Ways of Russian Theology

Conclusion.

It is far from easy to give a general characterization of the ecclesiastical schools during the reigns of Alexander I and Nicholas I. The “pre-Reform” school has been described and redescribed in the harshest and somberist terms. The expose writers Pomialovskii, Rostislavov, and Nikitin all wrote about it. 262 The appraisal of such an incontestable “conservative” as V.I. Askochenskii 263 tallies exactly with their testimony. Askochenskii was also a “secular” judge. The rudeness of the “lowl bursak” confounded him, and he describes seminarians with aversion and cruelty as “crude cattle.” Askochenskii's views hardly differed from those of Rostislavov. “A murderous character, a stunted mind, an empty heart, a preference for dire prophecies: these are the inheritance of youths who are entrapped in this inquisition of thought or any pure unfeigned feeling.” Such was Askochenskii's cheerless conclusion. One must admit that there is a good deal of truth in such charges and condemnations. There were many serious defects. Moral coarseness was chief among them. It should be remembered that in those days the ecclesiastical schools were left in great poverty, disorder, and material insecurity. Even the professors at the academies lived in extremely tight circumstances and poverty. The percentage of graduates fell to nearly half. One frequently encounters remarkable entries in the class journals about absences “because running away was noted” or “for not possessing clothes.” The Statute's high standards were often totally unfulfilled. After all, the statute required that not just memory, but understanding, be developed in the students. However, rote memorization remained the norm. Formalism, rhetorics, convention prevailed.

In the final analysis, such undoubted defects did not sap the creative vigor of those generations. The positive historical and cultural significance of the “pre-Reform” schools must be acknowledged and highly valued. For this school network served as the social basis for the entire development and expansion of Russian culture in the nineteenth century. Not until the 1840's did the secular schools very slowly gain strength. The Kazan' gymnasium and even the Kazan' University (as S.T. Aksakov 264 described them) were far behind the seminaries, not to mention the reformed academies. For decades in diverse fields the “seminarist” remained the sole engineer of the Russian enlightenment. In a fundamental sense, the history of Russian science and learning were tied to the ecclesiastical schools and the clerical class. An examination of the lists of Russian professors for any specialization reveals two categories: “seminarist” and “foreigner” (usually of German or Swedish origin; more rarely, Polish) along with an infrequent representative of the nobility or bureaucrat. Until only very recently the clear echoes and traces of this clerical education could be discerned in Russia's academic and literary psychology. It was a source of both strength and weakness — of creative curiosity and of careless maximalism. In this regard, the first half of the century was a decisive epoch. The generations educated at that time were the actors at midcentury and later, during those anxious decades of the “emancipation” and “impoverishment,” when (with the arrival of the so-called raznochinets) 265 the social basis of the Russian enlightenment began to expand rapidly. Actually, the raznochinets, or one of “mixed rank,” was usually a seminarist.

The first half of the century was also decisive in the history of both Russian theology and Russian philosophy. The abundant creative energy is simply staggering: a series of forceful and prominent personalities; a reverberating throng surrounding a leader; students and followers rallying behind a teacher. Such is normally the case in an era of significant themes. The question of Russian theology's existence was decided then, and it was answered with a creative “yes.” We can trace the victories step by step. Unquestionably one outcome of this period of quarreling and brawling over the Bible was a more responsible attitude toward the Holy Scripture. A solid foundation for Russian Biblical scholarship and Biblical theology was laid precisely during this time. This was not a matter of simple erudition or merely of concern to a few. The Statute of 1814 required that all students read Scripture. Characteristically, the very aim of the ecclesiastical school was left deliberately vague: “the education of pious and enlightened servants of the Word of God.” Special hours set aside for reading Scriptures were divided into reading “at a normal speed” and “deliberate” reading accompanied by explanations, so that “the chief passages for theological truth” (the so-called sedes doctrinae) could be noted and analyzed. Hermeneutics — theologia hermeneutica — was the foundation stone of all theology. Moreover, the students were expected to read the Bible “on their own.” Such reading was linked with, and great attention given to, Biblical languages, not just Greek, but Hebrew. True, during the “return to the time of scholasticism,” the study of Hebrew fell under suspicion. Was not this language of apostate Jews now a weapon of heresy and neology? Even Holy Scripture was read less frequently. Elementary instruction in catechisms suffered most, for one feared to read the Gospels to children. Nonetheless, a durable Biblical foundation was laid. The first positive outcome of this transitional period was a vital sense of Divine Revelation, or to put it another way, an intuitive sense of sacred history.

A second outcome was no less important. Contemporary theological tradition organically linked a philosophical perspective and the testimony of Revelation, that is, “philosophy” and “theology” were combined. This will be discussed in detail later.

Pratasov's “reform” actually strengthened the third outcome: the awakening of the historical sense — one of the most characteristic and distinctive traits of Russia's development in the nineteenth century. In part it was still the historicism of the eighteenth century, a sentimental survival of a bygone era, with its archeological curiosity about the past, its sense of ruin and desolation. Yet, the Statute of 1814 laid special stress on “that which is called philosophy of history,” in order to arouse a dynamic response to life. Modern German philosophy greatly spurred it on. A religious interest in the past — a sense of Tradition — was awakened.

For all its shortcomings and infirmities, the ecclesiastical school was classical and humanitarian. It was the sole link uniting Russian culture and scholarship with the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. It also provided a solid knowledge of classical languages (and to a lesser degree Hebrew). Greek met a sad fate in the public school. In 1826 it was deemed a superfluous luxury, although it remained in the program. In 1851 it was completely eliminated in all gymnasia except those in university towns, in cities with Greek settlements, and in the Dorpat school district. The hours for studying natural science had to be found somewhere. A great quarrel over Greek arose between Prince Shirinskii-Shikhmatov, 266 the Minister of Education, and the Assistant Minister, A.S. Norov, 267 although they shared a common clerical spirit. The minister feared that youths would slip their Christian moorings if they read pagan authors. Norov, however, was convinced that Greek “directs youths” minds to the exalted and the sublime,” deflects them from reading harmful and useless books, and is the primary language of the Orthodox Eastern Church. In any case, the Fathers, from Clement of Rome to Chrysostom, were added to the curriculum. In 1871 Greek was revived in the gymnasia with greatly expanded hours of instruction. An explanatory note laid great stress on the fact that knowledge of Greek makes it possible to read the Gospels, the Fathers, and the liturgical canons in their original language, “which makes our school learning precious to the people.” In reality, grammar was taught and the authors read were largely non-Christian.

One final outcome remains to be noted. Publication of theological books rapidly increased. Theology journals flourished; numerous individual works appeared, and not just textbooks and collections of sermons and addresses. The best productions of the schools, that is, master's dissertations. were normally published. One should remember that in general the schools, particularly the ecclesiastical schools, devoted special attention to the students' writing and literary style. The academies particularly tried to develop a writer's' gift and skill. Translation, for the most part in classical languages, but also in modern ones, was also drilled into the students. Thus, the ecclesiastical schools passed Russian thought through a philological and literary training, thereby facilitating the rapid growth of scholarly, theological journalism in the next period. In general by the 1860's, the Russian theologian was on the same level with his western counterpart. The entire journey was made in the first half of the century.

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