Patriarch Nikon #

The chief culprit of the Church schism in Russia was the Moscow Patriarch Nikon. He ascended the patriarchal throne in 1652. Even before his elevation to the patriarchate, he had grown close to Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich. Together, they conspired to remake the Russian Church in a new image: to introduce new services, rites, and books, so that it would resemble in all things the modern Greek Church of their time—a church that had long since ceased to be truly pious. Alexei Mikhailovich dreamed of becoming a Byzantine emperor, and Nikon of becoming an ecumenical patriarch. With these aims, they resolved to bring the Russian Church fully into alignment with the Greek Church¹.

Greek clerics, often coming to Moscow to beg alms and having themselves lost the purity of Orthodoxy, nevertheless persuaded Nikon and Tsar Alexei that the Russian Church was supposedly not fully Orthodox—that some of its rites were heretical and accursed, that its liturgical books were erroneous, and that even the Creed was corrupted in them and therefore should be condemned. The Greek Church, by contrast, was said to be entirely Orthodox and pious, and the Russian scribes, they claimed, were mistaken in thinking that the Greek Church had deviated from Orthodoxy and from the ancient Church traditions and customs².

Nikon, having set his mind to correcting the supposed errors and heresies of the Russian Church, had no formal education; he was not even particularly well-read or gifted with talents. He had learned only to read and write, and that imperfectly. Nevertheless, once he became Patriarch, he surrounded himself with learned Greeks. The most influential among them was Arseny the Greek. Nikon trusted him entirely in all matters. But this Greek was a man of highly questionable faith and dishonorable conduct. He had received his education in Rome from the Latin Jesuits. Upon returning east, he embraced Islam. Afterward, he returned to Christianity, but soon leaned toward Latinism. Arseny was unstable in Orthodoxy and ready at any moment to adopt whatever faith was advantageous to him. While in Islam, he even underwent circumcision.

When he arrived in Russia during the patriarchate of Joseph, Nikon’s predecessor, the ecclesiastical authorities sent him to the Solovki Monastery “under obedience” as a dangerous apostate, so that his faith might be corrected. It was from there that Nikon took him and immediately made him his chief advisor and assistant in Church affairs. This caused great scandal and murmuring among the faithful Russian people: they began to say that “a Muslim is ruling over the holy things of the Church.” But no one could contradict Nikon. The Tsar had granted him unlimited authority and excessive power in all things. Encouraged and supported by the Tsar, Nikon did whatever he pleased, consulting no one. Relying on his friendship with the Tsar and the power of the throne, he undertook his Church reform (the reorganization of the Church) with boldness and audacity.

Nikon’s character was harsh and obstinate. One foreigner who came to Russia during Nikon’s tenure testified that as soon as he obtained patriarchal power, everyone feared him. He carried himself with pride and aloofness. Toward fellow bishops he behaved haughtily, refusing to call them his brothers. He grievously humiliated and persecuted the rest of the clergy—so much so that the prisons were filled with clergy who had somehow incurred the wrath of this severe and angry patriarch. All trembled before Nikon. He even tortured his own spiritual father, keeping him chained in a basement, tormenting him with hunger and beatings. Among the people, Nikon was called a wolf and a savage beast. He himself adopted titles in the fashion of the Roman popes, styling himself “supreme hierarch” and “father of fathers.” He even titled himself “Great Sovereign,” and sought to seize state authority into his own hands. Nikon loved wealth and luxury. After the Tsar, he was the richest man in Russia, annually collecting more than 700,000 rubles in income (equivalent to vast sums of money today).

It is clear that from such a cruel, reckless, and avaricious patriarch, one could hardly expect calm or edifying labors for the good of the Church. It was a great misfortune for the whole nation that such a proud and poorly educated despot of the moment should have stood at the head of the Church³.

The Correction of Liturgical Books #

In ancient times, before printing presses existed, books were copied by hand. In Russia, liturgical books were transcribed in monasteries and episcopal residences by specially trained scribes. This craft, like icon painting, was considered sacred. For that reason, it was carried out diligently and reverently. The Russian people loved books and preserved them as holy objects. Even a minor scribal error or oversight was considered a serious fault. This is why the many manuscripts that have come down to us from former times are distinguished by the cleanliness, beauty, and precision of their script, as well as the accuracy and clarity of their text⁴. It is rare to find corrections or strikethroughs in ancient manuscripts. With such extraordinary care taken to preserve the text, only accidental errors or oversights could occur. A hundred years before Nikon, in 1551, a council of Russian hierarchs convened in Moscow, known as the Stoglav Council (which issued one hundred chapters of decrees)⁵. It addressed the state of liturgical books and noted that any irregularities found in them concerned only punctuation marks or minor omissions and scribal errors. The council took measures to eliminate even such small flaws from the books. One may confidently assert that old manuscripts contain far fewer errors than modern printed books do misprints.

The few deficiencies found in earlier books were corrected during the patriarchal period when a printing press was already active in Moscow. At that time, book correction was carried out with great caution. When during the patriarchate of Filaret (1619–1633) it was discovered that there was a superfluous word (“and fire”) in the rite of the blessing of water in the Trebnik (the service book for sacraments and rites), it was not removed until a synodal review was held and numerous ancient Russian and Greek manuscripts were consulted. Such was the extraordinary reverence with which the Russian Church authorities and their flock approached the task of correcting the books.

Things took a very different course under Patriarch Nikon. First, the correction was entrusted to Greeks, even to someone like Arseny, who had converted to Islam, denied Christ and the Christian faith. He became the chief corrector. Second, Nikon undertook the book revision through deceit and forgery. In 1654, he convened a council in Moscow, which resolved that Russian liturgical books should be corrected based solely on ancient Russian and ancient Greek manuscripts. But in practice, Nikon’s editors began correcting Russian liturgical books according to recent Greek editions printed in Jesuit presses in Venice and Paris. These books were regarded as corrupt and erroneous even by the Greeks themselves.

At that time, Arseny Sukhanov (builder of the Trinity Epiphany Monastery in Moscow) had brought back around 500 books from the East. But these were not used in the correction process. Most of them were secular in content—works of pagan authors, Greek philosophers, various fables, tales, and the like. All these books have survived to this day⁶.

Although Nikon proclaimed that our Moscow books were full of errors that even corrupted the faith, he was unable to identify a single doctrinal fault, not even a typo or scribal error. Where the old books printed the word church (tserkov’), the new ones substituted temple (khram); where they said temple, the new ones wrote church. Where the old books said lads (otrotsy), the new said children (deti), and vice versa. Cross (krest) was changed to wood (drevo), and so on. Defenders of the old books were baffled, asking, “How is this better than what was there before?”

The Nikonian editors were not correcting mistakes, typos, or any actual deficiencies in the old books. Rather, they were excising age-old rites, customs, and traditions of the ancient universal Church—some of which were of dogmatic significance. In the old books, the word Alleluia was said twice, followed by Glory to Thee, O God the third time. Nikon’s editors added one more Alleluia. Yet the double Alleluia had been received by the Russian Church from ancient times; in deep antiquity, even the Greek Church said Alleluia twice. This was not a misprint in the books—still less an error—but a decree of the ancient holy Church. The triple Alleluia with the addition of Glory to Thee, O God—effectively a quadruple chant—had been condemned by the ancient Russian Church and by the Greeks themselves, such as St. Maximus the Greek and the assembly of Russian hierarchs at the Stoglav Council, as a Latin custom founded upon the doctrinal error of the Latin Church concerning the procession of the Holy Spirit from the Son as well.

According to the old books, the Divine Liturgy was to be celebrated using seven prosphora (loaves); the Nikonian revisers removed two of them. Yet this use of seven prosphora existed in the Greek Church itself even before the Baptism of Rus’ and was inherited from there⁷. Thus, Nikon abolished an ancient Church institution.

In the old books, the name of Christ the Savior was always written and pronounced as Isus. The Nikonian revisers changed this everywhere to the modern Greek form Iisus. But Russians are not Greeks—they are Slavs—and they should say and write Isus⁸. The Serbs and Montenegrins still print Isus in their liturgical books to this day⁹.

According to the old printed books, it was established that during baptism, crowning (wedding), and the consecration of a church, the processions should be done sunwise (clockwise), as a sign that we are following the Sun—Christ, as even the bishops of the state Church came to interpret this symbol. The Nikonian revisers introduced everywhere the opposite: walking against the sun—against Christ.

The eighth article of the Creed, in the old text, reads: “And in the Holy Spirit, the True Lord and Giver of life.” In the Nikonian books, the word “True” (Istinnago) was removed as supposedly superfluous and therefore erroneous. However, the Greek word in this place in the [Greek text]¹⁰—to kyrion—means both “Lordly” and “True” (i.e., “the True Lord”). And the logic of the Creed itself demands that the Holy Spirit be confessed as True, just as God the Father and God the Son are confessed as True (in the second article: “Light of Light, True God of True God”)¹¹.

All of these and numerous other examples of revisions demonstrate that Nikon and his editors were not correcting typos or minor errors in the old books, but were eliminating age-old customs and institutions of the ancient Church—some of which were even dogmatic in nature. They could not find anything ignorant or unlearned in our old printed books. But they themselves introduced not a few errors and even heresies into the new ones.

Errors in the New Books #

There are an extraordinary number of these errors—numbered in the hundreds. We will indicate only a few.

In the rite of baptism, according to the old books, the priest reads: “The Lord our Isus Christ, who came into the world and dwelt among men, forbids thee, O devil.” Here it is clear and grammatically correct that it is the Lord who forbids the devil—He who came into the world and dwelt among men, as He Himself says: “Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world” (Matthew 28:20). But how did the Nikonian revisers “correct” this passage? They changed it to: “The Lord, who came into the world and dwelt among men, forbids you, O devil.” They distorted the meaning of the text: now it appears that it is the devil who came into the world and dwelt among men.

In the same baptismal rite, according to the old books, the priest prays to the Lord: “We pray Thee, O Lord, let not the evil spirit descend upon the one being baptized.” In the Nikonian books, this is rendered: “Let not the evil spirit descend with the one being baptized, we pray Thee.” The Nikonian revisers reworded it in such a way that it seems the priest is praying to the devil¹².

In the old books, during the sacrament of baptism, the priest prays: “Impress Thy Christ upon the one who wishes to be born again through holy baptism from my unworthiness.” The one being baptized is born into new life through baptism—that is why it is called the “laver of regeneration”—even if performed by an unworthy priest. In the Nikonian books, the phrase is “corrected” to: “…to be born again by my wretchedness.” The meaning changes: now the person is born not by holy baptism, but by the wretchedness of the priest.

In the rite of the blessing of water at Theophany, the Nikonian revisers inserted into the litany a strange petition: “…that this water may leap into eternal life.” Instead of asking the Lord that the water, by its grace-filled sanctification, may lead us into eternal life, the new books ask that the water itself may leap into eternal life. What is it doing there? And even the word “leaping” is hardly fitting for a liturgical book; applied to water, it becomes almost absurd.

The Nikonian editors introduced many such senseless “corrections.” “They ruined all the books,” the pious people of that time complained.

In the prayer read during Great Lent, “O Lord and Master of my life,” according to the old books we pray: “…take from me the spirit of despondency, negligence, love of money, and idle talk.” Take from me—that is, cast away, drive away, cast it far from me. We humbly confess before God that we possess all these sins: despondency, idle talk, greed, carelessness—and we ask the Lord to deliver us from them, to drive away the very spirit of these vices¹³. But in the new books, this prayer takes on a completely different meaning. There it reads: “Give me not the spirit of idleness, despondency, love of authority, and idle talk.” Here the one praying does not confess his sins, he does not ask to be purified of them—this petition is completely absent. Instead, he merely asks God not to give him the spirit of these vices, as if it were God who imposes this evil tempter upon him¹⁴. It is no longer a penitential prayer.

The Nikonian revisers even altered the Cherubic Hymn in the Divine Liturgy: instead of “bringing the thrice-holy hymn,” they wrote “singing along.” Yet the entire liturgy is precisely an offering: the priest repeatedly says in his prayers that the thrice-holy hymn is being offered, not sung along to or appended. “We offer unto Thee this reasonable service,” the priest reads in the liturgical prayers. The deacon proclaims: “In humility let us offer.” The people respond that they too offer their hymn. Replacing the liturgical term bringing (prinosyasche), which conveys the deep and mystical sense of the liturgy, with the new term singing along (pripevayushche), the Nikonian revisers committed a sacrilege, turning the very heart of the liturgy—the Cherubic Hymn—into a sort of chorus, a musical interlude.

They also altered another part of the Cherubic Hymn, printing: “…invisibly brought forth by the ranks of angels,” and in the commentary explaining it as: “by spear-bearing ranks and with the spear being conducted.” Even at the time, this correction caused great bewilderment. “Isus Christ, the Son of God,” opponents of the Nikonian changes said, “receives an offering from the ranks of angels—not spears and not a procession with spears.” The new synodal book The Rod (Zhezl) attempts to clarify this by saying: “Do not think of spears as physical weapons, but as intelligible things, that is, the power which divides iniquity”¹⁵. But this explanation is even more obscure than the original confused text it seeks to explain. The old Cherubic Hymn was clear and understandable to all the faithful: daronosima—the angelic ranks themselves bear the Gifts—the very Christ. This clarity was replaced by the Nikonian editors with some mention of spears, and some “dividing power of iniquity.” It is unintelligible and nonsensical.

The very ending of the Cherubic Hymn was also changed by Nikon’s revisers; in the old version, it is sung: “let us cast off all sorrow.” They printed: “let us lay aside all care.” The firm, decisive, categorical cast off was replaced with the milder, weaker lay aside—as if for Christ one may set something aside for a while, just for this moment. Why must we do something so resolute for Christ—cast off all worldly concerns? It is enough, apparently, just to lay them aside temporarily. But it is Christ Himself who commands: “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross” (Matthew 16:24). And since we cannot do this, the new scribes inserted their own weakness even into the Cherubic Hymn. In it is expressed that lukewarm religiosity which had already firmly taken root among the Moscow elites, and which later turned into outright sacrilege and open unbelief and godlessness.

Nikon’s editors committed so many blunders in the new books—so many incoherent and absurd ones—that it gave rise to the saying that Nikon instructed his chief editor Arseny the Greek: “Edit, Arseny, however you like, just not the old way.”

Over the course of the following centuries, down to our own time, the Nikonian books have been revised and altered more than once. But they have not become any more accurate as a result. The old errors were retained and new ones added. Here are a few more examples of errors found in the new books.

In the Kondakion for the Dormition of the God-bearer, the old reading was: “… the tomb and death could not hold” the God-bearer. In the new version it is changed to: “… the tomb and slaying.” This is already a different meaning: slaying is not mere death, but violent death—strangling, murder, execution. According to the new text, someone “slew” the Mother of God.

In the dogmatic Bogorodichen of the Fourth Tone, “Grant consolation,” the old books sing: “… the Lamb found as prey of the wolf” (i.e., Jesus Christ). This matches reality: it is indeed wolves who snatch lambs. In the new books it reads: “… the Lamb was taken by the mountain.” So now the blame for the lamb’s capture falls on the mountain—an obvious absurdity. And considering that in this dogmatic hymn the “wolf” clearly refers to the devil—as he is also called in the Scriptures—then it becomes rather suspicious why the new editors felt the need to exonerate this “wolf” and shift the blame onto inanimate mountains[^18].

It is curious that Orthodox interpreters of Church hymns find it necessary to explain the word gorokhishchnoe as meaning “carried off by the mountains,” as if mountains were actually engaged in thievery (Herald of the Russian Christian Movement, 1935, nos. 4–5, p. 18). The old text is perfectly clear without any explanation. It is also worth noting that even the conciliar book The Rod uses the phrase “wolves that plunder sheep” (volki ovtsyekhishchnyye), not “mountains that plunder sheep” (gory ovtsyekhishchnyye) (Preface, leaf 2).

In the fourth irmos of the Fourth Tone, “He who sits in glory,” the old version sings: “Isus the All-divine came forth from the Most Pure Virgin.” In the new books, instead of “Virgin” is printed: “from the incorrupt hand.” It is hard to understand what prompted this “correction”—there is nothing poetic or meaningful in replacing “Virgin” with “hand.”

The greeting to the Mother of God: “Rejoice, O Virgin God-bearer, Mary Full of Grace,” in the old books ends: “… for thou hast borne Christ the Savior, the Redeemer of our souls.” Clear and correct. In the new corrected version it reads: “… for thou hast borne the Savior of our souls”—“thou hast borne […] our souls.” Incoherent and obscure¹⁶.

Nikon’s editors left no liturgical book untouched. All the services of the Church were either shortened, distorted, or stripped of their most important prayers and invocations. The rite of confession, for example, was shortened—from 40 folios to 4. In the rite of chrismation, according to the old Trebnik, during the anointing with myrrh, after the proclamation: “The seal of the gift of the Holy Spirit, Amen,” the priest also proclaims (for instance, when anointing the face): “That with unveiled face he may behold the glory of the Lord.” When anointing the eyes: “That with his eyes he may behold the light of the Holy Trinity—the archetype of all goodness,” and so forth. Such exclamations are also found in the mystagogical catecheses of St. Cyril of Jerusalem, who lived in the fourth century. The Nikonian editors expunged all these exclamations from the Trebnik. From the rite of anointing with oil (at unction), they even removed the refrains: “Hear us, O Lord; hear us, O Master; hear us, O Holy One,” which form a collective prayer to God by all who are praying for the sick and are a particular spiritual beauty of the rite of unction. It was quite just that the pious pastors of that time complained of the Nikonian editors: “As cats skitter over the milk-jars, so do these modern revisers flit about the books and, like mice, gnaw away at the Divine Scriptures”¹⁷.

Let us give at least one example of a “correction” by the Nikonians even of the Holy Gospel. Already in his time, St. Maximus the Greek, and later St. Dionisy, archimandrite of the Trinity-Sergius Lavra, pointed out that in certain manuscripts the following passage from John 5 was incorrectly read: “And [the Father] gave Him (the Son) authority to execute judgment, because He is the Son of Man.” With such punctuation, this text was used by Paul of Samosata, a heretic of the third century, as attested by St. John Chrysostom and Blessed Theophylact of Bulgaria. The Nikonian editors printed the verse in just this heretical way. But according to St. Maximus the Greek, in the original Greek Gospel, there is a period after “to execute judgment.” The following words, “Because He is the Son of Man,” begin a new sentence: “Marvel not at this…” Thus is the text rendered in the patriarchal, pre-Nikonian books.

In this brief history there is no space to list all the errors of the Nikonian books. We may conclude our review of Nikonian revisions with the words of our ancestors who denounced these books: “For it is not possible (even if we should wish) to enumerate in full all the innovations, alterations, omissions, and transpositions of verses, tropars, and texts which the new-printed books contain in comparison with the old-printed ones; this has multiplied so much that, from that time of correction, a saying spread among the people regarding the editors: ‘Let it be however it may—just not like it was before.’”¹⁸

All of the above examples of “corrections,” and many others of like nature, prove that this was not true correction at all, but rather shameless and brazen mischief—mockery and blasphemy against the holy books and the centuries-old faith and piety of the Russian people. It is completely natural and lawful that the entire Russian people—that is, the whole holy Church and all her pious clergy—protested against such literary “correction” and declared it heretical.

Curses Against Ancient Church Traditions #

Nikon began his reforms not with the correction of books, but with the abolition of the two-finger sign of the Cross. At that time, the entire Russian Church made the sign of the Cross using two fingers: three fingers (the thumb and last two) were folded in the name of the Holy Trinity, and two (the index and middle) were extended in the name of the two natures of Christ—divine and human. This finger configuration and the confession it expressed were taught by the ancient Greek Church as well. The two-finger method (dvoeperstie) dates from apostolic times. The Holy Fathers of the Church testify that even Christ Himself blessed using this finger arrangement¹⁹. But Nikon issued a decree as early as 1653. This decree was illegal and criminal. At the same time, he ordered the use of the three-finger (triperstie) sign: the first three fingers folded in the name of the Holy Trinity, and the last two to remain “idle,” meaning they represented nothing. The three-finger sign was a novelty. It had only recently appeared among the Greeks and was brought to Russia by them. Not a single Holy Father nor any ancient council bears witness to the use of the triperstie. For this reason, the Russian people did not wish to accept it. Moreover, under Nikon’s explanation, the two natures of Christ—divine and human—were not symbolized in it. And it seemed questionable to mark oneself with the Cross in the name of the Holy Trinity without confessing therein the human nature of Christ, which was precisely what was crucified on the Cross. It gave the impression that the Holy Trinity itself was crucified, not the humanity of Christ. But Nikon disregarded all objections. He pressed forward ruthlessly.

Taking advantage of the arrival in Moscow of Patriarch Macarius of Antioch and other Eastern hierarchs, Nikon proposed they make a statement on the finger-sign, having of course come to an agreement with them beforehand. They wrote the following: “We received the tradition from the beginning of the faith, from the holy apostles and the holy fathers and the seven holy councils, to make the sign of the precious Cross with the three first fingers of the right hand. And whoever among the Orthodox Christians does not make the Cross in this way, according to the tradition of the Eastern Church, which it has held from the beginning of the faith to this very day, is a heretic and imitator of the Armenians. And for this reason, we have him cut off from the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, and anathematized.” This condemnation was first solemnly proclaimed in the Dormition Cathedral in Moscow in the presence of a great crowd; then it was set down in writing and published by Nikon in the book The Tablet (Skrizhal’), officially confirmed by council²⁰.

These irrational and soul-destroying curses and excommunications struck the Russian people like thunder. To everyone it was obvious that Nikon and the Eastern hierarchs had cursed the entire Russian Church, all her hierarchs and wonderworkers who had made the sign of the Cross with two fingers. According to the judgment of Nikon and the visiting Greeks, the entire Russian land was heretical, Armenian, and cursed, because everyone—starting with the bishops and noblemen and ending with the common beggar—had crossed themselves with two fingers. The pious Russian people—or more accurately, the entire Russian Church—could not accept such a flagrantly unlawful condemnation, proclaimed by Nikon and his like-minded Greek bishops, especially since they were plainly lying in saying that the apostles and the Holy Fathers had established the three-finger sign²¹.

But Nikon did not stop with this one anathema. In his published Tablet, he added further condemnations of the two-fingered sign of the Cross. There he condemned the two-finger form as supposedly containing the heresies and impieties of ancient heretics condemned by the Ecumenical Councils: Arians, Macedonians, and Nestorians.

In the Tablet, even Orthodox Christians were anathematized for reading—and therefore confessing in the Creed—that the Holy Spirit is true. In essence, Nikon and his collaborators cursed and anathematized the entire Russian Church not for heresies or errors, but for a fully Orthodox confession of faith and for ancient ecclesiastical traditions. They cursed both the confession and the very traditions themselves²². These actions of Nikon and his allies rendered them, in the eyes of the entire pious Russian people, heretics and apostates from the Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church. And so they truly became.

Opponents and Accusers of Nikon #

Nikon’s very first order abolishing the two-finger sign and introducing the three-finger sign met with strong resistance and denunciation from the clergy of Moscow. At that time, Moscow was blessed with remarkable pastors such as Protopresbyter Ioann Neronov, who served in the Kazan Cathedral on Red Square; Avvakum from Yurievets on the Volga; Daniil from Kostroma; Login from Murom, and others. Leading them was Bishop Pavel of Kolomna. All these pastors were marked by extraordinary zeal for the welfare of the Church. Through their fervent preaching, holy labors, and good example, they sought to bring light, truth, and piety into every aspect of ecclesiastical and public life.

Even under Patriarch Joseph, Nikon’s predecessor, they had already shown great concern that church services be conducted reverently, zealously, and in good order; that the clergy fulfill their pastoral duties faithfully; that the people live soberly, honestly, and in a God-pleasing way. These pastors were greatly esteemed by the people, who revered them as holy men. Even Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich respected them. Protopresbyters Ioann Neronov and Avvakum were especially gifted orators: they could speak clearly, fervently, and with inspiration. The Tsar himself would come, along with his family, to hear Neronov’s sermons at the Kazan Cathedral. These renowned preacher-pastors also stood out for their fearlessness in telling the truth to powerful and influential people, exposing their sins and crimes. They were disinterested, straightforward, and honest shepherds. They cared nothing for personal gain, serving the Church and God with full devotion and sincere, burning love, always ready to suffer and even be martyred for Christ’s cause, for God’s truth.

Some of them had already endured terrible suffering at the hands of wicked and powerful men whom they had rebuked for their evil deeds. Such pastors were not afraid of Nikon, with all his immense power and fierce temper. They boldly rose up to denounce him and his actions.

Upon receiving Nikon’s aforementioned first decree concerning the three-finger sign, they immediately gathered to discuss it and began with prayer. Ioann Neronov withdrew for a full week into the Chudov Monastery in the Moscow Kremlin and there, weeping, prayed to the Lord to reveal to him what awaited the Church of God. During his prayer, he truly heard a voice from the holy icon: “The time of suffering draws near; you must suffer steadfastly.” Fr. Ioann reported this to all his brethren²³. After that, they were even more inspired. The named pastors composed a thorough denunciation of Nikon’s decree. With numerous references to the ancient Holy Fathers, the canons of the Ecumenical Councils, and the old books, they demonstrated that the whole ancient Holy Church had made the sign of the Cross with two fingers, and that the two-finger gesture fully expressed the Orthodox confession of the Holy Trinity and the two natures of Christ—divine and human. It was senseless and criminal to abolish this sacred tradition.

The Most Authoritative Testimony: The Stoglav Council #

The most authoritative and incontrovertible decision for the entire Church was that of the famous Stoglav Council²⁴, held one hundred years before Nikon, in 1551, in Moscow under the presidency of Metropolitan Macarius of Moscow and All Rus’—a hierarch described by the academic historian E. E. Golubinsky as intelligent, enlightened, and of the utmost antiquity-loving spirit, “the most illustrious of the illustrious archpastors.” Participating in the council were the great hierarchs Guriy and Varsonofy, wonderworkers of Kazan, as well as the renowned Saint Philip, wonderworker of Moscow, and other celebrated archpastors and pastors of the entire Russian Church.

The Council decreed: “If anyone does not make the sign of the Cross or give a blessing with two fingers, as Jesus Christ did, let him be anathematized” (chapter 31 of the Council). For the Council, as for the entire Church, there was no doubt that this was the blessing of Christ. The Council issued what was in essence a ready-made decision already found in the Greek Kormchaya (Book of Canons) of the ancient Eastern Church²⁵ and in the rite for receiving the Jacobite heretics, which had been translated into Church Slavonic and later included in the Trebnik of Patriarch Filaret of Moscow, confirmed by the Moscow Council of 1620.

The Stoglav Council also referred to the ancient Eastern Fathers—Blessed Theodoret, Bishop of Cyrrhus (6th c.), and Saint Meletius, Patriarch of Antioch (3rd–4th c.). Thus, by his arbitrary and audacious abolition of the two-finger sign of the Cross and of the blessing, Nikon fell under the anathemas not only of the entire ancient Russian Church but also of the whole ancient Eastern Church—and of Christ Himself.

The writing composed by the zealous pastors was submitted by them directly to the Tsar, who then handed it over to Nikon. But the proud patriarch did not heed the just rebuke from these fervent and pious confessors of the faith²⁶. He continued for a long time to place his trust in the flattering, hypocritical, and criminal Greeks surrounding him.

Martyrs and Sufferers for the Holy Faith #

The voice heard by Protopriest Ioann Neronov from the holy icon turned out to be truly prophetic. It foretold to the pastors the coming time of their sufferings and martyrdoms. That time came very soon. By Nikon’s order, the first to be arrested was Protopriest Login of Murom. He was handed over to a “cruel officer” to be tortured.

Another protopriest, Ioann Neronov himself, was first confined by Nikon’s orders in the Spassky Monastery in Moscow, then transferred to the Simonov Monastery, and from there to the Tsareborisov court. During the transfer, the horses were deliberately driven at a gallop to torment the elderly priest with the jolting of the cart. At the Borisov court, he was mercilessly beaten, chained by the neck like a dog, and finally exiled in shackles to the far north—Lake Kubenskoye in the Vologda region.

On his way into exile, Fr. Ioann called upon all Orthodox Christians to stand boldly in defense of the Holy Church, which Nikon was defiling and cursing. From exile, the suffering protopriest wrote remarkable letters denouncing Nikon and those around him. Neronov pleaded with the Tsar to convene a council of bishops, priests, and also laymen, to impartially and fully examine Nikon’s actions. In response to these letters and petitions, Nikon issued a decree to send the unbending elder even further north—to the Kandalaksha Monastery—and to keep him there in chains, without ink or paper, so that he could not write anything from his place of harsh imprisonment.

A similarly harsh fate befell Protopriest Daniil of Kostroma. Nikon had him arrested in Moscow near the Tver Gates, had his head forcibly shaved, stripped off his cassock, and had him tortured in the bakery of the Chudov Monastery. From there he was exiled to Astrakhan, where he was tortured to death in an underground prison.

At the same time, another Daniil, Protopriest of Temnikov, was arrested and “placed in the Spassky Monastery on the New.” In Moscow, the priest Mikhail was also imprisoned and “disappeared without a trace.”

But more than anyone, Protopriest Avvakum suffered. In Moscow, he lived in the house of Neronov. By Nikon’s order, the streltsy burst in and arrested him. Shackled in chains, Avvakum was taken to the Andronikov Monastery. There he was thrown into a dark dungeon, tormented with hunger, and abused: they dragged him by his chains, tore out his hair, punched him in the sides, and spat in his eyes. “God forgive them,” Avvakum said good-naturedly of his tormentors, “it was not their doing, but that of the wicked devil.” From Moscow, Protopriest Avvakum was exiled to Siberia: first to Tobolsk, then to Yeniseisk and Dauria. The great sufferer journeyed for ten years on this distant path, filled with deprivations, severe hardships, and unimaginable suffering. This long journey was truly a martyr’s ordeal. The steadfast pastor endured everything: hunger and cold, whips and jolts, tortures, and all manner of trials. “Oh, that time,” Avvakum recalled with a bitter sigh of that tormenting exile²⁷.

The named pastors were expelled from Moscow—and some tortured to death—during the very first year of Nikon’s activity: 1653. The following year, the same fate befell Bishop Pavel of Kolomna. That year, a council was held in Moscow under Nikon’s presidency on the matter of book correction. Bishop Pavel, a man of forthright and candid character, declared to Nikon at the council: “We will not accept a new faith.” Nikon, being of gigantic stature and great strength, personally beat Bishop Pavel then and there at the council, tore off his mantle, and immediately exiled him to the far north—to the Palaeostrov Monastery in the Olonets province.

There the suffering bishop was subjected to cruel torture on Nikon’s orders and was burned in a wooden hut, “like a loaf offered to God,” as his hagiography expresses it²⁸.

The terrible news of such an unprecedented fiery execution in Russia spread throughout the entire land. Everywhere people whispered in horror that the Patriarch’s throne in Moscow was occupied by a patriarch-tormentor, a hierarch-murderer. Nikon began his reforms not with the blessing of God but with curses and anathemas—not with churchly prayer, but with bloodshed and killings. Everyone trembled before Nikon, and none of the bishops dared to speak a word of courageous reproach against him. Nikon had frightened them all. They meekly and silently agreed to his demands and decrees.

Nikon’s Flight from Moscow and the Trial Against Him #

Patriarch Nikon did not remain long on the patriarchal throne—only six years in total. With his lust for power and excessive pride, he became loathsome to all. He also fell out with the Tsar. Nikon intruded into affairs of state and fancied himself above the Tsar, attempting to subject him to his own will. He spoke of royal authority with scorn and reproach. Once Nikon remarked: “I have no need even of the Tsar’s help—I spit on it and blow my nose at it.” This remark was reported to the Tsar. Alexei Mikhailovich began to tire of Nikon, grew cold toward him, and withdrew the attention and favor he had previously shown him.

Then Nikon resolved to influence the Tsar through threats. This had worked for him in the past. He decided to publicly abdicate the patriarchate, assuming that the Tsar would be moved by this renunciation and plead with him to remain on the throne. Nikon would then use that moment to demand full obedience from the Tsar as a condition for his return. But Nikon grievously miscalculated.

During a solemn liturgy in the Dormition Cathedral on July 10, 1658, he declared from the ambo, addressing the clergy and the people: “From idleness I have grown scabby, and you have grown scabby from me. From this moment, I will no longer be your patriarch; and if I even think to be patriarch again, let me be anathema.” Right there on the ambo, Nikon removed his episcopal vestments, donned a black mantle and monastic klobuk, took a simple staff, and walked out of the cathedral. He crossed Red Square, went out onto Ilinka Street, and stopped at the metochion of the Resurrection Monastery, which belonged personally to Nikon.

When the Tsar learned that the patriarch had left his post, he made no attempt to retain him. Nikon departed for the Resurrection Monastery, which he had named the “New Jerusalem” (about 60 versts from Moscow), and settled there. But he could not reconcile himself to his new status as merely a monastery dweller. Restless and domineering as ever, Nikon attempted to return to the patriarchal throne. One night, he suddenly appeared in Moscow, entered the Dormition Cathedral during a service, and sent word to the Tsar of his arrival. But the Tsar did not receive him, and none of the courtiers or boyars present, nor any of the clergy or the people, pleaded with Nikon to return to the patriarchate—which is precisely what he had hoped for. Frustrated, he returned to his monastery.

Nikon’s flight from the throne created further disorder in the life of the Church. On this occasion, the Tsar convened a council in Moscow in 1660. The council decided to elect a new patriarch in Nikon’s place. But Nikon exploded in vulgar abuse toward this council, calling it a “Jewish and demonic rabble.” In the Resurrection Monastery, he continued to behave tyrannically and outrageously: he performed ordinations, condemned and anathematized bishops, and even cursed the Tsar and his entire family²⁹.

The Tsar and the bishops did not know what to do with Nikon. Around this time, a Greek metropolitan from the East, Paisius Ligarides, arrived in Moscow. It was he who would soon take control of all hierarchical and ecclesiastical affairs in Russia.

Ligarides was a secret Jesuit and had been educated in Rome. The Eastern patriarchs had anathematized him for apostasy from Orthodoxy and had deposed him. He arrived in Moscow with forged letters of recommendation and managed to deceive the Tsar and gain his trust. To this cunning and scheming adventurer the Tsar entrusted the entire Nikon affair. Having familiarized himself with it, Paisius declared that Nikon “must be anathematized as a heretic” and that a large council should be convened in Moscow with the participation of Eastern patriarchs. Nikon knew perfectly well who Paisius Ligarides was and relentlessly exposed him in his writings, calling him a thief, a dog, a godless man, a self-ordained impostor, and a peasant upstart. From the East, reliable reports confirmed that this deceiver was indeed a Latinizing heretic, secretly serving the Roman pope, and that the Eastern patriarchs had long since deposed and anathematized him.

But since the Tsar had no one else to rely on in his struggle against Nikon, this unmasked impostor remained in charge of all church affairs and was the acting head of the entire ecclesiastical hierarchy³⁰.

To judge Nikon and to examine other church matters, Tsar Alexei convened a new council in Moscow in 1666, which continued into 1667. Eastern patriarchs also arrived: Paisius of Alexandria and Macarius of Antioch—the same one who had earlier pronounced anathemas on the two-finger sign of the Cross and those who used it. The invitation of these patriarchs proved ill-advised: they themselves had been deposed from their own thrones by a council of other Eastern patriarchs, and thus had no canonical authority to adjudicate church matters—not only in Russia, a foreign ecclesiastical territory for them, but not even in their own patriarchates. But they came to Russia for personal gain, hoping to receive rich alms from the Tsar of Moscow, and had little concern for the ecclesiastical affairs of Russia.

Paisius Ligarides managed to shower them with gifts; in return, they exonerated him before Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich. In turn, Paisius presented them as lawful and fully authorized hierarchs of the East. In truth, all these Eastern fraudsters, ready to stoop to any dishonorable act, ought to have been expelled from Russia. But the Tsar was utterly helpless without them. Thus, he had no choice but to rely on them—even though he knew they were illegitimate hierarchs who were blatantly deceiving him.

The trial of Nikon began. The council found him guilty of willfully fleeing from his patriarchal throne and of many other offenses. The patriarchs at the council called him a liar, a deceiver, a tormentor, and a murderer; they compared him to Satan and even claimed that he was worse than Satan. He was also declared a heretic for issuing a decree that thieves and robbers should not be given confession even before death³¹.

Nikon did not hold back against the patriarchs either; he vehemently rebuked them. He knew that they had been deposed and thus had no right to judge him. He openly called them impostors, vagabonds, Turkish slaves, corrupt men, and openly mocked them at the council.

Nevertheless, the council unanimously stripped him of all clerical rank and reduced him to the state of a simple monk³².

Nikon was exiled to the Ferapontov Monastery (in Novgorod Province). But this exile turned out to be a life of wealth and luxury, for the monasteries of Novgorod and Belozersk were obligated to supply him yearly with such quantities of provisions and various drinks that they would have sufficed for a large number of pampered and overindulged landowners³³.

Nikon, of course, did not recognize the council that had condemned him: “I consider it to be of no account,” he declared, and continued to call himself patriarch. He recognized no one among the Russian bishops as legitimate and went so far as to say that the entire Church in Russia had become a den of thieves, and its ecclesiastical governance—a demonic assembly. He began to preach that Christianity itself had come to an end in the world, and that the reign of the Antichrist had begun, and the end of the world was near³⁴.

Nikon even renounced his own reforms. While still on the patriarchal throne, he had declared that the old Liturgicons were good and that the divine services could be celebrated from them. After leaving the throne, he ceased to concern himself with his reforms, which had caused such terrible turmoil in the Church. More than that, he began printing liturgical books in his monastery in accordance with the old printed texts: the Creed with the word “True”, the name of Christ as “Isus”, “Rejoice, O Virgin God-bearer, O Mary full of grace” rather than “graced one,” as in the new version, the double alleluia, and so forth. By returning to the old text, Nikon passed judgment on his own reform: he acknowledged it as “unnecessary and useless.”

Nikon died in 1681, unreconciled with the Tsar, with the bishops, or with the Church.

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