From a sermon preached by Fr. Bulgakov
at the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross
14 September, 1924
Today the Lord's Cross is raised before all the world; today 'the Cross is raised and the world hallowed', and the faithful are called to worship the thrice blessed Tree on which Christ was crucified. We pray to the tree of the Cross, and we pray to the holy life-bearing Cross itself, we invoke it, we call to it: 'Thou art my mighty defence, tri-partite Cross of Christ, hallow me with thy power that I in faith and love may worship thee and glorify thee.' 'Rejoice, life-bearing Cross, unhindered victory of godliness, the door of Paradise, the confirmation of the faithful, the defence of the Church...impregnable armour, bane of devils...bestowing mercy upon the world.' 'O Cross of Christ, thou hope of Christians, teacher of those in error, haven of the storm-tossed, victory in battle, pillar of the universe, physician of the sick, resurrection of the dead, have mercy upon us.' 'Those who rely upon thee, O thrice blessed and life-giving Cross, rejoice together with the heavenly hosts.' 'Invincible, unfathomable and divine power of the life-giving and honorable Cross, do not forsake us sinners.' 'O glorious and life-giving Cross of the Lord, help us together with our Holy Lady the Mother of God and all the saints, world without end. Amen.'
But however much we may revere the actual precious and life-bearing Cross of the Lord, surely we are not tree worshippers who pray to a tree as to a living being, as to an intelligible essence? Is it to a tree, even if it be thrice-blessed, that we pray, or to the divine power and mystery of the Cross manifested to us in that tree? Worship of Christ's Cross is indeed inseparable for us from the worship of of the Cross abiding in heaven, a divine and unfathomable power. The earthly Cross leads our minds to the contemplation of its archetype the heavenly Cross, as indivisibly united to it as the divine and the human nature are indivisibly but without confusion united in Christ. The heavenly Cross of the Lord shone forth on earth in the tree of the Cross, the instrument of our salvation.
At the creation of the world the seed of trees for the Cross was planted in it--the cedar, the oak, the cypress; on the day when the earth was bidden to bring forth every kind of plant, the trees for the Cross sprang up. But the Cross made of wood is the symbol of the Eternal Cross, the revelation of the mystery of the Cross. The sign of the Cross is written upon the world as a whole, for in the words of the Church anthem, it is the 'four pointed power' binding together the 'four corners of the world' as 'height, breadth, and depth'. It is written too in the image of man with his arms outstretched: Moses and Joshua praying with their arms uplifted prefigured the Crucified. The form of the body calls forth, as it were, the tree of the Cross, for it is itself a Cross, the centre of which is the heart. In the image of the Cross the Creator inscribed His own image in the world and in man, for according to the testimony of the Church, the Cross is the divine image printed upon the world. What does the sign mean? It proclaims God's love, and in the first place God's love for His creation. The world is created by the power of the Cross, for God's love for the creation is sacrificial. The world is saved by the Cross, by sacrificial love; it is blessed by the Cross and overshadowed by its power. But the mystery of the Cross, is even more profound, for it wondrously the image of the Tri-Personal God, of the Trinity in unity. The Church teaches that it is the symbol of the unfathomable Trinity, the three-membered Cross bearing the tri-personal image of the Trinity. The Cross is the revelation of the Holy Trinity, and the power of the Cross is a divine power. When we call in prayer upon the incomprehensible, invincible, and divine power of the precious life-giving Cross, we pray to the Source of life, the Trinity in unity, one and divine in life and substance. The Cross is God Himself in His revelation to the world, God's power and glory.
God is love and the Cross is the symbol of divine love. Love is sacrificial. the power and flame, the very nature of love is the Cross, and there is no love apart from it. The Cross is the sacrificial essence of love, since love is a sacrifice, self-surrender, self-abnegation, voluntary self renunciation for the sake of the beloved. Without sacrifice there can be no acceptance, no meeting, no life in and for another; there is no bliss in love except in sacrificial self-surrender which is rewarded by responsive fulfilment. The Cross is the exchange of love, indeed love itself is exchange. There is no other path for love and for its wisdom but the path of the Cross. The Holy Trinity is the Eternal Cross as the sacrificial exchange of Three, the single life born of voluntary surrender, of a threefold self-surrender, of being dissolved in the divine ocean of sacrificial love. The tri-partite Cross is the symbol of the Holy Trinity. How is this true? In the Cross three lines meet and intersect; they approach one another from different points but as they intersect they become one in the heart of the Cross, at their meeting point. Similarly in the Holy Trinity the divine life of the Tri-unity is an eternal meeting, exchange of self-surrender and of self-discovery in the two other Hypostases. No limits can be set on love or sacrifice. Renouncing oneself in order to live again in the other--such is the bliss of love. He who loves another loves the Cross as well, since love is sacrificial. Love itself, God, in the Eternal Cross surrenders Himself for the sake of His love. The three points in which the lines of the Tri-cross end are images of the Three Divine Self-subsistent Hypostases, and the point of their intersection is the co-inherence of the Three, the Trinity in unity in sacrificial exchange.
The bliss of divine love is the sacrificial bliss of the Cross, and its power is a sacrificial power. If the world is created by love, it is created by no other power than the power of the Cross. God who is love creates it by taking up the Cross in order to reveal His love for the creature. The Almighty Creator leaves room in the world for the creature's freedom, thus as it were humbling Himself, limiting His almightiness, emptying Himself for the benefit of the creature. The world is created through the Cross of God's love for the creature. But in creating the world through the Cross, God in His eternal counsel determines to save it, also through the Cross, from itself, from perishing in its creatureliness. God so loved the world that from all eternity He gave His only begotten Son to be sacrificed on the Cross to save the world and call it to eternal life through the death of the Cross and Resurrection. God seeks in the creature a friend, another self, with whom He can share the bliss of love, to whom He can impart the divine life, and in His boundless love for the creature He does not stop at sacrifice, but sacrifices Himself for the sake of the creature. The boundlessness of the divine sacrifice for the sake of the world and its salvation passes all understanding. The Son humbles Himself to become man, taking upon Him the form of a servant and becoming obedient unto death, even the death of the Cross. The Father does not spare His beloved, His only-begotten Son, but gives Him to be crucified; the Holy Spirit accepts descent into the fallen and hardened world and rests upon the Anointed, Christ, dwells in His Mother, and sanctifies the Church. It is the sacrifice not of the Son alone, but of the consubstantial and indivisible Trinity as a whole. The Son alone was incarnate and suffered on the Cross, but in Him was manifested the sacrificial love of the Holy Trinity--of the Father who sends Him, and of the Holy Spirit who rests upon Him and upon His sorrowing Mother. The Cross was prepared in the world by God for God and was therefore prefigured in the Old Testament by many symbols and images. And the Cross appeared to the world as the salutary tree, as victory over the world; hence the sign of the Cross will victoriously appear in heaven at the second glorious coming of the Son of God, and in the heaven of heavens there ever shines the Holy Cross, the vision of which was vouchsafed to St. Andrew.
Demons tremble at the blessed sign of the Cross. The Cross is to them a consuming fire. Why do they tremble at this fore of love? Because they hate love, because they are darkened by selfishness and cannot abide the path of the Cross; they are united in their legions by the power of common hatred and not love. The cheering and comforting fire is to them an unendurable flame.
The Cross is the figurative inscription of God's Name, working miracles and manifesting powers, like the name of God revealed to Moses. The Cross is the symbol of the Holy Trinity, the sacred sign of God who is in love, burning up enmity, malice, and hatred.
This heavenly Cross has been revealed to us men in the Cross of Christ, in the blessed tree the image of which we worship and kiss with awe. We are signed with it as soldiers of Christ, we wear it on the breast and carry it in our hearts. A Christian is essentially a Cross-bearer. The sweetest Name of Jesus is said to have been inscribed on the heart of St. Ignatius of Antioch, the God-bearer; and similarly the heart of a Christian holds the Cross of the Lord which has pierced it once and for all and set it aglow. A Christian lives in God, and, in so far as he enters into the love of Christ, shares both in the burden and in the sweetness of His Cross. To worship the Cross and to glory in it is for him not an external commandment, but an inner behest: 'Whosoever will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his Cross, and follow Me.' we can only worship the Cross to the extent to which we share in it. He who is afraid of the Cross and in his inmost heart rejects it worships it falsely and deceives his own conscience. This is why today's feast is both sweet and terrible, and the Church accompanies its celebration with a strict fast. The Cross shines in the sinful darkness of our heart, illumining it and at the same time exposing it. Our sinful, self-loving nature fears it and resists it. Why deceive ourselves? The natural man is afraid of the Cross. And yet we must overcome this fear; we must bring forth the tree of the Cross in our hearts, lift it up, and worship it. We must lay on our shoulders, too, as did Simon, the Cyrenian passer-by, the burden of Christ's Cross. Everyone must take up his Cross and never leave it, and, raising the Cross in his own soul, help to raise it in the world.
The Saviours command to bear one's Cross is not a harsh infliction of pain, but God's great mercy towards man. It is a sign of God's love for man, of great respect for him. God wants His highest creation to participate in His Cross, in His joy and bliss. It was vouchsafed to Adam while still blissfully ignorant of good and evil to taste the sweetness of the Cross through obeying the divine command not to eat of the fruit of tree of knowledge. The tree of life and the tree of knowledge grew together in the garden of Eden. That was the paradisal sign of the Cross: renouncing his own will and doing the will of the heavenly Father, man was crucified on the tree which became for him the tree of life, full of eternal bliss. But through the whispering of the wily serpent, Adam and Eve rejected the Cross; they came down from it having willfully disobeyed. And the tree became deadly for them and gave them knowledge of good and evil, which entailed exile from paradise. But the New Adam, the Lord, the Son of man and only-begotten Son of God, ascended the Cross which the first Adam had forsaken; He was lifted up on the Cross so as to draw all men unto Him, for there is no way except that of the Cross to the sweetness of paradise. The ancient serpent tries to get Him too, saying to the Crucified through the mouth of his servants: 'Come down from the Cross!' But the new temptation was rejected, and the tree of knowledge became once more the tree of life, a life-bearing garden, and those who taste its fruit partake of immortality. In every man so long as he lives there lives the seed of the old Adam; he hears the unceasing whisper seconded by his natural frailty and infirmity: 'Come down from the Cross, don't torture yourself.' The world wars against the Cross, is driven to fury by the preaching of the gospel; love of the world is hatred of the Cross. But love of God is also love of the Lord's Cross, for our hard, rebellious heart can only love it if it be pierced by the Cross. Sweet are thy wounds to my heart, O most sweet Jesus, and it knows of no greater sweetness!
O Glorious Miracle, the width of the Cross matches the breadth of heaven, since divine grace hallows all. Amen.
Freedom, or to understand
freedom, is one of the pillars of sophiology. Yet, freedom is difficult to
understand because this word is used to cover a wide range of different
meanings. Fr. Bulgakov speaks of this character of freedom as somewhat of a
chameleon character of freedom. Freedom, Fr. Bulgakov continues, does not
have a positive content. It is not a thing in itself. Rather;
"It is inevitably correlative to something,
expresses not what but how (Fr. Sergius Bulgakov, The
Bride of the Lamb, p. 125)." Freedom is a modality which manifests
itself in different ways under different circumstances dependent upon its
subject/object. "Freedom in general does not exist;
only the freedom of something, in something, from something, to something, or
for something exists. Freedom is a predicate, which can be predicated
in relation to different concepts or essences, and it is more negative or
delimiting than positive in its application (Bride, p. 125)."
Whenever freedom is taken as some-thing in itself, that is whenever it
is seen or considered outside of these relations that determine it, a mistake in
categories takes place. The categorie of modality is mistaken for the
categorie of reality. Such substantial freedom (freedom as a
substance) is purely fictional and illusory. It doesn't exist; other than in our
minds where the mistake in categories is made. Freedom exist exclusively
within the limits of existent objects/subjects. Freedom is therefore
necessarily a relative concept. Absolute creaturely freedom does not
exist, such contradicts the very nature of creaturely freedom. Again,
"the concept of freedom gets its positive content
only depending upon that to which it is applied,.. (Bride, p. 126)."
Freedom as such cannot be apllied or ascribed to God. There is no boundary, no
limit, for God so that He could be free of, from, in, to, or for. There is no
place in God for relative, limited being. In other words freedom is inapplicable
to God because God is not a creature. God is higher than freedom. Although one
could also say that God is supra-freedom, and therefore God is also
higher than necessity, or one could say that God is supra-necessity.
Human persons are created in the image of God and bear a certain resemblance to
the Divine Person. This means that a creaturely I is self-positing.
This is a German Idealist concept that Fr. Bulgakov uses to expound an Orthodox
anthropology. The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy credits Johan Gotlieb
Fichte with the discovery of this concept and explains it very briefly:
"Fichte is suggesting that the self, which he
typically refers to as "the I," is not a static thing with fixed properties, but
rather a self-producing process. Yet if it is a self-producing process, then it
also seems that it must be free, since in some as yet unspecified fashion it
owes its existence to nothing but itself (Internet Encyclopedia of
Philosophy, Entry: Johann Gotlieb Fichte)." This allows us to say
that to be free is an inalienable aspect of being a person. Without this
autonomous being a person does not exist, this self-positing is what it is
to be free, to be a person.
This self-positing of the creaturely I is possible, in Fichte's system, only
because of an not-I. Self-positing is to be self-aware, and to be
self-aware the self-positing activity of the I needs a check or resistance of
something that is not I, not part of the self. This something is nature in
Fichte's concept, but in Fr. Bulgakov nature is necessarily included in
the selfpositing activity of the I. Fr. Bulgakov criticizes Fichte on this point
and corrects him: ",.. Fichte's insight remained
limited, because, from this self-positing he excluded natural
self-determination, while including only pure I-ness. However, nature does
essentially enter into the creative self-positing of I, for outside of
nature, there is nothing for I to posit in itself in order to live (Bride,
p. 41)." Fr. Bulgakov likens Fichte's idea of the act of self-positing
without nature essentially entering into this action, but as outer limit to
I to a source of light deprived of space to be illumined. Such a light does
not shine because it has nothing to illumine. However, Fr. Bulgakov does
agree with Fichte that the selfpositing I needs to meet some resistance, some
limit not other than itself, a mirror in which its can see itself and thus
become aware of itself as I. This is another self, another selfpositing I. This
is not to say that nature does not pose a limit to the I, it does insofar as it
is not-I but it is included in I's selfpositing. Nature is the
necessary medium in and through which a naked, pure I manifests, or better yet,
reveals itself. I lives in its nature, and cannot live without it. Co-I's form
another limit to the selfpositing I. "To deepen the
analysis of nonself, Bulgakov uses Feuerbach's concept of 'Thou' according to
Bulgakov, in this nonself, the self can see only itself, unless it discerns in
it another self, which is 'thou'. Without the 'Thou', or without this 'self' in
the other, the 'self' cannot understand or actualize itself in its own
consciousness (Fr. Michael Meerson, Russian Religious Thought, p.
146)." The creaturely person is free, within the limits of
nature and other I's. In fact, limitations are the necessary foundations of
freedom since freedom is only a modality and not a substance in its own
right. Freedom arises only in unfreedom.
"The creaturely I is not absolute; its very freedom is unfree, confined within
certain boundaries (Bride, p. 127)."
Returning to the concept of absolute freedom it may be said that God is
absolutely free. He has no need of a non-self outside Himself to be the absolute
tripartite selfpositing triple I or I am. The
Trinity is therefore fully autonomous and selfsufficient unto Itself. In the
Trinitarian Person itself God has His Other, His 'Thou';
",.. I and Thou are contained in one trinitarian
Person (Bride, p. 127)." But what is
it that makes God to be free from freedom? Free from any limits and boundaries?
Fr. Bulgakov answers that it is love. Or more precisely the love of the
Trinitarian Persons among one another. It is the power if this love that allows
the personal principle to be fully revealed so that every possible limitation is
overcome in God. The Divine Person is fully revealed in Its Nature. In the
creaturely person nature is givenness or unfreedom.
"God's nature is fullness, in which neither what is
given nor what is proposed exists (Bride, p. 128)."
For God nature is not a limit, a boundary, which
could constitute a duality and therefore would give rise to creaturely freedom
in God. God, if you will remember, is free from freedom because He is
above freedom. God has His nature
"which as ousia or physis, is the root and depth of divine being and
which, as Sophia, is its selfrevelation in God (Bride, p. 128)."
It should be understood that Sophia in Fr. Bulgakov's sophiology cannot be
simply identified with the Divine Ousia. The Divine Ousia is revealed in Sophia,
but not identical to her. Sophia bears very strong resemblance to the Palamite
Energies. In fact, as Fr. Bulgakov specifically says, by accepting the
Palamite synthesis the Church has definitively set a course towards sophiology.
Gregorios
The Bride of the Lamb; Section 1, Chapter
1, Paragraph 1
Fr. Sergius concerns himself here with a theology of creation. Fr. Sergius
writes: 'In the Christian
understanding of the relation between God and the world, it is first necessary
to exclude two polar opposites: pantheistic, or atheistic, monism on the one
hand and the dualistic conception of creation on the other (Bride of the Lamb,
p. 3).' Fr. Sergius speaks out
against pantheism and unhesitatingly asserts that it is atheism. I had to read
that a couple of times when I first worked my way through this book. Pantheism,
far as I know, is not usually classified as an atheistic philosophy. Fr. Sergius
is the first to have confronted me with that idea. Yet his reasoning, I believe,
is simple and insightful.
Since pantheism doesn't distinguish between God and the world, God and the world
are ultimately identical. In Christian theology God is other from the world.
Creator and creation cannot be simply identified. For this identification denies
the reality of God. The philosophy of pantheism has no place for the
transcendend God and effectively denies Him. Fr. Sergius therefore concludes
that pantheism, even if it is clothed in the language of mystical experience, is
atheistic.
Another problem I think Fr. Sergius correctly identifies is that pantheism
denies the creation of the world. For the world is self-sufficient and has no
Creator. The world must, therefore, be eternal and uncreated. The philosophy of
pantheism is absolutely incompatible with Christianity. Fr. Sergius writes:
"For pantheism, the world is is
self-evident and does not need an explanation fior itself (Bride, p. 4)."
Gregorios
A Brief Satement of the Place of the Virgin Mary in the Thought and Worship of the Orthodox Church
Presented to Section IV of the Edinburgh Conference
by the Rev. Sergius Bulgakov D.D.
Sobornost NO 12 December 1937
The veneration of Our Lady in the Orthodox Church rests on not any dogmatic
definitions besides the definition of the Third Ecumenical Council, as Mother of
God (theotokos) but rather on the tradition of piety, explained
dogmatically in theological doctrine. Despite this fact veneration has so
important a place in the whole life of the Orthodox Church that it cannot be
passed over in silence. For according to Orthodox feeling, nothing in the Church
cab be achieved without her blessing and intercession. The main idea of this
veneration is, of course, the Incarnation of the Logos taken from its human
side. The Mother of God is, so to say, the personal humanity of Christ from
which is taken His human nature; and in this sense she is representative of all
human kind in its dignity and sanctity predestined for the Incarnation. In that
sense she is the "second Eve," the flower on the tree of humanity, the ripest
fruit of the whole history of the Old Testament Church. She represents the free
will of the handmaid of God which was given in obedience to the will of God. her
participation in the Incarnation of the Logos is in that sense necessary and
essential, and she was overshadowed by the Holy Spirit in the Annunciation and
became His perpetual dwelling, the "Spirit-bearer."
The Incarnation is achieved through the action of two persons of the Holy
Trinity: of the Holy Spirit who is incarnating the Logos, and the Logos Himself
who is incarnated; and through teh action of the blessed woman who was able and
holy enough to receive the conception of the Logos. Through this action of God
Himself, the Mother of God in the Incarnation came into perpetual, eternal, and
indissoluble connection and nearness with the Lord Incarnate. This idea is
expressed in her Icon, in which she is depicted usually with the Child in her
arms. This is actually the Icon of the Incarnation. In that aspect she is not
only an individual human personality, but the whole of humanity, its personal
head and representative, its heart and its Holy of Holies. She belongs to this
humanity and as its representative she shares its destinies in original sin as
the common sickness of mankind, resulting in mortality. She needs salvation
herself, and she recognizes God as her Saviour (Luke i. 47). But sh does not
realise the original sin in personal sins because she is holy and sinless even
from her nativity (which is celebrated in the Orthodox Church as a great feast)
and particularly after the Annunciation, which means her personal Pentecost.
As the Mother of Christ, who gave Him flesh and humanity, she is glorified and
resurrected by her Son, is exalted and, as is said: " is seated at the right
hand of Christ." She does not cease to belong to the created world, which is not
left by her, but she is in the state of the last glorification which is
predestined for the creature. She is not subject even to the Last Judgment, to
which even angels are subject. She is there present merely for the propitiating
of her Son who will be the Judge.
She is glorified by the Church as the Queen of Heaven and earth. That means that she is in a certain sense teh centre of the whole created universe, of all elements. Of course, she is no "goddess," but a creature herself, and she has this power because of the grace of God which abides upon her in full degree. In that sense she is
"more honorable and glorious than the Cherubim and Seraphim,
exalted above all angels, and surpasses the Saints."
To her and through her our prayers to her Son are raised, although this does not
mean that we are not able to pray to God direclty and personally. Yet even in
our personal prayers we always are connected with our Mother who is the Mother
of our Saviour. The Blessed Virgin belongs to the Communicatio Sanctorum
as the head of this holy company. But at teh same time she cannot be simply
included or identified with it because of her personal nearness to Christ and
her complete glorification.
This whole practice of piety and the corresponding teaching is given us only in
a limited degree in the Holy Scriptures, in spite of the fact that the main
ideas of the Incarnation from the Virgin Mary are given in it, and are
recognised in creeds (Apostolic and Nicene). The further development of the
veneration of the Blessed Virgin is due to Holy Tradition, to the inspiration in
the life of the Church, which is of certain religious self-evidence. It has an
axiomatic character, as a necessary conclusion of the experience of the Church
which was and is enriched from age to age.
Of course this piety absolutely excludes even any thought of the possibility for
Mary after the Annunciation and Nativity of Christ to have had a husband and
children by human marriage. She is not only Virgin and the Mother of Christ, but
still more: Ever-Virgin (Aei-parthenos). That means that in her is the
original virginity and purity of mankind which is proper to it in its creation.
The Journal of the Fellowship of St. Alban and St. Sergius, no. 22, 1933, p. 7-17.
by
Fr. Sergius Bulgakov
An article on the actual unity of the apparently divided Church: in prayer,
faith, and sacrament (John 4, 23).
The language of the New Testament frequently coins the term :"the Church" or
"the Churches." On the one hand there is the mystical unity of the Church as the
Body of Christ, on the other hand there are the specific communities in which
such life was realized. We still use the same terms, not only in the
abovementioned sense but als in that of different Christian confessions. We must
admit that such use of the "Churches" often shocks us, for in our own minds, for
example we often think that actually there exists only one Church, namely the
Orthodox Church -- whereas all that stands outside Orthodoxy is not the Church.
But the evidence of the use of language cannot be explained away by mere
civility ot hypocrisy, for it contains a concept that a sort of these
"non-Churches" belongs to the Church." For actually these Churches are distinct
to us from the non-Christian world. Already in the Gospel narrative we trace
this relativeness in connection with the idea of the Church. Our Lord, who came
not to destroy teh law but to fulfill it, belonged himself to the Jewish Church.
He was a faithful Israelite carrying out its precepts, and this in spite of all
its exclusiveness. And yet we get a solemn witness about the Church universal in
our Lord's conversation with the Samaritan woman by Jacob's well. We are equally
struck here both by the very fact that this conversation (which so astonished
teh disciples) took place, and by the universal "good news" of Our Lord's
message. Believe Me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither
on this mountain nor in Jerusalem ... but the hour is coming, indeed is already
here, when true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth:
that is the kind of worshipper the Father seeks (Jn 4, 21, 23). And he then
reveals to her, a Samaritan, that he is the Christ.
All the events in the life of Our Lord have not only a temporary but also an eternal significance, ad this is also true of his conversation with the Samaritan woman. For even at the present time we find that we stand by Jacob's well and also ask Jesus Christ about where we must worship the Lord. And even now we, who are the "Jews," know what we worship "for salvation is from the Jews" (Nulla salus extra ecclesiam -- "Outside the Church there is no salvation"). And in our day also Our Lord reveals himself to the Samaritan woman and calls on all to worship in spirit and in truth. The harsh, unbending, unrelenting institutionalism of the one saving Church conflicts here with a service in the Spirit, which "blows where it pleases, and you can hear the sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from and where it is going." (Jn 3, 8). There exist between the Church and the Churches not only a relationship of mutual expulsion but also one of concordance. This unity is simultaneously something already given and something we must attain to. Ni single historical Church can so confine its attention to itself alone as to ignore the Christian world beyond its own limits. Even heresies and schisms are manifestations taking place only within the life of the Church -- for pagans and men of other faiths are not heretics and schismatics to us. One can picture differently the ways to Church unity, but its very existence already assumes the fact of actual unity. The Church is one, as life in Christ by the Holy Spirit is one. Only, participation in this unity can be of varying degrees and depths.
Therefore, quite naturally, there are two aspects in the relation of Orthodoxy
to non-Orthodoxy: a repulsion in the struggle of truth with an incomplete truth,
and a mutual attraction of Church love. History and a sad realism apprehended
more of the former aspect of this relationship, for the spirit of schism and
division is not only a characteristic of "heretics" and "schismatics." The will
for division is the evil genius that first split up the West and East, and which
ever since persues its devastating work further and further.
But can the realization of the truth of our Church be silenced even for a
moment, or conversely, can we ever fail to be aware of the untruth of those who
think differently? Might not such an attitude result in the sin of lack of
faith, which seeks to avoid confessing its own truth and perhaps suffering for
it? And so in repulsion and attraction, unity and division, we see a peculiar
dialectic of Church life, which compromises the thesis and the antithesis, and
we observe that the greater exertion of the one, the acuter the other. The way
of "ecumenical" Church life, which strived for Church unity, is simultaneously
associated both with a fuller realization of confessional differences and a
growing consciousness of unity. But although there seems to be no escape from
this antinomy, the Spirit of God actually transcends it through a new kind of
synthesis that is brought about, not by means of a new agreement or compromise,
but by a new inspiration. The distinction between various confessions lies first
of all in dogmatic differences, and then in religious and practical
discrepancies that result from them. These are on the surface and are apparent
to all. But that which constitutes Church unity (that which is already given) --
this is hidden in the very depths. Meanwhile this task is a duty both of Church
love and of practical utility. One must realize and express the positive
spiritual basis of Christian "ecumenicsm" not only as an idea but also as an
actuality existing by grace. We experience it as a breathing of God's Spirit in
grace, as a revelation of Pentecost, when people begin to understand one another
in spite of the diversity of tongues.
Let us try to express quite concisely this positive basis of unity, which
actually exists even now in the Christian world.
Prayer
The division that occurred in the Church, whatever its origin, was associated with a separation in prayer and remains as an unhealed wound in the Body of the Church. Such is the logic of our frail nature, which cannot contain the entire truth, but only parts of it. Dissociation in prayer, having once arisen, strives to become permanent, lasting, and constant. We are now faced by the strange and provoking sight of Christians praying to God and their Saviour, Our Lord Jesus Christ, in separate communities. Moreover, this division is enforced in the rules of the Church, which, arose, it is true, in the fourth and fifth centuries, but which retain even now the force of actual law. They have not been cancelled formally, although life itself cancles them. The general purpose of these rules in the first place was of course to banish "indifference" by applying protective measures, which were then in accord with the accute struggle with heresy. But measures of defense loose their significance when there is no attacking party -- and we see this state of affairs in a whole range of interconfessional relationshps in our own time. We are bound to recognize not only that whuich separates us, but also that which remains common to us all, notwithstanding divisions. The ability to distinguish in life all that constitutes the common heritage of the whole Christian world is the great achievement (only possible through grace) of contemporary "ecumenism," namely the movement striving for Church unity. An encounter between Christians of different confessions, as Christians, is a great joy that is bestowed on us in our time by the Holy Spirit and a new revelation of the universal Pentecost. Nothing is easier to criticize than this "pan-Christianity" by pointing out that there can exist no "Christianity in general," but only one true Church in its indestructible concreteness and wholeness. This is true, no doubt, in the sense that the fullness of worship in an ordained and divinely inspired cult can only exist in unanimity. But even so tehre still remains Christianity as such -- as faith in our Lord, love for him, and worship directed to him -- and this Christianity endures not only in Orthodoxy but as something common to all confessions. We are particularly clear about this and aware of it in missionary work where Christians are compelled, when confronted by pagans, to get a fuller and deeper consciousness of their own Christianity.
The united prayer of Christians, belonging to different confessions, in Churches and outside them, is becoming a more and more usual occurence at the present time. This new practice is not merely a liberty that is quite out of place where strict discipline is exercised, but a common Christian achievement, a capacity for uniting in that which is an actual reality. A time will dawn when the Orthodox Church will define certain rules for this practice and will give the required directions. Meanwhile all this is done in a groping manner, as circumstances demand. This united common prayer can be based dogmatically on the fact that the name of Our Lord is hallowed and called on by all Christians. Christ is present in his name to each one who prays thus, "For where two or three meet in My name, I am there among them" (Mt 18, 20). In truth all Christians who call on Christ's name in prayer are already actually one with Christ; when we lift our eyes to heaven, earthly barriers cease to exist for us.
But is this actually so? Do these barriers remain even in our union in prayer? Yes, in a certain sense they remain. For we cannot unite in everything with our brethren in prayer. For example, we cannot pray to the blessed Virgin and to teh saints with Protestants. We can find differences in worship even with Roman Catholics, although these differences may not be so essential. But we are not compelled to be silent over these differences, and, if so, is this not treason to Orthodoxy? We must not close our eyes to the fact that such dangers, generally speaking, do exist. The position of Orthodoxy in its relation to the Protestant world is especially unfavorable in this case, precisely because Orthodoxy, for the sake of communion in prayer, is forced to adapt itself by, as it were, minimizing itself, thereby losing some of its fulness. Of course, if this is done out of love for the sake of Church "economy" it is permissible, for it is then regarded as a sacrifice of love, in accordance with the Apostle Paul's principle of being "all things to all men." Our brtethren, however, should realize that this is only a sacrifice of love and a condescension to their weakness, not a denial of our own faith.
However, in communion in worship with the non-Orthodox we must "know our measure" so that no distortions or poverty may result in our prayer life. But there is also a positive side to this communion in prayer. We are wont to pride ourselves on our liturgical wealth, as compared to the severe and simple rites of the Protstants. And yet we must not close our eyes to the fact that, in actual practice, we are far from realizing to the full this wealth of ours. so that in some instances it lies upon us as a dead weight of custom. Protestantism, in spite of, its apparent liturgical poverty, knows a living extempore prayer, in which the human soul in a childlike way turns directly to Our Father in heaven. This is the wealth of Protestantism even though it is associated with liturgical poverty.
The Word of God
The Holy Gospels are the commin property of the entire Christian world. Through the Gospels Christ himself speaks directly to the human soul. The soul listens to him and adores him in worship. Generally, in our attitude to the non-Orthodox, we underestimate the power of the Gospels. The four Gospels give us a marvelous icon of our Saviour, drawn by the Holy Spirit of God -- a veritable icon in words. When the Eternal Book is studied not only by the mind but also with the heart, when the soul "bows down over the Gospels," then the sacrament of the Word, born in that soul, is celebrated.
People incline to minimize this direct impact of the Word of God (efficiateas verbi - "efficaciousness of the Word"), addressed to every single soul, stressing in an exaggerated way the significance of holy tradition for its correct understanding. In practice the significance of holy tradition for a living response to the Word of God should not be exaggerated. It has bearing on theology and on certain disputed questions of a dogmatic nature. One might add here that the importance of tradition does not in any way exclude, but actually presupposes, a direct response to the Word of God, which has its life in the Church -- both in its soborny (Catholic, communal) consciousness (tradition), and in personal interpretation. And what is especially important is the fact that nothing can replace our personal life with the Gospel (the same applies to the whole Bible). We should be ready to admit the fact that among Orthodox nations the personal reading of the Word of God is considerably less widespread than it is among Protestants, though this is partly replaced by its use in divine worship. The Bible and the Gospels are common Christian property, and the entire Christian world, without distinction of confession bends in prayer over the Gospels. It may be urged that a true understanding of the Gospels is given only to the Church. This is, of course, the case in one sense, yet sincere and devout readers of the Gospels through this alone are already within the Church -- that is, in the one and Evangelical Church.
The Spiritual Life
A Christian who lives in the Church necessarily has also his personal life in Christ, which is simultaneously both personal and "of the Church." Dogma and dogmatic peculiarities cannot fail to be reflected in this personal experience. But in the absence of Christological differences there is a wide field of common faith, even where dogmatic divergences actually do exist. For can one say that "Christ is divided" for a contemporary Orthodox, Roman Catholic, or believing Protestant? In their love of Our Lord and their striving towards him, all Christians are one. This is why the language of the mystics and their experience is common to all. We find that spiritual life, in which the divine is really tasted, unites Christians to a far greater extent than does dogmatic perception. When we sense these tremulous contacts our souls respond to them independently of confessional relationships. It may be that this is the most important result of interrelations of various confessions, which though not reflected in formulae and resolutions, represent a spiritual reality. During the Lausanne Conference this feeling of a kind of common spiritual experience of unity in Christ was remarkable strong. It became clear to all that something had happened above and beyond anything written down in the reports and minutes. On the other hand, apart from this kind of experience as such, there cannot be any Christian unity; for this can only be realized through Christian inspiration in a new vision of Pentecost, for which we aspire and which, in part, we already obtain. This unity in Christ, established by the similarity of Christian experience, is a kind of spiritual communion of all in the one Christ, established long before Communion from the same Chalice can take place. This de facto similarity in the experience of the Christian world, in spite of all its multiplicity, insufficiently realized. Unfortunately, we tend to stress our dogmatic disagreements much more than our common Christian heritage. A mystical intercommunion has always existed among Christians, and in our days more so than previously. Mutual fellowship among the representatives of theological thought, an interchange of ideas, scientific and theological research, a kind of life in common "over the Gospel" -- all this tends to make the existing division between Christian confessions already to a certain extent unreal. Symbolic theology is also tending more and more to become "comparative" instead of being "denunciatory." This is even more evident when we come to mystical, pastoral, and ascetic works, and especially to the lives of the saints. With what attention and devotion the Western saints, such as St. Genevieve, St. Francis of Assisi, and others. And we ought to cultivate deliberately this spiritual interpenetration, which is naturally increasing more and more. In this way we shall appropriate to ourselves the gifts that have been bestowed on others, and through comparison we shall come to know our own nature more fully and deeply.
Thus there exists even now a certain spiritual unity within the Christian world, although this is not expressed in any formulae. But we should add to this mystical, adogmatic unity of the Christian world the reality of its dogmatic oneness. Owing to a certain onesided-ness, Christians of various confessions are actually sensitive to their dogmatic differences, while they do not feel their mutual agreement in the same way. The definition "heretic," which is really only applicable to certain features of a world outlook, is extended to the entire man, who is completely anathematized for a particular heresy. This was so throughout the course of Christian history. But it would be absolutely inconsistent for us to adopt such language today. For it is time at last to say openly that there exist no heretics in the general sense of the term, but only in a special and particular sense. Such an interpretation, among many others, can be given to the words of the apostle Paul: "It is no bad thing either that there should be differing groups among you" (1 Cor. 11, 19). Of course, in itself, a special heresy stands also for a common affliction, which is detrimental to the spiritual life without, however, destroying it. And it is perhaps difficult and impossible for us really to define the extent of this damage during the epoch when the particular dogmatic division arose. We must not also lose sight of the fact that in addition to heresies of the mind there exist heresies of life, or one-sidedness. One can, while remaining an Orthodox, actually tend toward monophysitism in practice, by leaning either toward Docetic spiritualism or Manicheism, or toward Nestorianism by separating the two natures in Christ, which leads in practice to the "secularization" of culture. And perhaps in this sense it will be found that we are all heretics in various ways. Yet it by no means follows from this that Orthodoxy and the Orthodox Church do not exist. It only shows that heresy, as a division, only exists within the limits of the Church and not outside it, and it implies a defectiveness in Church life.
From this it follows that heresy is only partial damage, we must take into account in dealing with heretics not only that which is heretical but also that which is Orthodox in them. For example through having an incorrect doctrine on the Filioque, do Roman Catholics cease to believe in the redemptive work of Our Lord, or in the sacraments of the Church? And although this seems obvious, all Christians must yet realize not only their divisions but also their agreement. Our Creed, The Nicene Creed (it is true, in its defective form owing to the Filioque), together with the ancient Apostolic and Athanasian Creeds, concstitute the general confession of Orthodoxy, Roman Catholicism, and Protestantism, and we must never lose sight of this basis of our dogmatic unity.
The Sacraments
At the present time it is in the sacraments that the Christian confessions are most effectively separated from one another. Sacramental fellowship is still only a remote aim, which still remains unaccomplished in the relationships between Orthodoxy, Roman Catholicism, and Protestantism. In the relationship between Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism on the one hand, and Protestantism on on the other, the main barrier is the absence of valid orders and apostolic succession. This barrier does not arise between teh first two confessions. Now, in the vast majority of Christian confessions, sacraments are recognized, in spite of all the diversity of theological teaching associated with them. What attitude ought we to adopt toward the efficacy of these sacraments, and in what measure can this or that theological interpretation associated with them be considered decisive? Although the latter can effect the efficacy of sacraments (only, however, from the side of ex opere operantis, and not of ex opere operato), nevertheless, given the existence of a common faith (say in the Eucharist), the significance of doctrinal diversity in the realm of eucharistic theology may be greatly exaggerated.
We ought to insist first of all, as a general principle, on the efficicacy of teh sacraments in various Church communities. But can we adopt such a principle as our guiding line? Or are sacraments, generally speaking, ineffective beyond the canonical limits of a Church organization, to be regarded only as devout customs, or according to the blasphemous opinion of some as "sacraments of the demons?" The latter opinion is the child of confessional fanaticism that can never be confirmed by theological arguments, and is on the contrary in direct contradiction to the true mind of the Church. One might also add that a mere recognition of teh power of teh sacraments outside Orthodoxy is sufficient, for such a reduction of the question merely to that of their subjective effectiveness (ex opere operantis) evades a direct answer to the question as to their objective value (ex opere operato). It undoubtedly holds that, in the absence of canonical Church fellowship, the sacraments celebrated outside the canonical limits of a given Church organization -- canonically and practically, as it were -- cease to exist. But does this canonical ineffectiveness (nonefficitas) imply their mystical invalidity (nonvaliditas)? Does it mean that on being separated canincally, and in acertain measure dogmatically also, we find that we are separated from our mysterious unity and fellowship in Christ and in the gifts of the Holy Spirit? Has Christ been really divided in us, or are the non-Orthodox thereby no longer "in Christ," being estranged from his Body? One ought to think deeply before answering this question, which is perhaps the most essential for us in our relations with the non-Orthodox. This question falls into two parts: the significance of canonical divisions and that of dogmatic divisions, in relation to effectiveness of sacraments.
The first question is answered by stating that canonical divisions (raskol) only prevent the possibility of a direct and unmediated communion in the sacraments and do not destroy their efficacy. The invisible fellowship therefore of those who have been separated is not broken. This constitutes great joy and consolation when we are faced with the sad and sinful fact of canonical divisions in the Church. We ought to consider that although we are canonically divided from the Roman Catholic Church, we never ceases to remain with it in an invisible sacramental communion (ex opere operato) so to speak. Generally speaking, if one wanted to be consistent in denying the efficacy of the sacraments on a canonical basis, one could only do it by accepting the Roman Catholic teaching on the supremacy of the Pope and obedience to his jurisdiction as an essential condition of belonging to the Church. However such a deduction is not made even by the Roman Catholic Church, which admits the effectiveness of sacraments in Orthodoxy. The Romanizing tendency in Orthodoxy sometimes goes further than Rome in this direction, conditioning the effectiveness of sacraments by canonical stipulations, though theologically such a point of view cannot be supported. Conversely, one could say that teh divided parts of the Church, at least where apostolic succession exists, are in an invisible, mysterious communion with one another through visible sacraments, although these are mutually inaccessible.
Now let us consider to what extent a digression from dogmatic teaching can destroy the efficacy of teh sacrament. We ought to mention here, first of all, the cases where damage affects not separate sacraments but their celebrants. We speak here of Protestantism, where, through the destruction of a rightly ordained priesthood through grace, teh question of te actual efficicy of the sacrament is raised in spite of its full recognition in principle. Can one speak of "sacraments" in Protestantism? Fortunately there are grounds for answering this question not only in the negative. The basis of the answer lies in the fact that the Orthodox Church recognizes the efficacy of Protestant baptism, which is evident from the fact that it does not re-baptize Protestants who join it. This admission is of extraordinary significance. It testifies to tha fact that, at least in regard to the sacrament of spiritual birth in the Church, we abide in fellowship with Protestant Christians as members of the One Body of Christ. Baptism also contains within itself the general possibility of a mysterious life in the Church; in this sense it is the potential of all future sacraments. In Protestantism there is only a partial existence, both because of the diminution of the number of sacraments, and especially, through the absence of priesthood. But even so, does this allow us to draw any conclusions as to the complete inefficacy of sacramental life in Protestantism, in particular, for example, regarding Holy Communion? Strictly speaking we have no right to come to such a conclusion, and not only because of the subjective basis pointed out by Bishop Theophanes, but also because of the objective principle of a sacrament, according to which the sacrament belongs to the entire Church -- although it is realized through the priesthood by virtue of its inevitable participation. There is no such priesthood in Protestantism, but the people of the Church -- the "royal priesthood" -- remain there and the potential power of of Holy Baptism is fulfilled and revealed there in other ways, in certain devout rites and prayers instead of in effective sacraments. But if these are ineffective, can we say they are nothing? One cannot say this, for the priesthood is not a magical apparatus for the celebration of the sacraments, but a ministration of the Church that exists in the Church and for the Church. Therefore we ought to interpret Theophanes' expression "according to their faith it shall be given them" in the sense that our Lord does not deprive this flock of His grace, although it has been separated from the fulness of Church life. Nevertheless we can speak of communion in sacraments (apart from baptism) in relation to Protestants only in the general and indefinite sense of their participation in the life of the Church through grace, but of nothing beyond this. A more direct and true communion in the sacraments with the Protestant world is hindered by the absecne of a rightly ordained priesthood: this is the threshold over which Protestantism must pass, the reestablishment of an apostolically ordained hierarchy.
These barriers do not exist, however, for those sections of the divided Church that have retained this succession and have therefore a correctly ordained priesthood. Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism belong to this category, together with the ancient Eastern Churches (as well as the Episcopal Church in Protestantism and Anglicanism*, particularly in the case of a positive solution of the question of Anglican ordination). The priesthoods of Roman Catholicismand Orthodoxy are mutually uncanonical owing to the existing schism, but this does not prevent their mutual recognition of each other. The following conclusion, of the utmost importance, follows from this: Churches that have preserved their priesthood, although they happen to be separated, are not actually divided in their sacramental life. Strictly speaking, a reunion of the Church is not even necessary here, although generally this is hardly realized. The Churches that have preserved such a unity in sacraments are now divided canonically in the sense of jurisdiction, and dogmatically, through a whole range of differences; but these are powerless to destroy the efficacy of the sacraments.
What is required for a complete reunion, and where do we start? The predominant formula runs: sacramental fellowship must be preceded by a preliminary dogmatic agreement. But is this axiom so indisputable as it appears? Here on one scale of the balance we have a difference in certain Christian dogmas and teological opinions, and an estrangement that has been formed through centuries; on the other we have the unity in sacramental life. May it not be that a unity in the sacrament will be the only way toward overcoming this difference? Why should we not seek to surmount a heresy in teaching through superseding a heresy of life, such as division? May it not be that Christians sin now by not heeding the common eucharistic call? And, if this siiso, then for Orthodoxy and Rome there still remains a way to their reunion on the basis of a fellowship in sacraments.
Of course, the Holy Spirit alone can make it clear that reunion is not far away, but already exists as a fact that only needs to be realized. But it must be realized sincerely and honestly for the sole purpose of expressing our brotherhood in the Lord. And the way towatrd reunion of the East and West does not lie through tournaments bnetween theologians of the East and West, but throigh a reunion before the altar. The priesthood, celebrating the one Eucharist; if the minds of the priests could become aflame with this idea, all barriers would fall. For in response to this, dogmatic unity will be achieved, or rather, a mutual understading of one another in our distinctive features. In necessaris unitas, in dubiis libertas, in omnibus caritas -- "In what is necessary unity, in what is of lesser importance freedom, in all things love."
A realization of our unity as something given, and at the same time, of our disunity as a fact that we cannot ignore is present, is a vital antithesis in the soul of the modern Christian. This antinomy cannot leave him in peace. He cannot remain indifferent to it, for he must seek its resolution. The ecumenical movement of today** is the expression of this search.
* Fr. Sergius is speaking of Anglicanism prior to the ordination of women and of the Episcopal Church prior to the ordination of an active homosexual Bishop. These acts are serious breaches in their hierarchy and have invalidated the Anglican-Episcopal hierarchy at least in part and perhaps as a whole. The ecclesial relations between Orthodoxy and these Churches has been damaged accordingly. Perhaps beyond healing.
** Today is 1933. Fr. Sergius observations need to be qualified in the present situation.
Prof. Gavrilyuk, an Eastern
Orthodox theologian, opens the article by affirming that Fr. Bulgakov 'is a
towering figure on the horizon of the twentieth century Eastern Orthodox
theology.' The silence around Fr. Bulgakov has been broken and many aspects
of his thought are being discussed and reflected upon today as his works become
available in English (mostly due to the excellent work of Boris Jakim). Yet the
eschatological vision of Fr. Bulgakov has not received any attention in the
recent Bulgakov-revival. Gavrilyuk intends to rectify the situation.
The background of Bulgakovian Eschatology
He traces Fr. Bulgakov's eschatological thought back to the young child whose
father was a priest at a little cemetary Church. The confrontation with death is
one thing influencing Fr. Bulgakov's eschatological thought. After losing and
regaining his faith, Bulgakov exposes 'chiliastic aspirations in the
socialist project aimed at building the just kingdom of man on earth' as
Gavrilyuk puts it. That is Marxism is a religious apocalypticism that would
tragically deify the state and project a messianic role onto the proletariat. He
lived to see his predictions come true. At this point Bulgakov finds a mentor in
the martyr-theologian Fr. Pavel Florensky, whose influence on Bulgakov will
prove to be profound for the development of Fr. Bulgakov's eschatology, an
eschatology 'unmatched in its breadth by any other Russian religious thinker.'
Fr. Bulgakov and Patristic Eschatology
Patristic eschatology, Fr. Bulgakov observes, takes two opposing directions. A
majority of patristic sources oppose universal salvation, and a minority of
sources espouse a doctrine of universal salvation along the lines of Origen of
Alexandria and St. Gregory of Nyssa. Fr. Bulgakov seeks to disassociate his
eschatological thought from 'Vulgar Origenism' and to ground it in St.
Gregory of Nyssa rather than Origen. In the absence of a conciliar definition
the subject of eschatology, so says Fr. Bulgakov, belongs to the realm 'of
more or less authoritative patristic opinions.' In the area of theology,
and thus implicitly eschatology, Fr. Bulgakov was self-taught and deeply
erudite, even if his prose can sometimes 'gave way to flights of fancy and
belletristic digressions' writes Gavrilyuk. Nevertheless the 'breadth
of his vision far surpassed the canons of academic theology of his time.'
Select Aspects of Bulgakovian Eschatology
The first aspect Gavrilyuk highlights is the particular shift in Fr. Bulgakov's
eschatology 'a terminological shift in eschatology from predominantly
forensic to ontological categories.' Which means that the eschaton is first
and foremost the completion of creation and only secondarily its judgment. An
exegetical move much more in line with patristic thought than Fr. Bulgakov had
realized, so says Gavrilyuk. Fr. Bulgakov's eschatological thought is treated
most fully in his The Bride of the Lamb though a significant part of this book
treating this subject (Apokatastasis and Transfiguration) has been
translated independently from the english version of the book. Both are by Boris
Jakim.
A second aspect is the synergism that charecterizes Fr. Bulgakov's thought. He
moves away from the view that the eschaton happens to mostly passive creatures,
this is to be seen in his view of the resurrection of the body so that 'individual
souls will cooperate with God in reconstituting their own bodies' expanding
upon the thought of St. Gregory of Nyssa that it is the soul which reconstitutes
the body. But this proces will also take place on the level of the integral Adam
so that 'the process of reconstitution of the body occurred not just in
every individual soul, but concurrently in the world soul' securing the
ontological and moral unity of humankind.
The resurrection will be general and permament for all. Yet Fr. Bulgakov 'speculated
that various groups of people would participate in the general resurrection
differently: the saintly figures would do so actively and willingly, while the
indifferent and the wicked souls would accept the resurrection as inevitable.'
Fr. Bulgakov also holds that the Parousia, the Judgment, and the General
Resurrection are not separate, consecutive events. They are one and the same
event.The trinitarian kenosis will find fulfillment in the temporal world, and
all will immediately recognize Christ as the Godman.
The judgment, according to Fr. Bulgakov, is not about the
application of general moral norms, but about the comparison that each
individual makes between his empirical identity and his true self. A true
self which is in the image of Christ. We have here a 'self-judgment, a deep
realization of what one could achieve with the help of Christ and what one has
failed to become.' It does not consist in an external application of divine
punishment. Yet this self-judgment should not be understood as a mere excercise
in subjectivity 'since the Holy Spirit opens the eyes of conscience,
enabling each person to see herself for what she really is and making the
comparison with the eternal image of herself unavoidable and intrinsically
convincing.' At this point Gavrilyuk quotes Fr. Bulgakov's own words,
inspired by St. Isaac the Syrian:
"The judgment of love consists of a
revolution in people’s hearts, in which, by the action of the Holy Spirit in the
resurrection, the eternal source of love for Christ is revealed together with
the torment caused by the failure to actualize this love in the life that has
passed."
There is no opposition between God's mercy and God's justice, for both these
attributes find their origin in God's love. Fr. Bulgakov here is following
through on the ideas of St. Isaac the Syrian and Dostoevsky's Elder Zosima: 'Dostoevsky’s
elder goes on to say that the person who despised God’s love in this life would
be incapable of loving God in the resurrection. The torment that such a person
would experience would be internal and spiritual, rather than external and
physical.' Fr. Bulgakov also stresses that suffering is purgative and
healing as did Origen and St. Gregory of Nyssa before him. In the eschaton the
progression in evil will be impossible. Only the progression in different kinds
of good will be possible. This, so argues Fr. Bulgakov, does not eliminate
freedom in that the freedom from evil is the greatest possible freedom.
Fr. Bulgakov on the arguments against an eternal Hell
Since the Scriptures tell us that God did not create death it seems reasonable
to suggest He did not create hell either. It is a byproduct of the angelic and
human fall in sin. Fr. Bulgakov, so says prof. Gavrilyuk, knew that the
Scriptures speak of hell as eternal, yet to him it was obvious that whatever
this eternity might be it could not be infinite duration in time. For
such eternity would have a beginning in time (after death), and it would also be
unduly cruel, and therefore unjust; which distorts the character of God.
Ascribing to Him the evils fallen human nature is capable off, but which the
Divine Nature is wholly incapable off. Eternity is also misunderstood when
viewed as impossibility of change, creaturely being is by its nature
capable of change. Prof. Gavrilyuk explains Fr. Bulgakov's interpretation: "the
adjective ‘eternal’ in the Johannine expression ‘eternal life’ indicates a
divine quality of the subject described." There must be an assymetry
between the eternity of eternal hell and eternal life, otherwise evil is eternal
with the eternity as is good. This would be to fall into dualism or manicheism.
Fr. Bulgakov follows the lead of St. Gregory of Nyssa that evil has no existence
of itself, it is a parasite of the good. Eternal progression to the good is
possible, eternal digression to evil is not for evil would unltimately
annihilate itself (since it exists only as a creaturely perversion and
is finite). To assert that even one rational creature will be eternally
lost, is to affirm the success of satanic evil over God, and is a satanic
blasphemy against God as Gavrilyuk quotes Fr. Bulgakov's words.
The ontological and moral unity of mankind also speaks against the possibility
of an eternal hell. There will be one humanity shared by those in hell
and those enjoying eternal life. Their unity prevents those enjoying eternal
life from ignoring those suffering in hell. If hell is indeed never-ending, the
compassionate suffering of those enjoying eternal life will also be without end.
Referring to 1 Cor. 3, 15 Fr. Bulgakov suggests that the separation between
sheep and goats (Gospel of Matthew) is internal and takes place inside all of
us. This leads to the after-death state to be a state of purgation by the fires
of hell (not purgatory). Fr. Bulgakov rejected the Roman Catholic
doctrine of purgatory as a third place he accepted the fact of
purgation after death and saw an affinity with the Roman Catholic doctrine
and Orthodox doctrine in their both praying for the dead. In a sense, hell is a
universal purgatory. Even satan and his fallen angels are subject to
God's mercy and will be restored into their original union with God. Satan is
always conscious of himself as a creature and is torn internally between his
false pretenses to being the prince of this world and his creaturely angelic
nature which is impossible for him to deny and to not be conscious off. Prof.
Gavrilyuk writes: "Bulgakov’s reply was that after Satan’s expulsion from
the world his resources were bound to be exhausted by this internal
contradiction; the prince of darkness would give in to the power of divine love
in the end." A theme some might be familiar with from Dostoevsky's novel
Crime and Punishment where the murderer Rodion Raskolnikov turns himself in
under pressure of his being internally torn by a guilty conscience. Prof.
Gavrilyuk writes: "Bulgakov followed Dostoevsky and the Origenist tradition
in going beyond the retributive function of punishment and emphasizing the
purgative value of suffering."
Gavrilyuk's Critique of Fr. Bulgakov's Eschatology
The first piece of critique is that "Bulgakov was certainly wrong to
reduce the mystery of divine forgiveness to mere ignorance or indifference to
evil." Prof. Gavrilyuk proceeds to note that Fr. Bulgakov's version of
universalism deviates from that of Sts. Isaac the Syrian and Gregory of Nyssa in
"daring and original ways." To some extent Fr. Bulgakov expands in his
own way some ideas of Fr. Pavel Florensky on Gehenna (The Pillar and Ground
of the Truth). Prof. Gavrilyuk explains the unique character of Fr.
Bulgakov's eschatological universalism as follows:
"Because of its emphasis upon God as
the source and power of being and its methodological shift from juridical to
ontological categories, Bulgakov’s eschatology may be termed ontological
universalism."
It would seem that Fr. Bulgakov has transgressed his own warning not to fall
into dogmatic maximalism, that is dogmatizing unnecessarily. Where Nikolai
Berdiaev, Hans Urs von Balthasar, and Karl Rahner speculated on the salvation of
all, they did maintained what prof. Gavrilyuk calls epistemic modesty.
They have not made universalism a necessary constituent of their
eschatology but merely a possible one. In Fr. Bulgakov such epistemic modesty is
wholly absent. This is a vice in his eschatology rather than a virtue, because
it lacks support in the tradition of the Church and violates the principle of
apophaticism. Though rejecting the identification Berdiaev made between Fr.
Bulgakov's eschatological determinism and Marxist communist determinism (history
inevitably leads to a Communist triumph) Gavrilyuk writes: "in the final
analysis Bulgakov’s ontological universalism was strongly deterministic for his
scheme did not leave even a possibility for permanent and decisive creaturely
rejection of God." Specific points against ontological universalist
determinism:
1. The eternal resistance against God's will is no more paradoxical as is the
allowance of God of the first rejection of the Divine intent. Since God allowed
the first rejection of His will, He can allow the eternal rejection of his wil.
2. The knowledge of the good does not necessarily lead to conversion from evil
to good. Fr. Bulgakov postulates that the weakness of the will shall be removed
and only choices of different levels of good will be possible. But this seems to
be compulsion rather than freely willed self-determination.
3. Demonic knowledge of God at present is a particularly strong argument against
ontological universalism. Demons have no uncertainty concerning God's existence.
Yet they continue to reject God and work towards evil against God's intents and
purposes. Gavrilyuk writes: "Despite this knowledge, however, the demonic
revolt against God is more radical than that of humans. The demons are capable
of willing and doing evil for its own sake." Which he believes can only
lead to one conclusion: "The obstinacy that the fallen angels manifest in
this aeon makes their conversion in the age to come highly improbable without
the divine coercion."
4. Fr. Bulgakov's eschatological universalism makes human history irrelevant.
The beginning and end are set, so that it is entirely irrelevant what happens in
between the beginning and the end on the pathways of creaturely history. Prof.
Gavrilyuk writes: "The main issue, however, is whether human history, shaped
by human choices, has the ultimate impact upon human destiny? It seems that
Bulgakov’s Platonizing universalism, despite his protestations to the contrary,
offers a negative answer to this question. However, Bulgakov’s own synergism
requires quite the opposite answer: the outcome of the eschaton must be the
fulfillment, not the annulment of human history."
Yet prof. Gavrilyuk is not wholly dismissive of Fr. Bulgakov's eschatological
speculation. In a concluding thought he writes: "My objections
notwithstanding, it is undeniable that Bulgakov’s universalism, especially his
shift from juridical to ontological categories, from what he called ‘penal code
theory’ to the eschatology of participation in the life of God, opens a fresh
dimension that has not been sufficiently explored in the western accounts of
eschatology."