An Essay on the Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church

The theological systems developed throughout this struggle can be seen in their most direct relation to the purpose of life, the attainment of which they were supposed to contribute, in other words, to union with God. And then they are perceived by us as the foundations of Christian spiritual life. This is exactly what we mean when we say "mystical theology." This is not "mysticism" in the proper sense of the word, that is, not the personal experience of various teachers of high spirituality. This experience remains most often inaccessible to us, even if it finds a verbal expression for itself. Indeed, what can we say about the mystical experience of the Apostle Paul: "I know a man in Christ, who fourteen years ago (whether in the body I do not know, whether out of the body I do not know: God knows) was caught up to the third heaven. And I know of such a man (only I do not know whether in the body or out of the body: God knows), that he was caught up into paradise, and heard ineffable words, which cannot be told to man" (2 Corinthians 12:2-4). To dare to pass any judgment on the nature of this experience, one would have to know more about it than the Apostle Paul himself, who confesses his ignorance: "I do not know: God knows." We resolutely distance ourselves from any psychology. Nor do we intend to expound theological systems as such, but only those theological principles which are necessary for the understanding of spiritual life, and those dogmas which are the basis of all mysticism. Here is the first definition, which is also the limitation of our topic, as "the mystical theology of the Eastern Church."

The second definition of our theme closes it, so to speak, in space. The field of our study of mystical theology will be precisely the Christian East, or, more precisely, the Eastern Orthodox Church. It must be admitted that such a restriction is somewhat artificial. Indeed, since the rupture between the Eastern and Western Churches occurred only in the middle of the eleventh century, everything that precedes it is the common and undivided treasure of the two separated parts. The Orthodox Church would not be what it is if it did not have St. Cyprian, Blessed Augustine, St. Pope Gregory the Dialogist, just as the Roman Catholic Church could not do without St. Athanasius the Great, Basil the Great, and Cyril of Alexandria.

Is it possible to judge these two traditions on neutral ground, equally alien to both? This would mean judging Christianity as non-Christians, that is, refusing to understand anything in advance about the subject of the proposed study. For objectivity does not at all consist in placing oneself outside a given object, but, on the contrary, in considering this object in it and through it. There are realms where what is commonly called "objectivity" is simply indifference, and where indifference means misunderstanding.

This last attitude is the only acceptable one for us.

Such assertions, which are very often heard in both East and West, are due to a purely secular speculation, to the generally accepted methodical habit of considering the history of the Church without regard to its religious nature as such. For such a "historian of the Church," the religious factor disappears because it is replaced by other factors: the play of political or social interests, the role of ethnic or cultural conditions, which are taken as the decisive forces that determine the life of the Church. To speak of these factors as the true causes governing church history is considered more far-sighted and more contemporary. But every Christian historian, paying tribute to these conditions, cannot but consider them only "external" in relation to the very existence of the Church; he cannot refuse to see in the Church a certain original principle, subject to a different law, not the deterministic law of "this world." If we turn to the dogmatic question that divided East and West, to the question of the procession of the Holy Spirit, then it can in no way be spoken of as an accidental phenomenon in the history of the Church as such. From the religious point of view, it is the only real cause of the concatenation of the factors that led to the separation. Although this reason may have been due to several factors, nevertheless the dogmatic definition became for both of them a kind of spiritual obligation, a conscious choice in the field of confession of faith.

If there is often a tendency to belittle the importance of those dogmatic data which determined all the subsequent development of the traditions of both Churches, this is due to a certain insensitivity to the dogma itself, which is regarded as something external and abstract. We are often told that only the spiritual disposition is important, that the dogmatic difference does not change anything. Nevertheless, spiritual life and dogma, mysticism and theology are inseparably linked in the life of the Church. As for the Eastern Church, as we have already said, it does not make a particularly clear distinction between theology and mysticism, between the sphere of general faith and the sphere of personal experience. Thus, if we want to speak of the mystical theology of the Eastern Tradition, we cannot speak of it except within the framework of the dogmatic teaching of the Orthodox Church.

Before proceeding to our topic, it is necessary to say a few words about the Orthodox Church, which is still little known in the West. Father Congar, in his book Chretiens desunis (Divided Christians), in the pages devoted to Orthodoxy, in spite of all his efforts to be objective, nevertheless remains dependent on the bias of certain views on the Orthodox Church: "At the same time, the West," he says, "on the basis of an Augustinian ideology at the same time developed and definite, demands for the Church its inherent vital and organizational independence, and in this respect conducts the foundation of a line of very positive ecclesiology, the East in practice, and sometimes even in theory, admits in the social and human reality of the Church the principle of political unity, a principle that is not religious, particular, and not truly universal"[4]. For Father Congar, as well as for the majority of Catholic and Protestant authors who have spoken on this subject, Orthodoxy appears to be a federation of national Churches based on political principles, that is, the Church of a state. Only without knowing the canonical foundations and history of the Church can one take the risk of such generalizations. The idea that the unity of any local Church is justified by a political, ethnic, or cultural principle is considered in the Orthodox Church to be a heresy that has a special name: phyletism. It is the territory of the Church, the land consecrated by a more or less ancient Christian tradition, that is the "base" of the metropolitan district, governed by an archbishop or metropolitan, with its own bishops for each diocese, who meet from time to time in council. If metropolitan districts unite and form local Churches under the jurisdiction of a bishop, who is often called a patriarch, then again the community of local church traditions, a common fate, as well as convenient conditions for the convocation of a council are the main reasons for the formation of these large jurisdictional districts, the territory of which does not necessarily correspond to political boundaries. The Patriarch of Constantinople enjoys a certain primacy of honor and is sometimes a judge in disagreements, although the totality of the Universal Church is not within his jurisdiction. The Local Eastern Churches were in approximately the same relationship with the Roman Apostolic Patriarchate, the first see of the Church before its division and the symbol of its unity.

Church unity expresses itself in the communion of the Local Churches, in the acceptance by all the Churches of the decisions of the Local Council, which thereby acquires the significance of an Ecumenical Council, and, finally, in exceptional cases, this unity can be manifested by the convocation of a general Council[7]. The catholicity of the Church, far from being the "privilege" of any one throne or one particular ecclesiastical center, is realized rather in the richness and diversity of local traditions, which unanimously bear witness to the one truth, to that which is preserved always, everywhere and by all. Inasmuch as the Church is catholic in each of its parts, each of its members, not only clergymen but also laymen, is called upon to confess and defend the truth, opposing even bishops if they fall into heresy. A Christian who has received the gifts of the Holy Spirit in the sacrament of chrismation cannot but be conscious of his faith. He is always responsible for the Church. Hence the sometimes turbulent and turbulent aspect of church life, characteristic of Byzantium, Russia and other countries of the Orthodox world. But these are signs of religious vitality, of the intensity of spiritual life, which deeply affects the entire believing people, united by the consciousness that they form a single body with the church hierarchy. Hence the invincible force thanks to which Orthodoxy passes through all trials, all disasters and upheavals, always applying itself to a new historical reality and proving to be stronger than any external conditions. The Orthodox Church, although it is usually called Eastern, nevertheless considers itself to be the Universal Church. And this is true in the sense that it is not limited to the sphere of a certain culture, the heritage of the Hellenistic or any other civilization, or any forms of culture characteristic only of the culture of the East. However, the term "Eastern" says too much at once: the East is more diverse in the cultural sphere than the West. What do Hellenism and Russian culture have in common, although Russian Christianity is of Byzantine origin? Orthodoxy has become the leaven of too many and different cultures to be regarded as the "cultural form" of Eastern Christianity: these forms are different, but the faith is one. Orthodoxy has never opposed national cultures to a culture that could be called specifically Orthodox. That is why his missionary activity could develop so amazingly: the Christianization of Russia in the tenth and eleventh centuries, and then the preaching of the Gospel throughout Asia. By the end of the 18th century, Orthodox missionaries reached the Aleutian Islands and Alaska, then moved to North America, creating new dioceses of the Russian Church outside Russia and spreading Christianity in China and Japan. Anthropological and cultural differences, from Greece to the Far East, from Egypt to the Arctic Ocean, do not disturb the homogeneous character of this spiritual family, which is very different from the spiritual family of the Christian West.

Orthodoxy is distinguished by a great variety of forms of its spiritual life, of which monasticism remains the most classical. However, in contrast to Western monasticism, Eastern monasticism does not consist of many different orders. This is explained by the very understanding of the monastic life, the goal of which can only be union with God with a complete renunciation of the life of this world. If white clergy (married priests and deacons) or lay brotherhoods can engage in social affairs or devote themselves to some other kind of external activity, it is a different matter for monks. A monk takes monastic vows primarily in order to engage in prayer and inner work in a monastery or skete. Between the coenobitic monastery and the solitude of a hermit who continues the tradition of the desert fathers, there are several intermediate stages of monastic life. In general, it could be said that Eastern monasticism is of a purely contemplative character, if the distinction between the two paths, contemplative and active, had the same meaning in the East as in the West. In reality, however, in the Eastern Church, both paths are inseparable from each other: one path is inconceivable without the other, for ascetic perfection, the school of inner prayer, is called spiritual work. If monks sometimes engage in physical labor, it is mainly for ascetic purposes: to crush the disobedience of nature and to avoid idleness, the enemy of spiritual life. In order to attain union with God to the extent that it is realizable in earthly life, constant effort or, more precisely, unceasing vigilance is necessary, so that the integrity of the inner man, the "unity of heart and mind," in the language of Orthodox asceticism, would oppose all the intrigues of the enemy, all the irrational movements of fallen human nature. Human nature must change, must be transformed more and more grace-filled on the path of its sanctification, which is not only spiritual sanctification, but also bodily, and therefore cosmic. The spiritual feat of a kinovite or anchorite living far from the world, even if it remains invisible to everyone, has significance for the whole world. Therefore, monasteries were revered in this way in all countries of the Orthodox world.

Крупные очаги духовной жизни имели исключительное значение не только в жизни церковной, но и в области политики и культуры. Монастыри Синая и Студийский, близ Константинополя, "монастырская республика" на Афоне, объединяющая иноков всех наций (включая и монахов латинской Церкви до разделения), другие крупные центры вне Византийской империи, как монастырь Тырново в Болгарии и великие Лавры России - Печерская в Киеве и Троице-Сергиевская под Москвой - были оплотом Православия, школами духовной жизни, религиозное и нравственное влияние которых было огромным для христианского воспитания новообращенных народов[8]. Но если монашеский идеал так захватывал человеческие души, то само монашество не было единственной формой духовной жизни, которую Церковь предлагала верующим. Путем единения с Богом можно следовать во всех условиях человеческой жизни и вне монастырей. Внешние формы могут изменяться, монастыри могут исчезать, как почти исчезли они сейчас в России, но духовная жизнь продолжается с той же интенсивностью и находит новые способы самовыражения.

Исключительно богатая восточная агиография наряду с житиями святых-монахов приводит много примеров духовного совершенства, достигнутого в миру простыми мирянами, людьми, живущими в браке. Она говорит также о странных и необычных путях святости, о "Христа ради юродивых", совершающих нелепые поступки, чтобы под отталкивающей личиной безумия скрыть свои духовные дары от взоров окружающих или, вернее, вырваться из уз мира сего в их наиболее глубоком и наименее приемлемом для разума смысле - освободиться от уз своего социального "я"[9]. Соединенность с Богом выражается иногда в харизматических дарах, как, например, в даре духовного руководства "старцев". Чаще всего это монахи, проведшие многие годы своей жизни в молитве, ушедшие от мира в затвор, и под конец жизни широко распахнувшие перед всеми двери своих келлий. Они имеют дар проникновения в сокровеннейшие глубины человеческой совести, обнаруживая в них грехи и трудности, о которых чаще всего мы сами не знаем, они поддерживают поникшие души, наставляя их не только на пути духовном, во также и руководя ими на всех путях житейских[10].

Личный опыт великих мистиков Православной Церкви чаще всего нам неизвестен. За редким исключением в духовной литературе православного Востока нет таких автобиографических рассказов о своей внутренней жизни, как у святой Анжелы из Фолиньо, Генриха Сузо или святой Терезы из Лизье в ее "Истории одной души". Путь мистического соединения с Богом - почти всегда тайна между Богом и душой, которая не раскрывается перед посторонними, разве только перед духовником или некоторыми учениками. Если что и оглашается, то лишь плоды этого соединения: мудрость, познание Божественных тайн, выраженные в богословском или нравственном учении, в советах и назиданиях братии. Что же касается самого внутреннего и личного опыта он сокрыт от всех взоров. Нужно признать, что мистический индивидуализм и в западной литературе появляется довольно поздно, примерно в XIII веке. Святой Бернард Клервоский говорит непосредственно о своем личном опыте очень редко: всего только один раз в "Слове на Песнь Песней", и то, по примеру апостола Павла, с некоторой застенчивостью. Нужно было произойти какому-то рассечению между личным опытом и общей верой, между личностной жизнью и жизнью Церкви, чтобы духовная жизнь и догмат, мистика и богословие стали двумя различными сферами, чтобы души, не находя достаточной пищи в богословских "Суммах", с жадностью искали рассказов об индивидуальном мистическом опыте, чтобы снова окунуться в духовную атмосферу. Мистический индивидуализм остался чуждым духовному опыту Восточной Церкви.

Отец Конгар прав, когда говорит: "Мы стали различными людьми (des hommes differents). У нас один и тот же Бог, но мы перед Ним - различные люди и не можем одинаково мыслить о природе наших к Нему отношений"[11]. Но чтобы правильно судить об этом духовном различии, нам следовало бы рассмотреть его в наиболее совершенных выражениях - в типах святых Запада и Востока после разделения. Мы смогли бы тогда дать себе отчет о тесной связи, всегда существующей между догматом, исповедуемым Церковью, и духовными плодами, которые она порождает, ибо внутренний опыт христианина осуществляется в кругу, очерченном учением Церкви, в обрамлении догматов, формирующих его личность. Если политическая доктрина, преподанная политической партией, может в такой степени формировать умозрение, что появляются разные типы людей, отличающиеся друг от друга известными нравственными и психическими признаками, то тем более религиозный догмат может изменять самый ум того, кто его исповедует: такие люди отличаются от тех, что формировались на основе иной догматической концепции. Мы никогда не могли бы понять аспекта духовности какой-нибудь жизни, если бы не учитывали догматического учения, лежащего в ее основе. Нужно принимать вещи такими, какими они есть, и не пытаться объяснять разницу духовной жизни па Западе и на Востоке причинами этнического или культурного порядка, когда речь идет о наиважнейшей причине - о различии догматическом. Не нужно также убеждать себя в том, что вопрос об исхождении Святого Духа или же вопрос о природе благодати не имеет большого значения для христианского учения в целом, якобы остающегося более или менее одинаковым и для римских католиков и для православных. В таких основных догматах именно это "более или менее" и важно, ибо оно придает различный уклон всему учению, представляет его в ином свете, иными словами - порождает иную духовную жизнь.

Мы не хотим заниматься ни "сравнительным богословием", ни тем более возобновлять вероисповедную полемику. Мы ограничиваемся здесь только тем, что, прежде чем перейти к обозрению некоторых аспектов богословия, лежащих в основе духовной жизни Восточной Церкви, констатируем самый факт догматического различия между христианскими Востоком и Западом. Нашим читателям решать, в какой мере эти богословские аспекты православной мистики могут помочь понять духовную жизнь, чуждую западному христианству. Если, оставаясь верными своим догматическим позициям, мы могли бы дойти до взаимного понимания, в особенности в том, что нас друг от друга отличает, это было бы, конечно, более верным путем к соединению, чем тот, который проходил бы мимо этих различий. Ибо, говоря словами Карла Барта, "соединение Церквей не создают, но обнаруживают"[12].