Palmer’s Theological Conversation With Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow.—The Question of the Anglican Liturgy.—Grounds for Communion.—Essential Dogmas and Theological Opinions.—Palmer’s Formal Definition of the Church From the Standpoint of the Oxford Doctrine.—Philaret’s Opinion on the Articles of Anglican Faith and His Formal Reply to Palmer.—The Response of the Holy Synod.—The Inadequacy of the Anglican Theologian’s Scheme.—His Concluding Observations on Theological Thought in Russia

In his conversations with various representatives of the Russian Church, Palmer had repeatedly heard references to Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow as the supreme theological authority to whom he ought to turn for a definitive resolution of his case. Philaret’s theological renown had by that time already attained a lofty standing. In the realm of theological thought he occupied the most prominent position. His catechism, in the accuracy and clarity of its formulation of Orthodox teaching, had become the symbolic book of the Russian Church; by the power of its originality and the suppleness of its language it had become a classic work of Russian literature. All regarded him as the inspired representative of Russian theological thought, and indeed he was a great theological mind that penetrated with the ease of genius into the essence of the most difficult ecclesiastical-theological problems and gave answers to them that struck one equally by the clarity and breadth of their vision and, above all, by the precision and consistency of the Orthodox-Russian standpoint. In his numerous works, letters, and resolutions—which to this day are continually reproduced in our theological journals—there is contained an inexhaustible fund of material for characterizing this colossal intellect, which in every word offered a programme and in every thesis opened up a boundless horizon for the development of theological thought. Marked by an astonishing comprehensiveness, the theological mind of Philaret not only encompassed every aspect of the inner life of the Church, but reached far beyond its bounds: with remarkable penetration it followed the movement of thought and life throughout the entire Christian world, quickly divined its inner meaning, gave it true interpretation, and indicated the relationship it bore to the Orthodox Church. For this reason he did not lose sight of movements arising in the West in favour of rapprochement with the Orthodox East. But as a profound theologian, who understood better than others the depth of the historical and cultural layers in which the causes and roots of the division of the Christian world lie hidden, he was more cautious than all others in his attitude toward the movement in the direction of unity; and when his penetrating gaze perceived that a movement lacked sufficient inner intensity to produce any positive results, a single direct word from him would lay bare its inadequacy and expose the theological immaturity of those who, with a zeal worthy of a better cause, had laboured to sustain a fictitious movement.

The Anglican theologian was not unacquainted with these peculiarities of the mind of Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow, and therefore, one must suppose, it was not without some trepidation that he found himself before this wise hierarch when he was presented to him by Count Protasov. Between them there took place a fairly lengthy theological conversation, recorded by Palmer. The conversation was conducted in Latin. Philaret began the conversation, and precisely with the point that afforded the most material for positive theological conclusions and left the least room for fruitless verbal disputes—with the question of the liturgy. This question, both then and now, constitutes the most vital question of the Anglican Church. The liturgy is the factual exposition of the Church’s doctrine; in it the inner meaning of a confessional system is most clearly and fully reflected. This is demonstrated with striking clarity by the fate of the Anglican liturgy. Borrowed from the Roman Church, the Anglican liturgy had, since the Reformation, undergone a gradual process of alteration; with the penetration of Protestant principles into the Anglican Church, it became ever more Protestantized and finally arrived at its present form, which presents a kind of pitiful wreckage of the ancient liturgy, deprived of the vital nerve of liturgical worship. This state of the liturgy in the Anglican Church at the present time is a subject of serious concern to all thoughtful theologians of that Church, and in the American Episcopal Church there is a strong movement for the restoration of the ancient form of the liturgy, a movement headed by the well-known Bishop Young of Florida, who recently published in the organ of the Episcopal Church (The American Church Review) a series of articles on the question of restoring the ancient form and inner meaning of the Anglican liturgy. What Anglican theological thought has arrived at only now was already clear to Metropolitan Philaret fifty years ago, and in his conversation with Palmer he drew attention above all to this aspect of the matter.

“I am very glad to see you,” he said to Palmer, “and to hear that your Church sympathizes with unity and reveres antiquity”—and then, in order to test this claim, he turned to the question of the Anglican liturgy and its relation to the liturgies of the Orthodox Church. “Our liturgies,” he said, “are the most ancient; the Latin Church has in many points altered its liturgy for the worse, having omitted, for instance, the invocation of the Holy Spirit; we in the East, however, hold firmly to the apostolic tradition and the example of our Lord—both as regards the quality of the bread (ἄρτος, and not ἄζυμος) and the unity of the bread.” Palmer replied that in this they were in agreement with the East, whereupon the Metropolitan again expressed his satisfaction: “I am glad to hear that you now revere antiquity,” he said. This remark touched upon the sorest point of Anglicanism, which struggles helplessly between a platonic love for the ancient ecclesiastical tradition and its actual violation thereof, as the Anglicans themselves acknowledge. Lord Clanricarde, who was at that time the English minister at the Russian court in Petersburg, said to his Russian friends about the Anglican Church: “If you read the books of many of our first-rate theologians, you would think there is no difference, or very little, between our Church and yours. The same is true if you look at our service books. But if you were in England and entered our churches, you would find none of this. You cannot imagine to what degree they are stripped bare and devoid of beauty, and how lifeless and colourless the services and rites in them have become. All this has been brought to such a pass that they have become objects of contempt in our own eyes.” In defence of his Church Palmer hastened to reply: “Our Church,” he said, “has always preferred to follow antiquity, and, together with her Thirty-Nine Articles of faith, made it obligatory for all her clergy in 1571 — ut ne quid unquam pro concione doceant, quod a populo religiose teneri et credi velint etc. — to preach nothing concerning faith save that which is contained in Holy Scripture and which the universal Fathers and ancient bishops have gathered therefrom.” — “This is an excellent rule,” both the Metropolitan and the Ober-Procurator said with one voice; and encouraged by this, Palmer observed that in two of the three liturgies in use among Anglicans certain corrections had been made in the spirit of antiquity—the oblation of gifts and the invocation of the Holy Spirit following the recitation of Christ’s words had been restored. On the question of the origin of the Anglican liturgies, Palmer replied that they were for the most part borrowed from the Roman Church, especially from the time of the Norman and Anglo-Saxon dominion; but before this, and specifically up to the end of the sixth century, the British churches had had their own liturgies, just as the French and Spanish churches had had theirs. The history of the Anglican liturgy gave occasion for a comparison of it at various periods of its existence, and in the course of this there emerged the fact that at the present time essential parts which had formerly formed part of it had been omitted—for example, prayers for the departed. This fact could serve as an eloquent indication of the alteration in the very character of the Anglican Church’s doctrine, and from it one could conclude that the Anglican Church at present does not acknowledge prayers for the departed. Palmer replied to this that, although these prayers had been omitted from the liturgy, they were not rejected or condemned, and in exceptional cases are included in the liturgy, and this question had even been the subject of a judicial decision. The reason why these prayers, which had formerly formed part of the service book, were subsequently omitted, lay, in Palmer’s view, in the fact that in the popular mind they were associated with the doctrine of purgatory, which had led to so many abuses in church life. “That political freedom of which you enjoy in England,” said both Russian interlocutors of the Anglican theologian, “does not appear to be very favourable to ecclesiastical humility and discipline.” “No,” replied Palmer with fervour, “it is a diabolical freedom, and every political rebellion proceeds from the root of religious rebellion. He who has risen up against his God will not scruple to rise up against his sovereign.”

In order to pass more quickly to the main question, Count Protasov asked Palmer to set forth the grounds on which he was seeking admission to communion with the Orthodox Church, and he said: “In the Creed we confess that the Church is one, and we believe in the unity of the Church.” This formula expressed the essence of the Oxford doctrine, but it was so general that it gave no concrete representation of the matter, “and the Metropolitan observed that the Church ought to be one, but that in reality this is not the case”; and when Palmer said that the existing division is wicked and lamentable, the Metropolitan agreed with him, adding that “unity is, without doubt, very desirable.” Palmer went on to elaborate his views on the communion of churches and said: “Our Church has never excommunicated the Greek churches, nor the Latin churches of the continent; we excommunicate only those Latins who are in England and in Ireland, in Greece and in Russia—we excommunicate them as schismatics.” Such a view seemed to Philaret insufficiently clear, and he said he could not understand it. “The Latins,” he objected, “wherever they may be, are one and the same with the Latins of the continent. If communion can be had with them outside the bounds of your country, then they must be in unity with you at home as well. If you excommunicate them at home, then they must be excommunicated everywhere.” This objection is entirely correct from the Orthodox standpoint, but it did not take into account the essence of the Oxford doctrine, from the standpoint of which Palmer was conducting his negotiations on the union of churches, and therefore he continued: “Yes, if they were heretics; but we excommunicate them at home not as heretics but as schismatics. A layman among us can hold all the errors of papism as theological opinions, however much they may be censured by our Church, and he will not be excommunicated for this, provided only he does not by an overt act manifest rebellion against ecclesiastical authority.” This remark led to a serious question about the freedom that the Church may permit her members within the bounds of her jurisdiction, and here a difference of views between the Russian and Anglican theologians became apparent. The former observed that such freedom as Palmer had indicated cannot be admitted in the Church, since communion requires the strictest unity of faith; but the Anglican theologian continued to develop his thought in this direction. “In essence such freedom may have its place, but in practice such a case can scarcely arise, since a person who held all the Roman errors would of course hold among them the doctrine of the necessity of communion with Rome. There is no doubt, as Your Grace says, that communion requires the strictest unity of faith; but then there arises the question, what exactly is faith in its essence, and our Church makes a great distinction between that faith which everyone must hold wholly and unswervingly, and secondary theological opinions which are neither essential dogmas if they are true, nor heresies if they are false. We believe that there are fundamentals in doctrine and faith.” The Metropolitan stood his ground and said that the Church must be perfectly united in faith; but Palmer continued: “Right or wrong, our Church makes such a distinction. We have never accused the papists of formal heresy. Beyond the bounds of necessary faith we must therefore attend not so much to the identity of opinion as to the legitimacy of the local altar or see, distinguish in every part of the world the true Church and promote its unity.”

The question that had been raised was so serious that it could scarcely be resolved definitively in a single verbal conversation. Philaret, standing firmly on the ground of strict orthodoxy, naturally denied the distinction admitted by Palmer between essential dogmas and secondary opinions, since such a distinction did not correspond to the organic wholeness of Orthodoxy, where everything stands in such close connection with everything else that a disturbance at one point leads to confusion throughout the entire ecclesiastical organism; and moreover such a distinction may introduce arbitrariness into the Church’s doctrine and raises the question of who is vested with the right to determine what in the Church’s doctrine is essential and what is not. Nonetheless, such a distinction cannot be entirely denied either. “No Church has ever denied such a distinction, and none can do without it,” as Palmer said, illustrating this position with examples from church history. To deny it would be to deny all freedom in the sphere of ecclesiastical-religious worldview, which would be contrary to one of the essential principles of Orthodoxy, by which, with the unchanging firmness of the fundamental dogmas established by the voice of the universal Church, broad freedom of private opinion is admitted as a necessary condition for the progressive development of the ecclesiastical-religious worldview. For this reason Philaret could not but agree with the Anglican theologian’s position and admitted the possibility of a distinction between essential dogmas and secondary theological opinions, although he qualified this agreement with the observation that among the latter some are of such great significance in the system of dogmatics, so closely connected with the essential dogmas and practically so inseparable from them, that to tolerate them in an individual member of the Church would be incompatible with unity of communion or faith.

“So you are, then, a universalist,” Count Protasov said to Palmer—“you admit both Latin and Greek saints alike.” — “Of course I do,” Palmer replied, and the Metropolitan observed that the Council of Florence had been ready to do the same.

All of Palmer’s ideas noted above have an organic connection with the general concept of the Church worked out by the Oxford school. The particular features of this concept appear in every word and proposition of the Anglican theologian, but for a full and clear understanding of the essence of the Oxford doctrine concerning the idea of the Church, a precise formal definition of the Church was still lacking. For this reason the Ober-Procurator asked Palmer to set forth to the Metropolitan his own definition of the visible Church, and he did so as follows: “The one visible Catholic Church on earth, the true continuation and representative of the Church founded in Jerusalem on the Day of Pentecost, is at present, on account of differences concerning secondary matters, divided into three local parts, all in agreement in the substance of the faith: namely the Orthodox Eastern Church and the Western Church, the latter being further subdivided into the Continental and the British. Within their respective spheres each has original and legitimate jurisdiction. If, however, on account of actual disagreements between them, any bishop of one of them endeavours to draw Christians away from the other two in order to organize out of them separate parishes of his own confession—thereby making points of difference into points of essential faith—then we say that these new parishes are schismatic.”

“So you maintain that the Eastern, Latin, and British churches constitute one?” remarked Philaret.

“Yes,” replied Palmer, “each within its original sphere—no otherwise.”

“I do not understand this. Do many among you hold such a theory?” asked the Metropolitan, who had been interested by the original view of the Church.

“Your Eminence,” replied Palmer, “this is not a theory, but that definition of the visible Church which has its place in the prayers and formal acts of our Church and has in its favour the general testimony of our theologians.”

“All this is material for some future council, but it cannot be discussed with private individuals,” said Philaret, and then continued: “Your language is fairly appropriate to the fourth century, but it is out of place in the present state of the world. Of course the desire for unity of communion is very good and praiseworthy; one must hope that these sentiments will become general, and then in due time the necessary measures may be taken by the authorities on both sides. In the present state of things, however, we cannot deal with private individuals. As matters stand, there is in any case a division.”

This verdict was rather decisive for the practical application of the Anglican theologian’s scheme. It clearly did not conform to Philaret’s strictly Orthodox standpoint; but he was in any case interested in the question itself and expressed a wish to familiarize himself more closely with the symbolic book of Anglicanism—the well-known Thirty-Nine Articles of faith. Palmer offered them to him for reading together with his own introduction to them. At their next meeting the Most Eminent Metropolitan said to him: “I have read your introduction, and I think it is far more Orthodox and far more in conformity with the teaching and spirit of the Eastern Church than are the Articles themselves which it discusses. They contain many erroneous propositions which cannot be accepted by us.” Palmer was himself well aware of this and in his introduction had endeavoured as far as possible to smooth over the rough patches in his Church’s symbolic book. But a fact remained a fact. His introduction was his own personal production, while the Articles were a church document. In reply to the last observation of His Eminence Philaret, he nonetheless tried to establish a more favourable perspective on his Church’s Articles than was warranted by their plain inner content.

“Our Church,” he said, “certainly assumed that her Articles would be received and interpreted in a Catholic and Orthodox sense, since that same synod which accepted them and made them binding upon the clergy also established the following rule: that preachers must carefully endeavour never to preach in their discourses anything to be held and believed by the people on religious grounds, save that which is in accordance with Holy Scripture of the Old and New Testaments, and which the universal Fathers and ancient bishops have gathered therefrom.” The Anglican theologian’s reply had the tone of a desire to justify his Church’s symbolic book at all costs; but Philaret was unyielding. “All I can say to this,” he said, “is that this rule of your Church is far better than her Articles of faith, and ought to be printed together with them. Union is, of course,” he added, “very desirable, but given the difficulties that stand in the way, it would be exceedingly difficult to achieve.”

Some time later Palmer received from His Eminence Philaret, through the intermediary of A. N. Muravyov, a written response, which is transmitted in the Anglican theologian’s notes only in brief extract. In this response it was stated that whoever desired to receive communion from a diocesan bishop must submit absolutely and without reservation to the doctrine, discipline, and rites of the Orthodox Church; but that to permit union or reunion with any concession or condition whatsoever, however small, lay beyond the authority of a diocesan bishop and could be permitted only by the Synod.

This final verdict pronounced by His Eminence Philaret upon Palmer’s scheme is entirely correct. As a diocesan bishop, the Metropolitan of Moscow could officially make only such a response. Palmer, as a private individual and a private member of the Anglican Church, could not in his eyes be considered an authorized representative of his Church; in his voice Philaret could see no voice of his Church, and therefore, in essence, could not enter into serious consideration with him of the question of establishing communion between the churches, since this question is subject to deliberation by legally and openly appointed organs furnished with certain powers on behalf of the Church. As a private individual, Palmer could be admitted to communion with the Orthodox Church only on the general terms for the reception of non-Orthodox Christians—that is, on condition of an absolute renunciation of the errors of Anglicanism and an equally complete acceptance of the truths and forms of Orthodoxy. The correctness of this verdict was confirmed also by the formal response of the Holy Synod, to which Palmer had likewise addressed a petition for admission to communion with the Orthodox Church, though in doing so he presented, in order to give greater weight to his case, a letter from a Scottish bishop. The Holy Synod replied to his petition that “since the British Church has expressed by no conciliar act its intention to restore the communion with our Church that was lost—through the rejection of all opinions contrary to our doctrine—and since the letter of one bishop and the petition of one deacon, representing only private opinions, are not subject to Synodal consideration, the Synod cannot admit Palmer to communion with the Orthodox Church except in the manner established for the reception of non-Orthodox Christians.”

The response of the Holy Synod contained not only a negative decision on Palmer’s case as a private individual, but also a formal repudiation on its part of the validity of the Oxford doctrine. The essence of this doctrine lay in the theory according to which the one Catholic Church was held to exist in three branches, represented by the Orthodox, Latin, and Anglican churches. Each of them in its entirety is equally the holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. Although they are divided from one another spatially and hierarchically, between them there continually exists a bond that is spiritual and organic; and if this bond had not found expression in actual historical facts, this was only owing to a historically formed misunderstanding. Palmer personally wished to remove this misunderstanding. He had come to Russia with the aim of demonstrating in fact that, while being a member of the Anglican Church in the spatial and hierarchical sense, he was at the same time spiritually a member of the Eastern Church as well, and therefore was just as Orthodox as all members of the Orthodox Church. His conviction of the truth of his doctrine went so far that he did not even anticipate the possibility of its being doubted or denied; and therefore he was naively astonished when the first Russian Orthodox priest to whom he applied with a request to be received into sacramental communion as an Orthodox Christian first demanded from him a renunciation of the errors of Anglicanism. All subsequent reality at every step made plain to him that the Oxford doctrine had not arisen from the universal consciousness of the Church, but was a simple local teaching that had arisen as a consequence of the particular historically formed conditions of the life of the Anglican Church, and therefore appeared as a teaching utterly foreign to the spirit of the Orthodox Church, which stands firmly upon the ancient universal foundations and does not wish to compromise them in favour of any artificially constructed or local and particular theories.

Summarizing the results of his observations on the ecclesiastical-religious life and theological thought in Russia, Palmer wrote in his letter addressed to the President of Magdalen College, Dr. Routh, that in Russia the Anglican Church is almost entirely unknown and is commonly placed on the level of ordinary Protestant communities. The Russian clergy, by his account, holds so firmly to its integral ecclesiastical-religious worldview that it does not draw, or does not wish to draw, a distinction between the substance of the faith and secondary matters, nor between what is essentially necessary and what is necessary only out of obedience to ecclesiastical authority, whether local or universal. It lacks sufficient clarity in the definition of the visible Church, but is either liberally diffuse or, on the contrary, narrowly exclusive, so that upon the reception of individual members from non-Orthodox communities it requires them to anathematize as soul-destroying heresies alike—the errors of the papists, the Lutherans, and the Calvinists. Russian theological thought, in his view, has not worked out a clear distinction between apostolic churches that hold the substance of the faith—such as the Roman and the Anglican—and other purely heretical communities, such as, for example, the Nestorian; nor does it distinguish the Orthodox Church, which exists in its own territory and has there its legitimate jurisdiction, from those churches which intrude into alien territories, produce schisms, and set altar against altar. Finally, the Russian Orthodox Church, by his account, is extremely fearful of taking any step that might trouble the consciences of the Uniates, of the Austrian Slavs of the Greek rite, of the uneducated Russian peasant masses, of the Old Believers, or of the Greeks of the Levant. And such a step, in its view, would be precisely the admission of an Anglican to sacramental communion without his renunciation of the errors of Anglicanism.

The whole body of factual material on which Palmer bases this generalization regarding the ecclesiastical-religious worldview of the Russian Orthodox Church has been set out in the preceding articles with such fullness that there appears to be no particular need to subject these conclusions to any critique. We shall only observe that Russian theological thought has indeed, as Palmer says, not yet worked out a sufficiently clear definition of the visible Church—clear and precise enough to establish at once both the characteristic marks of the Orthodox Church and her relationship to all non-Orthodox churches. The absence of such a clear definition is a constant source of misunderstanding in her relations with non-Orthodox churches and gives rise to that instability of theological thought by which it inclines now in the direction of Romanism, now in the direction of Protestantism, as has been noted more than once in the present articles. But on the other hand, the idea of the Orthodox Church lives in the inner consciousness of the Church herself and her representatives with such historical definiteness that it is fully sufficient to apply critical rigour to various conditional theories and schemes—as indeed happened to the scheme of the Englishman Palmer.