Nostalgia of the Church Abroad

Protopriest Pavel Adelheim (+2013)

 

We are all, in different ways,
Scorched by fate.
Some took a fortress,
Some know Siberia.
That is why now
Priests and deacons
Pray for the health
Of all the members of the Sovnarkom.

- Sergei Yesenin

 

The Church Abroad is tormented by nostalgia and the promise to reunite with the "Church in Russia" upon liberation from Soviet power. Reasons have accumulated that hasten the belief that the time has already come. The Soviet regime has played on the feelings of Russian émigrés many times, and each time it won. And they lost bitterly and paid dearly for their trustfulness, because their feelings were sincere.

The Russian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate has always played on the side of Soviet power. Not because it loved Soviet power, but because it loved power as such, and was flesh of its flesh, like the entire Soviet nomenklatura.

The naive West understands “Soviet power” as an ideological structure that will end once it is renamed. “Soviet power” constantly changes its skin: its own and that of its repressive institutions. The West believes that the repressive “Cheka” changed when it was renamed “NKVD,” was reborn when it was called “GPU,” became kinder as the “MGB,” was humanized as the “KGB,” and fully democratized into the “FSB.” Now it engages in human rights work, charity, and loves children.

In the blink of an eye, the Communist Party of the Soviet Union disappeared from the country, as if it had never existed. Where did the multimillion-member party suddenly go? The CPSU never existed. There was a myth about the CPSU. What really existed was the nomenklatura, which has not gone anywhere: it was, is, and will be, changing its skin, preserving its people and its essence.

“Soviet power” expresses the content of public consciousness, which changes slowly—God willing, over centuries—under the influence of objective reality. The internal process continues even today, but it lacks an ethical imperative. It is oriented toward the collective, not the individual, who is always indebted. We sang “where man breathes so freely,” while half the country perished in the camps. The West admired our humanism. In Tula, they make samovars. Workers secretly take out parts. When assembled, it inevitably turns out to be a machine gun. We understand why, but the West does not.

Our emissaries many times persuaded the émigrés to return. Always successfully. Metropolitan Nikolai (Yarushevich), a sincere patriot and remarkable preacher, took an active part in these campaigns. When he was asked, “Master, why do you lie that there is freedom of conscience in our country?” he would reply: “If your mother is a drunkard, will you shout about it to the whole world?”

The consequences of repatriation have been described in the West. Recall the fate of Marina Tsvetaeva, who returned before the war. Recall the Cossacks, returned after the war. But how can one list them all?! What more is needed? The facts are displeasing—they want to hope. To each his own.

Why doesn’t the ROCOR analyze the experience of the return of the “non-commemorators” to the ROC-MP? These were confessors, returning from camps, exiles—whole generations cast overboard by Soviet reality. Many of them are now glorified as new martyrs. How did their fates unfold? Some did not live to see our time, others adapted, and some failed to do so. The schism has been formally overcome. The opposition between “Soviet” and “anti-Soviet” consciousness has outlived Soviet power. Politics had nothing to do with it. “Anti-Soviet” consciousness expressed fidelity to Christian ideals, rejection of lies, and orientation toward the person. “Soviet” consciousness meant conformism, justified falsehood, and sacrificed the person. Two life stances were reflected in worldview, religion, art, and science.

By 1927, two directions of ecclesiastical consciousness had emerged, each defining the relationship between the Church and the state differently. One position was expressed in the “Solovki Epistle” by bishops imprisoned in the Solovki concentration camp. The opposing position was set forth in the “Declaration” of Metropolitan Sergius (Stragorodsky). The opposition of these positions was fundamental and predetermined the division of the Church into “Sergianists” and “non-commemorators.”

Upon returning, the “non-commemorators” remained second-class people in subordinate roles. Archbishop Hermogenes (Golubev) gave the ROC-MP his heart and all his strength. He ended his life in confinement, deprived of worship and freedom. Who deceived him, locked him up for the rest of his days in the Zhirovitsy Monastery, and never responded to his appeals? [This refers to Alexy Ridiger, the future Patriarch of the MP.]

The West did not understand what happened in London? The 1988 Statute of the ROC-MP allowed Metropolitan Anthony (Bloom) to adjust the Statute for the Diocese of Sourozh on the condition of approval by Moscow. The Statute remained unapproved. Bishop Basil (Osborne) realized that Metropolitan Anthony’s hopes had not come true, and he left for Constantinople.

The “Act of Canonical Communion” is built on the principle of the Russian expression “yes [but] no”: “I permit, but I forbid.” One point contradicts another and requires additional clarification—for example, the third contradicts the ninth. The eleventh and twelfth points nullify the meaning of the tenth. A direct repetition of the London story. The election of the Primate and each bishop, the establishment of dioceses—is approved by Moscow. But what if it does not approve? A coordination procedure is not provided, and the decision on the appointment will be made by Moscow.

Can a crippled scheme, where nothing is agreed upon, truly serve as a legal basis for the existence of the ROCOR(L) under new conditions? It’s full of blank spots that provoke arbitrariness. The declaration of autonomy is not protected by any mechanism and will remain an empty claim. What kind of kindergarten is this!

Could they not find a competent lawyer? Have professors of canon law gone extinct? Law always protects the weak. Everything that is not explicitly written in law will be interpreted by the strong in their favor when the time comes.

It is useless to explain to émigrés the elementary truths of Soviet psychology. Their experience teaches them nothing: “No one has ever been saved from disaster by experience.” The descendants of émigrés believe that Russia is still the same country their grandfathers left. We live in another Russia, one afflicted by the loss of moral foundations. They have been destroyed in the state, in the Church, and in society. When conscience is lost, even law cannot help. If repentance does not awaken conscience, the outcome will be fatal. The century-long call to repentance that the ROCOR directed to Russia has now fallen silent...

 

Russian source:

http://internetsobor.org/index.php/novosti/mirovoe-pravoslavie/moskovskaya-patriarkhiya/protoierej-pavel-adelgejm-nostalgiya-zarubezhnoj-tserkvi