— What is currently happening to Russian Orthodoxy? 

— To answer this question, we’d need to turn to the two ideological concepts that presently dominate the public rhetoric of the Russian Orthodox Church (ROC): the “Russian world” and the Z-discourse. Let’s start with the former.

In March 2022, the Volos Declaration was published. It’s a famous theological document signed by over a hundred Orthodox Christian theologians that declares the ideology of the “Russian world” as a heresy. The Declaration states that this ideology is already part and parcel of the ROC’s theological DNA.

Some theologians, in particular Andrey Shishkov and Natallia Vasilevich, rightly indicate that this condemnation misses the point. The very teaching of the “Russian world” is extremely vague. It’s hard to say what theological elements it contains, if any. If we simply listen to Patriarch Kirill, Metropolitan Tikhon (Shevkunov), Archpriest Andrei Tkachev, or other ROC officials, we’d be surprised to find out that they are not saying anything specifically related to theology. The anti-migrant, pro-state, militarist, homophobic, pro-life, patriarchal, and anti-Western rhetoric — all of these are the most typical and banal examples of secular, political rhetoric and have nothing to do with theology per se.

Heresy implies the Church rejects a system of theological thought. So when a part of the Christian Orthodox community denounces the teaching of the “Russian world” as heresy, it misses the point. The ideology of the “Russian world” simply falls short of heresy because it contains no theological element whatsoever.

— But aren’t there concrete references to help understand the concept of the “Russian world”?

 — I recently came across a video showing an Akhmat special forces commander, who is a Chechen and a Muslim, speaking to his men. They are holding flags, and some of them have the words “Russian world” written on them. What am I to make out of it? How am I to analyze it?

The “Russian world” doesn’t currently enjoy any particular popularity among the Z-community. It’s just one of the ideological concepts within Z-discourse. So, it’s much more interesting to talk about the Z-ideology as a whole [note: all the statements in support of the “special military operation” against Ukraine].

If we look at the Z-discourse, we see the rhetoric of Patriarch Kirill, the Mufti of Chechnya, Russian Protestants, neopagans, and Russian nationalists are all totally identical. They’re all propagating the same message: Russia is the bulwark of everything good. The special military operation is not against Ukraine but against the West as a whole, and in particular against LGBT+ values. These values are the Z-discourse’s worst boogeyman. The mere mention of same-sex marriage or transsexuals serves as the ultimate, decisive argument in any discussion of the special military operation. Back at the beginning of the conflict, Patriarch Kirill dubbed it a “metaphysical war” against evil centered around Gay Pride parades. Simultaneously the Mufti of Chechnya said that a holy war was being waged against the “sins of the people of Lot” [homosexuality].

— How would you describe the present relationship between the Church and the state? And why do you think it’s taken the current shape?

— If I were to sum it up, I’d say the Russian Church is now a ritualistic priestly organization that blesses the existing social and political system. The origins of this have different explanations. For instance, Matthew Wood, a British religious studies scholar, is famous for the concept of “advanced secularization.” In essence, he refutes post-secularism. That is, the idea that religion is increasingly important in modern societies and is supposedly resurging in society and politics after a prolonged spread of atheism [note: as it was spread in the Soviet Union due to forced secularization]. Wood convincingly demonstrates the opposite: secularization continues to the extent that religious organizations themselves are becoming secular from within.

Let me give an example: there’s this Protestant pastor in Moscow. Ninety-nine percent of his sermons encourage people to go to the gym. What’s the point in that? The church of Christ gathered around the Word of God is supposed to represent the kingdom of Heaven that is “not of this world.” But once the church starts promoting a healthy lifestyle and working out, what’s the point of having a church at all? It’s the same with Russian Orthodox Christianity. A great deal of missionary attention is now focused on military patriotic youth clubs: let’s assemble Kalashnikovs and go camping in the forest. What’s this got to do with the Fathers of the Church, the Holy Communion, or the teaching of the Trinity?

From the Enlightenment until the 1970s, secularization was aimed at pushing religious organizations out of social and political life. But now, religious organizations echo secular discourses. The ROC is but one example of this trend.

— Does it mean that what is important now are the outward trappings of religion, not religion itself? Religious organizations provide people with the feeling of belonging to a grand tradition, to a “bigger narrative”?

— I don’t think so. We have to state the fact: religion is dying. It’s dying to such an extent that it’s hard to find anything interesting in it. Before, people were passionate about contemplating the Divine Light, practicing the Lord’s Prayer, or bringing their minds into their hearts. Basically what Foucault called the “ethics of the self.” Who’s interested in that now? But fighting against gays or for the Russian State? That’s what gets people excited.

So, to somehow survive and stay afloat, religious institutions replicate these “triggers.” Say, what’s the reason behind the Patriarch’s statements against migrants? It seems to me, it’s his desire to fit into the political agenda and trends. For religious institutions, exploiting various secular developments is a means to stay relevant. I’m following the sermons of the Patriarch and a number of other ROC officials. For quite a while now, these sermons rarely have anything directly related to Orthodox Christianity. Holy Russia, the Russian nation, “traditional values” — all of that have no relation whatsoever to Orthodox Christianity. Or religion generally, for that matter. 

In response to your question on the relation between the Church and the State in Russia, there’s no “symphonia” to speak of, meaning a well-balanced, harmonious union of secular and church authorities [note: the idea of symphonia, or συμφωνία, as conceived by Justinian I has particularly strong roots in Eastern Christianity. This concept is an expression of ideal, harmonious relations between the church and secular authorities]. “Symphonia” implies a mutual need for one another. But the state does not need the Church. For the state, the Church is just another Gazprom or a federal TV channel you give instructions to. In other words, it’s just another tool to secure the state’s hold over society.

— Does the Russian Orthodox Church have a way out of this situation?

— The short answer is the Church should be left alone. It should no longer be prostituted in such a manner. The Church should be able to remain true to itself and guided solely by the Gospels and the Church Fathers’ works. Those who stay with the Church once it has been left alone will discover the joyous beauty of these texts and that they’re full of perfect love. And then it’ll be as if a bomb had gone off all over again. And rather than remaining a quaint ideological mechanism used to teach children how to assemble automatic rifles, the Church will get another chance to become a Church in the genuine sense of the word, i.e. the body of Jesus Christ made alive through the power of the Holy Ghost.

— Suppose it has happened. Would the Church have some kind of a sociopolitical goal in this bright future? Or should it be reserved merely as a place for cultivating spiritual practices?

— Spiritual and sociopolitical practices aren’t mutually exclusive. Moreover, one implies the other. It’s through spiritual practices, like theosis, contemplating the Divine Light, and other mysticisms familiar to Eastern Christianity, that one experiences perfect personal love found in all social relations. Such is the classic model set forth by John Chrysostom or Symeon the New Theologian, a great mystic and one of the most radical communists in human history. (It might be the time to remember that faithfulness to the Fathers of the Church is the basic foundation of Orthodox Christianity that sets it apart from other Christian denominations). This Patristic legacy clearly indicates that the Church constitutes a political community in and of itself and offers an alternative to all secular communities.

The last eminent Orthodox Christian theologians of the last century and this (Florovsky, Meyendorff, Khoruzhiy) have clearly demonstrated that the antinomy of Empire and Desert, and not symphonia, underlies the political theology of the Christian Orthodox Church. People should step beyond the sinful imperial order and set up an alternative counter-imperial community in the desert [note: “desert” stands for any physical space beyond the reaches of the empire/kingdom. Desert is “virginal soil” (Florovsky) upon which one can build a new anti-imperial Kingdom of Christ].

In that sense the Church carries within itself the images and experiences of a genuinely different life at all levels. As to why Christianity has thus far failed to spread among all nations, John Chrysostom responded thus: It’s because we aren’t yet Christians ourselves for in truth as before we still worship power and gold. If we led a Christian life, sharing what we own and worked together, then all the nations would learn how wonderful that is and would join us.

Basically, John Chrysostom discovered long ago the way out of the aforementioned secularization crisis. According to him, by their own example and within themselves, Christian communities ought to represent a new social and political order that is so marvelous. that at a certain point it’ll encompass all of our society. The issue is that the mystical and ascetic core of Orthodox Christianity that can inspire a radically different community remains unknown and thus unused. We have yet to discover Orthodox Christianity. And once we do, we’ll come to love it.

“the Church constitutes a political community in and of itself and offers an alternative to all secular communities”

— You’ve outlined this model of a Christian community that pursues spiritual practices and represents a new way of living together. And therefore capable of winning over the outside world through its beauty and peacefully integrating it as it were. But there’s also an alternative model proposed, for instance, by the “Christian left.” Rather than cloistering themselves, Christians should go into the world and fight for civil rights and freedom from oppression. Are these two models opposed to each other?

— To me, the very notion of the “Christian left” is a misnomer because it leaves an impression that Christianity is already not leftwing. The Christian left is basically saying the same thing twice. It’s a redundancy. The Old and the New Testaments, as well as Patristic texts, are radically left and filled with the rejection of private property, the state, violence, and racial and social barriers.

Christianity teaches us that we live in a fallen world that lieth in wickedness. And the very existence of state and private property seems to me to be the best testimony to that fact. The Lord created everything to be shared, but after the Fall, the property owners stole and expropriated what was supposed to be common property. The Lord has created us free with no law or authority, but the Fall brings these two into being. The Fall is not some abstract notion. Rather, it’s a theological concept that identifies the existence of oppressive structures in our reality. Giving his life on the Cross, Jesus Christ saves us and thereby gives us a chance to transcend the fallen world right here right now and rise to a new, a different life. That’s what happens in early Christian and monastic communities.

— And these communities have a political purpose?

— Yes. Modernity has ruined us with the idea that we can only talk about politics in terms of state and nations. Politics is a sphere of interpersonal relationships. It’s about living in a community. Communities can vary. Say, you can leave an “empire” and set up an alternative community in the “desert” (to borrow the terms of Orthodox Christian theology), and that too would fall within the realm of politics.

“The Old and the New Testaments, as well as Patristic texts, are radically left”

Incidentally, some left-wing, anarchist theorists (for example, the group of authors working under the name of the Invisible Committee) arrive at the same conclusions in their own fashion. They state the need to go beyond the state-centered discourse and stop fantasizing about a revolution that would take control of the state or dismantle it. Instead they propose setting up pockets of alternative lifestyles here and now that will finally supersede the “empire”.

It’s the same paradigm as that of John Chrysostom when he was Archbishop of Constantinople, i.e. the bishop of the imperial capital. He says to his congregation: Look, early Christians led a perfect life sharing their property, money, and labor. They did it. Even now, hundreds of years later, he goes on, there’re monastic communities who lead the very same perfect life in love and brotherhood. We do not lead that same life. And that makes us Christians only in word, not in deed. Let’s communalize our property here and now (in the imperial capital). Let’s abolish money and live a life of love and brotherhood.

To borrow our terms, John Chrysostom essentially proposes introducing communism here and now. But then he gives a bitter smile: “I must have bored you with those sermons of mine, you aren’t ready yet. Well, let’s at the very least redistribute the income of the rich in the poor’s favour.” By the way, the historian and philosopher Georgy Fedotov thought that the early Byzantine Empire had set up a system of social welfare that remained unparalleled until the middle of the twentieth century.

“Instead they propose setting up pockets of alternative lifestyles here and now that will finally supersede the ‘empire’”

— As far as I’m aware modern left-wing authors seldom openly join forces with Christianity. Do you consider it to be an issue or an advantage?

— I believe any truly well-developed and thought-out left-wing discourse will sooner or later take on or incorporate religion. Whatever your attitude towards religion, it can’t be easily ignored. History always shows us that human beings are political creatures characterized by creativity, cognition, and religion.

It’s important to note of the left-wing thinkers are fighting modernity’s version of religion as the servant to the throne that justifies serfdom, wars and the like. Meanwhile, historically, left-wing discourse has its roots in Christianity. Bakunin started out as a Christian Anarchist directly borrowing his Anarchist views from Konstantin Aksakov, an Orthodox Christian thinker. The French socialism of Fourier and Saint-Simon is clearly of religious nature.

I’ll say this again: the Russian Church of today, or its image in the media, doesn’t have a trace of spiritual practices or the mystic notions of love and brotherhood. Yet, the more thought the left-wing authors give to the mystical and ascetic core of Christianity, the more likely they’ll discover its radical political message. And that’s basically what’s been happening over the last few decades, at least among the authors with broad left leanings.

For instance, in his late works Foucault studied “the ethics of the self,” the art of asceticism. He turned directly to the key texts of Eastern Christianity, such as The Banquet of the Ten Virgins, or Concerning Chastity by Methodius of Olympus or John Cassian’s Conferences. Foucault was certainly an atheist, but his passionate interest in, even a turn to, Christian asceticism during his later life cannot be ignored.

The same goes for the once enormously popular Roland Barthes who suddenly took up the subject of anchorites [hermits] and cenobites [monastics living in communities] in his lecture course How to Live Together. Communist and Maoist Alain Badiou wrote a book on St Paul the Apostle. Many of Slavoj Žižek’s writings, though he is a materialist and an atheist, are interspersed with chapters or specific passages treating Christianity with a very sympathetic tone. He often produces writings virtually indistinguishable from theological works. Or check the subject of Giorgio Agamben’s The Highest Poverty. His books have always been of interest on the left. The book states that the West’s desire to abolish law and property has its origins in the early Christian monasticism.

Yet another related example is the “new ethics” that incorporates feminism’s fight against the sexual objectification of women. It’s in fact very old Christian ethics. Christ’s call to not look on a woman with lust (Matt 5:28) is a statement against objectifying or sexualizing women. The aforementioned Banquet of the Ten Virgins and other treatises on chastity, reveal a discourse in stark contrast to the modern “traditional values” discourse. Today’s emancipatory practices and discourses generally have their origins in the Patristic legacy.

— But Christianity implies certain notions of truth and sin. Don’t these to some extent represent an external repressive norm? Were it not for these regulations, life would seem to be freer and happier.

— True. But today we can finally have a normal conversation about what monasticism used to be, what spiritual practices were in the past and are yet to arise in future. Christians shouldn’t say “suffer!” or “keep your fast!” just because it’s the custom. It makes no sense. Foucault’s notion of the “ethics of the self” implies that a human being is capable of transforming themself based on their relation to the truth. In striving to the truth, a human being transforms themself by practicing asceticism or “true” joy.

Foucault himself provides us with an exceptional interpretation of the Christian virtue of obedience. It isn’t about doing whatever any foolish boss says. It defines a model of interpersonal relationships that prioritizes the Other over the self. So practicing obedience is aimed at overcoming one’s pride as the center of power relations. Of course, it only works in a community where each is practicing obedience and the Other is always more important than the self.

Generally, spiritual practices produce an experience that is starkly different to everything we’re accustomed to. This experience gives us models and regulations that can then be applied to social relations. That’s the political significance of spiritual practices.

By the way, there’s another reason for the left to revisit its attitudes toward Christianity. The main issue of the left, who treat the Christian legacy and religious works with suspicion, is that they’ve got no resources or even experience to build a new society. Atheist socialism is bourgeois to its core. It’s got no knowledge of “the Other.” Where do you get your new society and new man from if all you know is a class society? Christianity, on the other hand, does have this experience of a new society and a new man.

— But is there a place for otherness within a Christian society or community as you’re describing it? Is there a place for someone who doesn’t share its values? Won’t he be stigmatized?

— Here’s my main point: Eastern Christian writings have already given us all the answers. They have many examples to illustrate this point. Say, we’ve got a Christian community in the form of a monastery or a town. A man enters whose behavior provokes general disdain that degenerates into violence. It’s, for instance, the plot of the Life of Andrew the Fool or the Life of St Alexius, Man of God, as well as of multiple other stories about fools for Christ or secret saints. What’s the point of these works? It’s to show that you think you’ve built a Christian community but in truth you’re anything but Christians. Because there’s a man who comes to you who doesn’t behave the way you want him to, either defiantly, radically or just not according to your norms, and you mock, disdain, mistreat him, reject or use violence against him.

Christian literature has always known, understood, and addressed this issue. You ought to be Christians in essence and not in name only. When you see a complete stranger, the absolute Other, revolting to you as he may be, what do you do then? You show him the virtue of “philoxenia” (φιλοξενία), the Church Slavonic “strannolyubie,” so literally “the love of strangers.” I quite like the Church Slavonic term because it implies not only the love towards traveling strangers but towards the strange in general (freak, queer, weird). Philoxenia is one of the cardinal Christian virtues that used to be actively cultivated in the Early Church. Whoever comes to you, no matter how frustrated or angry you are with him, you ought to show him your active love. Angels can be disguised as strangers (Heb 13:2). And Jesus Christ as homeless, those in prison, the sick or the poor (Matt 25:31-46). In this way Christian culture taught us, strictly speaking, to treat every other person as we would treat our Lord.

“Atheist socialism is bourgeois to its core. It’s got no knowledge of “the Other.” Where do you get your new society and new man from if all you know is a class society?”