palestine. In return he requires them to obey his commands. These commands are both ritual and moral, and bear heavy punishments in this life for transgressions. If they obey his commands, god promises them wellbeing in this life. Thus Israelite religion in its traditional form is concerned with