As for specific information on these topics, there is a very extensive and multiplying literature in recent years, of which it is appropriate to cite here only the main works — Modest 1860; The idea of obozh. 1909, 165–213; Minin 1911–1914; Sokolov 1913; Hausherr 1927; Hausherr 1956, 5–40, 247–285; Jugie 1932, 17–78; Krivoshein 1936, 99–154; Staniloae 1938; Salaville 1940; Salaville 1944; Salaville 1947; Cyprian (Kern) 1942, 102–131; Kern 1947; Cyprian (Kern) 1950; Meyendorff 1953, 87–120; Meyendorff 1954, 38–50; Meyendorff 1957; Meyendorff 1957a, 547–552; Meyendorff 1959 [= Meyendorff 1997, an excellent edition with an extensive and highly qualified commentary, see also Afterword]; Meyendorff 1959a; Meyendorff 1971; Meyendorff 1971a, 53–71; Meyendorff 1973, 543–547; Meyendorff 1973a [text by Gregory Palamas]; Meyendorff 1974a, 111–124; Meyendorff 1974, 291–305; Meyendorff 1990; Joumet 1960, 430–452; Guillaumont

1962; Lossky 1967, 123–137; Lossky 1968, 76–77, 49–64; Lossky 1972; Lossky 1991, 53–70; Prokhorov 1966, 81–110; Prokhorov 1968, 86–108; Prokhorov 1972, 334 ff.; Prokhorov 1974, 317–324; Prokhorov 1978; Prokhorov 1979; Prokhorov 1986, 182–204; Uspensky 1967; Goleizovsky 1968, 198–203; Obolensky 1970; Obolensky 1971, 301–307; Obolensky 1976, 8–26; Florovsky 1972; Florovsky 1996, 107–116 [= Florovsky 1959–1960, 119–131]; Alpatov 1972, 190–194; Stiemon 1972; Likhachev 1973; Medvedev 1976; Sinkewicz 1982, 181–242; Sinkewicz 1988, 46–95; Sinkewicz 1992, 1–66; Bibikhin 1995, 344–381; Petrov 1997, 395–419 and others (cf. also a number of fairly complete bibliographies of the issue); cf. also the edition of the main text of Palamas — Meyendorff 1959a (here is also the translation), as well as the translation into Russian — Bibikhin 1995 (it is worth noting Beseda 1994).

As for the rightness or wrongness of Gregory Palamas, there was both the first and the second (the most vulnerable part of Palamas' theology is in that part of his teaching where the question is raised about the correlation of essence-ούσία and energy-ένέργεια of the Divinity, and about the created or uncreated light of Tabor). But the main thing was still "the empirical testimony that in the things of the world there is fulfilled an invisible not only eternal, but also uncreated meaning, a testimony which, as a link in the unceasing history of spiritual revelation, grew up in the hothouse of faith, in the innermost depths of the world, whose constant support was not rational self-accountability, but ascetic righteousness and holy eldership. The light of Tabor, says the Synodikon of the Sunday of Orthodoxy, is "the ineffable glory of the Godhead, the temporal glory of the Son, the Kingdom of God, the true and beloved Beauty." This bold confession of love for God can be considered the true testament of St. Gregory Palamas" (Bibikhin 1995, 377–378). Is it necessary to speak of the general balance of hesychasm, in the center of which was the theology of Palamas—the flowering of theology and its appeal to those urgent questions that in the patristic period were either indicated only in general, without special discussions, or were not raised at all; a new rise in icon painting under the Palaiologos (see Uspensky 1967); liturgical creativity, the transformation of monastic life, the general renewal of life in its various aspects (Meyendorff wrote that the hesychasts "breathed new life into the ossified and sclerotizing Christian society of Byzantium")!

Strictly speaking, the dispute between Palamas and the Barlaamites has not been put to an end, because the price of victory in this dispute between revelation and logic, intuition and rationalism is too great, too great and heavy a responsibility falls on the victor (the Church's acceptance of the teaching of Palamas inevitably meant that the door through which it was possible to enter the Renaissance [we are not talking here about the "Palaiologos" Renaissance], turned out to be closed). But Gregory Palamas's credits undoubtedly include the completion of the liberation of the Orthodox tradition from Neoplatonism [413], the indication of the role of "empirical evidence" regarding the mysteries that are inaccessible to philosophy (and science) and reveal themselves in Revelation, and, of course, the "bold confession of love for God" itself.

Most accurately, and without closing his eyes to the weak points of Palamism, acknowledging the incompleteness of a number of conclusions, without absolutizing what does not claim to be "absolute," Meyendorff sums up the theology of Gregory Palamas briefly, and this result should be heeded:

Was the teaching of St. Gregory Palamas, who rejected the secularism of the Modern Age, able to offer an alternative to it? Was it not, in fact, only negative obscurantism? It seems that we have been able to show that the latter statement would not be true. St. Gregory Palamas attacked not his own value of "external philosophy," but its claim to be adequate to the Mystery of Christianity. From this point of view, the teaching of St. Gregory Palamas represents a new and decisive step in the Eastern Christian tradition in the direction of liberation from the categories of Neoplatonism, which have always remained a great temptation for Greek mysticism. This is true not only on the metaphysical plane, where the personalistic and Christocentric thought of St. George breaks away from the ambiguity of Dionysian apophaticism, but also, and mainly, on the plane of anthropology. Between Plato's dualism and Biblical monism, the teacher of silence makes a decisive choice: man is not a spirit imprisoned in matter and striving to free himself from it, but a being called by his very composite character to establish the Kingdom of God in matter and spirit in their indissoluble union. These most important truths of Christianity were proclaimed and affirmed by the Eastern Church at one of the most critical moments in the history of Christianity, in an era when Christian thought was threatened by internal decay. In this way, the victory of St. Gregory Palamas acquires a value independent of time, not as an all-encompassing system capable of providing an answer to all problems, but as an indication of the direction in which to go.

[…] we find in the total scope of his [Gregory Palamas' thought] a constructive response to the challenge posed to Christianity by the Modern Age—a personal-existential theology and asceticism, freed from Plato's spiritualism, which wholly includes man in the new life."

(Meyendorff 1997, 326).

It is very likely that it is precisely this "personal-being" principle and the complete, entire, inclusion in the new life that to a high degree characterize Sergius of Radonezh himself, the essence of his religious type, his nature. Although there is no reliable information about whether Sergius knew the teaching of Gregory Palamas, and if so, to what extent, to what extent, there is no doubt that he not only heard about Palamas and his teaching, but also imagined the main thing in this new theology.

Such confidence is rooted in considerations of various kinds. First of all, Moscow, from the time when Metropolitan Peter moved to it, and especially from the time when the Greek Theognost (1327-1353) became metropolitan, was in close religious communion with Byzantium, first of all with Constantinople, with Athos, and, more broadly, with the Balkans. On the whole, despite all the difficulties experienced by the South Slavic and especially the East Slavic peoples in their historical fate, Slavia Orthodoxa was in a living and creative spiritual connection with Byzantium, and the entire "Orthodox" space lived a special life, being permeable by the spirit of communion, community and harmony. For any good initiative, this space was transparent, and in this context, the Russian Church and Russian holiness could indeed be understood as the "Russian" part of the Universal Church, seen with a broad and unbiased eye. A narrowed view, however, will see "differences," and disorders, and contradictions, and will be right in its own way, but the bearers of such a view, as soon as it goes beyond the limits of empiricism, have no right to judge the whole: at best, they have only an advisory vote at this trial. But within this universal "Orthodox" space, Russia had a special place. Geographically far to the northeast of Constantinople, Athos, and the Balkans, Russia itself was special in this sense alone. And the large, moreover, in various respects dangerous, distances then, in the fourteenth century, meant that "long" time, which significantly devalues information: between the question and the answer, the plan and its implementation, there was this "long" time, because of which the answer and the implementation of the plan were postponed so much that they often became obsolete or meaningless: the situation in the center of Universal Orthodoxy changed faster. than the ability to perceive these changes in Russia, because of the "technical" difficulties of communication. True, spiritual questions, theological ideas, forms and methods of knowledge of God and communion with God belonged to those fundamental and ever-unfolding phenomena in which any final point turns out to be temporary and relative. In this area, the factor of time itself was weakened to a certain extent: one and the same phenomenon or event, an idea, revealed itself in "different" time in Byzantium and in Russia, and the recalculation of time was necessary, and the historian of Russia cannot but take into account the role of this "long" time and the "wide" space compared with it. In any case, the "new" from the Greeks came to Russia, to Moscow, with a six-month or one-year delay.

There were two real ways to restore this deficit of connections and information in Russia [416] – to develop and sharpen one's receptivity to the point where the "hundredth intonations" are caught and through them – both consciously and subconsciously – what still has to be is restored (firstly), or to be included in the same circulatory system with Byzantium, with Universal Orthodoxy, to synchronize the beating of the pulse of spiritual life. to become a kind of Russian Byzantium of great ascetics and theologians, the high order of the Christian spirit, the sacralization of life (secondly). In Russia, both methods were done, and both of these methods have their roots in a common source and ultimately presuppose each other. But in both cases, there was a need for points of support, life-giving sources of Christian life. Both in Russia of the fourteenth century and partly in the century that followed it, there was an amazing breakthrough into the world of the Christian word and Christian art, a phenomenon that is somewhat extensively designated as the "second South Slavic influence" (cf. Sobolevsky 1894 and others), the "Pre-Renaissance," and so on. Unlike many other crisis situations, to which a quick, serious, responsible, and in this sense fateful response must be given, this time Russia was not late, did not miss her historic step [417] and, still under the yoke and in humiliation, in a rather heavy dependence, she at an accelerated pace, with amazing energy, behind which stood a genuine spiritual thirst. began to acquire what became the main means of the subsequent state, political, civil (and partly economic) liberation in a century and a half—that spiritual culture which, rooted in Christianity, was formed as a truly Christian culture. It is important to note that only on its lower layers did it reveal its "illustrativeness", which is always only an imperfect copy of what is depicted. At its own heights, like Rublev's "Trinity", this spiritual culture was least of all an illustration, a copy, a commentary, but it revealed itself as authentic Christianity, created here and now, live.

But the relations of Muscovite Rus with Byzantium and the Southern Slavs alone would probably not have been enough to insist on the acquaintance of Sergius of Radonezh with the theological teaching of Palamas, but it seems to be enough to hear this name. Of course, the chances that Sergius could have learned something about Palamas are increased by the Russian monks who formed a kind of colony in Constantinople, the "bookish" people who copied manuscripts and sometimes translated them, and the Greeks who visited Moscow from time to time. Interest in the book, curiosity about it, in everything new in this book world or the old, but remaining unknown, was characteristic of people of this circle both in Moscow (it is enough to name Metropolitan Alexis of Moscow) and in the Trinity. A 16th-century miniature from the Life of Sergius very clearly depicts the copying of books. The well-thought-out and complete forms of this action allow us to assume that during the reign of Sergius there was something like this in the monastery (see Tr.-Serg. Lavra, ill. 224). From curiosity about the manuscript – from its handwriting to its meaning – from diligence and diligence, the professionalism of the scribe gradually took shape, and the scribe himself drew him deeper and deeper into the circle of book interests, into the hot space of theological disputes that took place in Byzantium, and made it necessary to follow everything that stood out from the middle level. Therefore, it is difficult to imagine that Gregory Palamas could not have been known in the Trinity in the fourteenth century, and in this case, the main difficulty in chronology is when the name of the Metropolitan of Thessalonica became known in the Sergius Monastery.

Nevertheless, there is an even stronger argument in favor of the fact that Sergius could not have been unaware of the name of Gregory Palamas and, at least in its main features, of the teachings of Palamism. Such an argument should be considered the Palamism of the Moscow metropolitans Theognost [418], Alexis and Cyprian, who occupied the metropolitan cathedra from 1328 to 1406, of which six and a half decades accounted for the life period allotted to Sergius. All these three metropolitans were undoubtedly Palamites, especially Alexis, who spent quite a lot of time in Constantinople, which is variously defined as a year, then as two years (two trips in the period 1353-1355; Golubinsky 1900, Vol. II, 190 dates the second journey to 1356), and to Cyprian, whose connection with Sergius is documented. Strictly speaking, there is no definite information about Sergius' meetings with Theognost, a Greek Muscophile (in particular, who did much for the canonization of the first Moscow metropolitan of Perth), but his name is mentioned in the Life of Sergius in a characteristic context: