The Russian Church and Russian Dissent/Chapter 3
CHAPTER III.
The Russian Church from its Establishment to its Independence of Constantinople.—The Unia and the Orthodox Church in Poland; Separation of the Latter from the Church in Russia.
After the death of Vladimir, in 1015, bloody and fratricidal strife between the appanaged princes desolated Russia until Yaroslav, his son, succeeded in uniting the whole kingdom under his sway.
Yaroslav, great among the greatest of Russian monarchs, followed his father's example. He sedulously fostered the growth of the Church as an element of his own power. With its growth its national character was developed. It evinced its jealousy of foreign influence by the election, in 1051, of Hilarion, a native Russian, as metropolitan, without reference to Constantinople. Churches were multiplied in all the cities, and the first monastic establishments were founded. The most celebrated of these, from the great influence which it exerted upon the civil and religious destinies of Russia, and from the profound veneration in which it is and always has been held by the people, merits more than a passing notice.
A pilgrim from Lubetsch became a monk in the Holy Land, under the name of Anthony, and was distinguished for exemplary humility and devotion. His superiors marked his vocation for cœnobitic life, and, giving him their blessing, ordered him back to Russia, prophesying the success which would attend his labors in his native land. On his return, about 1013, he was divinely guided, in his search for a retreat, to the mountain near Kiev, where the metropolitan Hilarion had, when a simple priest, been wont to resort for solitary prayer and meditation; there, in the cave, two fathoms deep, dug out for himself by Hilarion, Anthony took up his abode and lived a hermit's life of fasting and self-denial. The fame of his piety spread through the land, and the people far and near revered him as a saint. Yaroslav and his son Isiaslav, with the court, came frequently to implore his blessing; and soon other devotees joined him, and dug their caves by his. As their numbers increased, Anthony appointed Barlaam to rule over them as abbot, and retired farther into the forest to be alone. A church and a cloister were added to the subterranean dwellings which burrowed far into the mountain, and by degrees other churches and an immense monastery, dedicated to the Assumption of the Virgin, arose around and above the caves of the early brethren, in memory of which it was called the Petcherski.[1]
The prince and the great lords were prodigal of their riches in founding and endowing other religious establishments, but none, writes Nestor, one of its inmates, prospered as did the Petcherski, "created without silver or gold, of which Anthony had none, but by fasting and watching, by tears and prayers." Feodoceï, "humblest of the brethren," succeeded Barlaam. He completed the organization of the brotherhood according to the strict rules of the Studium monastery of Constantinople. As it was the first, so it became the most celebrated of the monasteries of Russia, and the source from which many sprang.
What Jerusalem and the Temple were to the Jews, Kiev and the Petcherski are to the Russians. The vast and mysterious catacombs are peopled by the bodies of thousands of holy men, who still rest in the caverns where they lived; miracles are worked by their remains, and keep alive the ardent devotion of innumerable worshippers at their shrines.
When Christianity was introduced in Russia the schism dividing the East and the West, although threatening, was not declared, and the Russian establishment was a branch of the Church universal, still, in theory, one and indivisible. The final separation, consummated in 1054, aroused but little, if any, attention in Russia. The Church there, deriving its origin, its creed, and its ritual from Constantinople, followed as of course the fortunes of its parent stem. It ignored the doctrines of Rome, and, while it watched with jealousy any unnecessary interference on the part of the patriarch, whom it acknowledged, it resented from the first all pretensions of the popes to jurisdiction over it. Its flourishing condition had already attracted notice, and Rome was in haste to commence the long series of her attempts to bring it under her authority.
Yaroslav's reign was followed by long and bloody civil wars. Isiaslav, his son, driven from power, found refuge in Germany and obtained promises of support from Pope Gregory VII. upon condition of submitting his kingdom and the Church to the Roman see. In the bewildering maze of revolution and counter-revolution Isiaslav regained his throne without foreign aid, and Gregory's schemes came to naught.
The short reign of Vladimir II., Monomachus, a wise and pious prince, was the only respite in a century and a half of anarchy. During this dreary period of civil wars, culminating in national subjugation by the Tatars, the history of the Church alone affords some relief to the gloomy picture. It extended its peaceful conquests over the North and towards the West, and its annals are illustrated by the lives of holy men and devoted missionaries. As a body it gained in strength and vigor; its influence was courted and its assistance invoked by the rival claimants of the crown, but it suffered in its purity and dignity by stooping to favor the pretensions of the, for the moment, successful competitor, transferring its support from the weaker to the stronger, as they fell and rose. The fortunes of its primates depended upon those of the princes, and, as they passed in rapid succession on the throne, so bishop after bishop sat in the metropolitan chair, and, in the twelfth century, three rival prelates at one time claimed possession of ecclesiastical sovereignty.
Amid civil dissensions the Church again manifested its spirit of nationality and its impatience of foreign dictation. In 1147 a synod of native bishops elected Clement, a Russian prelate, as metropolitan, without reference to Constantinople.
Political anarchy had its parallel in doctrinal differences among the clergy, and then, as in the graver schisms to arise in later years, these differences related to matters of practice and not of dogma.
At the commencement of the twelfth century religious antagonism to the Church of the West was stimulated by national feeling in a struggle with a foreign enemy.
The orders of the Teutonic Knights and of the Brethren of the Sword, incited by Rome, had subdued Lithuania and Livonia. Under the banner of the Latin Church they attacked Russia on the west, aiming not merely at conquest, but at the establishment of papal supremacy.
Soon after, the Tatars appeared on the east, crossed the Volga in 1237, and, in successive invasions, spread over the country like an overwhelming deluge. Notwithstanding the patriotic efforts of the popular hero and saint, Alexander Yaroslavitch, known in Russian history as the "Nevsky," for his great victory over Swedes and Lithuanians on the banks of the Neva, the Tatar khan was everywhere triumphant, and Russian princes accepted his sway. Finally the Church recognized his authority, but it is her glory that she was the last to submit; that even then she maintained the faith, never lost hope for the future, and strove ever to keep alive the dying pulsations of national life.
Russia's extremity was Rome's opportunity. Pope Innocent IV. offered to arouse the Christian princes of Europe in a crusade against the Mongols, if the Russian Church would unite with that of Rome and acknowledge his supremacy. His proposals were disdainfully refused; Russian princes and the Church preferred submission to the khan rather than recognition of the pope.
The Tatar conqueror speedily realized the mighty influence of the Church and the clergy over the people, and endeavored to enlist their support to strengthen his authority. By his favor and protection, amid the general ruin, they increased greatly in power and wealth; but, during this period of anarchy and disorder, grievous abuses crept into the one, while ignorance and corruption degraded the other. The metropolitan Cyril, a Russian, keenly sensible of these evils, was indefatigable in his efforts to correct them. By his direction a synod was convened in 1247 for the reformation of the Church and to inflict discipline upon the clergy. His patriotism equalled his religions zeal, and he labored incessantly to create among the Russian princes a spirit of harmony and unity as the only hope for the future.
Maximus, a Greek from Constantinople, followed Cyril on the metropolitan throne. Although a foreigner, he proved a worthy successor, and, like Cyril, endeavored to check the never-ending feuds and wars between the native princes. His virtues and Christian character inspired the Tatar conquerors with respect, and, by personal intercession with the "Horde," he added greatly to the power and prosperity of the Church. The clergy, under his direction, always sympathizing profoundly with the people, availed themselves of their increased influence and wealth to protect the victims of Tatar tyranny, and to assuage their misery and sufferings.
As Kiev was in ruins, Maximus transferred the primacy to Vladimir, then chief among the Russian cities. Moscow soon rose to importance under Ivan (John) I., sumamed "Kalita," from his habit of bestowing alms upon the poor from his purse.[2] This prince, established in authority and protected by the khan, maintained comparative peace and order within his principality; with its prosperity his power increased, and he became pre-eminent among the native magnates. He was wise and politic, ambitious yet patriotic. While keeping faith with his Tatar sovereign, he endeavored to unite the native princes under one head, which head he aspired to be, as the only means of securing present tranquillity for Russia and its eventual liberation. He also fully realized the vast power wielded by the Church, which, by affording protection to the people and maintaining them steadfast in the faith, had alone preserved any semblance of national life. This power it was his constant aim to increase and to enlist in support of his own authority. His purpose had the quick sympathy of the metropolitan Peter, who had succeeded Maximus. Ambition, patriotism, and religion were combined to one common end. Prince and primate were united in hearty, harmonious co-operation. By their joint action the primacy was transferred to Moscow, henceforth to be the capital of the empire and the seat of the head of the Church. Peter died before the transfer was effected, and his last words were a prophecy of the future greatness of the new imperial city, and of the glory therein awaiting the Church. His body was placed at the comer of the cathedral erected to commemorate the event, and he, with his illustrious successors, Alexis, Jonah, and the martyred Philip, are accounted the foundation stones of the Russian Church.
Ivan's efforts towards the creation of an independent and united Russia were recognized in the title bestowed upon him by his people of "the Restorer of the Country." They were, however, not destined to bear immediate fruition. The future of the empire was jeopardized, in successive reigns, by renewed dissensions among the princes and by dangers threatening from hostile neighbors.
The turbulent republics of Novgorod and of Pskov were ever at variance with the great prince of Moscow, but the powerful kingdom of Poland and Lithuania, extending beyond the Dnieper and including Kiev, was a more terrible enemy. Within its territory the influence of Rome was paramount.
In these critical times the Church in Russia, though torn by intestine dissensions and claims of rival pontiffs for pre-eminence, remained faithful to the national cause. Its acknowledged heads labored with unswerving patriotism against the difficulties surrounding the new birth of the nation. The dynasty of Ivan Kalita had been set aside by the khan. Dimitri II., the Tatar nominee, planned the retransfer of the primacy to Vladimir; but Alexis, the metropolitan, successfully maintained the supremacy of Moscow as both the religious and political capital. By his influence Ivan's family was restored to the throne, and the accession of Dimitri III., his grandson, was welcomed by the princes, who began to appreciate the policy advocated by the Church, of hereditary succession and of union under the most powerful of their number.
The activity of the Church was further manifested in its own domain by the erection of innumerable churches in the different cities and by an extraordinary development of monastic life, which led to the creation of many great and powerful religious establishments. The most celebrated among them is the monastery of the Troïtsa, or the Trinity, near Moscow, founded by St. Sergius of Radonegl. Like St. Anthony of the Petcherski, St. Sergius retired to the wilderness to lead a hermit's life in a little wooden hut built by himself, and which he called the "Source of Life." From this humble origin sprang the "ever glorious Lavra" of the Troïtsa, destined, on many a memorable occasion, to be the bulwark and preserver of the national existence. Under the blessing of Providence, favored and fostered by the princes of Moscow, it increased with unexampled rapidity in riches and consideration, and became a city and fortress as well as a monastery.
Macarius, in the seventeenth century, after describing its wealth and splendor, its buildings and churches, dwells on the extent and strength of its walls and bastions, on its armory "furnished with cannon without number," "with arms and accoutrements for more than thirty thousand men," and "its guns in numberless quantities."[3] The military glory of this sacred fortress dates from the great victory of the Don. When Dimitri went forth to do battle with the Tatar, St. Sergius gave him his blessing, and sent his brother monks, Peresvet and Osliab, to fight by the prince's side.
Dimitri III., "the Donskoï," ascended the throne in 1362. Skilful and prudent in warfare, chivalrous, while politic, in dealing with his rivals, beloved by his people, he was also devoted to the Church, whose vast influence was constantly exerted in his behalf. Victorious in repelling Polish invasions, he finally succeeded in uniting the whole country under his sway.
The metropolitan Alexis, to whom, more than to any one, were due the establishment of the empire and the revival of Russian nationality, lived to see the fruition of his labors. He was very old, but, while yet alive, the patriarch of Constantinople, with indecorous haste, moved perhaps by anxiety at the progress of the Boman Church in Poland, appointed Cyprian as his successor. The great prince indignantly resented this unseemly premature act, and Cyprian retired to Kiev. At Alexis's death Dimitri hurried his favorite, Mitai, to Constantinople to obtain the investiture, although he was not a prelate of the Church. He died on the way, and his companion, Pimen, fraudulently secured his own nomination by forged letters of credence. On his return he was thrust into prison for this scandalous abuse of confidence, and Cyprian was summoned from Kiev.
During these ecclesiastical disputes the Tatar power was broken by the great battle of the Don, and Dimitri, henceforth the Donskoï, was hailed as "The Deliverer of the Country." The victory over Mamai, the Tatar khan, was complete, but its fruits were lost; Dimitri returned to Moscow to enjoy his triumph, instead of pursuing and annihilating the enemy. His glory and increasing power aroused the jealousy of his neighbors, and his supineness revived the feuds of the native princes. The empire was attacked from the west, and its unity within was disturbed, when its independence was again threatened by its formidable and hereditary foe. Toktamuish, a descendant of Genghis Khan, destroyed the shattered forces of Mamai, seized upon the khanate, and, with fresh legions from the depths of Asia, swept over the empire and brought Russia once more under the Tatar yoke. Dimitri returned to his ruined capital to find the Church deserted by its head. Cyprian had fled to Tver for safety, and the prince, indignant at his pusillanimity, removed him from office and installed Pimen.
The terrible calamities of the barbaric invasion were accompanied by anarchy in the Church. The clergy had become corrupt and rapacious; its ranks were swelled by multitudes of greedy, selfish drones, who throve and fattened in sloth and idleness. The people despised them for their ignorance, vices, and gluttony, groaned under their oppression and rebelled against their exactions. Popular indignation found public expression in sects hostile to the Church. Amid disputes of rival pontiffs, the degradation of the clergy, foreign invasion, domestic treachery and revolt, the whole fabric of the empire, social, political, and religious, seemed tottering to its fall. Some degree of order was restored by the energetic and skilful policy of Dimitri, assisted by dissensions among his enemies.
The death of Pimen left Cyprian sole claimant of ecclesiastical sovereignty, and, in the succeeding reign, he returned to the capital and united the whole Orthodox Church of Russia and Poland under his jurisdiction. His subsequent career marks his place in the history of his country. While he may be reproached for his hasty flight from Moscow, the services which he rendered the Church and the nation cannot be overestimated. By his Christian virtues, his zeal, tempered by prudence, his discretion and ability, he preserved the existence of the Orthodox faith in Poland and Lithuania, whose rulers professed the Latin creed, favored the efforts of Rome, and viewed with jealousy the control of a foreign prelate over their Orthodox subjects. As metropolitan, Cyprian's administration was wise and energetic; he repressed disorder, corrected abuses, and strictly enforced purity of morals and discipline among the clergy. He encouraged the labors of St. Stephen and other missionaries of the Church, and established regular ecclesiastical government over the converted heathen tribes of the vast countries stretching to the Ural Mountains.
As patriot and statesman, he ably seconded the efforts of the great prince Vassili II., to recreate a free and independent Russia, conciliating the native princes, opposing the formidable pretensions of Vitoft, King of Poland, resisting, with all the power of the Church, the Tatars under Toktamuish and Tamerlane. When dying, in 1406, Cyprian wrote to the great prince and his boyars, to the clergy and the people, asking forgiveness of his offences, and giving them his benediction. Tears and lamentations followed the reading of his words at the altar of the great cathedral, and from this time metropolitans of Moscow, at the approach of death, have addressed similar farewell messages to the nation.
Cyprian's death was a public calamity. His successor, Photius, a Greek, had no sympathy with the national sentiment, and estranged both the people and the princes by too zealous care of the temporal interests of his see. Vitoft, no longer checked by Cyprian's influence, determined to free the Orthodox Church within his dominions from the control of a foreign prelate. The see of Kiev was declared independent of that of Moscow in 1415; rejoined to it a few years later, its independence was again and finally established in 1433.
Under Vassili III. the fortunes of Russia sank to their lowest ebb. Civil wars, foreign invasion, and Tatar tyranny brought the country to the verge of ruin. The metropolitan see remained vacant after the death of Photius, and anarchy reigned supreme in Church and State.
During a short respite from turmoil and trouble, Jonah of Riazan was elected metropolitan by a synod of bishops, but already the patriarch had appointed Isidore of Thessalonica, bishop of Illyria, as primate of Russia. With his advent upon the scene opens an interesting phase of ecclesiastical history, in which, not only Russia, but the other powers of the civilized world were concerned.
The Byzantine empire, a mere shadow of its former greatness, was tottering to its fall. The emperors, dependent alternately on Turkish forbearance and European favor, sued to or slighted both Moslem and Christian powers according to their fluctuating fortunes, cunningly, and with deliberation, playing one against the other.
John Palæologus, as long as Bajazet spared his throne, turned an indifferent ear to papal advances, but when he had been threatened he had humbled himself before the pope, kissed his slipper at St. Peter's, and led his mule by the bridle. The Greek people, on the contrary, were fanatically attached to their ancient religion, although among them it had degenerated to mere formalism.
The Roman Church was torn by faction and schism; rival pontiffs disputed St. Peter's chair, the pope's supremacy had been denied by its prelates and councils, as well as by princes, and his authority was no longer absolute over either the Western Church or the Western powers.
When John Palæologus, again menaced by the Turks under Amurat II., turned to Europe for succor. Pope Eugenius IV. eagerly seized upon the opportunity thus presented of reconciling and uniting the Churches of the East and of the West, in the hope that the glory of this achievement would, by re-establishing the supremacy of Rome over the whole Church, redound to his advantage and silence all opposition to his claim to be its legitimate head. He relied upon the support of Isidore, an adroit, ambitious schemer, distinguished for his eloquence and diplomatic tact, celebrated for theological erudition and learning. He was, moreover, a personal friend of the pope, whose influence is supposed to have assisted in his elevation to the exalted position of chief of the Russian Church.
In furtherance of his plans Eugenius convoked an œcumenical council in Italy, where his own influence was paramount. All the Western powers were present, and, by specious promises of material assistance, he induced the Greeks to join. The participation of so powerful a member of the Eastern Church as Russia was most important, and Isidore had scarcely taken possession of his see ere he was summoned, and craved of Vassili permission, to attend. Vassili yielded a reluctant assent, and charged Isidore to strenuously uphold the Orthodox faith, and to return with it intact. "Our fathers," said he, "and our ancestors would never listen to the reunion of the Greek and Latin religions, nor have I any such intention. Yet you may go, if such be your desire; I will not oppose your departure, but remember the purity of our faith and come back with it unsullied."[4]
The council met at Ferrara in 1438; adjourned to Florence, and separated in 1439. Its sessions were violent and stormy, its debates acrimonious and endless. Accord between the opposing parties which composed it was hopeless, but the emperor and the pope were determined not to lose the fruit of their labors, and to secure, by any possible means, at least the semblance of a union. Private negotiations supplemented public discussions, and with more profitable results. Isidore was promised a cardinal's hat, and, by similar influences, opposition was gradually reduced to the single voice of Mark of Ephesus, who denounced the compact in unmeasured terms, and was compelled to seek safety in flight.
The reunion of the Churches was proclaimed by the council, and the articles of reconciliation, subscribed to unanimously by the members present, bore on four important points. They declared,
That either leavened or unleavened bread might be used in the Eucharist.
That, as regards purgatory, the righteous enjoy eternal happiness in heaven; unrepentant sinners suffer eternally; while those who have relapsed into sin after baptism and repentance are purified in some intermediate state, by various torments, until penance be accomplished; and, at the resurrection of the body on the last day, all men must render an account before the judgment-seat of God.
That the pope of Rome is the vicar of Jesus Christ, the head of the Church on earth, and the patriarch of Constantinople holds the second place after him.
That the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father and from the Son.
The pope and the emperor reaped their rewards. Eugenius was hailed as the sole vicar of Christ on earth, the faithful shepherd who had brought the sheep of the East and the West into one fold after a separation of centuries, and John returned to Constantinople, loaded with presents and with abundant promises for the future, to be, however, but scantily fulfilled.
To Isidore, made cardinal and apostolic legate, the ultimate results proved less fortunate. His return to Russia was awaited with the keenest impatience and anxiety, intensified by the pastoral addresses, which, issued by him from time to time, had preceded his arrival.
Finally, in the great cathedral of the Assumption at Moscow, before the great prince and an august assembly of the highest dignitaries of the Church and the State, and, to the profound astonishment of them all, he celebrated mass after the custom of the Latin Church, and solemnly proclaimed the act of union. Wonder at the innovation in the service, respect for a decree of a council called œcumenical, and for the illustrious names of the emperor, the patriarch, and the Greek fathers appended to it, held the vast assemblage mute for a space; but soon indignation overcame amazement. Vassili, although a weak and vacillating prince, was firmly attached to the national belief, and, recovering from his stupefaction, he protested indignantly against the sacrifice of his own and his people's religious birthright. He passionately apostrophized the metropolitan as a recreant priest, treacherous to his holy trust, a false teacher, and heretic.
A synod of bishops immediately condemned and disavowed the action of the council. Isidore was deposed and sentenced to confinement; he escaped from his prison to Rome, where, by favor of the pope, he enjoyed the barren title of Bishop of Russia, and, at the fall of the Byzantine empire, was made patriarch of Constantinople under the jurisdiction of Rome.
Gregory, one of Isidore's disciples, and a partisan of the union, became metropolitan of Kiev in 1443, by the protection of Casimir, King of Poland; he endeavored, unsuccessfully, to extend his sway over the see of Moscow, and was, with his doctrines, excommunicated by the Russian bishops, who preserved the Muscovite Church steadfast in the ancient faith, while Kiev and Southern Russia fell under the domination of the pope.
At Constantinople, although the people and the great body of the Church rejected the acts of the council and persevered in asserting their independence of papal authority, the emperor and the patriarch acquiesced in the union. As henceforth any Orthodox patriarchal confirmation of a metropolitan in Russia was impossible, Jonah of Riazan, who had been elected prior to Isidore's appointment, remained, by common consent, in charge of the Church, and in 1448 was formally consecrated as its head by a synod of bishops. He endeavored in vain to bring the Churches of Poland and Lithuania under his control, and for his efforts was excommunicated by the pope; despairing of success against the will of the Polish king, at that time a more powerful potentate than the great prince of Russia, he abandoned the attempt and relinquished the empty title of Kiev, to assume that of metropolitan of Moscow, by which he and his successors were thenceforth designated.
From this period dates the complete independence of the Church of Russia. The necessity of its separation from the see of Constantinople was recognized by all the Orthodox members of the Greek communion, and with them all it continued in close bonds of spiritual union.