Alexey Zaytsev | November 2015
It would seem that this is a
question that should no longer be a question. Nevertheless, it remains one. The
lack of clarity is largely due to the fact that even in the pre-revolutionary
Church, for a long time, the normative view (at least in academic theology) was
that sacraments exist in heretical and schismatic communities. This same view
was widely held in ROCOR. And in global Orthodoxy it remains, in practice,
without alternatives. Even in the present-day True Orthodox Churches there are
people, and even individual bishops, who in some way waver and doubt—what if
sacraments do exist in heretical and schismatic communities—and they make
references to some pre-revolutionary authors or authors from ROCOR.
What is the reason for the
conviction held by those who consider themselves Orthodox, that sacraments can
exist outside the Church—that is, in heresy and schism? This conviction is
connected with theology that goes back to Augustine. Since the 17th century, it
deeply penetrated Orthodox scholastic theology under the influence of Catholic
and Protestant theology and became the general line.
What does this theology say about
the sacraments? This theology assumes that the sacraments are certain
instruments of grace autonomous from the Church and, in a certain sense, even
from God. In Latin scholastic theology, the sacraments are defined as instrumental
causes of grace (while it is, of course, stipulated that the principal cause is
Christ). This teaching is briefly formulated as follows: the sacraments are
effective by virtue of the action being performed. That is, if a lawfully
ordained bishop or priest performs everything that the Church performs in a
given case (for example, in baptism—threefold immersion or pouring plus the
corresponding verbal formula—the so-called sacramental formula), and at the
same time has the intention to perform precisely what the Church performs, then
the sacraments must necessarily be accomplished. That is, grace acts as a
result of human actions (albeit with the qualification that it is by Christ’s
institution), and the sacraments thus become a kind of sacred technology.
A priest, if he is properly
ordained, is an operator who has access to the sacraments as instruments; the
priest possesses sacramental power. Therefore, if the priest has the intention
to perform certain actions that the Church performs, and he performs them, the
sacrament is genuine by the very fact of its performance. And through it, a
particular type of grace is inevitably imparted. At the same time, it is stated
outright that the faith of both the one performing the sacrament and the one
receiving it plays no role whatsoever. The sacraments are absolutely
autonomous.
For example, take some kind of
generator, fill it with gasoline, set everything up correctly, start it—and it
will work, producing electric energy. And it does not matter at all who starts
it and in what exact place—here or there.
Augustine, in fact, said that
among heretics and schismatics, if they are ordained according to all the
rules—that is, if the technology of the sacrament of priesthood is observed—all
the sacraments are real and effective. After all, these heretics and schismatics
use the very same instruments of grace-production, although stolen ones. He
said exactly that: “stolen sacraments.” The heretics stole the instruments from
the Church and use them. Since they are “thieves,” the sacraments operate for
them not unto salvation, but unto condemnation. But the sacraments themselves
are the same—genuine sacraments of the Church.
Modern ecumenists no longer speak
of operation unto condemnation. They say that the sacraments are salvific here,
there, and everywhere. Medieval intolerance has been replaced in them by modern
tolerance, but the very teaching on sacraments as autonomous instruments of
God's grace remains roughly the same, though perhaps expressed in different,
less technological terminology. And, I repeat, many Orthodox think about the
sacraments in roughly the same way, even if they do not consider themselves
ecumenists—though they may also not use such specific terminology. Many do so
simply out of false conservatism—because in synodal theology this view (even
with the use of technological terminology) was normative. All dogmatics
textbooks taught precisely this. There were only a few fortunate exceptions,
such as Saint Ignatius Brianchaninov. But in the pre-revolutionary Russian
Church these exceptions, alas, did not set the tone. Such is our
historical-theological background in sacramentology, alas.
One may also add that such
sacramentology is, in its own way, attractive to people due to its simplicity,
clarity, logic, and consistency—there are clear rules, the observance of which
guarantees grace—and this is reassuring.
But Orthodox Christians oriented
toward the patristic tradition should remember, first of all, that from the
patristic point of view, clarity and logical consistency are not such adequate
and reliable criteria. Secondly, it should be remembered (at least by those
Orthodox who are at least generally familiar with Orthodox doctrine) that in
the Augustinian tradition in which this teaching was formed, grace is
understood as created—that is, as a power separated from God, created effects
in the souls of those receiving the sacraments. And this grace, being separate
from God and created, is logically and psychologically quite easy to connect
with the sacraments as sacred actions, as instruments used by operator-clergy
to distribute this grace.
However, is it even necessary to
remind that, from the Orthodox point of view, grace is an uncreated power? It
is God Himself—living and acting—His own energy, inseparable from His essence.
And in every gift of grace, God is present wholly and entirely. With such a
concept of grace in mind, it becomes psychologically difficult to attach
it—that is, God Himself—to the sacraments as to some sort of instrumental
causes. If, when speaking of grace, we are speaking of the free gift of a free
God, then the notion of sacraments as instruments for extracting grace can
simply be set aside. And in that case, the sacraments cannot be viewed by us as
something autonomous, operating on their own, but only as operating within a
certain context. And that context is the Church.
The Apostle Paul formulated the
teaching about the Church in several brief, concise aphorisms. First of all,
the Church is the Body of Christ. Moreover, in the patristic tradition, the
formula "the Church is the Body of Christ" was understood quite
literally. In Christ, the fullness of the Godhead is manifested bodily. The
Church is the Body of Christ, and accordingly, in Her this entire fullness, by
the gift of Pentecost, is also present.
It should also be kept in mind
that in patristic theology there was no concept of the sacraments as certain
separate, specific sacred rites; there was no understanding of the sacraments
exclusively as the seven well-known rites, which has become widespread in
recent centuries. This tradition is rather late; in Orthodox academic theology
it took shape no earlier than the 17th century. And, of course, it ought to be
abandoned.
The Holy Fathers understood the
sacraments as the direct actions of God in the Body of the Church, means of
deification. These deifying actions are numerous, if not to say—countless. In
one or another specific didactic context, from among these actions one can
extract or logically deduce the most important ones: baptism, the Eucharist,
and so on.
The deifying actions of God
(which must be distinguished from other actions of God—creation, providence,
judgment, etc.) are manifold, but all these actions exist only within the
Church—in the Body of Christ, and not somewhere outside of it. Outside the Church,
God also acts, of course, but in other ways. God acts everywhere, but not in
the same way everywhere. As Creator and Provider, He acts in the whole world,
is present even in the angels who have fallen away from God, and in pagans, and
in unrepentant sinners. But as Savior, who grants deification, He acts only in
the community of His faithful, in ecclesial communion, in the Church. Heresy
and schism are, by definition, outside the Church. As stated in the 1st canon
of the Second Ecumenical Council, every heresy is subject to anathema, to
complete exclusion. The question of whether sacraments are possible outside the
Church, in the patristic tradition, is thus simply dismissed as meaningless.
This teaching was formulated in
clear, aphoristic expressions by St. Cyprian of Carthage in the middle of the
3rd century. St. Cyprian said that outside the Church there are no sacraments,
no baptism, no grace, no salvation. Among modern ecumenists there is a very
widespread myth, stemming largely from the Roman Catholics, that in the
subsequent era the Church, in the person of other Holy Fathers and at councils,
while respecting Cyprian of Carthage, supposedly revised and rejected this
teaching of his. This is truly a myth, because in not a single Father, at not a
single council accepted by the Fathers, do we find refutations of Cyprian of
Carthage (unless, of course, one considers Pope Stephen, Augustine, etc., to be
great ecclesiastical authorities). Moreover, all subsequent Fathers thought in
the very same direction. For example, I will cite the testimonies of Athanasius
the Great and John Chrysostom, but testimonies of a different kind are simply
not to be found among the Fathers.
Saint Athanasius the Great
polemicized against the Arians, and this at a time when there were already
several of their factions. All these Arians had formal succession of
ordinations from the Apostles (which is now incorrectly called apostolic
succession, as if apostolic succession were again some sort of mechanics, and
not the succession of the very faith), and they formally performed the
sacraments according to the Church’s ordinance—baptizing in the name of the
Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and not in the name of Arius or
someone else. Nevertheless, Saint Athanasius calls their baptism spurious,
having only the appearance of baptism.
I quote: “…the baptism
administered by them, having only an apparent form, in reality in no way
contributes to piety.” Apart from external resemblance, it has nothing in
common with the baptism of the Church, which brings forth into eternal life:
“…the baptism seemingly administered by them is different and not true,
although outwardly they pronounce, according to what is written, the name of
the Father and the Son.”
For birth into eternal life, the
correct performance of the rite of baptism and the invocation of the names of
the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit must necessarily be joined with the
right faith—both of those administering baptism and of those being baptized:
“It is not he who merely says: Lord! who administers, but he who unites with
this name the right faith. Therefore, the Savior did not simply command to
baptize, but says: first teach, and then baptize in the name of the Father and
of the Son and of the Holy Spirit (Matt. 28:19), so that from the teaching
right faith may arise, and with faith be joined the sacramental initiation of
baptism.”
And such an assessment is applied
by St. Athanasius not only to the Arians, but to all heretics without
exception: “And many other heresies, uttering only the Names, but thinking
wrongly, and therefore, as has been said, not having sound faith, render the
water they administer useless, as lacking in piety; thus the one sprinkled by
them is more defiled by impiety than cleansed. So also the pagans, although
they pronounce with their lips the name of God, are accused of godlessness,
because they do not truly know the existing and true God, the Father of our
Lord Jesus Christ. So too the Manicheans, Phrygians, and the disciples of Paul
of Samosata, though they pronounce the Names, are nevertheless heretics.”
For the comfort of those present,
I will remind that these words were written by St. Athanasius during the time
of Arian dominance, when they were the recognized authority of the official
Church, while the Orthodox remained in the minority. But the grace of God is
not subject to administrative, as one would now say, resources, but binds
itself only to the true faith. “On the contrary, erring in this, the wretched
people will, of course, remain forsaken by the Divinity. Earthly splendor will
not follow them after their death, and when they see this Lord, whom they
denied, sitting on the throne of His Father and judging the living and the
dead, then they will not be able to call for help any of those who now deceive
them, because they too will be seen as judged and repenting of their
wrongdoings and impiety” (Against the Arians, Discourse 2, 42–43).
If one extrapolates the logic of
St. Athanasius—that “in the name of the Son” among the Arians is not in the
name of the consubstantial Son of God, but in the name of a supposed created
son, which the true Christ is not (i.e., in the name of a mental idol)—to
modern heresies (which for the ecumenists are no longer even considered
heresies!), the result will be exactly the same. “In the name of the Son” in
Nestorianism means in the name of a hypostatically divided pseudo-Christ, who
was anathematized by the saints. “In the name of the Son” in Monophysitism is
in the name of an imaginary being with a single composite nature, conceived as
separate from the Church—the Body of Christ. “In the name of the Son” in
Catholicism is in the name of a fictitious being who, allegedly together with
the Father, causes the procession of the Spirit and founds the Church not on
Peter who confesses rightly and passes on his apostolic succession to all who
confess Christ rightly after him, but on an invented Peter who supposedly founded
an infallible Roman See, where the Spirit of Truth allegedly took up permanent
earthly residence—with no possibility of being deregistered or relocated. We
shall not even begin to list the various “in the name of…” in Protestantism,
and so on.
(In general, one should not be
deceived by the formal coincidence of rituals, words, phrases, individual
definitions, or even entire lengthy texts. Depending on the context of faith,
these texts can play entirely different roles and signify entirely different
things.)
With the ecumenists, it turns out
that all of this constitutes a single, many-faced, many-named, and
many-essenced god, whose body—the pseudo-church—exists apart from the dogmas,
apart from the true faith. It is not illumined by the grace of the Holy Spirit;
its members remain in ignorance of the truth. For the ecumenists preach a sort
of agnosticism, claiming that we cannot know God and cannot judge concerning
dogmatic subtleties. Accordingly, in ecumenical Orthodoxy, Christ is named as
some kind of agnoitic, deprived of divine omniscience, not illumined by the
Spirit of Truth—a pseudo-Christ.
For clarity, here is another
quotation—from St. John Chrysostom (I repeat, there is no other teaching among
the Holy Fathers, unless one tries at all costs to read something else into
them): “Let not the gatherings of heretics deceive you, for their baptism is
not enlightenment. They receive baptism in the body, but their soul is not
illumined. Just as Simon [apparently] was baptized, but was not enlightened by
God. In the same way, so are they found to be.”
The patristic teaching presents a
psychological difficulty for many people for various reasons, particularly
because, they say, “but how can it be—we know of genuine miracles,
manifestations of faith, and spiritual gifts outside the Church.” I repeat, the
manifold grace of God acts everywhere: in heretical communities, in schism,
among pagans, and wherever one may be. It is not a question of absolute
gracelessness outside the Church. God, I repeat once again, acts by His grace
everywhere—but not in the same way everywhere. The modes of grace’s operation
differ. He desires the salvation of all (and we must follow Him in this), and
strives to call all to the truth. But not all in turn follow His will.
Therefore, not all come to His true Church, the place of salvation.
But God saves (deifies), makes
people sons of God after the image of His true Son, Jesus Christ, only in the
Church, which is His Body (from this it does not at all directly follow that
those who lived on earth outside the Church are necessarily unsaved). Hence the
teaching, unambiguously formulated by Cyprian of Carthage: outside the Church
there is no salvation—that is, no deification—and there are no means of
deification: no sacraments. The sacraments are not a technology, but the
actions of God, one of whose names is Truth. The sacraments of God are not
performed in the darkness of ignorance, in confessional error, in a state of
indifference toward God, toward His revelation, in religious omnivorousness.
It is appropriate here to recall
Maximus the Confessor, who polemicized with the heretics of his time, with a
then still quite young heresy—the heresy of Monothelitism. Responding to their
various compromise documents, which were therefore at times mutually
contradictory, he said: “What kind of sacramental initiation can they perform,
or what Spirit can descend upon the sacred actions performed by such people?”
St. Maximus is speaking here not so much about people obstinate in some
particular heresy, but rather about those indifferent to the faith—people who,
depending on political demands, changed dogmatic definitions. And by changing
dogmatic definitions, maneuvering between them, they, according to Maximus the
Confessor, thereby anathematized themselves. Therefore, what spirit would
descend upon such sacraments?—he asks rhetorically—it is clear: not the Holy
One.
Finally, what is the basis for
the mistaken belief that the Church supposedly revised the ecclesiology and
sacramentology of Cyprian of Carthage, who is said to have been too categorical
and rigorist on this issue, and allegedly somehow softened his rigorism? If one
looks at the argumentation of those who make such claims, it boils down to
references to the practice of rites of reception (this is found, in particular,
in the conciliar documents of the Moscow Patriarchate of the Russian Orthodox
Church regarding its attitude toward non-Orthodoxy).
The argument goes as follows. The
Ecumenical Councils, the canons of Saint Basil the Great, and the historical
practice of the Church show that not all heretics were received by the Church
through baptism, as would have been necessary if the Church, following Cyprian
of Carthage, did not recognize the baptism of heretics. And since some were
received not through baptism, it means that their baptism was recognized as
genuine. And therefore, the sacraments in those heresies from which the Church
receives converts not through baptism (and many are even received without
chrismation, only through repentance—renunciation of heresy), are valid, i.e.,
they are true Church sacraments, and the members of those heretical communities
are truly baptized (born from above), chrismated, truly bishops and priests,
ordained by the Holy Spirit (while, at the same time, it is often explained
that the Spirit in the sacraments of heretics may act ineffectively, not unto
salvation, or be in a “frozen” state—and other such contortions).
Such erroneous logic arises from
a basic mistake—the conflation of the dogmatic and the practical aspects, of akribeia
and economia. If one carefully reads, for example, the canon of Basil
the Great (the 1st Canonical Epistle), which is most often cited on this issue,
it becomes clear that he was responding to specific questions from his
correspondent (the questions themselves have not been preserved), and therefore
this is not a systematic text, but a combination of heterogeneous aspects
within a common theme—much is implied by default (modern readers have different
assumptions, and therefore different interpretations of the text). Nevertheless,
in St. Basil’s letter there is a fairly clear distinction between, on the one
hand, dogmatic discourse, akribeia, and on the other—custom and economia.
Dogmatics is expressed by him in words entirely in the spirit of St. Cyprian of
Carthage: that upon falling away from the Church, even in the case of schism,
the succession of grace is broken. And bishops who have fallen away cease to be
bishops. They lose the sacred rank given to them by God for service in the
Church, and therefore cannot bring forth into eternal life—that is, cannot
truly baptize, and so on.
In the rest, Basil the Great
addresses questions related to Church practice—the various methods of reception
into the Church from heresies and schisms, which existed in different local
traditions. He provides commentary on these various methods, explaining them by
custom and economia. And he, in fact, shows that while the dogmatic
position remains unchanged (even if only implicitly), the practice of reception
into the Church can differ—there is no connection whatsoever between the method
of reception from heretical communities and the presence or absence of grace in
them—all are graceless by definition. Upon the falling away of any community
from the unity of the Church, the succession of grace is broken (cases of
divisions due to misunderstanding are not considered here). But when receiving
those who come from these fallen communities into the Church, they may, by economia
(for the sake, as St. Basil puts it, of ecclesiastical edification), be
received not through baptism, as would be required by akribeia—according
to the unchanging dogmatic position—but by another means that facilitates
joining the portion of those being saved: through chrismation or repentance,
according to the custom of a given local Church.
St. Anastasius of Sinai, in one
of his questions and answers, gives a psychological explanation of economia—an
explanation that initially even shocks some people (for example, Fr. Georges
Florovsky at one time). In response to the question of why we do not receive
heretics through baptism (the question implicitly assumes that they should be
received through baptism), he answers in the sense that they are ashamed to
consider themselves unbaptized, and therefore we do not baptize them, so as not
to hinder their joining the Church. It is assumed that the rite of baptism
performed outside the Church, if it does not fundamentally contradict the
Church's own rite (for example, if they are baptized in the name of the Father
and the Son and the Holy Spirit, and not in the name of some Montanus), may be
left unrepeated. But from this it does not follow that the performance of an
externally identical rite outside the Church is the performance of a true
sacrament of the Church, a participation in the deifying gift of grace.
If we proceed from the
understanding that the sacraments are not sacred machines that automatically
activate grace, but are, first and foremost, the very action of God, then such
an economical approach to those “spurious sacraments” performed outside
the Church is no problem at all.
God, as He Himself knows, will
endow the person uniting with the Church with those gifts that are ordinarily
imparted through specific sacred rites. For economia is, above all, a
divine act—an exception made by God Himself to the very rules established by
Him. The Holy Fathers have no teaching about any kind of absolute significance
of a specific rite (what would now be called a ritual or order of service) or
of the character of a sacrament for its realization—that is, for the action of
God. They have no doctrine of any inseparable connection between God’s action
and ritual forms. God is free, and there is always room with Him for exceptions
to the general order—for example, in the case of the martyrs, but not only
them.
Here is an exact quotation from
Venerable Anastasius of Sinai: “Why, if heretics turn to the Orthodox Church,
do we not rebaptize them?” — Answer: “If that were the case, a person would not
soon turn away from heresy, being ashamed to be rebaptized. Moreover, it is
known that through the laying on of hands of the priest and through prayer, the
Holy Spirit descends upon people, as is testified in the Acts of the Apostles.”
Another example, from an
18th-century source. Venerable Nikodemos the Hagiorite, in his edition of the
Greek Pedalion (Book of Canons), explains the fact of the reception into
the Church of Iconoclast bishops and priests without any rite at all, but only
through the anathematization of Iconoclasm, as follows: “The Seventh Ecumenical
Council accepted the ordination of heretics and iconoclasts, without ordaining
them anew. But this was a matter of economia for the sake of the great
multitude of iconoclasts who were being united at that time.”
Another example. The
authoritative interpreter of the canons, Zonaras (on the 7th canon of the
Second Ecumenical Council), writes: “These heretics are not rebaptized, because
with regard to holy baptism they differ from us in nothing, but are baptized in
the same way as the Orthodox.” Here it is indicated that these heretics have
preserved the rite (character) of baptism (they are baptized in the same way as
the Orthodox), and therefore it may be left unrepeated. But from this, I repeat
once more for certainty, it by no means follows that this rite of baptism is a
means of deification when it is performed by heretics. No. In such a case, it
remains—if one may so express it—a symbol without that which is symbolized, or
more precisely, a false symbol, one that unites with no true reality.
Outside the Church, in heresy or
schism, the formal succession of ordinations and the formal performance of
sacraments remain merely external formal signs—a false symbol that has lost its
connection with what is symbolized. But upon joining the Church, this
connection is, as it were, restored (the temporal framework plays no role
here—all the actions of God are in eternity) and becomes effective in the way
known to God, who acts in the Church. That is, the verbal and ritual symbols of
heretics, even if formally identical to those of the Church, do not yet signify
the same grace-filled reality.
Russian source: http://internetsobor.org/index.php/stati/materialy-konferentsij/est-li-tainstva-u-eretikov
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