But there is also something in fundamentalism that surpasses this symbol, which is no longer shared by all traditional Christians: first of all, the principle of the literal inerrancy of Scripture: since it is the Word of God, every utterance of it is true in the direct and immediate sense. Scripture should be interpreted literally, unless the text of Scripture itself calls for the opposite (for example, does not call the narration a parable). This position also seems traditional, but in fact it is not, because for the Church Fathers, and indeed for almost all medieval interpreters, the allegorical and other indirect meanings of Scripture had no less, and usually even more, value than the literal meaning. Fundamentalism, on the contrary, insists on the unconditional primacy and infallibility of the letter of Scripture, which the Church Fathers often left aside.

As a result, proponents of this trend, for example, categorically reject the theory of evolution on the grounds that the book of Genesis describes the creation of animals as a one-time process that leaves no room for gradual development. And the six days of creation themselves are usually understood by fundamentalists as six intervals of 24 hours, and the age of the universe according to this approach is about seven thousand years. Such a view is called the only one that corresponds to the Bible, but it seems that the only biblical view is that of a flat, motionless earth over which the sun, moon, and stars move, since this is the language used by the biblical writers (and all of us when we say "the sun has risen" or "the sun has set below the horizon").

In fact, this approach is the other extreme of liberal biblical criticism. Rejecting the obvious lie of liberal criticism with its reconstructions, fundamentalists themselves begin to create artificial and unconvincing reconstructions (for example, their geology, which agrees with the idea of the world created seven thousand years ago in a ready-made form) and offer their own untruth, which, in the words of the Apostle, has only "the appearance of piety." Then the principle of infallibility spreads even further than that of the Protestants, and the same property is endowed with the Fathers of the Church, and, ultimately, with the elected spiritual leaders...

Before the revolution of 1917, Russian biblical studies were a fairly young, original scientific school, the Russian doctrine had not yet had time to form, and their main efforts were reduced to comprehending and creatively adopting the best achievements of Western biblical studies. In fact, there is nothing new in this – this is how the path of Russian science, including theology, usually began, in order to later become completely independent and in some areas even surpass Western European. This was successful, for example, with liturgics, but this did not happen with biblical studies either before the revolution, or even more so, after it. As a result, Russian biblical scholars at this stage are forced to adopt Western methods in one way or another, to use the conclusions of Western colleagues; It is quite natural for the Orthodox to follow the most conservative models.

That is why fundamentalism, a movement of Protestant origin, suddenly begins to be perceived in Russia as a kind of almost patristic teaching, supposedly the only possible one for the Orthodox. But in this lecture I will try to show that in fact it is more destructive than useful for Russian biblical studies, which is only beginning to take shape in our country. Today it is not uncommon to hear Orthodox Christians vehemently disputing the propositions of A. von Harnack or G. Gunkel, as if they were expressed yesterday (R. Bultmann is much less likely to reach him, although this would be much more relevant). However, today almost no one shares the position of these scientists in its pure form, all criticism against them has long been expressed, here it remains only to repeat for the hundredth time what was said a long time ago; But the dangers of fundamentalism are noticed much less often.

In part, this was already the case with the generation of pre-revolutionary scholars: when N. N. Glubokovsky in emigration began to prove with the help of historical and philological methods that the Epistle to the Hebrews was written directly by the Apostle Paul, he took upon himself an insoluble task. One can say: "I believe that the Epistle was written by the Apostle himself, since many church writers testify to this," and this will be a self-sufficient statement, because faith does not require proof. But if we are to resort to an analysis of the style, composition, and manner of presentation, if we look at the place of this book in the New Testament canon, then we will have to admit that it is very different from all the other epistles that bear the name of the Apostle Paul. The method contradicts the conclusions, and, moreover, scientific analysis aimed exclusively at proving a predetermined point of view ceases, in fact, to be scientific. The researcher here does not so much analyze various arguments as select those that he needs for proof, for him it is not the analysis that is primary, but the conclusion. Therefore, the discussion loses its meaning: if both sides have a definite and unchanging point of view, which cannot be shaken by anything, then they have nothing to talk about among themselves. Unfortunately, it is precisely this model that often follows the "dialogue" about the Holy Scriptures in our society.

When the revolution broke out, Russian biblical scholars had not yet determined their position on this scale, one pole of which was liberal critics, and the other was fundamentalists. It is clear that after 1917 completely different issues appeared on the agenda, but a lot of valuable things were said, for example, by A. V. Kartashev in his report of 1944, which has not lost its relevance to this day (although there is something to correct in terms of specific examples). It is worth noting that in the same years, approximately the same process of searching for a "middle way" between the two extremes was going on in the Catholic Church, for example, the encyclical Divino afflante Spiritu, published in 1943. Life posed urgent questions to the Church, which had to be answered in modern language, without at the same time betraying the centuries-old Tradition, and there is probably no need to explain that in our time of peace we encounter similar problems.

However, on the whole, Kartashov's position was shared by a few Orthodox Christians: I remember very well how, as early as the late 1980s, the very expression "Paris School of Theology" was perceived almost as the name of a heresy, and when Patriarch Alexy II mentioned the names of its representatives in a positive sense in his public speech at Moscow State University, it had the effect of an exploding bomb. Times are changing, and today it is even strange to remember it... To some extent, Fr. A. Men continued Kartashov's line, and we know how many complaints his books caused. Unfortunately, instead of concrete criticism (which, of course, is always appropriate), it was usually a matter of indiscriminate rejection of the very approach that combines scientific analysis with a spiritual reading of the text: it is unseemly for the Orthodox to talk about such things! This position has usually positioned itself as conservative and traditionalist, but in essence it is difficult to call it anything other than fundamentalist.

Thus, the approach of A. V. Kartashov and other scholars and theologians belonging to this "middle" trend is to allow oneself the freedom of scientific analysis, remaining within the framework of church dogmas. This framework is quite broad: after all, belief in the Resurrection of Christ or in the creation of the world by God cannot be confirmed or refuted by science, since science studies natural things, and we believe in the supernatural. The dead, according to science, are not resurrected, which is why faith in the Resurrection, which surpasses the laws of nature, is so important for us. If it had conformed to these laws, there would have been nothing salvific for us in it.

Thus, an Orthodox scholar can remain a completely conscientious scholar, and therefore, in particular, not prejudge his conclusions. If it then seems to him that some of these conclusions contradict the faith of the Church, this contradiction should become for him not a source of fear, but a source of creative tension, the starting point of the search for truth. Something like this. Anthony of Sourozh advised us to approach the reading of the Gospel: not to gloss over the contradictions that arise in the soul, but, on the contrary, to note them, to reflect on them, so that they become points of spiritual growth. It is possible that some of these questions will not be resolved for the rest of our lives, but the point is not to get some smooth answers to all questions, but to have this life in Christ in reality, and to make it genuine. In the same way, science and education are needed only when they are genuine and taken seriously. I may not have an answer to some question that is important enough, and scientific honesty, as well as spiritual sobriety, demand that I admit that there is none. But I trust God that this answer can be found in principle, even in the life of the age to come. This is better than grabbing the first answer that comes across and declaring it final.

But if we sometimes have moments of internal disagreement with the Gospel itself, then much fewer such controversial cases are associated with scientific analysis and they are much easier to resolve. For example, if a researcher concludes that the Apostle Paul almost certainly did not write Hebrews in its final form, what does that mean for him? Only one thing: the authority of the text is not connected with its human authorship. The Church accepted this Epistle as divinely inspired, saw in it an exposition of her faith and included it in the canon. Whether it was written by Paul's disciples from his words, or by some individual author, in this case does not affect the authority of the text itself, the truth of the ideas expressed in it.

The other way is to abandon any scientific analysis altogether so as not to embarrass anyone. Perhaps this is why the successes of Russian biblical studies are so modest? Let us imagine for a moment that liturgists were given the task of justifying perfection and primordial predetermined in their studies... not even the Typikon, but our current usage. Let us assume that any remark in the spirit that a certain element of worship arose quite late and is of no essential importance would be dismissed at once as obviously impious. Would liturgics have been able to reach its present heights under such conditions? I strongly doubt it. But then we should not make these demands on biblical studies either.

Like a century ago, we can creatively adopt Western experience today. Our lag has its positive sides: we can not repeat other people's mistakes, but immediately draw conclusions from them. For example, many lances have been broken about Q theory, which is common to Matthew and Luke and to a source unknown to Mark, but today a growing number of New Testament scholars are leaving this hypothesis aside as unproven and not very useful for practical purposes. Perhaps we should not focus too much on it, focusing on more pressing issues. In the West, there has been a discussion about fundamentalism for a long time, I will now cite only one name that is well known to the Russian reader – J. Dunn. I do not share all of Dunn's points, but he is remarkably correct about fundamentalism.

First of all, I would like to note that the psychological factor is extremely important here. A fundamentalist craves security. He must know for sure that certain provisions important for his faith remain unshakable and no one dares to encroach on them. It would seem that such confidence is directly related to faith... But it actually excludes another concept, named by a word from the same root. Confidence excludes trust. If I am sure of something, it means that I know everything for sure, I control everything myself and I will not allow anyone to dispose of this territory. But if I trust a person or God, I can be sure of nothing but a happy outcome. I am ready to accept any turn of events, I do not prejudge anything and entrust everything to the care of the one I trust. That was the faith of Abraham and the faith of the apostles — they responded to God's call without knowing anything, not being sure of anything in particular.