Volume 15, No. 2
Sacred Space Reclaimed
- Details
- Volume 15, No. 2
Sacred Space Reclaimed
Alexander Smirnov
In the summer of 1989 I was drafted into military service. By the end of July that year I found myself in an Air Force boot camp in the city of Vyshni Volochek, between Saint Petersburg and Moscow. Our camp was located on the territory of a former Orthodox convent. Much later I learned that more than 1,000 nuns resided there prior to the Bolshevik Revolution.
By the time of my service, pride in the military was all but lost. My company was stationed on the second floor of the former living quarters of the nuns, opposite the skeleton of the main cathedral. And just to the right stood another, once magnificent, church. Both the church and the cathedral had lost their bells and were stripped of paint and plaster to the bare red brick. Heavy, ancient wooden church doors hung somewhat loosely, which tempted me to sneak a look inside through the cracks. The courtyard between the buildings was turned into a parade ground where we draftees spent endless hours under the watchful eye of a perpetually angry drill sergeant.
The purpose of boot camp, it seemed to me, was to occupy any given soldier every minute of every day. Our rare moments of rest were usually spent smoking in a little hut right next to the main cathedral. The fall of 1989 was warm, long, and particularly beautiful. The former convent occupied the top of a hill from which one could see for miles. I remember feeling almost pain that I had to turn away from the beauty of the forests on fire with every fall color and the endless blue of the sky to the grim reality of boot camp life, which was manifestly bleak and dull. I was, however, in for a surprise.
Once, a sergeant ordered several of us to retrieve items from storage in the nearby church. After unlocking the church doors to let us in, the sergeant left us to ourselves in the semi-darkness of the former sanctuary. Once we found what we were looking for, we decided not to hurry back. Instead, we began to explore this unfamiliar terrain with mixed feelings of awe and adventure. A few narrow rays of daylight worked their way through holes in the roof. In the odd silence of the vacant, despoiled church, we tried to joke, but the echoes of our words actually frightened us. We next came across a very thick iron chain hanging from the roof. Its far end disappeared in the thick darkness somewhere under the cupolas. I thought that perhaps a huge chandelier once hung from this chain. We could think of nothing better to do than to swing from this chain. As I climbed up, a fellow soldier grabbed the free end and pulled it as far toward the door as he could before letting go. I was flying through the darkness, breaking the silence only with the squeaking noise of the chain. When my eyes finally adjusted to the dim light, I began to see vague images on the frescoed walls, still visible if one was close enough. I cannot explain it, but suddenly I felt a strong urge to exit the church as soon as I could. We bolted out almost in a panic. Afterwards, we completed boot camp and received orders to redeploy.
In May 2006, my wife and I accompanied a friend from Moscow to Saint Petersburg for a long holiday weekend. On the way, our conversation turned to our days in the military. Since we were making good progress, we decided to make a stop at the site of my boot camp in Vyshni Volochek. As we drove up, I could not recognize the place, now restored by Orthodox nuns. On top of the hill, gleaming in the sun, stood a beautiful ensemble. As we entered, with no people in sight, I saw that our parade ground had reverted to a beautiful courtyard with attractive landscaping. And a picturesque little chapel now stands on the very spot of our former “smoking hut.” The main cathedral and the adjacent church were freshly painted. As we continued to explore the grounds on this beautiful, sunny day, we came across several nuns on horseback plowing a small field. They invited us to take the plow, but we politely declined. I did not add to my popularity when I explained that I had served in the military there. An older nun pulled out a set of keys with a sorrowful sigh and waived us toward the chapel. She opened the door and allowed us to enter. I was struck by the beautiful work of restoration. Our escort suggested that repentance was in order, as she commented on the chaos the military had left after returning the convent to the church in the 1990s. Inside the chapel we found two tombs of nuns who had glorified God with miracles and healings. We bought candles, made a contribution, and prayed. As we left, I continued to turn back to look at the restored convent’s beautiful domes set against a backdrop of blue sky. It was a wonderful feeling.
I did not have the opportunity to enter the church in which I had seen frescoes of the saints and of the Lord. Still, they may have had something to do with the way I felt as we departed my boot camp, restored to its sacred purpose. ♦
Alexander Smirnov is assistant to the president of the Russian-American Christian University, Moscow, Russia.
Zoe Knox. Russian Society and the Orthodox Church: Religion in Russia after Communism. London and New York: RoutledgeCurzon, 2005.
- Details
- Volume 15, No. 2
Zoe Knox. Russian Society and the Orthodox Church: Religion in Russia after Communism. London and New York: RoutledgeCurzon, 2005.
Reviewed by Matt Miller.
What are the social and political ambitions of the Russian Orthodox Church? What is the current relationship between the Moscow Patriarchate and the Kremlin? Is the church contributing to the development of an open society? How has the hierarchy been addressing anti-Semitism within its own ranks? Why have some reformist priests been disciplined, but others, with apparently more controversial points of view, have continued to work unhindered? Those who have asked these questions will certainly want to read this monograph on the contemporary interaction of the Russian Orthodox Church with the surrounding society, authored by Zoe Knox, a lecturer at the University of Leicester, England. This is an ambitious project which addresses several significant topics based on published research and web pages.
Knox examines the church by means of the concept of “civil society.” The author utilizes this phrase to describe three necessary conditions: 1) “a society that accommodates social self-organization independent of the state;” 2) “a state of affairs in the religious sphere characterized by interaction between different denominations and religions;” and 3) “a particular kind of dynamism within Church structures” (16). The thesis of the book is that the “unofficial Church” of reformist clergy and laypeople has contributed substantially to the development of Russia’s civil society, while Patriarch Aleksii II and the hierarchy, the “official Church,” have usually obstructed this process. For this reason Knox suggests that the Russian Orthodox Church is a “pseudo-state church” (131). The evidence she compiles makes a compelling case for this idea.
Perhaps the most valuable contribution of the book is its interweaving of accounts of noteworthy events from the past 20 years that support its thesis. These events include the adoption and implementation of the 1997 law “On Freedom of Conscience and Religious Associations,” the building of the Cathedral of Christ the Savior in Moscow, the canonization and reburial of Nicholas II and his family, Metropolitan Ioann’s xenophobia, the growth of anti-Semitism, closer ties between Patriarch Aleksii and Putin’s government, Orthodox jurisdictional conflicts in Ukraine and Estonia, and the adoption in 2000 of the “Bases of the Social Concept of the Russian Orthodox Church.” Many readers will appreciate the concise summaries of the activities of a wide range of leaders, such as Gleb Iakunin, Nikolai Eshliman, Georgii Kochetkov, Georgii Chistiakov, Veniamin Novik, Aleksandr Borisov, Dmitrii Dudko, and Aleksandr Dvorkin.
Through these accounts, Knox illustrates unexpected contradictions in religious life in Russia: “The paradoxes of the Russian Orthodox Church’s post-Soviet position are multifarious: the Patriarchate’s transition from suppressed to suppressor; the incongruity of the reformist and traditionalist agendas; Orthodoxy’s privileged position in a secular state; [and] the susceptibility of the authoritative Patriarchate to exploitation by antidemocratic forces” (184).
The book does have its limitations. First, it primarily is an in-depth synthesis of others’ research (English and Russian), offering few original insights. Conducting additional interviews, surveys, and archival research would have been very useful in strengthening the book’s arguments. Knox writes clearly, but this clarity occasionally lapses into oversimplification. For example, in summarizing the impact of Western missionaries, the author itemizes “five reasons why these nontraditional groups . . . were so attractive to Russians” (100), but leaves little room for other, more complex, explanations. Knox later suggests, incorrectly, that all Protestants reject infant baptism (159-60). Also, her work provides little insight into why the Orthodox hierarchy and reformist priests developed different views and approaches to ministry. For example, many reformist priests have drawn on the writings and experiences of émigré clergy, who had first-hand experience with the Western world. For a work addressing the development of civil society, surprisingly little attention is paid to the activities of ordinary Orthodox parishioners in philanthropic and other community-building activities. Neverthless, this significant work deserves the careful attention of those concerned with the development of society and religion in Russia. Unfortunately, the list price for this volume is high ($145 U.S. dollars), so finding a library or used copy may be necessary. ♦
Matt Miller works in Moscow with the Evangelical Free Church.
Estonia’s Singing Revolution
- Details
- Volume 15, No. 2
Estonia’s Singing Revolution
Steven Pierson
Editor’s Note: The author’s dissertation, from which this article is excerpted, identifies sources by code only. Therefore, citations to these sources are omitted.
Singing has both expressed and supported Estonian national identity, especially during the Soviet era. One musician stated, “We Estonians think that music saved our nation.” A Tallinn pastor, commenting on the nation’s song festivals held every five years, added, “I remember from my childhood there was an official program – songs about Lenin and things – but when this was over, people did not leave. Tens of thousands of people just stood there and started to sing their own songs. No police could do anything.”
The Estonian Song Festival
In 1988, during the first post-Soviet song festival, one full day of the two-day program was devoted to Christian songs. A pastor recalled, “There was a special part for singing Christian songs, and a new mass by an Estonian composer was performed. Also, people from the government were present. Some parliament members said later: ‘It was great that we could hear Christian songs at the song festival; it felt like we had been in church.” In 1988, the huge crowds that gathered at the song festival grounds served as a metaphor, symbolizing a powerful yet peaceful movement of freedom from Soviet dominance. The song festivals reflect foundational Estonian values by means of peaceful artistic expression. Immense yet quiet crowds, listening and singing together in harmony, may suggest deeper values at work, including a deep longing for peace.
In the midst of incessant war, destruction, and foreign dominance, Estonian peasants seemed to have developed a longing for peace that became a cherished value, treasured especially during the Soviet years. When the political atmosphere turned favorable, Estonians used song to express peacefully their desire for independence. Other Soviet republics resorted to armed conflicts of one kind or another. In Estonia, songs successfully carried the message and crystallized the movement. Soviet occupation, and particularly the policy of Russification, jeopardized Estonian ethnic identity. In this context, music became a special symbol, a means of survival and a movement for independence. In the “Singing Revolution,” beginning in 1988, choirs became the main symbol for political efforts to separate Estonia from the Soviet Union. One pastor explained, “There is no doubt about the importance of music. [Independence] would not have been possible without the help of music. The singing revolution has become a symbol of freedom.”
An Entire Nation in Song
The size of the movement in proportion to the ethnic Estonian population is significant. In the midst of the first steps toward independence, the rally in September 1988 attracted large numbers of Estonians. A Tallinn pastor gave this eyewitness account: “At the same square where the song festival is held, there were 600,000 Estonian people, two-thirds of the Estonian nation. The place was so completely filled that nobody could actually sit.” A revival of Christian choir music also resulted from the singing revolution. “Especially during the five years after that explosion you couldn’t even hear other music, it was just Estonian Christian music.”
Growing Western Influences
Before independence, little contact with Christians outside Estonia was possible. Since independence, Estonian churches have been open to non-Estonian influence. Music from the West has influenced worship since 1991. Of the Western countries, those interviewed named England, Finland, Sweden, and America as having the most influence. Western styles of music included American worship songs, the music of the Taize Movement, and English worship songs by Graham Kendrick.
A pastor outside Tallinn stated that Western music is artificial. Others surveyed felt that the new styles do not relate well with Estonian culture. One pastor contended that expressions of truth from different cultures often create tension. “You have this very lively way of expressing Christian truths, and sometimes when it comes into our culture, it can be a little painful.” Two pastors and one musician cited translation problems. The musician noted, “It has been easier to translate than to create our own.” A different pastor expressed the concern, “We are losing part of our uniqueness.”
One Tallinn pastor believed his congregation was approaching equilibrium. “Young people were singing a new repertoire from the West, and classical music was pushed more into the background. But by now, they have got[ten] over this time period and again, classical music is loved. So there are different kinds of music: classical, chorales, and worship songs.”
Estonians highly value choir music and festivals. The sense of unity, joy, and openness that comes through participation in choral festivals breaks down patterns of atomization, isolation, and mistrust created by Soviet policies. Those surveyed valued the national song festivals and affirmed the strength and character produced by these festivals, especially during the late 1980s. Those surveyed also understood the movement for political independence as a singing movement.
Music as a Means of Discipleship
Those interviewed spoke in detail concerning the role of music in Christian development. Themes such as courage, fellowship, support, purification, community, problem solving, resolving doubt, and developing personal convictions were said to find clarity in music. In addition, Estonian Christians spoke of the ability of music to amplify and integrate truth, aid in recall, broaden perspectives, and aid in learning theology. As may be expected, singing and worship appeared inseparable. According to those surveyed, youth work, in particular, centered in music, especially during Soviet times when traditional Western forms of youth ministry were prohibited.
Those surveyed confirmed that Soviet repression created a situation in which survival depended on the ministry of music. Professional musicians provided leadership and high standards for church music. The Oleviste Baptist Church in Tallinn functioned as an example in the performance of major Christian works, influencing many of those surveyed. Music ministry existed at this level because authorities allowed Christian young people to attend the Tallinn Academy of Music. Christian parents also encouraged children in the study of music because it was free of Soviet ideology and provided the opportunity to serve in the church.
Threats to Estonia’s Musical Tradition
Estonian Christians appeared unprepared for the freedom they suddenly experienced in the early 1990s. Financial pressures on families required increased personal income. Today, many Christians work several jobs and experience fatigue that results in decreased musical activities. Consequently, diminished involvement in and apathy toward music seem on the rise. In addition, powerful cultural and financial influences from abroad threaten to overwhelm traditional Estonian approaches to life and music. Estonian choir traditions may be jeopardized. In spite of these concerns, those surveyed believe that this period of transition will end with some sort of return to traditional forms and values.
Song festivals feature distinct rituals and traditions that reflect the characteristics of a sacred event. One of the more obvious characteristics is the ceremonial lighting of the festival torch, similar to the Olympic ceremony. The torch is borne from Tartu to Tallinn by ceremonial horse-drawn carriage. The general behavior of the crowds and the enormous popularity of the event easily suggest a departure from profane (normal) time to sacred time in which national identity is celebrated and renewed.
The invasion of Western worship music into Estonia’s deep and prophetic music culture alarms some observers. Many feel powerless to stop the process, however, because of overwhelming financial need. Musicians who spent copious amounts of time serving the church for little if any pay, now find themselves forced to maintain several jobs to survive financially. In this situation, compromising with powerful musical patterns from abroad easily becomes the path of least resistance. Many express concerns, but few can actually do anything at this point. Some even feel that the great Estonian Christian choir tradition may not survive the pressure of transition and change, and that participatory music may be eclipsed by the Western pattern of music “consumption.”
Recommendations
Significant efforts must be made to ensure the preservation and future development of Estonia’s singing culture. These efforts must include conscious resistance to the invasion of Western musical forms, which detach listeners from traditional, national singing. Perhaps one way to resist is to focus on the continued creation of Estonian music with traditional high standards, which will then be exported to the international community.
In Summary
In the midst of a chaotic transition, the Estonian church stands in a place of unique service. In a situation in which many Estonians suffer from economic and emotional pressure, the church provides a place of rest and peace from the demands of the world. The Estonian church not only can provide refuge. It also can preserve the national singing culture.
Estonia’s singing revolution was a rare, if not altogether unique, phenomenon. The capacity of Estonia’s singing culture to bring about significant political change in the face of armed occupation provides the international community with a remarkable example of peaceful change. The role of Christianity in the process also gives the universal church a unique testimony. ♦
Edited excerpt published with permission from Steven James Pierson, “We Sang Ourselves Free: Developmental Uses of Music Among Estonian Christians from Repression to Independence.” Ph.D. dissertation, Trinity International University, 1998.
See also, Steve Pierson, “We Sang Ourselves Free: Music Lessons From Estonia,” Evangelical Missions Quarterly 38 (April 2002), 314-22.
Steven Pierson teaches at Wheaton College, Wheaton, Illinois, and College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, Illinois. He plays the French horn in the DuPage Symphony Orchestra, Glen Ellyn, Illinois.
Letters to the Editor
- Details
- Volume 15, No. 2
Letters to the Editor
I thought that the article about missionary stress in Moscow and Russia [Christine Currie, “Exposure to Trauma and Stress Among Missionaries in Moscow,” 14 (Summer 2006): 9-11] was outstanding! I believe that the author hit the nail on the head. So many missionaries in Moldova deal with the same problems. Just a month or so ago I learned that two missionaries had to wait in Budapest for 40 days before they were granted Moldovan visas.
I am so glad that you publish the Report. I like the work you are doing, and I believe that the East-West Church and Ministry Report can bless many people in former Soviet states as well as those interested in Eastern Europe.
Oleg Turlac, College of Theology and Education, Kishinev, MoldovaI have been a missionary in and out of Russia since 1990. EXCELLENT COMMENTS on your East-West Church & Ministry Report 13 (Fall 2005). My thoughts: I see fewer Westerners, but more Western money going from West to East. I think this is in part due to a growing understanding on the part of the church leadership in the former Soviet Union in obtaining funds from Western sources. Internet websites and personal visits from East to West have created the flow of finances. Also, the tremendous number of emigrants from the former Soviet Union adds to funds going back to family and church.
Anonymous Missionary
Russian Public Opinion: Increasingly at Odds with Its Protestants
- Details
- Volume 15, No. 2
Russian Public Opinion: Increasingly at Odds with Its Protestants
Evgeniy Yur’evich Knyazev
In the beginning of the 1990s, when the Communist Party of the Soviet Union collapsed, Evangelical Christians received freedom to do missions. The tremendous growth in the number of churches was overwhelming, and new financial opportunities led to a distorted impression of Evangelical might. Now that more than 15 years have passed, it is time to take a new look at Protestant churches in Russia today.
At the end of 2006, the Institute for European Studies of the Russian Academy of Science published “Religious Situation in Russia in the 1990s of the 20th Century – Beginning of the 21st Century” (Report 173). D.E. Furman and K. Kaariaynen researched the attitudes of the masses toward religion after the collapse of the Communist system. Their work was based upon the results of sociological polls of the attitudes of Russians toward religion, conducted jointly by the Russian Academy of Science and the Academy of Science of Finland from 1991 to 2005.
Democracy Discredited
The results of this research should not be ignored by the Protestant community in Russia. Furman and Kaariaynen come to the conclusion that democratic tendencies in the country have been totally discredited, and that society is moving toward a stable symphony between the state and the Orthodox Church, which serves as its ideological base. The Byzantine model of Christianity can be seen as dominant throughout Russian history. Tsarist Russia was always ideologically connected to the Orthodox Church. But even under Communism the Russian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate) still remained a significant element in the conscience of the people. With the democratic reforms following the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russia found itself in a very interesting situation. The Duma passed democratic legislation for the sake of public opinion (to please Europe and the United States). But in practice, local bureaucrats acted otherwise.
In 2005-2006 Protestant attention was drawn to discussions over the introduction of the course, “Basics of Orthodox Culture,” in public schools. In addition, the Ministry of Justice sought to amend the Federal Law on Freedom of Conscience to limit missionary activity. In the end, to the relief of Protestants, the amendments were not passed, and Russian Minister of Education Andrei Fursenko proposed an alternative course, “History of World Religions,” for public schools.
Growing Negative Attitudes Toward Protestants
Yet if lawmakers were concerned with the will of the people, they would have rewritten the Constitution, and the Law on Freedom of Conscience would have been changed significantly. In this case, Protestants in Russia would have faced greater hardships because Russians’ positive attitude toward the Orthodox Church grows from year to year. Looking at some of the figures from the polls, 88 percent of respondents in 1996 said that they had a “good” or “very good” attitude toward the Russian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate). In 2005, that number increased to 95 percent. At the same time the percentage of people with a positive attitude toward Baptists was 23 percent in 1996 and 25 percent in 2005. In contrast, the negative attitude toward Orthodoxy decreased from 4 percent to 1 percent, while more than half of respondents had a negative attitude toward Baptists (45 percent in 1996 and 53 percent in 2005).
In educational matters Russian public opinion also gives preference to Orthodoxy. More than 80 percent of respondents approved the introduction of Orthodox-oriented radio and TV broadcasts. At the same time, 51 percent oppose while only 21 percent would allow, Baptists to produce such broadcasts. Still, Baptists are five points ahead of other Protestants in the issue of trust among Russians. The number of Russians who favor mandatory teaching of the basics of Orthodox faith in public schools is on the increase. In 1996, 11 percent of Russians favored mandatory study of Orthodoxy compared to 24 percent in 2005.
Declining Support for Freedom of Conscience
The attitude toward freedom of conscience is quite alarming. In 1996, 70 percent of respondents believed all religious groups in Russia should have equal rights, but in 2005 this number was down to 53 percent. And we should not forget that support for the idea that the Russian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate) should have certain privileges in Russia is on the rise with alarming speed. In 1996, 51 percent of respondents agreed with this idea, but by 2005 this number had grown to 72 percent.
In 2005, 55 percent of Russians thought that new religious groups in Russia should not be allowed to buy or construct buildings for religious purposes, and 66 percent said that they should be banned from preaching in public places. Sixty percent said that they should not publish their own printed materials. And 62 percent said that they should neither be allowed to start religious schools nor run TV broadcasts.
Furman and Kaariaynen concluded the following: “Church and State have joined forces to strengthen each other. Serious religiosity demonstrated by Vladimir Putin, without doubt, boosts his popularity. The Church confers its authority upon Putin. On the other hand, the religiosity of the President helps to strengthen the ‘Orthodox consensus’ and the role of religion as the symbol of unity because the President confers his authority upon the Church.”
This situation is a dead-end for Russian Protestants. At first it seems as if there is no way out, yet there is an assurance that Evangelical Christians should be active citizens of their own country to earn the sympathy of the masses. Here there is no talk about hypocrisy. Quite often Protestant churches are self-centered. They do not want to express their views regarding questions asked by the society. Such an approach hinders the growth of popularity of Evangelical Christians in the country. At the same time, it is evident that the current president of the Russian Evangelical Christian-Baptist Union, Yuri Kirillovich Sipko, has taken a more active position in the life of Russia. “Theos” Radio Station and Credo.Ru Internet site, initiated the broadcast of his addresses. Obviously, it is not enough, but such good beginnings should be noticed. I hope that we will be able to reach a new level of quality in the communication of our Protestant position.
In conclusion, I would like to note that Jesus did not promise his disciples that they would not face difficulties in spreading the good news. Leaving his disciples on earth, He said that all authority in heaven and on earth belongs to Him. Therefore we can respond with great courage and stand fast to face this new challenge. ♦
Translated from the Russian by Oleg P. Turlac, and published with the author’s permission. Originally posted on the Russian-language website of Kuban Evangelical Christian University: (http://www.kecu.ru/rpint.php?doc=270) and Portal-Credo (www.portal-credo.ru).
Evgeniy Yur’evich Knyazev is director of public relations at Kuban Evangelical Christian University, Krasnodar, Russia.
- Mainstream Christian History: Missing Its Second World Chapters Walter Sawatsky Missiologists Todd Johnson and Sandra Kim have noted that the “European colonial system . . . gave rise to the idea that the Christian faith is exclusively Western,” and that
- Russian Nationalist Orthodox Theology
- The Role of Evangelicals in Spiritual Reformation in Russia
- Russian Orthodox Conversions to Protestantism