Nikonianism – Pavel de Rico
The heresy of Nikonianism lies in its departure from the historical Orthodox faith that had been continuously upheld in Russia. Everything else stemmed from this event. Following the infamous “Great Moscow Council of 1666,” which anathematized historical Russian Orthodoxy, a separate existence began for the schismatic hierarchy of the Russian Church and part of its flock. In the absence of Orthodox guidance, our compatriots began to fall into various heresies. New “spiritual” movements emerged and grew: for the upper echelons of the nobility, it was Freemasonry; for the common people, it was Khlystovstvo (the Khlyst sect) in all its manifestations. The latter requires closer examination, as it shaped the paths of development for the new, distinctly Nikonian tradition. However, the widespread fascination with mysticism was preceded by a realization of divine communion through the reformed confession.
1. The Preaching of Nikonianism
For a long time, preaching Nikonianism among the traditionally Orthodox population was extremely challenging. The Nikonians simply did not feel the inner substance of their confession. By adopting the new Greek rites of the 17th century, the schismatics faced the problem of spiritual motivation for their faith. Making the sign of the cross with three fingers, recent Orthodox believers did not feel connected to the sanctity of the faith professed in this manner. Previously, when making the two-fingered sign of the cross, everyone knew it was a sacred tradition rooted in antiquity. This was how Saint Prince Vladimir, the holy martyrs Boris and Gleb, the great Kievan miracle-workers Anthony and Theodosius of the Caves, our close compatriot Saint Sergius of Radonezh, and the entire host of Holy Rus’, rooted in the Kingdom of Heaven, had crossed themselves. But what could one connect to in the new Nikonian ceremonies? Deprived of sanctity in their church rites, people lacked the continuity-based confirmation of authentic divine communion necessary for every believer. Having once refused to see the liturgical order as a rule of faith, it was only natural to not see it in the new rites either. The path of temple-based worship was thus closed to the majority. Personal efforts were required to restore a positive religious realization, which was no longer possible in Nikonian churches and became achievable through numerous mystical sects. Even the vigorous pastoral activity of Nikonian preachers could not remedy this situation. However, such activity was largely limited to denigrating ancient Orthodoxy, as evidenced by publications from the late 17th to early 18th centuries. In essence, Nikonianism lacked its own positive content, as the old content was rejected, and a new tradition had yet to be formed. The entire 18th century was devoted to this formation. The new content was particularly fruitfully developed in the spiritual practices of Khlystovstvo, as evidenced by investigations of the 18th century and publications of the 19th century.
2. Khlystovstvo
Despite its apparent variety, Khlystovstvo has one fundamental characteristic. At its core, it is always a symbiosis of sexual energy and religious consciousness, which, notably, does not necessarily involve, and often outright rejects, actual sexual intercourse. The most sensitive individuals intuitively sensed this, which is why Skoptsy (castration sect) represents the most consistent manifestation, a kind of pinnacle, of Khlystovstvo. A special community forms around the leader of a Khlyst “ship” — a prophet or even a “Christ.” Adherents are grouped by gender, forming “circles.” Sexual abstinence creates the necessary emotional tension, while fasting refines the senses. Dance-like movements during ecstatic rituals accelerate blood flow, and at the boundary of consciousness and subconsciousness, a religious inspiration, possibly delirium, occurs. Interestingly, the use of sexual energy for religious purposes — sublimation — is found in religions far removed from such “Christianity,” such as Tantric yoga. Women were particularly susceptible to this “spiritual Christianity.” According to contemporaries (notably from the dominant church), most women’s monasteries and, to a lesser extent, men’s monasteries in the 18th and 19th centuries were infected with Khlystovstvo. In Moscow, according to Melnikov (Pechersky), at the time of an investigation into the Khlysts, it was found that all women’s monasteries had followers of this sect among their residents, and some convents essentially functioned as Khlyst “ships.” Among them was the well-known Ivanovsky Women’s Monastery in the capital, though men’s monasteries were not far behind. By roughly the second half of the 18th century, the new positive content in the form of charismatic experiences within secret Khlyst “ships” had reached a critical mass. Learned individuals emerged who managed to provide a legitimate basis for this content through ancient monastic literature. At the end of the 18th century, through the efforts of Paisius Velichkovsky, who translated and published patristic works dedicated to the spiritual life of monasticism, a revival of interest in the heritage of Byzantine hesychasm was facilitated. This forged the distinct content of Nikonianism, which entered life under the general name of “spiritual life.”
3. “Spiritual Life”
The concept of “spiritual life,” inherently Orthodox, arose as a result of the ascetic practices of ancient monasticism and was aimed at spiritual perfection. Monks in Egypt and Syria, generation after generation, accumulated ascetic experience. This experience was primarily the result of desert-dwelling — the main reality of ancient ascetics’ existence. At times, these were exercises aimed at concentrating attention, special prayer techniques, and other practices necessary for desert life. The focus on solitude and ceaseless prayer is the main distinction of such texts from other Christian (urban-communal) literature. However, in post-schism Russia, this entirely pious practice was used to replace the communal life of the Church. The focus on inner reflection shifted the emphasis of spiritual needs to the inner space of the human person. Christianity was no longer experienced communally, with the community, but as a private “spiritual life.” This aligned well with the realities of the 18th century and the secular orientation of the new statehood, where religion became a private matter. Developing positive content for a large (national) confessional community is a lengthy process. While the most advanced Nikonians embraced this content, the rest of the flock remained in a state of dual faith. By day, they prayed in Nikonian churches, formally as Nikonians, but at night, at home, they continued to make the slow, two-fingered sign of the cross before icons of Saint Nicholas the Merciful. The reception of this new content occurred in two ways. The most religiously mobile Nikonians adopted it through Khlyst “ships.” The spiritually inert portion required the efforts of the hierarchs of the synodal “church.” The issue of dual faith troubled the Nikonian leadership, and it was necessary to bring the newly acquired content (“spiritual life”) to every individual. In 1820, Filaret Amfiteatrov, then Bishop of Kaluga, established a unique skete at Optina Pustyn Monastery. A printing press operated there, publishing ascetic literature that supported and promoted the concept of “spiritual life,” which became the new positive content of Nikonianism, rendering communal (conciliar) confession of faith something external and of little interest. In addition to Nikonian “enlightenment,” the skete practiced a distinctive spiritual tradition of frequent confession — the disclosure of thoughts to a monastic elder — which later became a unique tradition of Nikonianism known as “staretzism” (eldership).
4. “Staretzism” (Eldership)
Staretzism is a distinctive monastic institution of the ancient Church, gleaned by the Nikonians from ancient patristic texts but practically derived from Moldavian monasteries and Khlyst sects. “Staretzism” refers to the interaction between a teacher — the “elder” — and a “disciple.” It involved a specific psychological practice that focused the disciples’ attention on tracking their thoughts and other forms of reflection — the so-called “spiritual life” — as well as regularly revealing their inner experiences to the elder. Interestingly, in the religious-polemical work White Doves by Melnikov-Pechersky, dedicated to the Khlysts, we read about Khlyst-style repentance: “The leading layperson must repent weekly, while an external layperson (i.e., a non-Khlyst) only once a year” (official church authorities required fasting and confession annually). Weekly revelation of thoughts became a practice that allowed the identification of individuals inclined toward “spiritual work,” forming a special spiritual community led by an elder, who acted as a secondary (and often primary) spiritual guide alongside the priest receiving confessions in church. Elders shaped the “spiritual life,” constantly monitored religious reflection, and provided guidance. However, what was spiritually appropriate for the desert-dwellers of the ancient Church became harmful in the context of urban and rural Christians. Focusing on inner experiences — a “flight to the inner desert of the heart” — became an escape from real life, rendering any church-based confession of faith unnecessary, and for some, even life itself. A kind of dependency developed between the disciple and the elder, with guidance sometimes taking on comical forms. Although the goal of Christian life, according to its new positive content, became the “acquisition of the Holy Spirit” (a thoroughly monastic pursuit), this was no longer life within the Church. “Acquire a peaceful (Holy) spirit, and thousands around you will be saved” became the acquired slogan of Nikonianism. This is understandable, as the “abomination of desolation” in the official religious institution prompted a need to “flee to the mountains,” i.e., to spiritual individuals who had “acquired the Holy Spirit” and around whom salvation could be found. Nikonians themselves understood that seeking salvation in the official “church” with its rituals was futile, as it was overly focused on the external. The absolute formula of Nikonianism’s acquired content is found in the Conversation on the Purpose of Christian Life: “They told you: go to church, pray to God, follow God’s commandments, do good — that is the purpose of Christian life… But I, poor Seraphim, will now explain what this purpose truly is. The true purpose of our Christian life lies in the acquisition of the Holy Spirit of God.” Having become mystics, Nikonians ceased to care about church life as something external and unnecessary for salvation, and they began to perceive the conciliar confession of Orthodox faith as mere ritual.
5. On Conciliarity
Thus, the Nikonian schism transformed. Internally, it acquired its own content — the “spiritual life,” led and governed by elders. Externally, the conciliar life, which had become devoid of substance after the schism, lost its appeal. Conciliarity died, becoming irrelevant, and the abolition of the patriarchate in 1721, along with the recognition of the emperor as the “head of the church” (see the Code of Laws of the Russian Empire), was met with indifference by the Nikonians. It no longer concerned them! From this time onward, pastors were no longer elected, and councils were no longer held. A telling example: when peasants approached Metropolitan Platon of Moscow with a request regarding their candidate for a priest, he responded, “Your job is to plow and sow, mine is to provide you with priests…” The peasants, apparently, had not yet embraced the “spiritual life,” while the metropolitan already had. Metropolitan Adrian, Moscow and All Russia, aptly described conciliarity in an interview: Conciliarity, as a form of conservative democracy, has always been the foundation of Orthodoxy. Thus, in the Creed, we profess faith in the Church, “holy, catholic, and apostolic.” Church councils, from apostolic times, have been a manifestation and expression of conciliarity. Conciliarity is reflected in the very structure of the earthly church. It is expressed in the conciliar election of priests and bishops, the active participation of laypeople in church life, and the conciliar decision-making at all levels of the Christian community — from the parish to the church council. From this, one can understand the significant difference in the understanding of the Church between the Orthodox (Old Believers) and the Nikonians, where parishioners are preoccupied with “acquiring the spirit,” while the clergy have become state officials performing the imperial cult of “calendar days” and mandatory annual confessions.
6. “Anointed Ones of God” (On Earthly Tsars)
The acquired “spiritual life” somewhat satisfied the need for divine communion but created an internal dichotomy within the church organization. Externally, everything remained as before: the clergy performed the cult, the parishioners fulfilled their duties, but this became an obligation that did not align with the reality of the “spiritual life.” The “church” consisted, as it were, of two parts: an inner “spiritual” one, led by elders, and an external one performing religious rituals. A connection between these two parts was necessary, and the emperors, it seems, understood this and offered themselves as that link. They ceased to be titled as before and, like hierarchs, were addressed without patronymics (Peter I, Catherine II). Perhaps for this reason, the monarchical idea evolved to the point of understanding the emperor as an anointed one of God. However, Sacred Tradition and the New Testament Scriptures say nothing about the anointing of tsars. Saint John of Damascus stated, “The Savior appointed apostles, prophets, and teachers in the church, not emperors.” After all, the Anointed One of God is Christ. The assertion that the emperor (tsar) is an anointed one of God is heretical, as it essentially denies the New Testament. Jesus Christ Himself is the King, and all Christians are called to the Kingdom of God. Heavenly citizenship is sealed by the Holy Spirit, the mark of which is chrismation. Every Christian is granted chrismation in their lifetime, while the exclusivity of anointing remained in the Old Testament along with the “promised land” and its people. It is strange to read such ideas in Russian religious press, as the Russian people had no promises of a “Holy Land” or special chosenness. According to the Apostle Paul, we are a “wild olive tree” grafted in (Romans 11:17). The Church must testify that the only Anointed One of God is our Lord, Jesus Christ.
7. “Tsar-Martyr”
The task of bridging the divide between the external and internal was attempted by the last emperor of the Russian Empire, Nicholas II. He was a genuinely spiritual person, constantly feeling the weight of fate and a need for communion with the spiritual world. This, however, was common for the Romanov dynasty, many of whose members were spiritualists. This should not be mistaken for something akin to “black magic” — rather, it was a result of advancing the practice of the “spiritual life.” It is unsurprising that the spiritual father of Nicholas II’s father (Alexander III) was the renowned preacher of the “spiritual life,” John of Kronstadt, the spiritual “Christ” of the Ioannites. The Ioannites faced criticism from the Holy Synod, and perhaps to rehabilitate himself, John of Kronstadt encouraged the emperor to canonize Seraphim of Sarov, to whom, according to the “spiritual” writer Sergei Nilus, the aforementioned formula of the “spiritual life” about “acquiring the Holy Spirit” is attributed. The imperial family’s own elder, the Khlyst Grigory Efimovich Rasputin (Novykh), was always present. He was acquainted with John of Kronstadt who, as contemporaries wrote, greatly impressed him. The emperor constantly consulted his elder, even on matters of state policy, which aligned with the demands of the “spiritual life” (though educated society did not understand this). The mediating mission between the external and internal “church” found expression in the canonization of Seraphim of Sarov. It was not the external “church” that glorified him but the emperor, against the wishes of the Holy Synod. The canonized figure himself represented a realized synthesis of external churchliness (he was a hieromonk) and internal spirituality — he was entirely “spiritual.” However, the true apotheosis of Nicholas II’s mediating activity was his own death, or rather, its subsequent interpretation as martyrdom. The deceased was a “tsar” and an innocent victim of the forces of apostasy fighting against imperial power, and, according to the laws of the Russian Empire, he was also the head of the church. This was the long-awaited synthesis: the “tsar” — head of the “church” — “victim.” This formula can only be correlated with Christ, which has been done in recent times with calls for “national repentance.”
8. “Unrepented Sin” and “National Repentance”
In “church” media, one could read the following: “…Just as Christ was crucified on Golgotha for the sins of the whole world, so Tsar Nicholas II was sacrificed for the sins of all Russia. A true sovereign is the ‘living image of the Heavenly King’… To repent before the tsar is to truly repent before God. ‘…The sin of regicide remains unrepented. Being a crime against divine and human law, this sin lies as a heavy burden on the soul of the people, on their moral consciousness.’ Ten years have passed since our Patriarch’s call for repentance… And what about us? Have we repented as our Patriarch urged and as our conscience demands? It seems clear: if guilty, repent, bear the fruits of repentance — the Lord will forgive, and you can live with a clear conscience. But unfortunately, many do not want to believe that the sin of regicide lies on each of us…” The theme of the imperial church is significant in considering the Nikonians’ relationship with Soviet power. Was this power from the Antichrist or not, if it killed — “sacrificed” — the “tsar-redeemer”?
9. “Martyrs” and “Confessors” of the ROC in 1917 and Beyond
Martyrs are the foundation of the Church. Hegumen Damaskin Orlovsky writes: “In the history of Russia, there was no period of martyrdom, only a period of venerability. In this sense, there was perhaps a certain incompleteness in church experience…” He clearly does not consider the first martyrs of ancient Rus’, Moanna and Theodore, on whose graves the famous Tithe Church was built, as belonging to his church. This remark, made seemingly in passing, is a kind of Freudian slip. In 1917, the Russian Empire, a creation of the schismatic hierarchy and the last Moscow tsars, was destroyed by the Soviets. Resistance to this power, according to Nikonian adherents, was a fight against apostasy, thus creating new martyrs who became the new foundation of the Nikonian “church.” Indeed, after the revolution, the status of Nikonianism changed dramatically, from a state confession to a persecuted one. The new authorities declared terror against the privileged classes. But is it fair to consider those who suffered as Christian martyrs? The Soviet authorities, like any revolutionary power, persecuted the “former” elites, not for their religious beliefs, especially since the majority of the revolutionary population were believers, and Patriarch Tikhon repented before a Soviet court for his “counter-revolutionary” actions. Prominent Nikonian hierarchs, such as Metropolitan Eleutherius and Sergius of Starogorod (later the first Stalinist patriarch of the ROC), acknowledged this as well.
10. Conclusion
Thus, it can be summarized that the Nikonian schism, after its emergence, had a significant flaw related to the absence of a spiritual tradition, understandable to most of its followers, that was supported by the objectivity of divine communion, attested by direct continuity. This issue spurred spiritual searches that culminated in the adoption of charismatic practices from the Khlysts. The borrowed spiritual experience was accumulated in monasteries and transmitted to the broader masses through a special form of spiritual guidance — “staretzism.” The spiritual experience adopted by Nikonianism was legitimized through selective use of ancient monastic literature. In the 20th century, this new spiritual content was solidified through programmatic canonizations. The acquired spiritual content rendered traditional churchliness external and insubstantial. However, this created the problem of a dual religious life. Today, attempts to resolve this issue can be seen in the initiation of the cult of the emperor and the notion of a national sin (unwashed by baptism).