THE CHURCH'S INTERNAL AND PUBLIC LIFE IN THE MIRROR OF THE PAST YEAR

Nezavisimaia gazeta, 25 December 1997

This year more materials were published regarding the Russian Orthodox church than ever before. This is not suprising inasmuch as 1997 proved to be rich in events that had significance for the whole nation and even the world. Most important were the antisectarian lawsuit of Yakunin versus Dvorkin, the adoption of the new law "On Freedom of Conscience," the problem of the remains of the royal family, and the failure of the patriarch of Moscow and all-Rus to meet with the Roman pope. The next level of importance belonged to events within the church which had political ramifications and provoked reactions in the media. Among these were the excommunication of Filaret Denisenko and Gleb Yakunin, canonical sanctions against the icon painter Zinon in Pskov and Fr Georgy Kochetkov in Moscow, and the crisis of the ecumenical movement. Throughout the year there was an on-going struggle between Sergei Bychkov of Moskovskii komsomolets and Metropolitan Kirill, and the noisy campaign over Scorsese's film took over just about all of the media. But what do all of these, and some lesser noted, events mean? Comprehension of what occurred and its reflection in the mass media requires special effort. We should take note of the trends that are hidden from us by day-to-day events and only then will it become clear how they are reflected in the mirror of the press.

The Problem of Symphony. The role of the church in the public and political life of Russia has grown enormously. Many are not persuaded of this point. Usually they point to the figures: the number of communicants, that is active church people, varies in different calculations from a half to six percent of the Russian population. Actually it is much more important to pay attention to different figures. In 1997 all surveys showed that the army and the church occupy the top two places in the confidence of citizens of Russia. There is another interesting fact. To the question "should the Russian Orthodox church enjoy privileges in the state," 40% answered "no," but 27%, "yes." One should contemplate what lies behind this 27%. If we were dealing with 1990 or 1993, then the church's high rating could be ascribed to public expectations, to the presumption that the church stands "for spirituality" and thus we can trust it. But in 1997 this reflects an entirely different trend. This rating has been maintained despite antichurch publications, accusations of obscurantism and illegal financial operations, and so on. The reason is obvious. There is no civil society in Russia; there is only the population and the authorities. And the authorities do not enjoy the majority's support. Regional trends are such that the break-up of the federation seems to many analysts inevitable over the next 20 to 30 years. Under such circumstances the role of the church as the only civil institution binding together all Russians has naturally grown. The value of the church as an instrument of integrity has risen sharply. In a word, the population sees clearly that everything in Russia has become a matter for parties and corporations and only the army and church are for everyone, "for all."

In 1996 the church played an important symbolic role in the legitimization of Yeltsin's second term. I venture to predict that by the year 2000 its role will have been transformed into a real political factor inasmuch as the fight for Yeltsin's legacy promises to be severe and will be accompanied by enormous regional demands. Under the circumstances of civic apathy today, there's little likelihood that a mass public, political movement can be started and that civil institutions can be widely reinvigorated. This means that the army and the church will become the most important instruments in the struggle for the integrity of the country in the near future.

The Problem of the Elite. The second line of growth of the church's role is even more significant. We shall stipulate that the problem of the elite is the main problem for Russia's stable future in the near term. Russia today is "in transition;" the social "elevator" is continuing to bring new people to the top and new age cohorts are being elevated. Briefly stated, the question of who will be confirmed in the leadership of these cohorts, "good" or "bad" guys, is directly linked with the church. The issue is that the "good guys" need their own local socio-cultural base and the establishment of solidity, family values, and a work ethic. Russia is a Christian Orthodox country. And this means that by an almost Marxist iron logic the new elite will inevitably have an Orthodox essence holding it together. Of course, it will not be the only thing but for now I am ignoring the others.

This process is already underway, in full swing. It's no accident that Viktor Aksiuchits has shown up in the close company of Nemtsov nor that Andrei Loginov has risen rapidly to the position of overseer of the internal politics of the presidential administration. Perhaps the press crows about Luzhkov's not taking communion, but this does not obviate the inevitablity of the alliance between the leaders of various political forces and the church. The voting on the new law on freedom of conscience must be understand from this perspective. It was not a matter that there are communists in the parliament, or that the patriarchate lobbied, and so forth. An absolute majority of the State Duma and Federation Council voted for the new law, which caused such anguish to Clinton's administration. The essence of the matter is that the elite of a majority of party and regional blocs voted for an essentially Orthodox law as the pattern for the development of Russia, reflecting what is objectively occurring.

This is a great demand on the church "externally." What's going on within? On the whole the church also is "in transition." A national church council already has been put off for several years in violation of the existing by-laws. But it is being put off for good reason: the majority of questions which require the convening of a council have not developed to a significant degree because Russia itself has not determined its new visage. On the other hand even within the episcopate a cohort, which could assume the responsibility for decisions having profound consequences, has not developed and matured. In 1997 the church has continued to develop its resources--that's the main thing. And it is remarkable that it has been possible to do this during the transitional, reformed period. If we consciously establish a certain historical distance we can see that the diplomacy and canonical decisions of the patriarchate in 1997 we sufficiently decisive and at the same time were judicious in keeping with the transitional period. Patriarch Alexis II refused to meet the pope but the patriarchate did not reject the Balamand statements and the possibility of dialogue.

It is known that many consider the polemical approaches of Orthodox publicists in the struggle against the sects, even within the patriarchate an not just among rank and file laity, to be extreme, but the patriarchate has steadfastly supported Alexander Dvorkin in his lawsuit against Gleb Yakunin in order to show that the problem of "foreign missions" is a state affair from the church's point of view. And it is.

In another area that is weakly reflected in the press, we observe a number of efforts by the patriarchate for a "meeting of minds." This includes the Rozhdestvensky reading, Orthodox reading in the Academy of the Minister of Internal Affairs, the Conference on the Health of the Nation sponsored by Metropolitan Kirill, the creation of departments of Orthodox culture in the leading educational institutions of the armed forces, the international actions of the Fund of the Unity of Orthodox Peoples, and so on. In most of these meetings and readings there is a slow but important process of "breaking in" people of various professions and social ranks who are united by the awareness of the value of Orthodoxy for state formation. The church is reaching out to the new Russian elite by these steps.

The Problem of Communal Life. The third, and most profound and fruitful stratum of contemporary church life usually does not appear in the media. But it feeds all the rest. This matter is the life of parish communities. The grass-roots brotherhood movement that arose in the early 90s on the grounds of Orthodoxy as an ideology has been nurtured by the patriarchate. Development has occurred on the pattern of the synodal period of the beginning of the twentieth century: under the bishops in the dioceses strong, economically sound brotherhoods have been formed. Whether this is good or bad only time will tell. Before 1917 a substantial part of the means of the church was channeled through the Orthodox brotherhoods. I do not know whether this appeal to the past is productive today, but I cannot restrain myself from giving an example: in 1914 in Kostroma they celebrated the thirty-fifth anniversary of the Alexander Orthodox Brotherhood, which included all of the city's elite of the time. The emperor donated 3,000 rubles to the brotherhood at the time it was organized. By 1914 its net worth had grown to 255,000 rubles. The brotherhood's property was valued at 100,000 rubles. The brotherhood owned seven schools, four workshops, four hostles, two hospitals, and a soup kitchen--in all nineteen educational and charitable institutions. Besides financing the construction and remodeling of churches, the brotherhood distributed financial resources to the elderly and poor parishioners and provided aid in cases of fire or illness. In 1914 the brotherhood had 545 members. Is that bad?

Even today there are communities and pastors in the church whose fame reaches far beyond the parishes. Archpriests Dimitry Smirnov, Boris Pivovarov, Alexander Novopashin, and Arkady Shatov--I select these names now simply as examples. These and dozens of other priests of today's church are notable for their "social ministry," which the liberal press accuses the church of lacking. But we do not see these people on the pages of illustrated journals. There are logical reasons for this: it is difficult to write or make a television report about the life of a community, a life that is quiet and avoids promoting itself. It is hard to avoid a "tabloid," sentimental tone. It is hard to avoid portraying the Orthodox as inhabitants of some kind of ghetto in a secular world. Perhaps these are difficulties of the "transitional period." On the whole the church is continuing to live and exist as an organism striving to heal itself and straighten itself out and to find itself in the postsoviet world. It is moving toward a new self-identity whose contours still can only be surmised. One thing is clear--this identity will not be separate from the form that Russia takes.

The Problem of the Project. The year 1997 will go into history as the year of a general recognition that the project for the construction of a civil society has not been achieved. Why has this happened? It just happened. Now the "good guys" are supposed to rally around a "native Russian mind." This expression from Kireev was proposed to us by Professor Mikhail Ilin, a political scientist who is sensitive to language, to be used instead of the incomprensible scholastic and worn-out expression "Russian idea." In other words, it will be necessary to work something out organically. Formally this "native Russian mind" is intended to encompass a terminological web: "conservatism," "fundamentalism," etc. In any case it is not necessary to take this course, to establish or prove that "fundamentalism" is good insofar as it relies on native values. The fatal flaw of this terminology is its specificity. We should simply say culture. When we pronounce this word we have in mind not "something in general" but precisely the Russian Christian culture. The Russian church must fix itself within this complex context. From the outside American analysts say that Russia poses two threats--nuclear weapons and the fundamentalist Russian Orthodox church. From within, a group of pundits, having despaired in 1990-1997 of the construction of civil institutions, sitting alongside the ruins of the "free press," are writing about the permanent "crisis of medieval consciousness" which ails the RPTs and they lament its intolerance and control by the extreme right. Eight out of ten publications of the national press ridicule the "obscurantism" of the church. But still worse comes from the other end, where editor of Rus Pravoslavnaia Konstantin Dushenov and his associates have undertaken to create a spectre of this "fundamentalism." Konstantin Yurievich has proceeded to go over the edge. He does not understand that he should not be facilitating the rupture of the organic development. His pamphlets "Orthodoxy or Death" are just like the erotic scenes in Scorsese's film. They are capable of fracturing the weak and still undeveloped Christian self-consciousness.

For the sake of clarity we state that for all its shortcomings, the current generation of bishops has managed to bring the church through these "years of transition" without taking it over the edge. The Russian bishops of the next generation are going to have to walk a very fine line. The pressure of the historical situation is enormous. As is that from the "patriots" who want to transform the faith and the calm assurance of residence in our own home ("freedom" in the Russian language comes from the words "one's own") into an obnoxious ideology or moralism in the name of "great" Russia.

The Problem of the Organic Response. One distinctive trait of 1997 is that the national newspapers have written about the church's affairs with hatred for the Moscow patriarchate and its current composition. Zoia Krakhmalnikova, Alexander Nezhny, Sergei Bychkov, and Natalia Babasian seem to be expecting that a neutron bomb is going to fall on St. Daniel's monastery. At the same time their passion is such that it seems they are sure that the next generation of the Russian episcopate, which will take over after the miraculous liberation of the patriarchal residence, will be much better than the current one. Or, for example, that there is some kind of secret faction within the Russian episcopate which is much better than those now constituting the synod. But any responsible political scientist will tell you that there is no such faction, while the next generation of bishops capable of taking over the church is not completely determined, and these authors themselves, if you ask them, will confidently say that it is no better than the current one. It turns out that the passion of these "hurlers of poisoned arrows" are in a complete vacuum. It is all empty, adolescent, and irresonsible rhetoric.

In reality the church confronts very complex tasks for which it must find organic answers. Here it is possible to identify these tasks and their magnitude only superficially. It is necessary to find a precise balance of "openness" and "closedness," since the church cannot simple "expose itself" to modernization, on the pattern of the Second Vatican Council, as apparently Anatoly Krasikov proposes, but it cannot "close itself" hermetically because ideological reserve is the road to death. It will have to support, and perhaps produce, those forces, those elites, which will be able to participate in the genuine modernization of Russia as a whole, that is, in the construction of an organically developed society upon its own socio-cultural soil. This is to say nothing about the problems of canonical territory and autocephaly and the attitudes toward the church's own past of the synodal and pre-synodal periods.

One can contemplate only this--it is clear that the church, like Russia, must collect itself anew in the focus of the future, whose tasks are urgent and inevitable. From this newly formed self-consciousness it evidently will be able to draw the necessary energy for development. (tr by PDS)

Link to Russian text at Pravoslavie v Rossii