Posts tagged 1923

Hanna v. Malick: the Russy-Antacky schism in the Michigan Supreme Court

St. Raphael Hawaweeny

Prior to Bishop Raphael Hawaweeny’s death in 1915, pretty much all the Syrian (Antiochian) Orthodox in America recognized his authority. This included St. George Syrian Orthodox Church of Grand Rapids, Michigan, which was incorporated in 1910. The parish was under St. Raphael, and all seemed to be well. But in February 1915, St. Raphael died, and his flock split: some recognized the authority of the Patriarch of Antioch, and others the authority of the Russian Holy Synod and its North American Archbishop. This marks the beginning of the “Russy-Antacky” schism, which divided Antiochian Americans for many years.

This split not only divided St. Raphael’s diocese, but individual parishes as well. At St. George in Grand Rapids, the priest came back from St. Raphael’s funeral and told his congregation to sign a declaration of loyalty to the Russian archbishop. Not everyone complied, and pro-Antioch parishioners insisted that their priest commemorate the Patriarch of Antioch in the Divine Liturgy. Meanwhile, the pro-Russian group tried to amend the parish articles of association to place church property under the control of the Russian Holy Synod. The factions went to court, culminating in Hanna v. Malick, a 1923 Michigan Supreme Court case.

The key question in the case is which faction — Russy or Antacky — should have control of the church property. To figure this out, the court had to determine which hierarchy — Russian or Antiochian — was recognized by the parish when it formed in 1910. The Antacky members “claim that they organized under and are subject to the supreme jurisdiction” of Antioch, “whose representative in America was Bishop Raphael of Brooklyn.” The Russy members “claim that this local church was organized under and has always been subject to the supreme jurisdiction” of the Russian Church.

The original parish documents are somewhat ambiguous. Article 2 of the original articles of association describes the purpose of incorporation as follows: “To teach and promulgate the Christian religion in accordance with the tenets and doctrines and creed of the Syrian Greek Orthodox Church of Antioch, Syria, and the Syrian Greek Orthodox Church of America, as expounded by the bishop thereof resident at Brooklyn, New York, U.S.A.”

According to the trial court judge, the articles were prepared by a local Grand Rapids attorney “after he had asked these men under what jurisdiction this contemplated church was claimed by them to be.” Similar language appears in the parish bylaws:

All persons believing in the divinity of Christ, in God the Father and the Holy Ghost, the sacrament of baptism and marriage in accordance with the articles of faith established by the Orthodox Greek Church of Damascus, Syria, shall be entitled to membership. Members are admitted by baptism and by confession of faith under the rules and tenets of the Orthodox Greek Church of Damascus, Syria. They may be suspended or expelled for violation of the teaching and precept of the church as laid down and expounded by the bishop of the Syrian Greek Orthodox Church of America, resident at Brooklyn, New York.

Now, to a casual reader, these documents seem to recognize Antioch. There’s not a word to be found about the Russian Church. But there are references to the Bishop of Brooklyn, and the Russy party used this fact to argue for Russian jurisdiction. According to the Russy group, all the Orthodox in America were under the Russian hierarchy. In fact, they expounded what is, as best I can tell, the earliest coherent example of the “flag-planting theory” for Russian jurisdiction. Here’s how the trial court explained it: “By virtue of having established in the Western Hemisphere a Russian church, and the territory wherein the church was established having been purchased by the United States, the Russian Church now claims the right to rule over and assumes jurisdiction over all Greek Orthodox churches within the United States, regardless of the nationality of the congregation or the membership of the local church.”

But the court wasn’t interested in the jurisdictional claims themselves. It’s not a dispute between Russia and Antioch, but between members of the local parish, for control over a piece of real estate. Because of this, the paramount question is the intention of the original incorporators. “If this were a lawsuit between the Patriarch of Antioch, on the one hand, and the Holy Russian Synod, on the other hand [...] it is possible that a different question might be raised.”

The case, then, boils down to St. Raphael himself. If he was under Antioch, as the Antacky claimed, then their side would win. If he was under Russia, the case for the Russy would be greatly strengthened. So the court looked at St. Raphael’s own writings: what did the man himself say about his jurisdictional position? The following quotations are from St. Raphael’s periodical Al Kalimat, and were translated for the court (brackets in original):

  • “That he [Raphael] was consecrated bishop by the order and permission of Melatois, the Patriarch of Antioch.” (vol. 1, page 2)
  • “Those who were consecrated bishops through his [Patriarch of Antioch] consent were his grace, Basileus Dibs, the Metropolite of Akkar, Syria, one of the Antiochian dioceses, and the owner of this magazine, the Bishop of Brooklyn, New York, U.S.A.” (vol. 2, page 95)
  • “Patriarch Melatois counted the new parish of Brooklyn, New York, as one of the parishes of Antioch.” (vol. 3, pages 95-96)
  • “And during his [Melatois'] administration [as patriarch] many unusual things many unusual things took place, such as the demise of several lamented archbishops. For this reason a conclave was had of archbishops, his beatitude presiding, during which conclave there were clected bishops for the seats vacated by such deaths. … Those who received the benediction of ordination into the high priesthood by the sanction of his beatitude are two, to wit, his eminence, Basileus Dibs, archbishop of Akkar, and the editor of this magazine (Bishop Raphael), Bishop of Brooklyn, North America.” (vol. 3, page 95)
  • “And the territorial jurisdiction of the See of Antioch became much more extensive during the time of his beatitude, for Syrians who emigrated to many other countries still retained their spiritual relations with and continued to acknowledge and yield allegiance to their mother church, the Holy Church of Antioch, and kept firm in the Orthodox faith. His beatitude manifested the most perfect evidence of his interest in and care for them to the best of his means and ability. In substantiation of this, when the Russian Holy Synod informed him that the lot of presiding in this diocese [the diocese of Brooklyn] had fallen upon our humble self [Raphael], his beatitude hastened to write to the Holy Synod, to His Eminence Tikon, then Archbishop, and to our humble self, sanctioning the choice and declaring that he [his beatitude] had instituted this new diocese as one of the dioceses pertaining to the See of Antioch and thus it is in actuality, notwithstanding its nominal allegiance to the Russian Holy Synod.” (vol. 3, page 95)
  • “Whereas, we, the Syrian Orthodox residents of Greater New York and all other parts of North America constituting our new diocese (may God keep it) are considered a vigorous branch of our mother tree, the Church of Antioch; and whereas, this branch has flourished luxuriantly during the days of the administration of our father, may his name be ever blessed, the thrice illustrious Patriarch Melatios; and whereas, his beatitude was the first to sanction and bless the establishment of this new Syrian diocese in this new world.” (vol. 2, page 18)

The trial judge observed that “at first the writings of Bishop Raphael gave to the Patriarch of Antioch jurisdiction over the Syrian branch of the Orthodox Church in the United States, and later gave expression to language indicating that all the branches, including the Syrian branch, of the Greek Orthodox Church in America, were under the jurisdiction of the Holy Synod of Russia.” Without a clear-cut answer from St. Raphael’s own writings, the judge looked at two non-Orthodox sources: Funk & Wagnalls’ Religious Encyclopedia and the Encyclopedia Britannica. The former reported that “the Patriarch of Antioch elevated Raphael to the rank of bishop” (but that Raphael was consecrated by Russian hierarchs), while the latter noted that the Russian archbishop in America “is assisted by two bishops, one for Alaska [...] and one for Orthodox Syrians, residing in Brooklyn.” The secular sources don’t seem to settle things, either.

Texts being insufficient, the judge moved on to consider actions. He observed that “the record shows but one instance where he [Raphael] was directed by any church authority.” That instance was in August 1910, when St. Raphael announced in Al Kalimat an order he had received from the Patriarch of Antioch regarding marriages of Syrian Orthodox in America. In addition, in 1901, St. Raphael wrote that he had received a telegram from the Patriarch informing him of his election as Metropolitan of Salefkias. St. Raphael declined, but the judge saw this as evidence of a relationship between Raphael and Antioch. Furthermore, according to the judge, “It is not shown in this case that during the life of Raphael the authorities of the Russian Church in any manner gave any orders to the Syrian branch of the church, or attempted in any way to direct the actions or utterances of Raphael in his relations with the Syrian Church.”

There are some flaws in this reasoning. Yes, we can establish that there was a close relationship between Raphael and Antioch, but there was also a close relationship between Raphael and the Russian hierarchy in America. It was St. Raphael who, as an archimandrite, welcomed St. Tikhon to America in 1898, and Tikhon and his auxiliary Bishop Innocent were the ones who actually consecrated Raphael in 1904. It was St. Raphael who blessed the land on which St. Tikhon’s Russian Orthodox Monastery was built, and there are countless examples of Raphael working with the Russian Archdiocese in America. The Russians themselves clearly understood Raphael to be one of theirs, and in his 1905 plan for Orthodoxy in America, St. Tikhon includes the Syrian bishop as a crucial part — while at the same time recognizing that Raphael was “almost independent in his own sphere.”

Both parties have a legitimate argument in this case, but as the judge consistently reiterated, this case is ultimately about the intent of the original incorporators of the Grand Rapids church — not about the relative claims of Russia and Antioch in America. Those claims are relevant only insofar as they help us better understand the incorporators’ intent.

In the end, the trial court sides ruled in favor of the Antacky group — that is, as best as the court could determine, the original parish incorporators intended to be under Antiochian jurisdiction. The court based its decision largely on the references to Antioch in the parish documents. Yes, those documents also refer to the bishop of Brooklyn, but the judge saw insufficient evidence to conclude that Raphael was under Russia rather than Antioch. The Michigan Supreme Court upheld the judgment (and, indeed, hardly added a word, mostly quoting directly from the district judge). The Michigan Supreme Court did note that, in light of the chaos that followed the Russian Revolution, “the precautions taken in organizing this Syrian church seem to have justified themselves.”

This is a terribly fascinating case from a historical perspective, and tells us a lot about how the early Antiochians in America thought about themselves. But what are the legal lessons we can learn? The district court judge — affirmed by the state supreme court — could not have employed “deference to higher church authorities” if he had wanted to, since the entire dispute was over which was the correct higher church authority. The judge was forced to employ something along the lines of a neutral principles analysis. Did he get the right answer? Well, it depends on the question. The judge was trying to figure out the intent of the original incorporators, and based on the language of the official documents, it does seem like they intended to be under Antioch. Were they really, in fact, under Antioch? What would the outcome be if the claim was between Antioch and Russia themselves, and actual jurisdiction had to be determined? That is a much, much more complicated question, to which there isn’t a single, clear-cut answer.

This article was written by Matthew Namee.

The Kodiak Bell, as it appeared in the May 13, 1923 issue of the Los Angeles Times

The Kodiak Bell in the LA Times, 1923

The Kodiak Bell, as it appeared in the May 13, 1923 issue of the Los Angeles Times

Editor’s note: The following article appeared in the Los Angeles Times on May 13, 1923, and was entitled, “Tolls Story of Old California.”

An old and battered bell, hanging in an orange grove where Ramona played in the days of her childhood, rang a new note in the song of California’s mission history yesterday.

After a silence of 127 years the ancient bell has spoken, and the tale it has told may alter certain chapters of the story of El Camino Real and prove facts of California’s history which in the past have existed only as theory. Further, it may refute one or two other phases of the King’s Highway chronicles which have always been accepted as a historical fact. It has been declared by several historians as one of the most important historical discoveries of a human interest nature ever made on the Pacific Coast.

Alice Harriman, noted campanologist and author, is accredited with uncovering the veiled past of the aged bell. Three years ago Mrs. Harriman first saw the bell as it swung in an orange grove at “Camulos,” where Ramona spent her girlhood days, and now the Del Valle ranch. Since then, she has devoted her time to tracing back the almost obliterated story of the bell. She announced yesterday the completion of her research work, in which she has been assisted by noted American and Russian authorities.

The bell is not of Spanish origin. Nor did it come to California from Mexico, Peru, Chili, Massachusetts or Russia — where almost all the famous bells of the world were cast. The Camulos bell was made on the island of Kodiak, Alaska, and presents the first glimpse into a phase of the earliest settlement of Russian America, now known as Alaska, which hitherto has been unknown to modern historians. The inscription on the Camulos bell, written in a forgotten language, betrays the secret. It reveals that it was cast at Kodiak in 1796 and that it was traded for food by Count Nicolai Resenov, one of the earliest settlers of Alaska, and that until sixty years ago it hung in the famed San Fernando Mission.

“I have found bells from Mexico, Spain, Peru, Chili, Belgium, Massachusetts, Sitka, and Russia,” said Mrs. Harriman yesterday, “but not until three years ago did I realize that I was to discover one of the most historical bells ever found.”

She told of a visit to Camulos when she first saw the bell in the orange grove. But the inscription was in Russian script. The Del Valle family knew little concerning the bell other than that it had been removed from the old San Fernando Mission to save it from vandals sixty-two years ago, and that ever since then it had been exposed to the ravages of the weather on Del Valle ranch.

A crude cross and a stenciled inscription “De Sn Ferno,” hammered on the bronze surface by the Franciscan fathers, proved it had once hung in San Fernando Mission.

Russian authorities could not translate the inscription around the lower rim. With the assistance of Dr. Herbert E. Bolton, noted historian, Mrs. Harriman learned that it was in the old Slavonic church language, now virtually extinct. She appealed to Rev. A.P. Kasheveroff, curator of the Alaskan Historical Society, and she learned portions of the inscription:

“Island of Kodiak — Alexander Baranoff — Month of January”

Two big gaps in the inscription could not be read from the photographs by Dr. Kasheveroff. She then sought the aid of Dr. Alexis Kall, of this city, a student of the forgotten language. The complete inscription read:

“1796 — In the Month of January, 1796, this bell was cast on the Island of Kodiak through the generosity of Arch-Mandrite Joasaph and elected church warden Alexander Baranoff”

Now, how did it get down into California, into an orange grove?” Mrs. Harriman asked. “Cast on a barely settled island with the wild, wide waters of the North Pacific pounding on the shores of the bay near where it was cast, by a Greek Orthodox arch-abbot for sponsor — how does it come that it was for years the bell for the Roman Catholic Franciscan Mission of San Fernando, in the lovely valley of the same name?

“The answer, almost certain and indorsed by historians and campanologists in California, Washington and Alaska, is that when Baranoff changed his headquarters from Kodiak to Sitka in 1805 he brough the bell with him.

“When Count Resenov visited Sitka and found the little settlement in such sore straights for food, he took the ‘Juno’ and came to California for food for starving Sitka. Knowing as the Russians did that the Spanish settlements of California had missions and that wherever there are missions bells are needed, Resenov brought this bell with other things that he thought he could exchange for the Southland’s grain and meat. When it was traded, the San Fernando inscription was stenciled on it.

“It may have been that the bell was brought by the Russians who hunted for otter on the Channel Islands; but bells are ungainly things to handle and it is doubted if there is any other explanation to be found than the one indorsed by those highest in authority on Pacific Coast history.

“The material in the bell also has an interesting history as research in Russian archives show. Baranoff wrote to Shelikoff, his superior in Russia and at whose instance the bell was first cast, that the copper he sent — meaning Shelikoff — had been received and that ‘that Englishman, Vancouver,’ had sent him some tin.

“Baranoff most fortunately, even wrote to Shelikoff revealing the name of the founder of this wonderful bell. It was Sapoknikoff.”

Mrs. Harriman stated that most of her positive information concerning the bell was found in Tekmeneft’s History.

St. Tikhon, Patriarch of Moscow, 1923

An interview with Patriarch Tikhon in 1923

St. Tikhon, Patriarch of Moscow, 1923

 

Editor’s note: The interview that follows originally appeared in a book published by the YMCA in Prague. I found it on the fascinating Alexander Palace Time Machine website (the original is here). Many thanks to Jenny Mosher, who posted a link to this interview on our SOCHA Facebook page. Bob Atchison, editor of the Alexander Palace Time Machine, graciously granted us permission to reprint the interview in full. 

After the decision to restore the Patriarchate, the most important act of the Sobor was the election of the man to fill that office. In the midst of the three days battle which resulted in the taking of Moscow by the Bolsheviks, the Sobor in orderly sittings earried out the routine it had defined for the election of a Patriarch. This was a minutely detailed procedure based upon the method first employed in 1634 for the election of Joasaf I and followed in the choice of aII subsequent Patriarchs. A secret ballot of all members was taken and the names of those receiving votes tabulated according to the number received. The choice of the Patriarch must be made from the highest three in the list. In this case they were Tikhon, Metropolitan of Moscow, Antonius, Archbishop of Kharkov, and Arsenius, Archbishop of Novgorod. On November 5th, after a solemn service in the Church of the Savior, the three names, carefully sealed in wax rolls of equal size and weight, were placed in an urn and the eldest of the recluse-monks present drew out one name. It proved to be that of Tikhon, whose election was forthwith proclaimed. On November 21st (1917) occurred the solemn consecration in the Cathedral of the Assumption, and a new epoch in Russian church history had begun. 

The man chosen to this high office was without question one of the most widely known and loved in all the Russian Church. He had been elected unanimously to the presidency of the Sobor. His appointment a few months earlier to the Metropolitanate of Moscow had simply indicated his prominence in Russian church affairs. The Patriarch is a native of Toropetz, a town near Pskov. His theological education was acquired in the Petrograd Academy, after which he served for three years as instructor in the Pskov Theological Seminary. In 1891 he took the monastic vow and after serving for six years as rector of the seminary in Kholm, he was consecrated Bishop of Lublin. One year later he was appointed Bishop of North America. In 1907 he returned to Russia as Bishop of Jaroslavl and in 1913 he became Bishop of Vilna, from which seat he was called four years later to the Metropolitanate of Moscow.

Patriarch Tikhon’s nine years in America were important ones in the affairs of the Orthodox Church there. During this period the episcopal seat was removed from San Francisco to New York. During this period Bishop Tikhon became Archbishiop Tikhon, the first American Orthodox hierarch to bear that title. These years made a deep impression upon the future Patriarch himself, and as will later be pointed out, the knowledge of the life and religious ideals of American people he acquired there have been very influential in later events in Russia. America has no better friend in Russia than Patriarch Tikhon and he seems especially pleased to maintain his connection with Americans and things American. In view of his unique position and significance for all the Orthodox Church, a brief sketch of the Patriarch as the author last saw him in November 1920, will possibly here be pertinent.

An erect, well-built man in a blaek robe: grey hair and beard which at first glance make him appear older than his fifty-six years: a firm handclasp and kindly eyes with a decided trace of humor and ever a hint of fire in the back of them: those are your first impressions. That, and his beaming smile. The next thing I thought of was how little he had changed in appearance in the two years since I last visited him. He does not look a day older, and his manner, in marked contrast to so many of my friends in Moscow, is just as calm, unhurried and fearless as though he had not passed through two years of terrible uncertainty and stress. He had put on the white silk cowl with its diamond cross and the six – winged angel embroidered above the brow which is the head-dress of the Patriarch on all official oceasions, but he had evidently just been sitting down to tea and the arrival of an old friend dispelled any formality. So in a minute the cope and gown had disappeared and we were sitting beside the samovar in his living room. First the Patriarch wanted to know all about the Church in America. The only recent news he had was a cablegram which had been over a year en route. Then I had to promise to convey his heartiest greetings and special blessing to a number of individuals and to “all American friends” in general. He was most anxious to know if the letter he addressed to President Wilson on Thanksgiving Day, 1918, had ever reached him. In it the Patriarch had expressed his Church’s participation in offering thanks for victory over the powers of evil, and congratulated President Wilson on his fine type of leadership. The letter then went on to speak of the seemingly severe terms imposed upon the enemy, and urged Christian forbearance and the alleviation of the conditions laid down, rather than the creation of a lasting hatred which could but breed more war. No reply was ever received, and the Patriarch was curious to know if it had ever reaehed the President. Later, I tried to get a copy of this letter, but found that all extant copies had been destroyed during a political raid in the home of the Patriarch’s secretary.

All those who know Patriarch Tikhon enjoy his well-developed sense of humor. I believe it is this whieh has helped him retain his poise and cheerfulness through the past three years. I asked him how he had been treated. He told me he had been under “home arrest” for more than a year, had been permitted to go out to conduct service in other churches about once in three months, but aside from this had suffered no personal violence; this in marked contmst to many of the Church’s dignitaries who had been sent to jail or even condemned to execution. “They think”, the Patriarch smilingly remarked, as he patted my hand confidentially, ’0, he’s an old chap: he’ll die soon….. we won’t bother him’. “Wait and see”, he went on, shaking his finger, schoolmaster-fashion – “I’ll show them, yet”. And the roguish twinkle in his eyes, remarkably young in contrast to his grey hair, gave you confidence that when the present nightmare has cleared in Russia, her Church’s leader will be found ready to take a most active part in the affairs of the new day.

But not a political part: we spoke of several churchmen who had dabbled in politics, and the Patriarch expressed his sorrow and disapproval; ‘What is right and just one may openly approve, and what is evil and unrighteous one must as openly condemn”, he said, “that is the Church’s business. But to meddle with the affairs of secular politics is neither the course of wisdom or of duty for a priest”. “What is the most urgent need of the Orthodox Church which the Christian world outside can supply?” I asked the Patriarch.

“Send us Bibles”, he replied. “Never before in history has there been such a hunger for Scripture in the Russian people. They clamor for the whole book – not only the Gospels but the Old Testament as well – and we have no Bibles to give them. Our slender stocks were exhausted long ago, and our presses have been confiscated, so that we cannot print more”. I assured him that Christians in other lands would doubtless find a way to supply this need.

It happened to be Thanksgiving Day at home, and the Patriarch remembered, and smilingly referred to its being known as “Turkey Day” in an American family he used to visit in New York. This brought on a discussion of American and Russian holidays and this in turn led to an interesting conversation “bout the present religious situation in Russia. At every step in this recital the Patriarch’s clear insight into men and events and his statesmanlike grasp of the affairs of the whole Church were clearly evident. I left him with a renewed conviction of his fitness for the high post he occupies.

Russian Christians believe the choice of the Patriarch was direeted by Divine Providence, and surely Patriarch Tikhon’s career thus far, offers basis for the belief. It would be difficult to imagine a man better fitted, mentally and temperamentally for the peculiarly difficult task of leading the Orthodox Church through these years of disorder and suffering in Russia. His good-humored friendliness, combined with a kindly firmness have become proverbial in the Russian Church. This is even more true of what Russians call his “accessibility”. It is common belief that anyone, be he bishop or priest or the most obseure layman, who has real need of his advice or decision, may get to see the Patriarch.

I recall a small incident which gives point to this statement. One day in 1918, late in the afternoon I called at the Patriarch’s house, by appointment, for in those troubled months the Patriarch was so busy and his presence so much in demand that we used to wonder when he found time for sleep. And as I passed through the hall I noticed a woman in a peasant’s dress, sobbing in a corner. In response to my question she poured out a long story of how some canonicaI difficulty in the marriage of her daughter could only be solved by, the personal decision of the Patriarch. “I’ve been here since early morning”, she said, wiping her eyes, “without eating or drinking, and now they say the Patriarch is home from the Sobor but he is too busy to see me”. The tall servant in the hall, who by the way was also in America with Patriarch Tikhon, told me in English that he felt the Patriareh was too busy with matters of national importance to be troubled with one woman’s private request. Knowing the Patriarch as I did, I ventured to tell him of the petitioner in the hall, and as I left he asked to see her. In some Russian village today there is a peasant family who think Russia’s Patriarch is the kindest man who ever lived.

But these glimpses of fatherly kindness in the leader of the Russian Church must not be allowed to give a one-sided impression. On account of his good nature a Russian writer has compared him to the first Patriarch of Russia, Job. In view of his proven statesmanship and his fearless insistence upon justice as well as the remarkable skill with which he has held the Church together when everything else in Russia was falling into ruin, it seems to me he more nearly resembles Hermogen, whose influence moved so powerfully in unifying and inspiring Russian spirit to throw off the Polish yoke. From the closing of the Sobor in September, 1918, the Patriarch continued its policy of protest against increasing encroachments of civil powers upon church property and church direction. With constantly increasing severity the government punished anyone who questioned or opposed its decrees, so that to make a public protest was something which might bring the gravest personal consequences. The policy of Red Terror had gone into effect. In the face of this, the Patriarch issued his classic Epistle to the “Soviet of People’s Commissars”: – “Whoso taketh a sword shall perish by the sword”, it begins. “The blood of our brothers shed in rivers at your order, cries to Heaven and compels us to speak the bitter words of truth. You have given the people a stone instead of bread, a serpent instead of a fish. You have exchanged Christian love for hatred: in the place of peace you have kindled the flames of class enmity”. A few lines later we read “Is this freedom, when no one may openly speak his mind without danger of being accused as a counterrevolutionary? Where is the freedom of word and press? Where is freedom of church preaching?” The epistle concludes with the formal excommunication of all those connected with the terroristic movements in the government. He is a stern man and a bold one, who can publish such sentences in the face of powerful enemies against whom he has not the slightest physical defence. The Head of the Russian Church has been absolutely fearless in condemning wrong and insisting upon justiee and right.

This boldness, tempered with a well-seasoned moderation, has enabled the Patriarch to maintain his position as leader and center of the whole church organization. With clear consistence he has refrained from interferenee with purely political affairs, save in so far as they touched upon matters of public morals or eommon justice. He is probably the only man of similar importance who was able to speak his mind so freely without punishment by imprisonment or worse, during four years of the Soviet government in Russia. His life during this time has been of the greatest importance to the Russian Church. In his person all Orthodox thinking has centered. His personality has kept alive the spirit of a Church unified in a time when every other institution had gone to pieces. His example has inspired new ideals of religion I and life in the hearts of millions of his people.

Chaotic as these years have been, they have witnessed at the same time a momentous deepening of religious feeling and spirit in Russia. Religion has become in the lives of most people something far more than ever before. What once was more or less formal theory has now been transmuted by the fires of the past four years into vivid reality, into lifeblood to strengthen men and women through boundless hardship. In the old days, one was often charmed by the peculiarly intimate and conscious sense of God shown by a peasant or a workman, something one finds much more rarely in western lands. Now, it is an experience to make one stop and think, to diseover in the lives of the “intelligentsia”, as well, exactly the same vivid certainty of God’s presenee and of the actuality of communion with Him. Is it something they have just learned, in these years of trial, or have they simply rediscovered the sense of God which has been latent all their lives? I think most Russians feel the latter is true, although most of the people I know frankly confess that never before has religion meant so much to them.

The Countess L. is an example of what I mean. As one knew her in the old days she was typical of her elass of the “intelligentsia” in her attitude toward the church and toward religion in general: a mild respect for the feeling of other people in matters religious but a very frank scepticism, at least on the surface, so far as her own interest in religion was concerned. That was three years ago. The reign of terror and the general suffering of these years have not passed her by, and she has undergone such experiences as at once horrify you and inspire you by the heroism exhibited. Today she is a striking personality, who impresses you primarily in a religious way. It is difficult to say what it is about Countess L. which so inspires you, whether it is her serene faith in the goodness of God and the power of prayer, her sincere charity toward those who have caused her so much ill, or the transparently beautiful character which has grown in the midst of so much sorrow. I only know that a talk with her makes one’s own faith seem so small and one’s own religion so puny, that you are driven to a resolve to deepen your own spiritual life, and make it count more than ever before for the service of others.

And although the common folk of Russia have learned much in the past four years, and although many attempts to teach them have had a decidedly anti-religious color, the total new culture has not altered that depth of religious feeling which has already been mentioned. I remember riding with a woman conductor on a freight-train, in 1920, who illustrated this point. She had been telling me of the different train-loads of troops, war prisoners and the like, it had been her fortune to help transfer. Then later we spoke of schools under the Soviet government and she expressed her chief criticism against the fact that no religious instruction was offered. “It’s a bad thing for folks who lose God,” she told me. “So many other people seem to have lost Him of late years. Thank Heaven we in Russia haven’t. Why just last week I had a trainload of Austrian communists and some of them tried to prove to me that there is not any God at all. ‘I don’t want to listen to your talk’, I told them, ‘you don’t act as though you had anything better than the old religion, and you need not talk to me against a God I know”’.

Even where common folk have been led to attempt casting off their faith together with everything else connected with the old life, the success of the assault upon religion has been only superficial. People could be harangued into a superficial acceptance of infidel doctrine, but when the matter actually came to the test, they discovered that the old faith still remained. I know no better illustration of this than an incident in Jaroslavl in Easter week, 1919. The radicals in charge of the town, apparently moved by the notable religious feeling among the populace, called a meeting to discuss religion. Among others, representatives of the clergy were invited. Some of the best communist orators of the district were brought in to present the case against rcligion. First a skillful speaker discussed the “Christ myth”. He explained that simple people had once been easily misled by priests into belief that Jesus was something more than a man, that He had worked miracles, had even risen from the dead. Now while Jesus deserved honor as the first Communist, He was simply a man, and an enlightened and revolutionary people should put “way all their old superstitions about Him. “Long live the Communist Internationale” – and he was fairly well applauded by the people. The second speaker was a Jewess who attacked the ancient stories about the birth of Jesus. When she closed with a statement that Mary was simply a woman of the streets, and nothing more, the applause was somehow less vigorous.

Now it came the turn of the senior priest of the town to present his case. He rose, made the sign of the cross, stood a moment silently facing the erowd and then pronounced the age-old Easter greeting: “Christ is risen.” Without a moment’s hesitation the crowd swayed toward him in reply: “He is risen indeed”. “Christ is risen”! the priest repeated, and the answer came almost before he had pronounced the words. A third time he said it, with” thunderous response from the people, then, waiting a moment, he asked simply, “What more is there to say? Let us go to our homes”, and the anti-religious meeting adjourned. It is this deep-seated sense of religion in the hearts of Russian folk of all classes which has come so mightily to the front in the past four years.

Concomitant with this rise in spiritual values, there has come notably broadened popular interest in any sort of religious instruction. Moscow, in the autumn of 1920, was placarded with posters, practically the only ones visible which were not put up by the government, announcing a series of meetings organized by the Russian Student Christian Movement, with Professor Martsenkoffsky as the chief speaker, all on purely religious themes. “The Way to New Life” and “The Coming Christ” were among other lecture topics. These meetings were held in one of the largest auditoriums in Moscow, and roused such popular interest that eventually the leaders were arrested, lest the movement turn against the government. To one returning to Russia after an absence of two years, it was astonishing to see many churehes open for service every day, with a sermon at each service. In former times, a sermon was a rarity. Most congregations did not care for them, and even those priests who would have been glad to preach were under such restraint from the government that they found it very difficult. A popular lecturer on religious subjects in Petrograd some years ago once remarked that frequently priests who came to his lectures told him how they envied the freedom with which he was allowed to speak of religion. Now the whole picture is changed, people demand sermons, and sermons of the most practical character. The few specimens which have gotten into Russia of such books as Fosdick’s with their very modern application of Christian teaching to everyday Jife, have been fairly worn out, passed from hand to hand by people eagerly seeking guidance in this new comprehension of religion. And priests have risen to meet this need, speaking truth in vigorous style, often at the risk of the gravest personal consequences. Sermons are no longer the pious, half-sentimental homilies such as one used to hear, and as are sometimes encountered today in old-fashioned churches in Europe or America, but open, direct instruction in the duty of Christian living. One of the most striking changes in the Russian Church in the past four years is that of clergy who practicalIy never prepared a sermon, now metamorphosed into a body of fearless preachers of the Gospel.

This same interest in religion is again exhibited in the universal demand for Scripture. I have mentioned the Patriarch’s opinion on the matter. The same situation persists everywhere. Two different women, one a lady formerly of high estate and the other a working girl, told me in Russia how they had been unable to buy a Bible. Red Army troops returning after eight months internment in Germany, begged relief agencies at the border for some bit of Scripture to take back into Russia with them. A talk with Father Hotovitsky brought out the same hunger for the Book, of which the Patriarch spoke. Three months later a British commercial agent, with no special interest in religious teaching, brought out another formal request from representatives of both the Orthodox Church and the Tolstoyan movement for assistance in procuring copies of the Bible for distribution. The fever of interest in Scripture which swept through peasant Germany at the dawn of the Reformation seems to have found a modern-day counterpart in Russia. Here however the Church, instead of attempting to suppress the spread of the Book, is the chief agency urging its use, and asking aid of foreign Bible Societies in producing the Scriptures which it eannot itself print since the confiscation of all its publishing plants. This hunger for Scripture is another indication of the new interest and meaning which religion has for all sorts of people in Russia since the Revolution.

It is also interesting to see how inevitably people connect their new-found religion with the old Church. To me this has been a new proof of the inherent vitality of Russian Orthodoxy, in this as in other times of crisis. The churches are crowded, and the worship in them is if anything more devout than before, but one senses a new spirit of comprehension, of the practicability of faith, if the term may be applied, which was not generally present four years ago. To be sure, there may be emotional or sentimental elements in this. One woman told me: “The church is the only place where one can get away from the terrible existence we must endure”. Another person, thinking along the same line, said: “O, Russia isn’t Russia any more; the only place you can feel at home is in church”. Be that as it may, the Church itself has made great advances in adapting itself to the newly apparent needs of its people, and religion as preached daily in its sanctuary has a new meaning for Russia. Take the purely external alterations, for example.

One of the differences from old times which immediately strikes a visitor in present-day Russia are the posters at the church door. Here is one announcing congregational singing-practice; another lists the services for the week, and you are surprised to note that there is a service with a sermon every day. Another gives notice of a special collection for a choir-director and a fourth, perhaps, appeals to all members to remain after this morning’s service and help put in place the mats which are used in winter to cover the cold pavement. In the congregation the men are surprisingly predominant, many of them wearing Red Army insignia. You notice that while people are constantly entering the chureh, as in the old days, there are practically none leaving it, a phase of church service which was always very disconcerting to a western visitor in a Russian church before the Revolution. Now people come and stay for the entire service, especially the sermon, an institution which in the last few months (autumn 1921) has become, except for government deliverance, the most liberal and fearless public utteranee to be heard. In general, the preachers confine themselves and their remarks pretty well within the limits set by the Patriarch in his quoted statement regarding the political activity of priests, but within these limits there has been the most vigorous, speaking of the “bitter truth”. The preaching priesthood has attained a new respect in the eyes of Orthodox people, through the power of the spoken word.

The anecdote I heard in Moscow about Father Hotovitsky, of the Church of the Savior is indicative of the sort of priests here mentioned. There is probably no more remarkable preacher in Russia than Father Hotovitsky. His sermons are very modern both in their theology and in their practical application. He was drawn into a discussion with Lunacharsky, Commissar of Education, on the omnipresence of God. “You say that God is everywhere”, Lunacharsky told him. “Now you will surely admit that one could imagine a small box somewhere without God’s being in the box”. “But why suppose an imaginary box”, Hotovitsky retorted, when we have you, Mr. Commissar?”

Easter, 1921, in Moscow was another indication of the present position of the Church. The Patriarch was released from his “home arrest” to officiate at the midnight service in the Church of the Savior. But even that great temple, accomodating ten thousand people, was utterly inadequate to serve the crowd which came. The whole of the grand square about the church was flooded with worshippers and several extra services were conducted simultaneously, in the open air, to meet the exigencies of the occasion. One very significant item about this service was the insistence of the people that it should occur at midnight by sun time, instead of by the daylight-saving chronometry of the Soviet government. So while the street clocks of Communist regime marked three-thirty a. m., the Orthodox people of Moscow celebrated” midnight service at midnight as the sun indicates time.

There is much more to be said of religious life in Russia today. These paragraphs have merely hinted at what will some day require volumes properly to outline and portray, but they will perhaps have indieated the remarkably deepened spirituality of these present times in Russia, with religion a more vital reality in the lives of all classes than ever before, with this new spiritual life manifesting itself in a keen interest in religious discussion and literature, with the old Church rising to meet the newly awakened needs of its people.

These needs present far more searching problems than merely those of organization or of church discipline. The new day in Russia demands new modes of thought, even new phases of religion. By its preaching the Church must endeavor to guide the thinking of its people as they grope their way in the dazzling light of a freedom they were as unprepared for as owls for sunshine. The Byzantine elements in religion, emphasizing the mystic in the teaching about Christ, and the less positive than negative attitude toward joyous activity, must gradually give part of their place to more modern ideas of the Christian conquest, the blessedness of Christian service, the reality of Jesus’ comradeship. This is not to say that the past as a whole is to be sloughed off like an outgrown shell. Such elements as the beautiful humility which has characterized Russian Christianity for so many centuries, or the mysticism in devotion which is one of its greatest charms, must not be permitted to fade from the picture. Rather, the idea of activity, of service for Christ who is living and loving men must be engrafted into the old stock, re. taining all the beauty and usefulness of the old, but providing a combination of religious thought better fitted to meet present-day needs. These ideas must be embodied in the homiletics of the new Russia.

Such preaching you may hear in Russian churches today sermons by Russian priests. A Westerner would never be able to produce the desired result: he would be too brusque, too positive, too little able actually to get within the Russian religious thought of the past generations. Among American Protestants there have been numerous volunteers to go and “Christianize” Russia – they may better remain at home and preach to folk whose temperament and background they ean comprehend. In Russia they would shout to unresponsive listeners. The Orthodox Church wishes every aid other Christian bodies can give it, but its preaching must be done by Russians if it is to appeal to the Russian mind.

With a rising culture in Russia, another age-old custom of Orthodoxy may come up for consideration. What will be the future of the holy pictures (ikons) of Russia? There are those who think ikons will gradually disappear from the service. If they do, it will be in the distant future. But even in these post-revolutionary years, events have often shaped themselves in a way to bring forcibly to mind the actual inconsequentiality of “holy” things and “holy” pictures. Popular feeling has revolted at cinematograph photos of the desceration of a shrine like that of Saint Sergius, but at the same time the half-unconscious impression has been made that the place or the relics are in themselves of small real worth to a Christian. The priceless treasures adorning some specially-revered ikon have been stolen and the century-old sanctity of the holy picture violated. And folk, half unknowingly, begin to take less interest in the ancient painting. It is somehow discovered to be not so efficacious as an aid to Christian living. Are these indications of the future? Perhaps, but with a custom as ancient as the usage of ikons in the Orthodox Church, alterations will be made but slowly. If the question may be called a problem at all, it is surely a secondary one. It is so unimportant in comparison with the new developments in religious thinking and comprehension that while the topic will interest future students of Russian life, it need not further occupy us here.

There are educational problems for the Church to face, as well as theological. How shall it provide a body of clergy with a training adequate to meet the demands of its membership, especially in times like the present when church schools of all sorts are quite eliminated from the government’s list of possibilities? This is one of the most immediate problems the Church has to solve. Up to now a general solution has not been discovered, the chief reliance at present being a return to the ancient custom of training young men in each church, a sort of apprentice-system for the priesthood. The ranks of the clergy have also been augmented by the ordination of many religiously minded laymen with suitable education. Although perhaps nothing better. is possible just now, both of these schemes have their serious deficiences, of course, and the Church’s leaders are keenly alive to the situation. The future will doubtless discover effective means to provide an adequately trained clergy. But the Churech’s efforts along educational lines are not to be limited to the training of priests. The Church has gone vigorously about the task of providing a substitute for its parish schools, and organizations of various sorts among the congregations have opened religious instruction for all the church membership. Bible-study groups and something like our American mid-week prayer meetings have appeared. Preaching missions to the villages have been encouraged. The Church has given its support to other than strictly ecclesiastical movements for the spread of religious instruction.

And not purely religious education alone, has received the support of’ the Church. As in former times, so now it is anxious to cooperate with every worthy ageney working for the general cultural uplift of Russia. The Patriarch’s open letter, prepared to accompany a rural-education expedition, is an example of the attitude of the Orthodox Church toward all sincere efforts for the well-being of Russia: 

“The Young Men’s Christian Association is undertaking the support of a series of movements having for their object the improvement of the moral atmosphere of Russian life, the preaching of God’s Word and, abstaining from politics, cooperation with Russian educational and economic improvement societies.

“With this object in view, an expedition is proposed with a special steamer on the Volga, stopping at different villages and landings. On this boat there are to be lectures on agriculture and other topics valuable for popular education, also short religious services with appropriate moral instruction by Orthodox priests.

“Sympathizing with everything whieh may be helpful, materially or morally, to our Russian people, we hereby confer our blessing upon the organizers of this good work, praying God’s aid for its successful accomplishment.

(Signed) Tikhon, Patriarch of Moscow and All Russia.”

The content of such an epistle evidences the remarkably modern position which this ancient Church has assumed in the face of the modern educational requirements of its people.

The widespread demand, already noted, for the Bible, indicates another line of development where the Orthodox Church has to blaze away. Although the Church has used and taught the Gospels and the New Testament generally, until Leroy-Beaulieu could write that “the Gospels are undoubtedly the book dearest to the Russian”, the Old Testament has been very little known, hence the Church faces just now an interest in Scripture study quite unprecedented in its history. And again the need evidenees itself for a transition from the old. mystic usage of Scripture to a vitalizing praetical study, relating with ever-growing distinctness the life-giving Book to life itself.

Realizing the need for expert direction in the religious life of his Church, one of Patriareh Tikhon’s first official acts was to call from New York Father Hotovitsky who for some years in America had been specializing on church organization, young people’s work and the like. As early as the autumn of 1918 parish organizations similar to the “Brotherhoods” in many American churches, had begun to make their appearance. They were followed by women’s organizations with the object of Bible study as well as assistance in church maintenance. Children’s, particularly boys’ groups. have been formed, until today in Russia thousands of congregations have one or more organized clubs of women, men or young people, existing for self-help in religious and moral edueation, and for helping others along the same lines. The preaching missions already mentioned, whieh from time to time have gone from city centers out into the villages, have been another evidence of the Church’s capacity to cope with this need for a more general edueation in practical religion.

Surely the history of the Church since the revolution offers a guarantee for its future place in the life of the Russian people. During times when all other phases of national life and organization were dissolved in a national disorder sueh as no other country of modern times has experienced, merely to have held itself together in unbroken unity would have been a performance worthy of the world’s notice. This the Church has done, but beyond that it has sueeeeded, in the faee of all the forces striving for its dissolution, in building for itself a new form of organization and government, with principles of democratic control such as it had never known before. In the Patriarchate. which as has been seen is not a restoration of the old autocracy or a centralization of authority in one person, the Church has found for itself a new center around which it has crystallized a firm unity.

In establishing the principle of coneiliar management, with democratic legislative bodies representing all classes of the people, men and women, clergy and lay, it has provided a form of government which harmonizes with the best progressive spirit of the Russian world. The Church has remodelled its administration to meet the new situation.

It has revised its services as well, so that now as never before the services in its sanctuaries are not merely for the people, but of the people. The new economic conditions have helped to bring each communicant into a position of participation in the affairs of his parish. The management of parish business by a committee chosen by the people has given them a new sense of responsibility for their Church. The introduction of congregational singing and the entirely new emphasis upon preaehing brings worship into a new phase of actual commonality. All the people are participants in the services, and these services are so ordered as to meet the marvellously new interest in practical religion whieh exists throughout Russia today.

These, changes the Church has made in itself in, order to minister to the new needs of the Russian people are simply what might have been expected in the light of its historic past. When Christianity first dawned in Russia, it was the Church which spread the light of learning and the acceptance of Christian morality throughout the land. When much of the old order was dissolved in the two hundred years Russia bowed beneath the Tatar yoke it was the Church again which offered a rallying point and actually inspired the effort which threw off the Asiatic tyranny. It was the Church under Hermogen, in the “Troublous Times”, which kept alive the spark of patriotism, for Russians always linked in an indissoluble way with the idea of Orthodoxy, and the glorious defence of the Sergievskaya Lavra marked a new turning point in Russian national affairs, with the Church in the leader’s role. In the light of the Chureh’s glorious past, when in every time of national crisis it has somehow maintained not only its own unity, but has been the center around which the spirit of the nation could rally, is it unduly optimistic to suggest that in our day we are witnessing another repetition of history! Surely the events of the past five years, with the Church as the only organization whieh still exists, standing like a temple miraculously preserved amid a city devastated by fire, offer ground for the belief that the Church in Russia will not belie its past performances. It is not only preserved amidst general ruin, but it has purged itself of the evils which a time of servitude had fastened upon it, remodelled its forms of government and worship, and ministers today to the needs of Russian people with a eompleteness it has never before known.

And if the history of the past offers bright hope for the future of the Orthodox Church, just as truly does the personality of the men who are guiding its affairs in the present. What has been said of the liberality and breadth of mind of the Patriarch, of his keen appreciation of the needs of Russian Christianity today and the measures the Church must take to meet them, is typical of the church leaders who form his immediate circle of advisers. It is no exaggeration to say that the most able and the most liberal men in the Orthodox Church are guiding its present efforts. Perhaps the fact is significant that many of them, like Patriarch Tikhon himself, have spent some years in America, where acquaintance has been gained with western religious ideals and practice. Father Hotovitsky using his knowledge of young people’s organizations in America to build up throughout the Russian Church similar groups, or Bishop Anatolii of Tomsk who even before the assembly of the Sobor began parochial organizations modelled after those he had known in America, are outstanding examples of the progressive leadership in the Orthodox Church today. Besides forming one of the strongest possible ties of friendship with America, these will by the very fact of their acquaintance with life in our country are bound to be of most valuable service in bringing the Russian Church up to the new and lofty standards she has set for herself. Their background of acquaintance with Western ideals of religion is likely to be of large influenee in the progress of the Church of Russia.

As these men go forward in the work of leading Russian Christianity out along lines of freer activity and more vital religion, they are looking to the Christians of other lands for support and assistance. It would be difficult to imagine an organization more truly desirous of learning from the best in others, of profiting by experience along the same paths it has laid out for itself, than is the Russian Church. It confidently expects that Christians of other nations will gladly offer whatever assistance is within their power. What contributions can members of other Christian confessions make toward the progress of Christianity in Russia?

To be of service to the Church of Russia, Christians of the West must first cultivate aequaintance with it. A study of its ideals and its history, a genuine effort to appreciate all that is valuable in its past and present – these must first lead us to a sincere recognition of the breadth and depth of Russian Christianity. Study its literature; if possible become familiar with its service. There are many Russian churches in America where one may begin this helpful acquaintance and any sincerely friendly approach will be met with equal friendliness.

Practical aid may be extended in the provision of books. The whole realm of our modern religious literature may be opened to Russia: educational courses for use in church schools and organized Bible-study groups will be eagerly utilized. Such books as homiletical aids, guild and society handbooks, would be most useful if translated and adapted to modern Russian conditions. The best religious thought of the modern West should be put at Russia’s disposal by translation and publication in Russian. In the interval until the Church is again in a position to publish the Bible and portions of it for itself, the other Christian communions will find it difficult to turn a deaf ear to the appeals of both the Church and the Russian people for copies of the Word of God. Cooperation should be encouraged along all lines of religious endeavor and all our own experience in religious organization and method should be open for the use of the Russian Church. They seek our aid, and we must not withhold it.

Any such assistance offered to Russia by Western Christianity will be welcomed with open arms, and if the suggestions here contained are borne in mind there will be no possibility for misunderstanding. Once a thorough appreeiation of the essential “Russianity” of the Orthodox Church is established, there will be no misguided efforts to help Russian Christianity through the propagation of other forms of church organization or sectarian propaganda. What Western Christianity gives to Russia must be given through the Orthodox Church and not in any sort of opposition to or competition with it. A church which regardless of the barriers of distance and language, has prayed daily for a thousand years for “the welfare of God’s ehurches and the union of them all” will welcome every sincerely friendly approach from other Christian bodies.

In all this talk of efforts toward the rapprochement of other Christian bodies to the Russian Church, and methods of extending aid in these trying years, one possibility overtops all the rest. We must cultivate acquaintance with the Orthodox Church and personal contact with its leaders. We must learn to appreciate the beauty and value in its worship and its teaching. We must realize that the Russian Church is essentially indigenous and adapt to that cardinal fact our efforts at effective assistance. We should put at its disposal the best of our modern religious thought in the form of books and periodicals. These are particularly vital for those Americans who go to Russia or who are directing the home churches. To all Christians at home, however, there remains the privilege of all Christians everywhere, that of intercession. It is doubtful if anywhere in the Christian world today there is a more vital belief in the value of prayer, than in Russia. When the Russian Church asks for our prayers, the request is more than an empty formality. Russia believes, she knows from experience, how the power of God may be invoked, and her people confidently expect the prayer support of Christians of other lands. In the midst of the terrible uncertainty of the summer of 1918, when no one dared plan anything more than a few days in advance, and even the Sobor carried on its orderly deliberations only in the face of unbelievable hindrances, the proclamation of President Wilson appointing “a day of humiliation, prayer and fasting” made a deep impression upon the leaders of the Russian Church. The feeling of the Patriarch is evident in his letter, written at that time, to his friend Dr. Mott, as one of the leaders among the Christian forces of America:

“It was with especial sympathy that we together with all believing Russians heard that the members of the churches of God in America. had been assembled by your President and ehurch leaders in the houses of God Memorial Day to fast and pray for peace among the nations at war. We also recall with deep gratitude the friendly feelings repeatedly expressed by your President toward Russia. 

“It would comfort us to know that the Christians of America will continue to remember our Russian Church and people in their prayers. We would feel deeply grateful if you could express to the Christian people in America our profound desire for their intercession, especially at this crisis in Russia. We are conscious in this dark hour that the moral support and prayers of all Christendom are vital for the rebuilding of Russia through Christ to her former strength”.

The head of Russia’s Church is here expressing the feeling of most of its leaders and millions of its people. Such a letter brings an almost irresistible appeal. As the old Church of Russia moves out into new fields of service for a people rising to the ideals of a modern world, may Christians of the West be not unmindful of this desire for their prayer-support. Joining in its age-old prayer for the welfare of all God’s churches, may we open our thought to every means of eooperation and assistance for the Church of Russia. The man chosen to this high office was without question one of the most widely known and loved in all the Russian Church. He had been elected unanimously to the presidency of the Sobor. His appointment a few months earlier to the Metropolitanate of Moscow had simply indicated his prominence in Russian church affairs. The Patriarch is a native of Toropetz, a town near Pskov. His theological education was acquired in the Petrograd Academy, after which he served for three years as instructor in the Pskov Theological Seminary. In 1891 he took the monastic vow and after serving for six years as rector of the seminary in Kholm, he was consecrated Bishop of Lublin. One year later he was appointed Bishop of North America. In 1907 he returned to Russia as Bishop of Jaroslavl and in 1913 he became Bishop of Vilna, from which seat he was called four years later to the Metropolitanate of Moscow.

Patriarch Tikhon’s nine years in America were important ones in the affairs of the Orthodox Church there. During this period the episcopal seat was removed from San Francisco to New York. During this period Bishop Tikhon became Archbishiop Tikhon, the first American Orthodox hierarch to bear that title. These years made a deep impression upon the future Patriarch himself, and as will later be pointed out, the knowledge of the life and religious ideals of American people he acquired there have been very influential in later events in Russia. America has no better friend in Russia than Patriarch Tikhon and he seems especially pleased to maintain his connection with Americans and things American. In view of his unique position and significance for all the Orthodox Church, a brief sketch of the Patriarch as the author last saw him in November 1920, will possibly here be pertinent.

An erect, well-built man in a blaek robe: grey hair and beard which at first glance make him appear older than his fifty-six years: a firm handclasp and kindly eyes with a decided trace of humor and ever a hint of fire in the back of them: those are your first impressions. That, and his beaming smile. The next thing I thought of was how little he had changed in appearance in the two years since I last visited him. He does not look a day older, and his manner, in marked contrast to so many of my friends in Moscow, is just as calm, unhurried and fearless as though he had not passed through two years of terrible uncertainty and stress. He had put on the white silk cowl with its diamond cross and the six – winged angel embroidered above the brow which is the head-dress of the Patriarch on all official oceasions, but he had evidently just been sitting down to tea and the arrival of an old friend dispelled any formality. So in a minute the cope and gown had disappeared and we were sitting beside the samovar in his living room. First the Patriarch wanted to know all about the Church in America. The only recent news he had was a cablegram which had been over a year en route. Then I had to promise to convey his heartiest greetings and special blessing to a number of individuals and to “all American friends” in general. He was most anxious to know if the letter he addressed to President Wilson on Thanksgiving Day, 1918, had ever reached him. In it the Patriarch had expressed his Church’s participation in offering thanks for victory over the powers of evil, and congratulated President Wilson on his fine type of leadership. The letter then went on to speak of the seemingly severe terms imposed upon the enemy, and urged Christian forbearance and the alleviation of the conditions laid down, rather than the creation of a lasting hatred which could but breed more war. No reply was ever received, and the Patriarch was curious to know if it had ever reaehed the President. Later, I tried to get a copy of this letter, but found that all extant copies had been destroyed during a political raid in the home of the Patriarch’s secretary.

All those who know Patriarch Tikhon enjoy his well-developed sense of humor. I believe it is this whieh has helped him retain his poise and cheerfulness through the past three years. I asked him how he had been treated. He told me he had been under “home arrest” for more than a year, had been permitted to go out to conduct service in other churches about once in three months, but aside from this had suffered no personal violence; this in marked contmst to many of the Church’s dignitaries who had been sent to jail or even condemned to execution. “They think”, the Patriarch smilingly remarked, as he patted my hand confidentially, ’0, he’s an old chap: he’ll die soon….. we won’t bother him’. “Wait and see”, he went on, shaking his finger, schoolmaster-fashion – “I’ll show them, yet”. And the roguish twinkle in his eyes, remarkably young in contrast to his grey hair, gave you confidence that when the present nightmare has cleared in Russia, her Church’s leader will be found ready to take a most active part in the affairs of the new day.

But not a political part: we spoke of several churchmen who had dabbled in politics, and the Patriarch expressed his sorrow and disapproval; ‘What is right and just one may openly approve, and what is evil and unrighteous one must as openly condemn”, he said, “that is the Church’s business. But to meddle with the affairs of secular politics is neither the course of wisdom or of duty for a priest”. “What is the most urgent need of the Orthodox Church which the Christian world outside can supply?” I asked the Patriarch.

“Send us Bibles”, he replied. “Never before in history has there been such a hunger for Scripture in the Russian people. They clamor for the whole book – not only the Gospels but the Old Testament as well – and we have no Bibles to give them. Our slender stocks were exhausted long ago, and our presses have been confiscated, so that we cannot print more”. I assured him that Christians in other lands would doubtless find a way to supply this need.

It happened to be Thanksgiving Day at home, and the Patriarch remembered, and smilingly referred to its being known as “Turkey Day” in an American family he used to visit in New York. This brought on a discussion of American and Russian holidays and this in turn led to an interesting conversation “bout the present religious situation in Russia. At every step in this recital the Patriarch’s clear insight into men and events and his statesmanlike grasp of the affairs of the whole Church were clearly evident. I left him with a renewed conviction of his fitness for the high post he occupies.

Russian Christians believe the choice of the Patriarch was direeted by Divine Providence, and surely Patriarch Tikhon’s career thus far, offers basis for the belief. It would be difficult to imagine a man better fitted, mentally and temperamentally for the peculiarly difficult task of leading the Orthodox Church through these years of disorder and suffering in Russia. His good-humored friendliness, combined with a kindly firmness have become proverbial in the Russian Church. This is even more true of what Russians call his “accessibility”. It is common belief that anyone, be he bishop or priest or the most obseure layman, who has real need of his advice or decision, may get to see the Patriarch.

I recall a small incident which gives point to this statement. One day in 1918, late in the afternoon I called at the Patriarch’s house, by appointment, for in those troubled months the Patriarch was so busy and his presence so much in demand that we used to wonder when he found time for sleep. And as I passed through the hall I noticed a woman in a peasant’s dress, sobbing in a corner. In response to my question she poured out a long story of how some canonicaI difficulty in the marriage of her daughter could only be solved by, the personal decision of the Patriarch. “I’ve been here since early morning”, she said, wiping her eyes, “without eating or drinking, and now they say the Patriarch is home from the Sobor but he is too busy to see me”. The tall servant in the hall, who by the way was also in America with Patriarch Tikhon, told me in English that he felt the Patriareh was too busy with matters of national importance to be troubled with one woman’s private request. Knowing the Patriarch as I did, I ventured to tell him of the petitioner in the hall, and as I left he asked to see her. In some Russian village today there is a peasant family who think Russia’s Patriarch is the kindest man who ever lived.

But these glimpses of fatherly kindness in the leader of the Russian Church must not be allowed to give a one-sided impression. On account of his good nature a Russian writer has compared him to the first Patriarch of Russia, Job. In view of his proven statesmanship and his fearless insistence upon justice as well as the remarkable skill with which he has held the Church together when everything else in Russia was falling into ruin, it seems to me he more nearly resembles Hermogen, whose influence moved so powerfully in unifying and inspiring Russian spirit to throw off the Polish yoke. From the closing of the Sobor in September, 1918, the Patriarch continued its policy of protest against increasing encroachments of civil powers upon church property and church direction. With constantly increasing severity the government punished anyone who questioned or opposed its decrees, so that to make a public protest was something which might bring the gravest personal consequences. The policy of Red Terror had gone into effect. In the face of this, the Patriarch issued his classic Epistle to the “Soviet of People’s Commissars”: – “Whoso taketh a sword shall perish by the sword”, it begins. “The blood of our brothers shed in rivers at your order, cries to Heaven and compels us to speak the bitter words of truth. You have given the people a stone instead of bread, a serpent instead of a fish. You have exchanged Christian love for hatred: in the place of peace you have kindled the flames of class enmity”. A few lines later we read “Is this freedom, when no one may openly speak his mind without danger of being accused as a counterrevolutionary? Where is the freedom of word and press? Where is freedom of church preaching?” The epistle concludes with the formal excommunication of all those connected with the terroristic movements in the government. He is a stern man and a bold one, who can publish such sentences in the face of powerful enemies against whom he has not the slightest physical defence. The Head of the Russian Church has been absolutely fearless in condemning wrong and insisting upon justiee and right.

This boldness, tempered with a well-seasoned moderation, has enabled the Patriarch to maintain his position as leader and center of the whole church organization. With clear consistence he has refrained from interferenee with purely political affairs, save in so far as they touched upon matters of public morals or eommon justice. He is probably the only man of similar importance who was able to speak his mind so freely without punishment by imprisonment or worse, during four years of the Soviet government in Russia. His life during this time has been of the greatest importance to the Russian Church. In his person all Orthodox thinking has centered. His personality has kept alive the spirit of a Church unified in a time when every other institution had gone to pieces. His example has inspired new ideals of religion I and life in the hearts of millions of his people.

Chaotic as these years have been, they have witnessed at the same time a momentous deepening of religious feeling and spirit in Russia. Religion has become in the lives of most people something far more than ever before. What once was more or less formal theory has now been transmuted by the fires of the past four years into vivid reality, into lifeblood to strengthen men and women through boundless hardship. In the old days, one was often charmed by the peculiarly intimate and conscious sense of God shown by a peasant or a workman, something one finds much more rarely in western lands. Now, it is an experience to make one stop and think, to diseover in the lives of the “intelligentsia”, as well, exactly the same vivid certainty of God’s presenee and of the actuality of communion with Him. Is it something they have just learned, in these years of trial, or have they simply rediscovered the sense of God which has been latent all their lives? I think most Russians feel the latter is true, although most of the people I know frankly confess that never before has religion meant so much to them.

The Countess L. is an example of what I mean. As one knew her in the old days she was typical of her elass of the “intelligentsia” in her attitude toward the church and toward religion in general: a mild respect for the feeling of other people in matters religious but a very frank scepticism, at least on the surface, so far as her own interest in religion was concerned. That was three years ago. The reign of terror and the general suffering of these years have not passed her by, and she has undergone such experiences as at once horrify you and inspire you by the heroism exhibited. Today she is a striking personality, who impresses you primarily in a religious way. It is difficult to say what it is about Countess L. which so inspires you, whether it is her serene faith in the goodness of God and the power of prayer, her sincere charity toward those who have caused her so much ill, or the transparently beautiful character which has grown in the midst of so much sorrow. I only know that a talk with her makes one’s own faith seem so small and one’s own religion so puny, that you are driven to a resolve to deepen your own spiritual life, and make it count more than ever before for the service of others.

And although the common folk of Russia have learned much in the past four years, and although many attempts to teach them have had a decidedly anti-religious color, the total new culture has not altered that depth of religious feeling which has already been mentioned. I remember riding with a woman conductor on a freight-train, in 1920, who illustrated this point. She had been telling me of the different train-loads of troops, war prisoners and the like, it had been her fortune to help transfer. Then later we spoke of schools under the Soviet government and she expressed her chief criticism against the fact that no religious instruction was offered. “It’s a bad thing for folks who lose God,” she told me. “So many other people seem to have lost Him of late years. Thank Heaven we in Russia haven’t. Why just last week I had a trainload of Austrian communists and some of them tried to prove to me that there is not any God at all. ‘I don’t want to listen to your talk’, I told them, ‘you don’t act as though you had anything better than the old religion, and you need not talk to me against a God I know”’.

Even where common folk have been led to attempt casting off their faith together with everything else connected with the old life, the success of the assault upon religion has been only superficial. People could be harangued into a superficial acceptance of infidel doctrine, but when the matter actually came to the test, they discovered that the old faith still remained. I know no better illustration of this than an incident in Jaroslavl in Easter week, 1919. The radicals in charge of the town, apparently moved by the notable religious feeling among the populace, called a meeting to discuss religion. Among others, representatives of the clergy were invited. Some of the best communist orators of the district were brought in to present the case against rcligion. First a skillful speaker discussed the “Christ myth”. He explained that simple people had once been easily misled by priests into belief that Jesus was something more than a man, that He had worked miracles, had even risen from the dead. Now while Jesus deserved honor as the first Communist, He was simply a man, and an enlightened and revolutionary people should put “way all their old superstitions about Him. “Long live the Communist Internationale” – and he was fairly well applauded by the people. The second speaker was a Jewess who attacked the ancient stories about the birth of Jesus. When she closed with a statement that Mary was simply a woman of the streets, and nothing more, the applause was somehow less vigorous.

Now it came the turn of the senior priest of the town to present his case. He rose, made the sign of the cross, stood a moment silently facing the erowd and then pronounced the age-old Easter greeting: “Christ is risen.” Without a moment’s hesitation the crowd swayed toward him in reply: “He is risen indeed”. “Christ is risen”! the priest repeated, and the answer came almost before he had pronounced the words. A third time he said it, with” thunderous response from the people, then, waiting a moment, he asked simply, “What more is there to say? Let us go to our homes”, and the anti-religious meeting adjourned. It is this deep-seated sense of religion in the hearts of Russian folk of all classes which has come so mightily to the front in the past four years.

Concomitant with this rise in spiritual values, there has come notably broadened popular interest in any sort of religious instruction. Moscow, in the autumn of 1920, was placarded with posters, practically the only ones visible which were not put up by the government, announcing a series of meetings organized by the Russian Student Christian Movement, with Professor Martsenkoffsky as the chief speaker, all on purely religious themes. “The Way to New Life” and “The Coming Christ” were among other lecture topics. These meetings were held in one of the largest auditoriums in Moscow, and roused such popular interest that eventually the leaders were arrested, lest the movement turn against the government. To one returning to Russia after an absence of two years, it was astonishing to see many churehes open for service every day, with a sermon at each service. In former times, a sermon was a rarity. Most congregations did not care for them, and even those priests who would have been glad to preach were under such restraint from the government that they found it very difficult. A popular lecturer on religious subjects in Petrograd some years ago once remarked that frequently priests who came to his lectures told him how they envied the freedom with which he was allowed to speak of religion. Now the whole picture is changed, people demand sermons, and sermons of the most practical character. The few specimens which have gotten into Russia of such books as Fosdick’s with their very modern application of Christian teaching to everyday Jife, have been fairly worn out, passed from hand to hand by people eagerly seeking guidance in this new comprehension of religion. And priests have risen to meet this need, speaking truth in vigorous style, often at the risk of the gravest personal consequences. Sermons are no longer the pious, half-sentimental homilies such as one used to hear, and as are sometimes encountered today in old-fashioned churches in Europe or America, but open, direct instruction in the duty of Christian living. One of the most striking changes in the Russian Church in the past four years is that of clergy who practicalIy never prepared a sermon, now metamorphosed into a body of fearless preachers of the Gospel.

This same interest in religion is again exhibited in the universal demand for Scripture. I have mentioned the Patriarch’s opinion on the matter. The same situation persists everywhere. Two different women, one a lady formerly of high estate and the other a working girl, told me in Russia how they had been unable to buy a Bible. Red Army troops returning after eight months internment in Germany, begged relief agencies at the border for some bit of Scripture to take back into Russia with them. A talk with Father Hotovitsky brought out the same hunger for the Book, of which the Patriarch spoke. Three months later a British commercial agent, with no special interest in religious teaching, brought out another formal request from representatives of both the Orthodox Church and the Tolstoyan movement for assistance in procuring copies of the Bible for distribution. The fever of interest in Scripture which swept through peasant Germany at the dawn of the Reformation seems to have found a modern-day counterpart in Russia. Here however the Church, instead of attempting to suppress the spread of the Book, is the chief agency urging its use, and asking aid of foreign Bible Societies in producing the Scriptures which it eannot itself print since the confiscation of all its publishing plants. This hunger for Scripture is another indication of the new interest and meaning which religion has for all sorts of people in Russia since the Revolution.

It is also interesting to see how inevitably people connect their new-found religion with the old Church. To me this has been a new proof of the inherent vitality of Russian Orthodoxy, in this as in other times of crisis. The churches are crowded, and the worship in them is if anything more devout than before, but one senses a new spirit of comprehension, of the practicability of faith, if the term may be applied, which was not generally present four years ago. To be sure, there may be emotional or sentimental elements in this. One woman told me: “The church is the only place where one can get away from the terrible existence we must endure”. Another person, thinking along the same line, said: “O, Russia isn’t Russia any more; the only place you can feel at home is in church”. Be that as it may, the Church itself has made great advances in adapting itself to the newly apparent needs of its people, and religion as preached daily in its sanctuary has a new meaning for Russia. Take the purely external alterations, for example.

One of the differences from old times which immediately strikes a visitor in present-day Russia are the posters at the church door. Here is one announcing congregational singing-practice; another lists the services for the week, and you are surprised to note that there is a service with a sermon every day. Another gives notice of a special collection for a choir-director and a fourth, perhaps, appeals to all members to remain after this morning’s service and help put in place the mats which are used in winter to cover the cold pavement. In the congregation the men are surprisingly predominant, many of them wearing Red Army insignia. You notice that while people are constantly entering the chureh, as in the old days, there are practically none leaving it, a phase of church service which was always very disconcerting to a western visitor in a Russian church before the Revolution. Now people come and stay for the entire service, especially the sermon, an institution which in the last few months (autumn 1921) has become, except for government deliverance, the most liberal and fearless public utteranee to be heard. In general, the preachers confine themselves and their remarks pretty well within the limits set by the Patriarch in his quoted statement regarding the political activity of priests, but within these limits there has been the most vigorous, speaking of the “bitter truth”. The preaching priesthood has attained a new respect in the eyes of Orthodox people, through the power of the spoken word.

The anecdote I heard in Moscow about Father Hotovitsky, of the Church of the Savior is indicative of the sort of priests here mentioned. There is probably no more remarkable preacher in Russia than Father Hotovitsky. His sermons are very modern both in their theology and in their practical application. He was drawn into a discussion with Lunacharsky, Commissar of Education, on the omnipresence of God. “You say that God is everywhere”, Lunacharsky told him. “Now you will surely admit that one could imagine a small box somewhere without God’s being in the box”. “But why suppose an imaginary box”, Hotovitsky retorted, when we have you, Mr. Commissar?”

Easter, 1921, in Moscow was another indication of the present position of the Church. The Patriarch was released from his “home arrest” to officiate at the midnight service in the Church of the Savior. But even that great temple, accomodating ten thousand people, was utterly inadequate to serve the crowd which came. The whole of the grand square about the church was flooded with worshippers and several extra services were conducted simultaneously, in the open air, to meet the exigencies of the occasion. One very significant item about this service was the insistence of the people that it should occur at midnight by sun time, instead of by the daylight-saving chronometry of the Soviet government. So while the street clocks of Communist regime marked three-thirty a. m., the Orthodox people of Moscow celebrated” midnight service at midnight as the sun indicates time.

There is much more to be said of religious life in Russia today. These paragraphs have merely hinted at what will some day require volumes properly to outline and portray, but they will perhaps have indieated the remarkably deepened spirituality of these present times in Russia, with religion a more vital reality in the lives of all classes than ever before, with this new spiritual life manifesting itself in a keen interest in religious discussion and literature, with the old Church rising to meet the newly awakened needs of its people.

These needs present far more searching problems than merely those of organization or of church discipline. The new day in Russia demands new modes of thought, even new phases of religion. By its preaching the Church must endeavor to guide the thinking of its people as they grope their way in the dazzling light of a freedom they were as unprepared for as owls for sunshine. The Byzantine elements in religion, emphasizing the mystic in the teaching about Christ, and the less positive than negative attitude toward joyous activity, must gradually give part of their place to more modern ideas of the Christian conquest, the blessedness of Christian service, the reality of Jesus’ comradeship. This is not to say that the past as a whole is to be sloughed off like an outgrown shell. Such elements as the beautiful humility which has characterized Russian Christianity for so many centuries, or the mysticism in devotion which is one of its greatest charms, must not be permitted to fade from the picture. Rather, the idea of activity, of service for Christ who is living and loving men must be engrafted into the old stock, re. taining all the beauty and usefulness of the old, but providing a combination of religious thought better fitted to meet present-day needs. These ideas must be embodied in the homiletics of the new Russia.

Such preaching you may hear in Russian churches today sermons by Russian priests. A Westerner would never be able to produce the desired result: he would be too brusque, too positive, too little able actually to get within the Russian religious thought of the past generations. Among American Protestants there have been numerous volunteers to go and “Christianize” Russia – they may better remain at home and preach to folk whose temperament and background they ean comprehend. In Russia they would shout to unresponsive listeners. The Orthodox Church wishes every aid other Christian bodies can give it, but its preaching must be done by Russians if it is to appeal to the Russian mind.

With a rising culture in Russia, another age-old custom of Orthodoxy may come up for consideration. What will be the future of the holy pictures (ikons) of Russia? There are those who think ikons will gradually disappear from the service. If they do, it will be in the distant future. But even in these post-revolutionary years, events have often shaped themselves in a way to bring forcibly to mind the actual inconsequentiality of “holy” things and “holy” pictures. Popular feeling has revolted at cinematograph photos of the desceration of a shrine like that of Saint Sergius, but at the same time the half-unconscious impression has been made that the place or the relics are in themselves of small real worth to a Christian. The priceless treasures adorning some specially-revered ikon have been stolen and the century-old sanctity of the holy picture violated. And folk, half unknowingly, begin to take less interest in the ancient painting. It is somehow discovered to be not so efficacious as an aid to Christian living. Are these indications of the future? Perhaps, but with a custom as ancient as the usage of ikons in the Orthodox Church, alterations will be made but slowly. If the question may be called a problem at all, it is surely a secondary one. It is so unimportant in comparison with the new developments in religious thinking and comprehension that while the topic will interest future students of Russian life, it need not further occupy us here.

There are educational problems for the Church to face, as well as theological. How shall it provide a body of clergy with a training adequate to meet the demands of its membership, especially in times like the present when church schools of all sorts are quite eliminated from the government’s list of possibilities? This is one of the most immediate problems the Church has to solve. Up to now a general solution has not been discovered, the chief reliance at present being a return to the ancient custom of training young men in each church, a sort of apprentice-system for the priesthood. The ranks of the clergy have also been augmented by the ordination of many religiously minded laymen with suitable education. Although perhaps nothing better. is possible just now, both of these schemes have their serious deficiences, of course, and the Church’s leaders are keenly alive to the situation. The future will doubtless discover effective means to provide an adequately trained clergy. But the Churech’s efforts along educational lines are not to be limited to the training of priests. The Church has gone vigorously about the task of providing a substitute for its parish schools, and organizations of various sorts among the congregations have opened religious instruction for all the church membership. Bible-study groups and something like our American mid-week prayer meetings have appeared. Preaching missions to the villages have been encouraged. The Church has given its support to other than strictly ecclesiastical movements for the spread of religious instruction.

And not purely religious education alone, has received the support of’ the Church. As in former times, so now it is anxious to cooperate with every worthy ageney working for the general cultural uplift of Russia. The Patriarch’s open letter, prepared to accompany a rural-education expedition, is an example of the attitude of the Orthodox Church toward all sincere efforts for the well-being of Russia: 

“The Young Men’s Christian Association is undertaking the support of a series of movements having for their object the improvement of the moral atmosphere of Russian life, the preaching of God’s Word and, abstaining from politics, cooperation with Russian educational and economic improvement societies.

“With this object in view, an expedition is proposed with a special steamer on the Volga, stopping at different villages and landings. On this boat there are to be lectures on agriculture and other topics valuable for popular education, also short religious services with appropriate moral instruction by Orthodox priests.

“Sympathizing with everything whieh may be helpful, materially or morally, to our Russian people, we hereby confer our blessing upon the organizers of this good work, praying God’s aid for its successful accomplishment.

(Signed) Tikhon, Patriarch of Moscow and All Russia.”

The content of such an epistle evidences the remarkably modern position which this ancient Church has assumed in the face of the modern educational requirements of its people.

The widespread demand, already noted, for the Bible, indicates another line of development where the Orthodox Church has to blaze away. Although the Church has used and taught the Gospels and the New Testament generally, until Leroy-Beaulieu could write that “the Gospels are undoubtedly the book dearest to the Russian”, the Old Testament has been very little known, hence the Church faces just now an interest in Scripture study quite unprecedented in its history. And again the need evidenees itself for a transition from the old. mystic usage of Scripture to a vitalizing praetical study, relating with ever-growing distinctness the life-giving Book to life itself.

Realizing the need for expert direction in the religious life of his Church, one of Patriareh Tikhon’s first official acts was to call from New York Father Hotovitsky who for some years in America had been specializing on church organization, young people’s work and the like. As early as the autumn of 1918 parish organizations similar to the “Brotherhoods” in many American churches, had begun to make their appearance. They were followed by women’s organizations with the object of Bible study as well as assistance in church maintenance. Children’s, particularly boys’ groups. have been formed, until today in Russia thousands of congregations have one or more organized clubs of women, men or young people, existing for self-help in religious and moral edueation, and for helping others along the same lines. The preaching missions already mentioned, whieh from time to time have gone from city centers out into the villages, have been another evidence of the Church’s capacity to cope with this need for a more general edueation in practical religion.

Surely the history of the Church since the revolution offers a guarantee for its future place in the life of the Russian people. During times when all other phases of national life and organization were dissolved in a national disorder sueh as no other country of modern times has experienced, merely to have held itself together in unbroken unity would have been a performance worthy of the world’s notice. This the Church has done, but beyond that it has sueeeeded, in the faee of all the forces striving for its dissolution, in building for itself a new form of organization and government, with principles of democratic control such as it had never known before. In the Patriarchate. which as has been seen is not a restoration of the old autocracy or a centralization of authority in one person, the Church has found for itself a new center around which it has crystallized a firm unity.

In establishing the principle of coneiliar management, with democratic legislative bodies representing all classes of the people, men and women, clergy and lay, it has provided a form of government which harmonizes with the best progressive spirit of the Russian world. The Church has remodelled its administration to meet the new situation.

It has revised its services as well, so that now as never before the services in its sanctuaries are not merely for the people, but of the people. The new economic conditions have helped to bring each communicant into a position of participation in the affairs of his parish. The management of parish business by a committee chosen by the people has given them a new sense of responsibility for their Church. The introduction of congregational singing and the entirely new emphasis upon preaehing brings worship into a new phase of actual commonality. All the people are participants in the services, and these services are so ordered as to meet the marvellously new interest in practical religion whieh exists throughout Russia today.

These, changes the Church has made in itself in, order to minister to the new needs of the Russian people are simply what might have been expected in the light of its historic past. When Christianity first dawned in Russia, it was the Church which spread the light of learning and the acceptance of Christian morality throughout the land. When much of the old order was dissolved in the two hundred years Russia bowed beneath the Tatar yoke it was the Church again which offered a rallying point and actually inspired the effort which threw off the Asiatic tyranny. It was the Church under Hermogen, in the “Troublous Times”, which kept alive the spark of patriotism, for Russians always linked in an indissoluble way with the idea of Orthodoxy, and the glorious defence of the Sergievskaya Lavra marked a new turning point in Russian national affairs, with the Church in the leader’s role. In the light of the Chureh’s glorious past, when in every time of national crisis it has somehow maintained not only its own unity, but has been the center around which the spirit of the nation could rally, is it unduly optimistic to suggest that in our day we are witnessing another repetition of history! Surely the events of the past five years, with the Church as the only organization whieh still exists, standing like a temple miraculously preserved amid a city devastated by fire, offer ground for the belief that the Church in Russia will not belie its past performances. It is not only preserved amidst general ruin, but it has purged itself of the evils which a time of servitude had fastened upon it, remodelled its forms of government and worship, and ministers today to the needs of Russian people with a eompleteness it has never before known.

And if the history of the past offers bright hope for the future of the Orthodox Church, just as truly does the personality of the men who are guiding its affairs in the present. What has been said of the liberality and breadth of mind of the Patriarch, of his keen appreciation of the needs of Russian Christianity today and the measures the Church must take to meet them, is typical of the church leaders who form his immediate circle of advisers. It is no exaggeration to say that the most able and the most liberal men in the Orthodox Church are guiding its present efforts. Perhaps the fact is significant that many of them, like Patriarch Tikhon himself, have spent some years in America, where acquaintance has been gained with western religious ideals and practice. Father Hotovitsky using his knowledge of young people’s organizations in America to build up throughout the Russian Church similar groups, or Bishop Anatolii of Tomsk who even before the assembly of the Sobor began parochial organizations modelled after those he had known in America, are outstanding examples of the progressive leadership in the Orthodox Church today. Besides forming one of the strongest possible ties of friendship with America, these will by the very fact of their acquaintance with life in our country are bound to be of most valuable service in bringing the Russian Church up to the new and lofty standards she has set for herself. Their background of acquaintance with Western ideals of religion is likely to be of large influenee in the progress of the Church of Russia.

As these men go forward in the work of leading Russian Christianity out along lines of freer activity and more vital religion, they are looking to the Christians of other lands for support and assistance. It would be difficult to imagine an organization more truly desirous of learning from the best in others, of profiting by experience along the same paths it has laid out for itself, than is the Russian Church. It confidently expects that Christians of other nations will gladly offer whatever assistance is within their power. What contributions can members of other Christian confessions make toward the progress of Christianity in Russia?

To be of service to the Church of Russia, Christians of the West must first cultivate aequaintance with it. A study of its ideals and its history, a genuine effort to appreciate all that is valuable in its past and present – these must first lead us to a sincere recognition of the breadth and depth of Russian Christianity. Study its literature; if possible become familiar with its service. There are many Russian churches in America where one may begin this helpful acquaintance and any sincerely friendly approach will be met with equal friendliness.

Practical aid may be extended in the provision of books. The whole realm of our modern religious literature may be opened to Russia: educational courses for use in church schools and organized Bible-study groups will be eagerly utilized. Such books as homiletical aids, guild and society handbooks, would be most useful if translated and adapted to modern Russian conditions. The best religious thought of the modern West should be put at Russia’s disposal by translation and publication in Russian. In the interval until the Church is again in a position to publish the Bible and portions of it for itself, the other Christian communions will find it difficult to turn a deaf ear to the appeals of both the Church and the Russian people for copies of the Word of God. Cooperation should be encouraged along all lines of religious endeavor and all our own experience in religious organization and method should be open for the use of the Russian Church. They seek our aid, and we must not withhold it.

Any such assistance offered to Russia by Western Christianity will be welcomed with open arms, and if the suggestions here contained are borne in mind there will be no possibility for misunderstanding. Once a thorough appreeiation of the essential “Russianity” of the Orthodox Church is established, there will be no misguided efforts to help Russian Christianity through the propagation of other forms of church organization or sectarian propaganda. What Western Christianity gives to Russia must be given through the Orthodox Church and not in any sort of opposition to or competition with it. A church which regardless of the barriers of distance and language, has prayed daily for a thousand years for “the welfare of God’s ehurches and the union of them all” will welcome every sincerely friendly approach from other Christian bodies.

In all this talk of efforts toward the rapprochement of other Christian bodies to the Russian Church, and methods of extending aid in these trying years, one possibility overtops all the rest. We must cultivate acquaintance with the Orthodox Church and personal contact with its leaders. We must learn to appreciate the beauty and value in its worship and its teaching. We must realize that the Russian Church is essentially indigenous and adapt to that cardinal fact our efforts at effective assistance. We should put at its disposal the best of our modern religious thought in the form of books and periodicals. These are particularly vital for those Americans who go to Russia or who are directing the home churches. To all Christians at home, however, there remains the privilege of all Christians everywhere, that of intercession. It is doubtful if anywhere in the Christian world today there is a more vital belief in the value of prayer, than in Russia. When the Russian Church asks for our prayers, the request is more than an empty formality. Russia believes, she knows from experience, how the power of God may be invoked, and her people confidently expect the prayer support of Christians of other lands. In the midst of the terrible uncertainty of the summer of 1918, when no one dared plan anything more than a few days in advance, and even the Sobor carried on its orderly deliberations only in the face of unbelievable hindrances, the proclamation of President Wilson appointing “a day of humiliation, prayer and fasting” made a deep impression upon the leaders of the Russian Church. The feeling of the Patriarch is evident in his letter, written at that time, to his friend Dr. Mott, as one of the leaders among the Christian forces of America:
 

“It was with especial sympathy that we together with all believing Russians heard that the members of the churches of God in America. had been assembled by your President and ehurch leaders in the houses of God Memorial Day to fast and pray for peace among the nations at war. We also recall with deep gratitude the friendly feelings repeatedly expressed by your President toward Russia. 

“It would comfort us to know that the Christians of America will continue to remember our Russian Church and people in their prayers. We would feel deeply grateful if you could express to the Christian people in America our profound desire for their intercession, especially at this crisis in Russia. We are conscious in this dark hour that the moral support and prayers of all Christendom are vital for the rebuilding of Russia through Christ to her former strength”.
 

The head of Russia’s Church is here expressing the feeling of most of its leaders and millions of its people. Such a letter brings an almost irresistible appeal. As the old Church of Russia moves out into new fields of service for a people rising to the ideals of a modern world, may Christians of the West be not unmindful of this desire for their prayer-support. Joining in its age-old prayer for the welfare of all God’s churches, may we open our thought to every means of eooperation and assistance for the Church of Russia.

Organs in Greek Orthodox churches

As regular readers of this website know, I am particularly interested in the “Americanization” of Orthodoxy in the New World — things like clergy appearance (beards vs. shaved faces, cassocks vs. collars), pews, church music (organs and mixed choirs), early converts, the use of English, and so forth. Today, I’m going to talk about organ music.

A disclaimer, up front: I am not an historian of church music. In fact, I’m not particularly musical at all — I don’t sing in the church choir, don’t play an instrument, and can’t even read musical notation. However, I’ve become reasonably adept at picking up a phone and asking questions, and by now, I’ve accumulated enough information to have a general sense of when organs became popular in Greek churches in America. Like so much of what I write, this article is merely an introduction to a topic, rather than the last word. Hopefully, five years from now, we’ll know a lot more than we do today about the history of Orthodox music in America.

There seem to be two general theories about how organs became popular in Greek-American churches. These theories aren’t mutually exclusive, and taken together, they sound pretty darned convincing. The first theory is similar to the pew theory — that early Greek communities bought existing Protestant or Roman Catholic church buildings, inherited the previous church’s organ, and adopted it for use in the Orthodox church. Of course, it has the same problem that the pew theory has — namely, that most early Greek churches were actually built by the Orthodox community, rather than purchased. Also, the chronology doesn’t fit: as we’ll see, organs were typically added to existing Orthodox churches, rather than introduced when a building was acquired.

The other theory is that Archbishop Athenagoras Spyrou, who took over the Greek Archdiocese in 1931, was a big fan of organs and encouraged their use in America. In his 1976 book From Mars Hill to Manhattan, Fr. (later Bishop) George Papaioannou wrote about Abp Athenagoras and organ music:

Athenagoras was a lover of music. His ministry to the people of Corfu, who had and still retain the reputation of being the most musically inclined in Greece, encouraged him to introduce a revolutionary idea into the Orthodox worship. That was the use of the organ. His people enthusiastically endorsed the idea, but the Church hierarchy condemned it as a terrible unorthodox innovation. From the official publication, St. Spyridon, 1928, we are informed that a case was brought against him in court by members of the Holy Synod for having introduced into the church a musical instrument that was foreign to Orthodox tradition. Athenagoras refused to yield to the Synod’s pressure, claiming that a similar musical instrument had first been used by the Byzantines in the Church of St. Sophia. A renowned church historian and liturgical scholar, Fr. Constantine Callinikos, came to Athenagoras’ defense, advising him not to give in and continue his praiseworthy policy of upgrading the Orthodox worship. Athenagoras ignored the demands of his fellow hierarchs and apparently the case was dropped because the organ continued to be used in the services at the Cathedral of St. Spyridon. Today, St. Spyridon’s in Corfu remains the only church in Greece to include the organ in its services.

Be all that as it may, Abp Athenagoras did not introduce organs into Greek-American churches. Oh, he certainly contributed to the spread of organs, but well before his arrival in 1931, Greek churches in the United States had begun to adopt the instrument.

An example of the melodeon, the type of organ used by Holy Trinity Greek Church in New Orleans as early as 1895

The first organ ever used in American Orthodoxy was actually in the very first Orthodox church in the contiguous US — Holy Trinity in New Orleans. I was rather shocked to learn that the New Orleans parish introduced an organ way back in the 19th century. This is from Elizabeth Cumings, “Where it is Summer in February,” in the journal Music, April 1895: “In the tiny Greek church far down the Esplanade is an American melodeon with a fine American squawk of its own.”

Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about the melodeon:

A melodeon (also known as a cabinet organ or American organ) is a type of 19th century reed organ with a foot-operated vacuum bellows, and a piano keyboard. It differs from the related harmonium, which uses a pressure bellows. Melodeons were manufactured in the United states from 1846 until the Civil War era. While it was sometimes used as a substitute for the pipe organ in small churches, it was primarily used in domestic settings.

It seems like the New Orleans parish introduced this organ sometime between 1885 and 1895. I’ve seen a few descriptions of church services there from the mid-1880s, and they seem to suggest (but don’t say outright) that the music was acappella chanting.

I don’t know why the New Orleans parish added an organ. It’s just a theory, but perhaps it had something to do with the priest, Fr. Misael Karydis. We know that he was obsessed with building a flying machine, and if he fancied himself an inventor and tinkerer, he may have been intrigued by the innerworkings of an organ. I’m not sure whether the New Orleans church kept using the organ after Karydis died in 1901, but if they did, they would have been an anomaly. Excepting New Orleans, I have yet to find a Greek church with an organ prior to the 1920s.

St. Sophia’s in Washington, DC didn’t have an organ in 1908, when the Washington Herald (11/1/1908) said, “Not a note of instrumental music accompanies them, for in the Greek Church it is forbidden.” But by the early 1920s, the parish had added an organ. From the Washington Post (4/8/1923): ”On this Greek Easter Day the choir of St. Sophia’s, L and Eighth Streets, N.W., is of unusual interest, there being only five Greek Orthodox churches in the world having mixed choirs and an organ.” (Earlier this year, I spoke with the current priest of St. Sophia’s, Fr. John Tavlarides. Fr. John has been there since the 1950s, and he told me that he actually stopped using the organ in 1967. It is now only used for occasional wedding processions.)

The Washington church had an influence on its Baltimore neighbor, Annunciation. From Nicholas Prevas’ House of God… Gateway to Heaven:

By the mid-1920’s, choirs and organs accompanied the Divine Liturgies – a departure from customs in the homeland where this type of music was considered a ‘western innovation’ and not typically used. Historically, up to this point, only the psaltes (cantors) sang the responses to the priest during religious services. In April 1923, however, records show $50 was paid to host a Greek church choir from Washington, D.C. Their performance must have been impressive.

Soon after, the spring 1923 general assembly approved the ‘installation of European music’ with organ accompaniment and hired Spyridon Safridis as the first music director. Within a few months, a small choir was singing liturgical hymns for the first time in the church on Homewood Avenue. The community was slowly adapting to American culture though not without objections. The following year, after many debates, parishioners voted at the general assembly meeting on March 9, 1924 as to whether or not this type of music should be kept in the church. The music remained and by the mid-1930’s a vibrant choir of voices complemented liturgical services at Annunciation.

We’ll discuss the question of mixed choirs in a future article. For now, it’s enough to note that organs were beginning to grow in popularity in the mid-1920s. The innovative priest Fr. Mark Petrakis, who had introduced pews in St. Louis, oversaw the addition of pews, an organ, and a mixed choir to Ss. Constantine and Helen Church in Chicago. From the parish history: “In 1927, George Dimopoulos, a talented chanter and choirmaster, organized a choir that included women. The choir was accompanied by an organ. Pews and an organ represented a departure from traditional Greek churches and a movement towards Americanization.”

Holy Trinity Greek Church in San Francisco had added an organ by at least 1925. When Abp Athengoras arrived in 1931, the majority of Greek churches still didn’t have organs, but the instruments were not totally unheard of. After 1931, and throughout Athenagoras’ tenure as archbishop, many more Greek churches introduced organs. This was certainly with the encouragement of Athenagoras, but he was not the originator of the practice.

I don’t have a clear answer to the question, “Why were organs introduced into Greek churches?” However, it seems like the parishes that introduced organs did so with the conscious desire to “Americanize.”

Abp Panteleimon of Neapolis (Jerusalem Patriarchate), presenting a portion of the True Cross to President Warren G. Harding in 1922

Abp Panteleimon & the Jerusalem Patriarchate in America

Abp Panteleimon of Neapolis (Jerusalem Patriarchate), presenting a portion of the True Cross to President Warren G. Harding in 1922

Abp Panteleimon of Neapolis (Jerusalem Patriarchate), presenting a portion of the True Cross to President Warren G. Harding in 1922

When most people think of the Jerusalem Patriarchate in America, they think of the controversial jursidiction that spung up in the past decade or so, which included ethnic Palestinians and some former clergy of Ss. Peter and Paul (Antiochian) in Ben Lomond, California. This jurisdiction received a bishop in 2002, but it was dissolved just last year by an agreement between the Patriarchs of Jerusalem and Constantinople.

But the history of the Jerusalem Patriarchate in America goes back long before the 21st century — all the way back to 1922 (and, in some respects, even earlier). In a 1905 report (translated by Fr. Andrew Kostadis in his 1999 St. Vladimir’s Seminary thesis Pictures of Missionary Life), St. Tikhon wrote to the Russian Holy Synod,

[I]t is difficult to trust the Greeks: although they have parishes in America, some are dependent upon the Synod of Athens, some on the Patriarchate of Constantinople, and some on Jerusalem (quite a weak dependence!), and, according to the politics characteristic of Greeks, they would hardly wish to be under any kind of subjection to the Russian hierarchy.

I’m not sure which specific Greek parishes were tied to Jerusalem; it couldn’t have been more than a few, as almost all Greek churches at the time had connections with either Constantinople or Athens.

Seventeen years later, in 1922, a hierarch of the Jerusalem Patriarchate arrived in America. He was Archbishop Panteleimon of Neapolis, and he came, initially, as the Patriarchate’s representative to the conference of the Episcopal Church, held in Portland, Oregon. (This conference was a pretty big deal, and lots of major Orthodox figures attended, but that is a story for another day.)

Abp Panteleimon got to Portland in early September, and he served the Divine Liturgy at the Greek church there. After the conference, he remained in the US, mostly with the goal of raising money for the Holy Land. Panteleimon told one newspaper (Bridgeport Telegram, 11/12/1923),

The World War and the Russian revolution are the chief reasons why the Eastern Orthodox church is unable to carry out its sacred trust as it should and endeavors to. Whereas 10,000 pilgrims from the steppes of Russia came to Jerusalem to place their life savings in our coffers each year to enable us to keep from harm the places and keep alive the memory of Our Lord, not one comes to Jerusalem today.

Abp Panteleimon also explained that the Jerusalem Patriarchate had land holdings in Russia, Turkey, and Romania, and in each case the governments of those states confiscated the land. This virtually cut off the Patriarchate’s revenue stream. (Incidentally, this highlights some of the ripple effects of the Bolshevik takeover in Russia. Its impact was felt all over the Orthodox world.)

The Washington Post (12/28/1922) reported that the Abp Panteleimon had just met with President Harding. The Archbishop made Harding a “Knight of the Order of the Holy Sepulcher,” and, most significantly, gave him a splinter of wood from the True Cross, “imbedded in wax, and inclosed in a gold box set with diamonds.”

Actually, Abp Panteleimon seems to have made a habit of awarding people with pieces of the Cross. In addition to the one he gave President Harding, he handed out at least five or six other pieces to various people. One went to the promient Episcopal Bishop William Manning, another to a Chicago merchant named A. Theodoracoplos, and another to a Washington lawyer named Soterios Nicholson. According to the Chicago Heights Star (4/12/1923), Panteleimon gave the relics “in recognition of the aid given by the people of the United States in relieving the distress of the Greek people who were murdered, outraged and rendered homeless by the Turks.”

As an Orthodox Christian, this is a little shocking. The True Cross is one of the most priceless relics we have, and the idea of it being used as a thank-you gift is a bit unsettling. I don’t doubt that the recipients were worthy of some sort of honor, but why not just give them a medal, or an icon, or something? Why the Cross of Christ?

Anyway, Abp Panteleimon appears to have established a metochion (basically, an embassy church)  in the US. I’m not sure where this metochion was; possibly New York City, though it may have been in Washington, DC, since the Archbishop spent a lot of time in that city. While in America, Abp Panteleimon convinced a young Greek man named John Nicholaides to be ordained a priest. This man later returned to Greece and went on to become a great Athonite ascetic, Elder Joachim of St. Anne’s Skete.

The last traces I have of Abp Panteleimon are from 1924, and he was certainly gone by 1930 at the latest. (That’s when the Ecumenical Patriarchate reorganized the Greek Archdiocese.) I’d be very interested to learn more about Abp Panteleimon and his metochion, if anyone out there has any information.

Also, it would be interesting to know what happened to the pieces of the Cross distributed by Abp Panteleimon. Is President Harding’s piece still in the White House, or did it go to his family? What about the pieces given to the aforementioned Mr. Theodoracoplos of Chicago, or Soterios Nicholson of Washington, or Peter Vanech of Stamford, Connecticut?

As you can see, there’s a lot left to be learned about Abp Panteleimon.

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