Can the Orthodox Church in Russia Forge a New Path?
originally published on publicorthodoxy.org
“There may not be disagreements inside the body, but each part may be equally concerned for all the others. If one part is hurt, all the parts share its pain. And if one part is honored, all the parts share its joy.” (1 Cor. 12:25-26).
The responsibility of the Moscow Patriarchate for the ongoing Russo-Ukrainian war is an obvious fact. Likewise, it is obvious that after the end of the war and the fall of Putinism, it will find itself in a deep crisis. Having identified itself with Putin’s political regimen, the Patriarchate is bound to share in the consequences of its collapse.
However, some other presumptions also look obvious. In one configuration or another, Russia will remain, and so will the community of its believers. This community, although being divided, like the Russian society itself, will largely remain a reservation, where the Putinist doctrines will be guarded and conserved.
What will be the future for the Church in the new society? Is there any other option for it, except for being an isolated leper house that has discredited itself and has no right to claim any public presence and influence?
I believe that this is not the only way possible. However, if the Church will return to what it is by its nature, it can only do so through the same doors through which it has left.
The first task for the Church is recovering the memory of itself to become what it truly is.
Memory, Guilt and the Future Responsibility of the Church
Today, instead of preserving the memory of its past, the institutional Church has chosen to play its part in the construction of the civil religion, which, as a response to the post-Soviet identity crisis, aimed to sacralize the anti-Christian Soviet period of Russian history. It is being presented not simply as being compatible with Christianity, but forming a synthesis of communism and Orthodoxy, culminating in the cult of the war and victory as their meeting point.
For example, at the recent conference in Moscow titled “Holy War: Transfiguration of Russia,” Metropolitan Kirill of Stavropol, Head of the Synodal Department for Cooperation with the Armed Forces and Law Enforcement, said that according to the state-wide census of 1937, the vast majority of the country considered itself to be Orthodox Christians. He gave further examples: Marshal Zhukov took his daughter to St. Sergius Lavra during the persecutions of the Khrushchev era, Marshal Chuykov at the battle of Stalingrad had a prayer folded into his Communist Party membership card, while the General Staff was under the charge of Alexander Vasilevsky, a former seminarian and a son of a priest. Zoya Kosmodemyanskaya, an iconic partisan war hero, was a granddaughter of a priest, and General Karbyshev helped to save St. Sergius Lavra from closure in the 1930’s.
The Soviet Orthodox narrative is formed by myths. The fairy tale “Stalin and Matrona” has been circulating for a long time, as well as legends about the procession with the Tikhvin Icon of the Mother of God around besieged Leningrad, carried out on the orders of Metropolitan Elijah of Mount Lebanon; or about the flight around Moscow in December 1941 with the Kazan Icon of the Mother of God; the appearance of the Mother of God in Stalingrad on November 11, 1942; the appearance of the Mother of God on the Kursk Bulge on July 12, 1943 before the battle on Prokhorovskoye Field; and so on. It is precisely the narrative of Russia being in a state of permanent battle with the evil that serves as the ideological backup of the present war. It is the affirmation that both the Church and the state are the descendants of the winners, which is the ideological fuel for both of them.
Obviously, this triumphant narrative of national pride leaves little space for national shame. The prohibition of the Memorial has been a necessary condition to start the war and to begin the new wave of repressions that have inevitably followed. The unauthorized removal of the “Last Addresses” plaques, commemorating the homes of the repressed Soviet citizens, by pro-Putin activists has become a commonplace in many cities in Russia. An unofficial campaign of the removal of the monuments to the victims of the political repressions has been launched. The fate of Yury Dmitriev, the guardian of Sandarmokh, we all remember. Officially the Patriarchate does not take part in all this. However, its characterization of the Stalinist regime as the katechonic force, delivering the world from the dominion of evil, definitely contributes to the mainstream narrative.
If the Russian state is sacred by its nature, then the Church must be obedient to it no matter what. Alexander Schipkov, the deputy head of the Synodal information department, insists that patriarch Sergius Stargorodsky, the author of the famous “Declaration” of 1927, should be proclaimed a saint. Obviously, it is not the person who will be canonized, but the principle of the total loyalty of the Church to the anti-Christian state.
No homework has been done. To give an example, according to Jane Ellis, the two people testifying in the Soviet court against Fr. Gleb Yakunin, who was sent to jail in 1980, were Alexey Osipov, the professor of the Moscow Spiritual Academy, and Fr. Iosif (Pustoutov), who worked in the Department of the External Relations of the Moscow Patriarchate.[1] Today, Osipov remains a prominent and respected professor of the Academy, and Fr. Iosif has long been serving the Moscow Patriarchate parishes in Germany.
Paradoxically, this ideology of struggle against Nazism and neo-Nazism has little room for the real Orthodox antifascists. The name of Alexander Schmorell, a member of the “White Rose” executed in 1943 and canonized by ROCOR in 2012, is practically unknown In Russia. This has an easy explanation. His image shatters into dust the classic patriotic notion that when a country is at war, when “our boys” are dying, any resistance to that war is treason, and anyone who resists it is a Judas. Shmorell rocks the boat, pours water on the enemy’s mill, challenges the people’s unity, discredits the army; he is a national traitor. The name of Mother Maria Skobtsova, martyred in Ravensbrüсk, has also not been included in the official liturgical calendar of the Moscow Patriarchate.
I was told a story about bishop in Belarus. When he was installed in 2021, there were some icons of the new martyrs in the cathedral. In 2022, he ordered some of them to be removed and the printed reproductions to be burnt. Obviously, a visual image of the totalitarian state persecuting the faithful would be too direct an allusion to the society of today.
It is hardly surprising that Moscow Patriarchate has not advocated for today’s political prisoners, many of whom are Orthodox Christians and are clearly motivated by their faith, like Vladimir Kara-Murza, recently exchanged for a Kremlin killer. For its anti-war clergy, the Patriarchate itself became a repressive body.
This attitude is hardly compatible with the memory of the new martyrs, as one of the most important witnesses in the history of the Church. However, preserving their memory is not enough. The institutional Church has to accept its historic responsibility not only during the Soviet period, but also the earlier history and the crisis of Russian society that led to the Revolution. We must realize that we are not only victims, but we must also accept responsibility.
According to a testimony from the 1920’s, Metropolitan Kirill (Smirnov) said to Patriarch Tikhon, who, trying to explain his compromise with the authorities, said that he could not live in peace, knowing how his fellow bishops were languishing in prison. “Do not think of us, Your Holiness,” Metropolitan Kirill answered him. “We are only fit to sit in prisons.” These were the words of someone who was ready to accept responsibility for the situation when the believers raised by the Church turned into the persecutors.
Thus, the task of the Church in Russia after the war is to confront the questions of guilt and responsibility both before the Revolution, in the Soviet time, and today. We have to understand why what so many of us said to be a “church renaissance” has been a step to a moral catastrophe.
We must do the homework. The doctrines of “holy war,” of the “Russian world,” of Russia throughout its history being the Pauline katechon (2 Thess. 2.7) emerged long before February 2024. Today these teachings are professed by the Patriarch and other z-preachers more openly than ever before. The doctrine of the “Russian World,” elaborated in the end of the 1990s as a peaceful alternative to the “identity of shame,” which resulted out of frustration after the fall of the USSR, has been taken on by Kremlin to explain the need to expand the country, and, being sacralized by the Moscow Patriarchate, became a fundamental form of defense for the present invasion of Ukraine. Following the statement of Patriarch Kirill that the sins of a soldier killed on a battlefield are forgiven, the Russian bishops proclaim that their death is equal to that of martyrs. No exception is made even for liberated criminals, including pedophiles and cannibals, who are widely recruited into the army. These doctrines are a major theological challenge, and far more dangerous than the heresies of the past, but the vast majority of the Orthodox world remains silent. These doctrines need meticulous deconstruction and condemnation on the universal Orthodox level.
The future response of the institutional church to accusations is already clear. They will say something like: “We were under enormous pressure of the state. We had to preserve liturgical life in the given circumstances. No-one who has found a safe refuge in the West has a moral right to judge us.”
It is clear that the Patriarchate, like the society, will have to be subject to denazification and lustration. But is it capable of any positive contribution?
Russia and Post-War Germany
I believe that the experience of the Churches of post-war Germany may be relevant for the Moscow Patriarchate. However, the differences between the two situations are clear and are not to Russia’s credit. Let us look closer at the differences and the similarities.
The similarities are obvious, first of all, in the ideology of Germany then and Russia today. The German Sonderweg has been compared to the “Russian Idea,”[2] which undergone transformed into the “Russian World,” ultimately resulting in the belief in the messianic character of the German/Russian nation. The zeal for national greatness and superiority, opposition to liberal democracy, the militarization of society, the ideology of the besieged fortress, and the cult of heroic death are also shared characteristics. Likewise, there is also the belief in the spiritual nature of authority, which is “God-given.” While Ivan Ilyin, a Russian philosopher in exile, often quoted by Putin, glorified Italian and German fascism, Alexander Dugin, today’s leading war ideologist, directly imports political concepts and notions from the 1930s Nazi Germany into today’s Russia.
However, the differences are also clear.
In the first place, by the time of the installation of the Nazi regime, German society was predominantly Christian, unlike the Russian post-Soviet pre-war society.
In the second place, post-war Germany was under external occupation. It is highly unlikely, although not impossible in case of the global nuclear conflict, that Russia will find itself in the same position.
In the third place, both the Evangelical and the Catholic Church in Germany found itself in different levels of compromise with the Nazi state, but the state was capable of producing its own ideology. The division was between the Christian groups who thought that the ecclesiastical institutions and structures had to survive and to be secured and those who did not think it necessary. In this sense, their situation was more similar to that of the Church in Russia in the early Soviet time than to the contemporary situation. A parallel may be seen between the post-revolutionary years in Russia and the Catholic Church in Germany, which underwent a shift from the confrontation with the National Socialist movement before it came to power to a compromise with it in the 1930s. I wonder if one can compare the concordat between the Vatican and Berlin, signed on July 20, 1933, with the “Declaration” signed by Metropolitan Sergius on July 29, 1927. The situation in the USSR was nevertheless much graver. The concordat secured the rights of the Church, but the Declaration did not. In any case, the Church was not central to the production of the Nazi or communist ideologies. Today, things are even worse. The Moscow Patriarchate does not simply subordinate itself to the state but also contributes to the construction of militant ideology in a way that is sincere and cannot be suspected of double-thinking.
In the fourth place, in today’s Russia, it is difficult to speak of any systematic anti-Putinist Christian movement. Germany was in a better position. There was active Christian resistance within German territory, mainly on behalf of the clergy. Beside Germany itself, the German Christian resistance was prominent in emigration: in Scandinavia, Switzerland, Latin America, the USA, and even the USSR, where in 1943, a committee “Free Germany” was formed. For both Catholics and Protestants, it has been used as a platform to address their compatriots through radio and leaflets. One of the central themes was the national leader, who was ready to sacrifice any quantities of his citizens to defend his dictatorship, as well as his simulated piousness. On December 17, 1943, both Evangelical and Catholic leaders of the committee addressed the German nation with a call to repentance. An important part of the message was the responsibility of the churches for the national catastrophe. The leadership of the German Evangelical Church was declared to be insolvent. The committee called for the Church to be itself, always putting obedience to God in first place, not obedience to the state.
After the war, it was the stance of the Confessing Church which became the foundation for the reconstruction and the reintegration of the German Church into the global Christian community. This will be the path of the Russian Church, but a different level of interaction with the other Christian communities will be needed, far greater than what we call “ecumenism” today. The measure to which a Church identifies itself with a universal Christian community is the measure to which it cannot be instrumentalized by the authorities.
Accepting moral responsibility in Germany has been a long process, which has lasted well into the present. Some Germans belonging to elder generations would still believe that the war was inevitable to prevent the dangers from the East and from the West. According to the Russian scholar Liudmila Brovko, before, during, and after the war, it was the issue of patriotism that was the Achilles’ heel of the German Christians. They saw their loyalty to the state as a fundamental civil and religious virtue. How can one go wrong in being loyal to one’s country? According to her, it was this notion that prevented most Germans from resisting the false doctrine and even from recognizing their guilt and responsibility even when the war was over.[3] Questioning patriotism as a principal religious and civil virtue will be one of the key challenges.
So, we see that the Moscow Patriarchate, weakened by the Soviet state, is not able to produce a nucleus equal to the “Confessing church” or the “Confessing front” in Germany. Nevertheless, the task is the same. In Germany, the voice of a minority became the mainstream discourse in the post-war period. The same should happen in Russia.
The Stuttgart declaration of 1945 stated: “We are with our people in a large community of suffering, but also in a solidarity of guilt. We accuse ourselves for not standing to our beliefs more courageously, for not praying more faithfully, for not believing more joyously, and for not loving more ardently.”
I ask myself a question. The Barmen declaration was signed back in 1934 and stated, among other things, that the faith of the Church “is continually and systematically thwarted and rendered ineffective by alien principles, on the part of the leaders and spokesmen of the “German Christians”, and by the church leadership. When these principles are held to be valid, the church ceases to be the church.” Was it this declaration which made the Stuttgart declaration possible, and gave the morally compromised Church a right to speak after the war has ended?
If this is true, may we say that the letter demanding an immediate ceasefire, which came out on March 1 2022 and was signed by some 300 priests, leaves a door open for the Russian Church to speak out in the future?
The Russian Church, like the society itself, has a healthy segment that will have to take on the responsibility for its future. Of course, when we speak about the Church, we are not speaking about the clergy. Some prominent opposition leaders, as we have said, openly confess themselves to be Orthodox Christians.
But one open letter cannot be enough. This is why our Mir Vsem Foundation is so important.
Mir Vsem: A Beacon of Hope amid Persecution
The Mir Vsem (Peace Unto All) Foundation was established when it became clear that the persecution of anti-war priests in Russia had become systematic. At the time, around ten priests were sanctioned for refusing to recite the prayer for the “victory of Holy Rus’” and for publicly opposing the so-called “holy war.” Founders Fr. Valerian Dunin-Barkovsky, journalist Svetlana Neplikh-Thomas, musician Pavel Fakhritdinov, and I recognized the urgent need for action.
Today, Mir Vsem provides direct assistance or coordinates it to around thirty priests, most of whom have been targeted for refusing to recite this infamous prayer. A stark example is the case of Fr. Ioann Koval, who was defrocked for changing the word “victory” to “peace.” Some of the priests supported by the foundation have fled Russia, while others remain, some of them anonymously, preferring to protect themselves and their families.
In 2023, Public Orthodoxy published my article “Martyrdom Without Miracles,” which highlighted how divisions can arise in a church community over whether Christians are truly being persecuted. For us, the persecution of clergy driven by their faith is clear, and they need help.
Initially, the foundation’s primary goal was financial aid for these priests and their families. But Mir Vsem has always been about more than just money. We aim to provide these courageous priests with a sense of solidarity—especially for those in remote regions, cut off from their peers. We also give them a platform to make their voices heard. Through our Telegram channel and video sermons featured on NO Media, run by Nobel Prize winner Novaya Gazeta, these priests speak to thousands, amplifying the voices of those who are silenced.
When the manifest of the “World Russian People’s Council” came out, three priests affiliated with Mir Vsem spoke out, subjecting it to severe criticism.
Our foundation has also exposed the mechanisms of political repression within the Russian Orthodox Church. When one priest was called before the diocesan disciplinary commission for refusing to recite the “prayer for Holy Rus’,” we published the recorded proceedings, revealing how canon law is being used as a tool of political control.
Through these efforts, we’ve shown the world that the Russian Orthodox Church is not a monolith, wholly supporting Putinism and the war. Priests like Fr. Vadim Perminov have become heroes, with documentaries like The Suspended reaching hundreds of thousands of viewers. The narrative of Russian priests resisting the war has gained attention, and every major Russian-speaking opposition outlet has covered their stories.
This support is crucial for anti-war Russians, especially Orthodox Christians, many of whom have stopped attending church or participating in public worship. Letters and comments on our videos show that for many, Mir Vsem is their only remaining connection to the Church.
Our challenges, however, are significant. Registering Mir Vsem in Germany is a long process, and for now, we rely on platforms like GoFundMe to raise funds. Direct transfers to Russia from Europe and the USA are impossible. Most critically, our aid is more tactical than strategic—we want to offer long-term support, whether a priest remains in Russia or flees abroad. We aim to help them achieve financial independence, especially during the transition to new careers.
There is a theoretical path for defrocked priests to appeal to the Ecumenical Patriarchate and be received by other jurisdictions, but so far, there’s been only one case, and future prospects remain unclear. It’s vital for the broader Orthodox Church to create a roadmap for clergy persecuted for refusing to endorse nationalist, militaristic doctrines.
The history of post-war Germany shows us that the voice of a persecuted minority can serve as a guiding light for a nation—and a Church—seeking redemption after the fall of a dictatorship. Just as the Confessing Church played a key role in resisting Nazi ideology and later helped shape Germany’s moral rebirth, the voices of the persecuted Russian clergy could serve as a foundation for renewal and healing within the Russian Orthodox Church.
In this sense, the Orthodox world needs Mir Vsem as much as we need its support. The struggle of these priests offers a mirror for global Orthodoxy to reflect on its own moral commitments, its role in upholding truth, and its responsibility to confront state-sanctioned distortions of the faith.
The broader Orthodox community is called to:
1. Recognize the contemporary threats to Orthodox doctrine, including the dangers of conflating nationalism with Christian theology;
2. Show solidarity by helping the persecuted, offering material, moral, and spiritual support to those who stand against this distortion of the faith;
3. Assist the Russian Orthodox Church in finding a new language it can use to rebuild after the war, enabling it to speak honestly to its people, to the wider Russian society, and to the world.
Ultimately, Mir Vsem presents a unique opportunity—though not a guarantee—to help shape the future of the Russian Church. This future will be challenging to navigate, but it holds the promise of something far greater than mere repentance for past complicity; it offers the chance to build a church grounded in authentic Christian witness, courage, and truth.
[1] Ellis, J. The Russian Orthodox Church : A Contemporary History. Indiana University Press, 1986. P. 439.
[2] E.g. Идеология «особого пути» в России и Германии: истоки, содержание, последствия. Под ред. Э.А. Паина. Москва, 2010. Also: Хайкин, Б.Л. «Особые пути» России и Германии в ХХ веке: «Преодоление прошлого» в культуре памяти. Новое прошлое/The New Past, no. 3, 2019. Pp. 26-43. Дубина: В. «Особый путь» теории Sonderweg в интерпретации национальной истории. In: Особый путь: от идеологии к методу. Москва, 2018. Рр. 459-477.
[3] Бровко Л. Н. Церковь и Третий рейх. СПб, 2013. Pp. 272, 424.