The Religious Movement in England. The Direction of Theological Thought at Oxford University. The Branch Theory of the One Catholic Church. Palmer and His Idea of Closer Acquaintance With the Orthodox East. Petition to the Late Sovereign Alexander II. Journey to Russia

In the 1830s a significant religious movement was taking place in England. The Anglican Church, developing gradually in the direction of Protestantism, had at length carried the process of Protestantization so far that all of her best friends—those who wished to see in her not some ordinary Protestant sect but one of the branches of the Catholic or universal Church—were involuntarily shaken. As a result of this awareness, a reaction naturally began, and it expressed itself in the well-known so-called “Oxford” movement. This movement was born in the classical seat of English learning, Oxford University, which not only then but even now may be said to hold an exclusive monopoly on the initiative of intellectual movements among the English people. Among its professors—from whose ranks, thanks to the distinctive system of their election by a council of trustees, only serious and thereby conservative thinkers can emerge—the abnormal conditions into which the Anglican Church was being placed through the immoderate admission of Protestant elements were first clearly perceived. Indeed, a simple, unaided glance was sufficient to see how far the Anglican Church of the early nineteenth century had deviated not only from the Roman Catholic Church, from which it had separated only two centuries earlier, but also from the type of independent “Catholic” church that, in principle, it ought to have become after freeing itself from the ecclesiastical monopoly of Rome. This alarmed the serious, conservative scholars of Oxford. In order as far as possible to halt the further development of Protestant principles in the Anglican Church, the university professors formed among themselves a society whose aim was the dissemination among the people of sound ecclesiastical principles. But where were these sound ecclesiastical principles to be sought? As serious men, the Oxford scholars turned to the inexhaustible source of universal principles: the writings of the Fathers and teachers of the undivided Church. A careful study of these writings—which had fallen into considerable neglect under the influence of the prevailing ideas of Protestantism—began. And the effort proved exceedingly fruitful. No sooner had the Oxford scholars touched this living source of true ecclesial principles than their eyes were, one might say, opened: they saw the abnormal position of the Anglican Church no longer as through a glass darkly, but face to face, and moreover with the torch of authoritative guidance. Before the Oxford scholars there opened an immeasurable horizon of the universal Church, and her principles—so elevated and great in comparison with the sectarian narrowness of Anglicanism as it then was—made a captivating impression upon them and decisively shaped the character of the entire movement. The entire movement became a search for the universal Church, and the further the Oxford theologians immersed themselves in patristic literature, the more captivating became for them the idea of the Catholic Church in the precise symbolic sense of that word. This was fully reflected in the tracts through which the Oxford scholars shared the results of their research with society. The earliest of these tracts bear traces of hesitancy and of a traditional attachment to the forms of contemporary Anglicanism, but with each successive tract the abstract Catholic element emerges more strongly, until at last the final tracts express the complete sympathy of the Anglican theologians for the catholicity they were seeking—in sacrifice to which they were prepared to offer up the symbolic articles of the Anglican Church.

And so the movement of theological thought at Oxford University had led to a decisive crisis. Contemporary Anglicanism proved to be incompatible with the ideal of the Catholic Church as derived from the writings of the Fathers and teachers of the universal undivided Church. What was to be done? The true idea of the Catholic Church discovered in patristic literature was too abstract to allow for a definitive resting point. If this idea is true, it must be real, and therefore there must exist on earth an actual embodiment of it—the absence of which would be a violation of the great promise that the Church would never cease to exist on earth. This line of logical reasoning naturally led to a search for a genuinely Catholic Church on earth, one fully corresponding to the principles of the true Church of Christ. And here two currents of theological thought took shape, which divided among themselves the Oxford and other thinkers interested in the movement. In the opinion of some, the source of the evil afflicting the Anglican Church and plunging it into the swamp of Protestantism lay in the very root of the Reformation movement. In their view, the Reformation itself—which had impelled the Anglican Church’s separation from Roman Catholicism—was a fatal historical error, and therefore the sooner one returned to the former alma mater, the Roman Catholic Church, the better, since she still represents the most perfect type of the universal or Catholic Church. However apparently incongruous this conclusion drawn from careful study of patristic literature may seem, it was at the same time the most natural one given the circumstances. The Roman Catholic Church, with her well-ordered organization, refined forms and hierarchy, her worldwide spread, and the captivating power of her historical past, was the entity most likely to present itself to the imagination of the Oxford scholars when they sought a genuinely universal Church. If one adds to this the commonality of Latin civilization, which of necessity linked England to the Roman Catholic continent, and the historical estrangement from the little-known and little-developed East, then the inclination of a portion of the Oxford scholars toward the Roman Catholic Church becomes natural and understandable. But among them were also men who prized the blessings of national and religious freedom too dearly and understood the process of historical development too deeply to rest there. They too were captivated by the ideal of the one true Catholic Church, and they wished to find its realization on earth; but being at the same time more exacting in their examination of the existing churches, they could not immediately concede the monopoly of truthfulness to any single one of the existing churches. They saw that the actual ideal of the apostolic, Catholic Church was not met by any one of the existing churches taken singly; yet it must exist in reality, by the Saviour’s promise. Following this path of logical development, these scholars arrived at the conclusion that the true Catholic Church is not represented separately by any one of the three chief existing churches taken individually, but by all of them together. The Catholic Church resembles a tree which, having one root and trunk, branches out as it develops and grows, so that each branch, to a superficial observer, appears to have nothing in common with the other branches, while in reality they all share the same basic trunk, are nourished by the same sap, and have one and the same vital root. The three chief churches—the Greco-Eastern, the Roman Catholic, and the Anglican—which have separated into distinct communities through historical development, are but branches of one Catholic Church. Each of them, taken individually, does not constitute the Catholic Church in the proper sense; it is only a part of it, and moreover one that has corrupted the purity of its archetype under the influence of various historical and national elements. But if one takes them all together and, by means of a certain logical process of abstraction, reduces them to common principles by abstracting the particular national elements, then these common principles will constitute that Catholic tree on which the individual churches exist as separate branches of one and the same tree.

However artificial this theory may be, it found many adherents who saw in it the only way out of the contradiction between the ideal of the Catholic Church and the failure of any single existing church to correspond to it. Palmer belonged to this party. He was—to use the words of the editor of his book, Cardinal Newman, who had himself been a passionate participant in the Oxford movement—“one of those earnest and devout persons who, being deeply convinced of the great truth that the Lord had founded, and still recognizes and upholds, a visible Church—one, individual, and integral—Catholic as spread throughout the world, Apostolic as contemporary with the Apostles, and Holy as the dispenser of His word and sacraments,—thought that this Church at present exists in three main branches, or rather in a threefold form—Latin, Greek, and Anglican—these forms constituting one and the same Church, differing from one another only in secondary, accidental, and local, though important, features. And since the whole Church in its fullness is, in their view, at one and the same time and separately Anglican, Greek, and Latin, each of them in turn is the entire Church. It followed from this that when one of the three is present, the other two are, in the nature of things, absent, and therefore all three cannot stand in direct relation to one another as if they were three independent bodies, since there is no real distinction among them beyond the external mark of spatial location. Furthermore, since in their view there could be no more than one of the three churches in any given territory, it followed that Christians in general, wherever they might be, are bound to recognize and have the right to be recognized by that church in whose territory they happen at that moment to be—so that, being in Rome, they must cease to belong to the Anglican Church, and must reject Rome when they are in Moscow. Finally, not to acknowledge this inevitable corollary of the fundamental idea of the Church—namely that she is at once universal and one—would, in their opinion, betray poor logic, while to resist it would be to set altar against altar, that is, would be the dark sin of schism and sacrilege.” — “Such, in my opinion,” adds Cardinal Newman, “is the formal teaching of Anglicanism; such was the teaching we held and preached at Oxford forty years ago; and it was this very teaching that Palmer believed in deeply and championed energetically when he traveled to Russia. It was his motivating reason for going there, for he hoped to obtain from the Holy Synod (imperial Synod) such a recognition of his right to the sacraments of the Greco-Russian Church as would serve as irrefutable proof that the teaching of the Anglican theologians is not a mere theory and that an Anglican is ipso facto also Orthodox.”

And so it was with these views and purposes that Palmer set out for Russia. His journey was, so to speak, a bold attempt to apply the ideas of the Oxford movement to reality—and reality would have to pronounce its verdict on the theory itself. Since this reality was the Orthodox Russian Church, Palmer’s book is of paramount interest to us in showing how that Church, through its finest representatives whom Palmer encountered in Russia, responded to the Oxford doctrine—a doctrine that undeniably constitutes an important step in the consciousness of the Western European world in the direction of true ecclesial principles. The author’s entire book consists of an account of his theological conversations with various representatives of Russian theological thought, but it is at the same time interspersed with the author’s observations about our ecclesiastical and everyday life as it presented itself to his direct observation. And the very publication of his book by Cardinal Newman was undertaken, by the Cardinal’s own admission, not for the sake of the Anglican doctrine—which, with Newman’s conversion to Roman Catholicism, had become a dead fact for him—but for the sake of “that living picture which this book draws, for better or worse, of the Russian Church, a picture produced by the author without any effort, through his intercourse with clergy and laity and with the population at large.”

The first occasion that introduced Palmer to Orthodox Russia was a wholly exceptional circumstance. When the Oxford movement had, one might say, already reached its decisive point; when the idea of closer acquaintance with the other branches of the universal Church had ripened, in order to clarify their views on the Oxford doctrine; and when the eyes of the Oxford theologians were turned for this same purpose toward the Orthodox East—which, despite its backwardness in cultural respects, nonetheless continued to hold a certain mysterious fascination for all who sought ecclesial truth in the West—at this very time, in May 1839, the late Emperor Alexander II, who was then still heir to the throne, arrived in Oxford. Oxford seized on this occasion for its own purposes, and when the distinguished Russian guest visited the university, Palmer, who had been tasked with receiving him, presented him with a petition whose main contents were as follows:

“Although it may seem presumptuous, I nonetheless venture to present a petition to Your Imperial Highness.

It consists in the request that some Russian theologian capable of examining the theology of our churches be sent here. He might reside at Magdalen College (of which I am authorized to give notice) and I myself would teach him the English language, so that through his mediation the contents of our best books might become known to His Imperial Majesty and to the bishops of the Eastern communion. And if in time it should fall to my lot to go to Russia to study the theology and ritual of the Russian Church there, I hope I might receive the goodwill and patronage of Your Imperial Highness. Surely, if the whole Catholic Church ought to long for unity, nothing can be more worthy of the piety of a great prince than the endeavor to promote the reunion of two communions divided only through misunderstandings and lack of intercourse.

While the Church of England constantly upholds the rights of Christian sovereigns—threatened equally by the ambition of the Roman pontiff and by democratic license—she herself is at this time in great peril, being isolated in a corner of the West and threatened by the hatred of all the sects who have entered into alliance with the schismatic papists for her overthrow.

If Your Imperial Highness would graciously look upon our request with favor and feel sympathy for the afflicted condition of our churches, it would be a benefaction to the cause of public order, submission, and humility in the West; and at the same time, by furthering the union of the churches, Your Imperial Highness would bring joy to all who pray for the peace of the Christian world.

May the Most High bless the throne of the Emperor of Russia, and may all the peoples subject to him obey him as a father. May he never see the invasion of the anarchic principles of heretical Protestantism to trouble his empire and his churches; and may it be granted to him, when a favorable occasion arises, to deliver the East from the yoke of the infidels.”

It should be noted that this petition, before being presented, was carefully reviewed by the President or Warden of Magdalen College, the elderly Routh, who recommended excising from it all expressions that in any way did not befit the dignity of the Anglican Church—and among other things he took exception to the petition’s final phrase, which he found “un-English.” The petition apparently made a favorable impression on the late Emperor, whose noble and humane soul was sympathetic to any idea conducive to the establishment of peace and unity on earth; and some years after the petition was submitted, a rumor circulated at Oxford that Emperor Nicholas I had intended to establish a chair of Russian language there at the university. However, the matter was held up because he wished to reserve for himself the right to appoint the professor—which evidently conflicted with the traditional view of English universities regarding their independence, and with the well-known political suspicion of the English in such matters. So the affair came to nothing, despite the undeniably important significance of the idea. This idea, however, soon found a rather happy application when, under the influence of powerful religious movements in the West that made it necessary to become acquainted with them, Russian Orthodox churches were established in the main centers of the European world at the initiative of Ober-Procurator Count Protasov, and persons of solid theological learning were invited to serve as their rectors. These persons—among whom there were truly many worthy and, one might say, select individuals—availed themselves of the assistance and encouragement of the Ober-Procurator to render invaluable service in the matter of acquainting Russia with the state of the Western European Christian world. One can only regret that this mission of our churches abroad soon lost its original character: with the departure of the first cohort of workers, they were transformed into ordinary parish churches for the performance of rites, with ordinary clergy of the same character—in which condition they unfortunately remain to this day.

But if it was not to be that Palmer’s idea of introducing Anglican theology into the awareness of Russian theological thinkers would come to fruition, he endeavored to make up for this omission by filling the opposite side of the scheme and resolved to familiarize himself personally with the principles of Russian theological thought and ecclesiastical-religious life. With this aim he began to prepare for a journey to Russia. His idea found sympathy from the majority of the fellows of Magdalen College, of which he was a member; a special society was formed to carry out his idea. The greatest support for Palmer was rendered by the College’s Warden, Routh, in whose opinion the Anglican Church had, in essence, never rejected communion with the Eastern Church by any open or conciliar act, just as it had likewise never been excommunicated by the East. Nevertheless, the matter did not escape objections from individual members. It was in essence so novel and so historically unprepared that the very idea of it seemed to some chimerical and even somewhat offensive to the dignity of the Anglican Church, especially in view of the prejudice prevailing at the time against the Eastern Church as a soulless body. In this vein, when the question of issuing a letter of recommendation to Palmer for his departure to Russia came up at a meeting of the College fellows, one member, Sibthorpe, filed a sharp protest. “I protest, Mr. President,” he said in an agitated voice, “against this society offering any encouragement whatsoever to the idea of intercommunion with the idolatrous Greek Church.” Nevertheless, the letter was given to Palmer, and it read as follows, in the name of the College Warden:

“To all the faithful in Christ whom this letter may reach—grace, health, and salvation. Whereas it has been made known to me that one of our members, William Palmer, Master of Arts and specialist in theology, a deacon by ordination, desires to travel to Russia for ecclesiastical inquiries, I, approving and encouraging his desire, by this present letter sanction his undertaking. I wish that he, having sought permission from the most powerful and most pious Emperor, if the piety of the Emperor shall accede to his request, should present himself with all due reverence to the Russian bishops and in particular to the Most Holy Spiritual Synod, so that with their permission and assistance he may acquaint himself with the teaching, forms, and rites of the Russian Church, and study the Russian language—at some theological academy or elsewhere, as shall be judged most convenient.

I then ask and even beseech, in the name of Christ, all the most reverend archbishops and bishops and in particular the Most Holy Synod itself, that they examine him concerning the orthodoxy of his faith in a spirit of charity, and that if they find in him all that is necessary for the integrity of true and saving faith, they admit him also to communion in the sacraments.

I wish that he submit to and conform in all things to the instructions and guidance of the Russian bishops, only not affirming or doing anything that would be contrary to the faith and teaching of the British Churches.

To this letter I willingly affix my name and seal, on the 4th day of August, in the year of Christ 1840.

Martin Joseph Routh, President of the College of St. Mary Magdalen in the University of Oxford.”

Having secured—after some formal difficulties—the approval of the primate of the Anglican Church, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Palmer departed for Russia. The British ambassador to the Russian court, Lord Clanricarde, who was in London at the time, gave him several letters of recommendation to various high-ranking personages in St. Petersburg, and first of all to the Ober-Procurator of the Holy Synod, Count Protasov, of whom he remarked to Palmer in passing: “You will be surprised when you see a hussar general, in his uniform, an aide-de-camp of the Emperor, presiding over the Synod, directing the bishops, and governing the Church.”