The Russian Church and Russian Dissent/Chapter 7
CHAPTER VII.
Influence of the Religious Element; its Development.—National Character of the Church; its Isolation.—Differences from Catholic and Protestant Churches.—Popes.—Development of Church and State in Russia.—Church Government.
The influence of the religious element in the history of Russia, and of its people, can hardly be exaggerated. In no country in Europe has it been greater, and yet, as one of those singular contrasts which the study of Russian civilization presents, while over the mass of the nation its power is and has been constant, nearly absolute, the upper classes have to a great degree become emancipated from its control, and indifferent to it. Since the days of Peter the Great the spirit of doubt and scepticism, characteristic of the eighteenth century, has pervaded the nobility and governing classes; among them Atheism is as general a doctrine as Christianity, and infidelity has supplanted faith; but the great body of the people have never risen above that degree of civilization in which all new ideas generally, and naturally, are imbued with a tincture of religion or superstition. Russian peasants are very devout, especially those who belong to the dissenting sects; among others, of the Orthodox creed, religion is rather a mechanical ritualism, but it holds them under bonds as severe as those of the most intense fanaticism. Evidence of the wonderful vitality of the religious principle among them is seen in its fecundity; it has given rise to innumerable sects, and others are constantly appearing; but this principle, so deeply rooted in the heart of the Russian peasant, is not entirely, and necessarily, always Christian in its nature. The conversion of the Russian people in the Middle Ages was sudden, and easily accomplished at the command of its princes, and was, in the same degree, superficial; the spirit of Christianity never permeated the masses so thoroughly, nor triumphed so completely over the ancient religions as elsewhere in the West. Many pagan ceremonies were partially engrafted on the services of the Church, while much of the old pagan superstition remained in the hearts of the people, covered up and concealed by a Christian exterior, but still exercising, even to the present day, unconscious influence over their religious conceptions.
The ceremonies of the Church recall to them the magical incantations of their heathen ancestors. The peasant imagines that the priest possesses the secret of propitiating the heavenly powers by the rites of the altar; that St. Vlas, the cattle-preserver, St. Elia, the rain-giver, St. George, the patron of wolves, all yield to priestly intercession. By it he can secure good harvests and increase of his flocks.
Attributes of pagan deities have been transferred to popular saints of the Russian calendar, and the whole universe teems with imaginary beings of superhuman nature, who, to the peasant, have a real existence; he believes that when Satan fell from heaven his hosts found refuge, some under the earth, as gnomes, others in the elements of earth, air, and water, or about the domestic hearth, as sprites; when hunting, he offers to the Lyeshi, or wood-demons, the first game he kills; if he be sick, he leaves in the forest a bit of bread or salt, with an invocation to the sylvan deity. The leaven of this pagan mythology still ferments in the peasant mind. The old belief could not be readily set aside, and was engrafted on the new; hence the epithet "two-faithed," often applied to the Russian people by their old writers.
The three spiritual conditions—paganism, Christianity, and scepticism—which, in other countries, generally correspond to consecutive phases of their development, are, in Russia, still recognizable in singular admixture. Notwithstanding this apparent confusion of ideas upon religion, which seems to pervade whole classes of society, the Church, as such, has always carefully preserved the ancient purity of its faith, without change or corruption, as it came originally from the shores of the Bosphorus.
Christianity in Russia is not merely a creed or a religion; it is, above all, a national institution; the first, the most venerable, and the most popular. Scepticism, in modern days, may be rampant, self-asserting, and widespread, but the Church is never assailed; its children may have lost faith in its teachings, it still retains its hold upon their affection and their sympathies.
As in England, the Church in Russia is a national Church; it is also a member of a great Christian communion, which rises above kingdoms and nationalities, and claims universal homage as the Holy, Catholic, Apostolic, Orthodox Church. When it separated from Rome its adherents numbered barely twenty millions; now they exceed eighty millions; of these sixty are under Russian rule, and, of the remainder, about half are of the Slavonic race, subjects of Turkey or Austria. Although designated as the Greek Church, it embraces many branches of the human family, and, of these, the Slavonic is the one predominant; it rules over many nations, of which the most civilized, and by far the most powerful, is Russia. As Catholicism may be termed the Latin form of Christianity, and Protestantism the Germanic, so Orthodoxy is the Slavonic.
There is a singular coincidence in the slight influence exercised by the Orthodox Church and the Slav race upon European civilization. Had they never existed their absence would have been hardly perceptible, whereas modern culture and development would be scarcely conceivable without Catholicism and Protestantism, or without the Latin and Germanic races.
The reasons for this striking inferiority, often and unjustly attributed solely to the Eastern Church, are manifold. Among them are, chiefly, the troubled, anxious political destinies of the nations acknowledging its sway; their isolated geographical situation, far from the centres of intellectual life; their position as forlorn hopes of European civilization and Christianity against barbaric and infidel invasion from Asia, and their religious, as well as their geographical separation from the rest of the civilized world, which was a consequence of the bitter hostility of Rome. Other reasons, of a secondary nature, may be traced to the different conceptions, in the East and in the West, of the mission and duty of the Church. The progressive element, and the gradual development of Christian truth, recognized by one communion, were ignored by the other. Rome admitted the principle of continual growth in religious knowledge, of constantly clearer manifestations of the faith, of further revelations of the sacred mysteries to be attained by study of the Word. To the Eastern theologian this idea was impious and damnable; for him the hour of discussion was closed by the decisions of the œcumenical councils anterior to the rupture between the Churches. The whole truth had been proclaimed, to which nothing could be added and nothing taken away. The limitations of the faith, thus forever established, without possibility of change, the Greek believer could, it is true, within those limits, exercise perfect freedom of personal interpretation, without fear of encountering more precise, authoritative definitions in the future, and the field open for discussion appeared the more vast, as the space circumscribed by unalterable dogmas was the more restricted. The result is apparent in the numerous sects and schisms within the fold of the Eastern, and, at a later day, of the Russian, Church, but the very immutability of the dogma tended to limit investigation to matters of minor importance, just at the period when human thought and study were concentrated chiefly on religious topics. At Rome, on the contrary, while individual opinion was always subject to decisions of the Church made obligatory on its adherents, the possibility of influencing those decisions was a constant stimulus to the development of intellectual activity upon questions of highest moment, and gradually extended its sphere of action to all branches of philosophy and modern science.
With this notable difference in the conception of the true development of Christian dogma, there is another, still more important, in the views held upon ecclesiastical authority. On this point the Greeks and the Latins are completely antagonistic. Bishops and priests are recognized among them both, but the Greeks do not accept any centralization of the power of the Church; they do not acknowledge any living chief before whom all must bow. Jesus Christ is, for them, the only Head of the Church, and He has no vicar on earth. The infallibility of the pope, and his supreme control, was the rock upon which the Churches split. The Greeks refuse allegiance to any other general authority than that of the whole Church in council assembled, and deny the existence of any permanent, living, personal head; no individual pontiff can speak in the name of the Church, or wield its power; that supreme prerogative belongs only to an Œcumenical Council. The Synod of Russia, the Patriarch of Constantinople, may censure or direct; their decisions are not infallible, nor are they binding beyond the limits of their own jurisdiction; even within them, personal opinions, individual consciences, are free, save in so far as the civil authority may lend its power to enforce the Church's decree. Recognizing no visible head, there has been no need of any local centre, of any Holy City, or of any spiritual monarch, vested, for his safeguard, with temporal power, and raised, as representative of divine right, by common consent of the faithful, above potentates and peoples.
As a consequence, nations following the Eastern creed have been spared the fierce and bloody struggles between Church and State which have devastated the West, but, as a further consequence, it has often happened that the State has encroached upon the Church, and made it subservient to its policy.
Decentralization has been characteristic of the Orthodox Church; it possesses unity of faith and of dogma without unity of government; it is modelled on the principle of nationalities, and is constituted of many national and independent establishments, auto-cephalous, each one having its own administration and language, and its peculiar rites, united only by the spiritual bond of a common belief; each one limited by the frontiers of its own country, and the extent of its jurisdiction measured by the territory of the State on which it depends. It is otherwise in the Catholic Church, where the constant tendency is to one centre, effacing more and more geographical separation and political boundaries, to claim universal dominion.
The inevitable result of this national character of Orthodox Churches has been increase of the influence of the civil power over the ecclesiastic, and, in proportion as the government has been the stronger, this result has been the more perceptible; it has been especially so in Russia, under absolute and autocratic rule. Throughout the history of this empire, harmony and concord have ever marked the relations of the two powers; religious zeal has stimulated patriotic devotion; the Church has earnestly co-operated in the creation and establishment of the State, and participated in its triumph over domestic, as well as over foreign foes; but it has fallen under the control of the State; the priest has become a functionary, and the Church, a department of the government. Intellectual stagnation followed the loss of its independence, and helped to aggravate the evil, peculiar to Russia, of isolation from the rest of the civilized world. The clergy submissively acquiesced in barring the influx of foreign ideas, and fostered the growth of national prejudices, as well as of patriotic sentiment. This isolation was also, in some measure, due to the national character which distinguished the Russian, as it did all Orthodox, Churches. Having no common religious centre, there was seldom need, or desire, for intercommunication; the various national establishments were interested, each only in its own domestic affairs, and their intercourse, one with another, was infrequent and exceptional. The use of the Slavonic tongue was an important element in the early success of the Church, and contributed largely to the rapid dissemination of its doctrines among the people, but it followed that Latin, the common medium of communication between the learned of all countries, was never an essential feature of clerical education, and, consequently, not only was the intellectual isolation of Russia greatly increased, but the clergy, shut out from the study of classic literature, were, as a body, afflicted with gross ignorance, degenerating into superstition, and the standard of morals among them was lowered to the level of their intellectual condition.
As regards rites and ceremonies the Russian differs widely from the Catholic and the Protestant Churches. It is essentially ritualistic, and rigidly adheres to the practices of the fourth and fifth centuries. It is often reproached with stifling the essence of religious belief under outward forms. This accusation is, however, true only in part, and the fact, such as it exists, is attributable more to the character and disposition of the Slavonic and Eastern races, than to any fault of the Church; on the contrary, it has, from the earliest ages, endeavored to guard against superstition and the surreptitiously degrading influences of the senses. It has shown constant hostility to the most corrupting of all external observances, that of image worship; statues have never been admitted to its temples, and all pictorial illustrations have been restricted to unchanging traditional types, covered with metal, save the face and hands, ancient, expressionless, and austere; the bishop, at his consecration, promises "to provide that honor shall be paid to God only, not to the holy pictures, and that no false miracle shall be ascribed to them." The Virgin Mary, the apostles, and the saints receive, not adoration as gods, but a secondary devotion, as due to those cleansed from original sin, and admitted to behold the Deity.[1]
Musical instruments have always been prohibited, and the human voice only has been heard in its chants, as in its prayers. Its efforts in this direction have been in vain, and even worse, as they have tended to deprive Russian civilization of the humanizing influences of the arts; but the spirit of formalism, of feticism, with which the Church has been so often, so bitterly, and so unjustly reproached, arises rather from the realistic, material character of the races subject to its sway, from their ignorance and proneness to superstition, and from their low intellectual development. For the Russian peasant, whose mind is still imbued with vague traditional reminiscences of his ancestral pagan worship, form and ceremony alone constitute religion; and his attachment to outward observances, his fidelity to rites consecrated by ancient usage, have given rise to obstinate schisms and dissensions, which still disturb the Church.
In the process of time, and notwithstanding their common origin, material differences have arisen in the form of the rites and ceremonies practised by the Eastern and Western Churches; these differences have been accompanied by a gradual, and finally a radical, divergence of opinion as to the essential meaning and importance of the ceremonial observances. The two Churches have the same sacraments, inherited from the same source, but they are conceived in a widely different spirit, and have a very different application and influence in the one, and in the other.
Among the Orthodox, baptism is administered by immersion only, and the validity of the Western ceremony, of merely sprinkling, is, by many of them, gravely questioned; it was for a long time absolutely denied, and converts to their faith were rebaptized, as a necessary introduction to the true Christian communion. In the Greek Church of Constantinople this custom is still maintained, and constitutes the only essential point of difference from the Russian Church, where, in this respect, more liberal ideas now prevail.
The Lord's Supper is administered by the Greek Church as it is among Protestants; the communicant partakes, with the clergy, of the consecrated bread and wine, and attaches vast importance to this privilege, as establishing his equality with the priesthood in the eye of God. Contrary to the custom of the Latin Church, it uses leavened, instead of unleavened, bread, as the true symbol of the Pascal feast; while it recognizes, like the Latin, the real presence of the body and blood of Christ, it does not pretend so precisely to designate the moment and manner of the transubstantiation, and claims, in consequence, a more spiritual interpretation of the mystery. A yearly confession and attendance at the holy table is made compulsory by law, and the great mass of the Russian people, although scrupulous to the extreme in the discharge of their religious duties, have come to consider an annual celebration of the festival as sufficient; the more piously inclined may, in the excess of their devotion, repeat it three or four times; but, even among the most devout, a monthly communion is more unusual than is its weekly observance among Catholics. So rare a participation in this most sacred of the sacraments, and the season of prayer and fasting enjoined as preparation for it, should, it would seem, invest it with peculiar solemnity; but the general habit of all flocking to the altar at the same period, together with its perfunctory nature, diminishes its effect upon the individual imagination, and has reduced it to the level of mere ceremonial routine. Being obligatory, and a pecuniary charge as well, the peasant, notwithstanding his devout and superstitious character, is inclined to shirk communion as often as he dares. Official reports show that frequently, in parishes of three or four thousand inhabitants, not more than two or three hundred partake of it. There is, moreover, in the Russian Church no first communion, properly so called; infants are admitted to the holy table, in accordance with the practice of the primitive Church. There is no long preliminary preparation for this initiation to the body of the elect, filling the youthful mind with religious awe and reverence, and which, among Catholics, and many Protestant sects, marks the event as one ever to be remembered. Religion thus becomes a less important element of early education, and loses much of its practical influence on afterlife.
The sacrament of the holy chrism replaces confirmation, but it does not correspond to the similar ceremony of the Catholic Church; always following the custom of the early Christians, it is, by Russians, conferred immediately after baptism, and may be administered by a priest, not necessarily by the bishop.
Auricular confession exists, and in Russia, as among Catholics, the inviolability of its secret is protected by law, save in cases of political conspiracies. It is, however, held in very different estimation, and practised in a different manner; it is shorter and more general, less explicit, less exacting, and less frequent; it is restricted to sins of a grave and serious nature, without entering into matters of thought or conscience, or the minute specific detail of daily life; it is free from the inquisitorial, suggestive, often repugnant, investigation into personal and family affairs by the priest, and is, to a far less degree, an instrument of power and authority for the clergy. A few general questions, and the stereotype reply, "I am a sinner," comprise all that is usually necessary for absolution; there is no confessional or privacy; the priest and the penitent stand face to face, generally, but not always, separated from the congregation. by a screen. During Lent the Church is crowded by the faithful, who, ranged in long processions, press one upon another, with tapers in their hands, frequently bowing the head, and, in accordance with Russian custom, making repeated signs of the cross; each one, advancing in turn, answers the priest's questions with the usual formula, receives absolution, and, passing on, lights his taper, and, with renewed genuflexions and crossings, places it before the holy images; a few days afterwards he returns for communion. The confessional rite thus reduced to the utmost simplicity may, for the piously inclined, be full of solemn meaning; but for the multitude it is only a duty ordained by law, and to be performed at stated intervals. That the holiest and most spiritual of the sacraments should, in the estimation of a people naturally of so devout a temperament, have degenerated into mere formal and external observances, and have lost their vivifying influence, is capable of various explanations. Their obligatory nature has much to do with it. The State has here lent its aid to enforce the commands of the Church; it is an article of the code that every Russian subject shall make confession, and partake of communion, at least once in every year; and the civil and military authorities are, with the clergy, charged with the execution of the law. These enactments have fallen into partial disuse; the progress of civilization, and of liberal ideas, render their universal application impracticable; still they exist for the intimidation of some, a stimulus to the indiscreet zeal of others. Certificates of confession are given with absolution; lists of the communicants of each parish are sent annually to the bishop, and, by him, those of the diocese are sent to the Synod, to be embodied in the tabular statistics submitted to the emperor. Compulsion is seldom employed, but the "moujik"[2] wishes to avoid the vexation of official supervision; petty employees seek to curry favor with their superiors, and the law affords an opportunity for them to display their alacrity. Religious duties, thus degraded to the level of police regulations, are performed in the same spirit as that in which the latter are obeyed.
Another explanation is found in the poverty of the clergy, and the inadequate provision by the State for their maintenaince. They depend, for their support, upon the contributions they can levy upon their parishioners, and expect payment for the duties they discharge. Every sacrament—confession and communion, as well as baptism, marriage, and burying—is a matter of bargain; no recognized tariff exists, but a gift is exacted, of which only the amount is voluntary. The sinner compounds with the Church, and his penance is in inverse proportion to his liberality. The authority and influence of the priesthood suffer; the sacred office, and he who holds it, are degraded by this chaffering over a price for the highest privileges of the Christian faith.
The position of a Russian pope towards his flock differs greatly from that of the Catholic priest. Not celibacy, but marriage, is obligatory for him; the common existence of family ties draws him and his parishioners more nearly together, and makes their interests analogous. They create, as with the Protestant clergy, a stronger feeling of mutual sympathy, a greater community of ideas and sentiments; while they also tend to diminish pastoral authority, and to check the reverential respect involuntarily shown to those who, from noble and lofty motives, make the sacrifice of the purest joys granted to mankind. Ordination in the Russian Church is not necessarily for life; a priest may be relieved of his vows by the Holy Synod. If convicted of crime, he may, like any functionary, be degraded from his office; the death of his wife (a second marriage is not permitted) deprives him of his sacred character, and he can no longer officiate. In a word, the Russian pope is rather a minister at, and a servant of the altar, than the representative of the Deity.
The clergy of the Orthodox, like that of the Catholic, Church is divided into the regular and secular bodies; but here again wide differences prevail. In Russia there are monks and nuns under vows of celibacy, but there are no religious orders; there are numerous monasteries and convents, but. they are isolated establishments, independent of one another. Great federated communities, united under central governments, constituting formidable spiritual powers within the State and the Church, do not exist.
As regards marriage, the Orthodox agree in many respects with the Catholic; they hold it to be a sacrament of the Church. There is, in Russia, no civil ceremony. They do not look with favor upon remarrying, and, while they tolerate a second and a third marriage, under penances, the Church canons prohibit a fourth. They declare the tie to be indissoluble, but the law considers physical defect, absence for five years, and adultery sufficient causes for separation; in the latter case, the innocent spouse may marry again, but the guilty one cannot.
From this comparison it is evident that, contrary to what is generally supposed, the differences between the Russian and other Churches, not of the Orthodox creed, are in reality fundamental, and not merely superficial; they do not consist simply in slight variations and divergences in the performance of similar rites and ceremonies, while the creed and the traditions, the hierarchy and the sacraments, remain the same; they go deeper; they affect the conception of Christian truth, and the spirit of Christian worship, and are manifest in the different influences exerted by the different Churches upon the government of nations, and upon the development of civilization.
The Catholic, by its concentration, by its regular hierarchy under a supreme head, by the spirit of obedience and submission which it inculcates, by the power and authority conferred upon its chief, and by its aim at universal dominion, tends to centralization, and favors the principle of absolute monarchy.
The Protestant, by its latitude in matters of faith, by its spirit of inquiry and freedom of interpretation, by the liberty of thought which it encourages, by its division into various sects and their independence of each other, tends to decentralization, and sympathizes with the principle of a representative, or republican form of government.
The Orthodox, fixed and immutable in its traditions and belief, although without any supreme authority over it, is conservative in its tendency; allowing wide scope, within defined limits, to individual opinion, it permits a certain freedom of thought; having no political proclivities, it neither advocates, nor favors, any special form of government, but accords with existing institutions, if they be not hostile to Christian truth. While not actually progressive, it is no enemy to progress, and allows the free development of the nations over which it holds sway, according to the national genius of each, and according to the influences which may surround it; it is equally at home in democratic Greece, and in autocratic Russia.
Orthodoxy appears to occupy an intermediate place between Catholicism and Protestantism, but it would be a grave error to suppose that it accepts this position in any timid or halting spirit, or as being in any wise one of transition, as if emanating from the former and gradually tending to the latter. On the contrary, it unhesitatingly asserts its claim to be the sole legitimate heir of the primitive Church, unchangeable and ever unchanging, immutable from the beginning, founded upon apostolic truth as upon a rock. Far from seeking alliance with either, it looks down upon them both, with pitying disdain, as wandering and estranged from Christ.
Christianity in Russia has, from its introduction, been subject to the principle of development peculiar and inherent to Orthodoxy. The Church has adapted itself to, and modelled itself upon, the political constitution of the nation; it has extended its jurisdiction as the geographical boundaries of the empire have been enlarged.
The degree of independence which it has. enjoyed in its connection with the State, and the freedom it has allowed to those within its bosom, have been in harmony with the character of the national institutions; and the method of its administration has corresponded to that of the civil government. The autocratic principle, imposed upon the people by its rulers, did not have its rise in any timid subserviency on the part of the Church; it existed already in the nature of the governing power; it was recognized by the Church, as well as by the nation, and, under its influence, the one assumed its natural position of relative dependency, and the other was reduced to absolute subjection. In this result of dependency on the State the Church has never felt, nor acknowledged, any degradation of its sacred character; in its own estimation, and as its disciples declare, it has been guided by its universal practice, and by its early traditions, as exemplified in the relations which existed between the primitive Church and the first Byzantine emperors.
For a proper appreciation of this view of its position towards the State, it is necessary to follow the gradual development of the one alongside of the other, through the tolerably distinct phases, or periods, of Russian ecclesiastical history. These are, broadly: first, the period of the complete dependence of the Church upon the See of Constantinople; second, the transition period, during which it gradually acquired autonomy, and approached the time of its emancipation from foreign control; then, the period of the patriarchate, when its ecclesiastical independence had been definitively established, and it rose to its highest power; and finally, that of the Holy Synod, when it became subordinate to the State, and which still continues.
During the first period, the metropolitans of Russia had their seat primarily at Kiev, the capital of the great princes; they were almost invariably appointed, and sent thither, by the Patriarch of Constantinople; they were generally Greeks, ignorant of the language and customs of the people over whom they ruled; the Church was simply a diocese, a province of the Byzantine patriarchate.
The invasion of the Tatars, and the consequent removal of the seat of government from the banks of the Dnieper far to the interior of the country, separated the two Churches, and isolated them one from another; as the metropolitan accompanied the prince, the religious centre was displaced to follow the political. Communication became difficult, often impracticable, through immense wastes peopled with savage and warring tribes; a sense of independence on the part of the Russian Church was the natural result of rare intercourse, and this feeling was increased by the frequent necessity which arose of filling the ecclesiastical throne, when reference to, or waiting upon, Constantinople was an impossibility. It became a recognized principle that the primate should be of Russian blood, chosen by his clergy or named by the prince, and, although consecration by the Byzantine patriarch was still held to be essential, the idea of a national establishment was germinating. True to its origin and traditions, the Church was ever respectful to authority, and loyal to the legitimate sovereign. During long civil wars and foreign subjugation its influence expanded, and was less overshadowed by that of the State; it was favored and protected by Tatar khans, as well as by native princes. Conciliated by the former to strengthen and consolidate their dominion, by the latter to profit by its services as a mediator between themselves, or as an intercessor with their oppressors, it came to be the only bond which held the nation together—the safeguard and bulwark of the national existence. This was the most glorious age of the Russian Church, distinguished by unswerving patriotism, religious zeal, and intense nationality; the days of its great popular heroes and saints, and the epoch when its most celebrated institutions were founded. After the nation had issued triumphant from its tribulations, and the empire became independent and strong, the power of the Church dwindled before that of the State; it passively protested in the person of its only martyr, St. Philip, against the encroachments of the tsar, but it never rebelled against constituted authority, or strove to check the growth of autocratic government.
The ambition of Boris Godounov led to a recrudescence of its power; he encouraged the emancipation of the Church from foreign control, in order to win the sympathy of the clergy and profit by its influence over the people, precisely as he established, or consolidated, serfdom to conciliate the nobility and landed proprietors. The creation of the patriarchate exalted the Church, and increased the dignity and splendor of its position, but, at the same time, it severed its connection with the outer world and left it alone, exposed without allies abroad, without the hope of foreign succor, in the inevitable struggle which was to come for pre-eminence between the ecclesiastical and the civil powers. This struggle was postponed by the political occurrences of the years immediately succeeding. Again the Church proved the saviour of the national life, and rose, by the force of circumstances, and the patriotic devotion of its members, to almost undisputed supremacy in the reigns of Michael and Alexis Romanoff, and during the patriarchate of Nikon.
The fall of this mighty prelate meant the future predominance of the civil power, and the Church submitted with its wonted humility, accepted the interregnum ordered by Peter the Great, acquiesced in the abolition of the patriarchate, and consented to a final reorganization under the Holy Synod.
Its rise at different times, during the extraordinary vicissitudes of its fortunes, to almost supreme control in the body politic, was, on each occasion, the consequence of extraneous and fortuitous circumstances, rather than the result of any ambitious effort of its own. Its elevation was invariably followed, as the especial cause disappeared, by its submission to civil authority, and by harmonious co-operation with it. It is, however, to be observed that this submission related only to the administration of Church affairs, and never affected questions of dogma, nor of doctrine, raised high above the authority of the Church itself.
The synodical, or federative form, of government is the natural and logical one for churches of the Orthodox communion, as it adapts itself equally well to all political constitutions. In democratic Greece the Church has followed the example given by the Church of autocratic Russia, and its organization there, while differing in detail, is similar in principle. Whatever form among Orthodox Churches the higher, or governing power may have assumed, it has never made any pretence to be of divine origin, but, whether patriarchate or synod, has always been, and been held to be, of human institution; in either case entitled to respect, but with the advantage, on the part of the synod, of greater flexibility of adaptation.
In Russia, the composition of the synodical council is dependent almost entirely on the will of the emperor; nearly all the members, and their number is not limited, are appointed by him, but it would be an error to suppose that he is, in any spiritual sense, like the Pope of Rome, the head of the Church. If, in any legislative acts, he is so termed, it is only in his capacity of administrator of its affairs, and, as such, his authority is restricted by the canons, by tradition, and by œcumenical decrees. All questions of dogma and of discipline are beyond his control; never has a tsar, unless it be the demented Paul, claimed any rank in the clerical hierarchy; at the altar he yields homage to the priest, in common with the humblest of his subjects; he is simply, as he is designated in the catechism, the administrator and protector of the Church.
The Holy Synod takes precedence over all the other great bodies of the State; it replaces the patriarch, with all his rights and privileges; originally, it was more of a representative assembly, comprising the different ranks of the clergy, and bishops were in a numerical minority; now, in accordance with the practice of the early Church, which placed authority in the hands of its bishops, the episcopal element predominates. The three metropolitans of Kiev, Moscow, and St. Petersburg are entitled to membership by right of their offices, and the latter is the presiding officer; the Exarch of Georgia is also admitted upon the same ground; the other members are appointed by the emperor—some for definite periods, others to hold office during his pleasure; some in full and regular standing, others as supernumeraries or assistants; they comprise four or five archbishops, bishops, or archimandrites, and two arch-priests of the secular clergy, one of whom usually is the chaplain and confessor of the emperor, the other the chaplain-general of the army. The Synod has its seat at St. Petersburg, and is permanently in session. The emperor is represented by a delegate bearing a title corresponding to attorney-general (ober-procurator), who assists at the meetings, but who is not, properly speaking, a member; this official is always a layman, frequently a military officer of high rank, and is the personification of the civil authority; he acts as the intermediary between the emperor and the Synod; all communications pass by his hands; he presents to the Synod all laws projected by the government, and submits all decisions of the Synod for imperial sanction; he proposes all measures, directs all business, and executes all decrees; no act is valid without his assent, and he has the right of veto, if any action of the Synod appears to him contrary to the laws of the State. Every year he prepares statements of the condition of the Church, of the clergy, and of religion generally throughout the empire.
The functions of the Synod are divided among several departments. Such of these as exercise supervision over clerical discipline, religious censorship, and all ecclesiastical matters, strictly speaking, come under the immediate direction of members of the Synod, while others, specially charged with care of the schools and of the finances of the Church, are placed under the attorney-general. All business is transacted in writing, without oral discussion, or deliberation in open assembly; bureaucracy or circumlocution, so generally prevalent throughout Russia, is carried to an extreme, and, as a consequence, the real direction of affairs devolves upon the various departments, and the members of the Synod do little else than sign what is put before them.
For the nomination of bishops the Synod submits three names to the emperor, who generally chooses and appoints the first one on the list; they are subject to the authority of the Synod, and each one, in his diocese, is assisted by a consistory or council, the members of which are named by the Synod, upon the recommendation of the bishop. This consistorial body acts chiefly as an ecclesiastical tribunal, and has jurisdiction over all cases of clerical discipline, or those in which the clergy are interested, and over matters relating to marriage and divorce; its acts require the episcopal sanction for their validity, and final appeal from its decisions lies to the Synod. The functions of this provincial council, within its jurisdiction, bear a general resemblance to those of the supreme governing body, and are, in like manner, shared by several departments; a lay secretary, appointed by the Synod, upon the nomination of the attorney-general, and subject to his orders, is charged with duties kindred to his own; the same bureaucratic, centralizing tendency exists as at the capital, and a similar controlling influence is exercised by the various departments.
From all the dioceses and provincial consistories constant reference must be made to the central head, whether it be for the erection of, or the removal of, a church edifice, for the employment of diocesan funds, for the distribution of charitable contributions, for the deposition of a priest, or his release from his vows. The bishop must present every year full reports upon the condition of his bishopric, upon its schools and institutions, upon the number of communicants, and of conversions from other religions or from dissenting sects; he cannot be absent from his diocese for more than a week without special authorization.
The prodigious centralization noticeable in the machinery of Church government in Russia is the inevitable result of the constant, close relations with each other enforced upon its component parts, and of the intimate connection maintained by the Church with the civil authority. This intimacy is enhanced by the rivalry between the regular and the secular clergy; ecclesiastical honors and preferments are monopolized by the former, and they are the more prone to subserviency towards the State as the source of all power and emolument, while for the latter there is no independent religious head at home, nor supreme pontiff abroad, to whom they may appeal, and they also turn to the civil authority as their natural, and only, protection against episcopal despotism.
While rejoicing in the favor of the State, the Church does not apprehend thereby serious danger to its independence as a Church; confident in the immutability of its dogma, which no authority can impugn, and in the pious devotion of its adherents, upon which the government dare not trespass, it is fully alive to the fact that the interference of the sovereign is limited by the unwritten law of tradition, and that, to undue encroachment, it has but to oppose its passive power of inertia, and to rely upon the fidelity of its followers.