Father Georges Florovsky and the Infancy of the World Council of Churches

By George Mazur

WITH THE BENEFIT of the hindsight of several decades since his most active work, and in the light of a number of recent essays about his participation in various aspects of world ecumenism, it seems to me urgent that we distinguish between some of the myths and realities which have grown up around the late Protopresbyter Georges Florovsky and his participation in the ecumenical movement. In an introductory note to another of Florovskys previously unpublished essays, which appeared in an earlier number of Orthodox Tradition, I commented on the specific importance for Florovsky of the difference between theological ecumenism and political ecumenism as they affected the Church in his time. For Florovsky, it was always clear—and emphatically so—that, although Orthodox Christians have a theological responsibility to address the issue of Christian unity, they must never succumb to political ecumenism and witless satisfaction with the mere appearance of unity among Christians (political ecumenism), while ignoring the absence of any real unity in doctrine. Florovsky remained faithful to this distinction throughout his life. In my brief introductory notes, here, to another recently rediscovered essay by Florovsky, "Ultimate Problems in Church Unity," I shall point out that Florovsky, and especially towards the end of his life, was much distressed by the ecumenical movement and its deviation from this seminal distinction, which formed the scholarly and personal dimensions of his ecumenical activities.

Florovskys eventual disenchantment with the ecumenical movement stands in direct contrast to his initial sentiments about the movement, which, though rooted in responsible theological ecumenism, have been frequently misapplied by others—and especially towards the close of his career and after his death—in such a way as to make him appear to be an advocate of political ecumenism. In these brief introductory comments, I will briefly review Florovskys history with the Faith and Order Movement, which later became the World Council of Churches (WCC), and contrast this history to his later sentiments about ecumenism. I aim thereby to dispel unwarranted claims about the motives for his participation in the ecumenical movement.

After the Allied victory in Europe in the Second World War, there was a groundswell of optimism about what could be accomplished by coördinated efforts by allied nations under adverse circumstances. These sentiments carried over into various massive projects, such as the establishment of the United Nations, after initial conferences in San Francisco, in 1948. Similarly, this optimism was applied to theological and Church matters, in the hope that productive steps towards Christian unity might be undertaken. There were widespread expectations that the kind of success that coöperation in world politics seemed to be enjoying at the time would spread to the religious realm. Already, just prior to the war, national socialism having made its hideous agenda apparent, talks about Christian unity had taken place. These talks were the starting-point of Father Georges Florovskys participation in the ecumenical movement. In London, in 1937, as members of the Faith and Order Movement, Florovsky and Archimandrite Cassian were assigned to meet with delegates of the Universal Christian Council for Life and Work, as part of a fourteen-member conference convened to discuss the formation of a comprehensive "world council of churches." The opening article of the proposals put forth for what was to become ecumenisms most influential organization was the result of these discussions: "The World Council of Churches is a fellowship of churches which accept the Son as God and Savior...." This was clearly a proposition to which Father Florovsky could, in principle, have no objection.

After the war years, Florovskys next significant ecumenical activity was with the Buck Hill Falls meeting, which met to continue discussions in the direction of those principles established in London in 1937. The operating principle of this meeting can be readily summarized in the words of the participants themselves: "The movement for Christian unity and coöperation must be rooted in the life of the churches. The churches themselves must bear the main responsibility for the ecumenical movement.... The World Council is therefore in no sense a super-church, but the servant of its member-churches for purposes of coöperation and unity. The ecumenical task to be performed has two main aspects, the common study of, and search for, the essentials of faith and order on the basis of which the churches may unite, and the clarification of the common Christian attitude of the churches in society. " Once more, a recurrent spirit of high optimism could hardly be separated from the expectations of the participants in these early discussions. Florovsky continued to play an active rôle, as a member of its Provisional Committee, in the preparations for the First Assembly of the WCC, which was to take place in Amsterdam, in August of 1948. 

The Amsterdam meeting was notable for a number of reasons, not the least of which was the outstanding level of the scholars represented. In the thirty-two sessions, Karl Barth and Father Georges Florovsky gave two of the major addresses: the opening address, by Barth, was entitled, "The Church as the Living Congregation of the Living Son," and Florovsky spoke on "The Experience of the Church in the World and the Problem of Unity." In this presentation, we have an opportunity to see clearly into Florovskys ecclesiological thinking: "The Church is more than a company of preachers, or a teaching society, or a missionary band. It has not only to invite people, but also to introduce them to this new life, to which it bears witness.... The aim of its missionary activity is not merely to convey to people certain ideas..., but to bring them through their faith and repentance to the Son Himself, that they should be born anew in Him and into Him by water and the Spirit.... Conversion is a fresh start, but only a start to be followed by a long process of growth.... The Christian has to be a new creation." Florovsky was then later given the rare privilege of amplifying his views in a second address, dealing with the theological priorities of ecumenism and entitled, "Priorities in the Movement for Unity." These priorities were summarized by Florovsky in a single phrase: "Christian patience." Florovsky felt that only with such patience was it possible to begin to unravel the inner spirit experienced among believers, but invariably described in differing and often subjective ways.

In the interim years, between Amsterdam and Evanston (the first two meetings of the WCC), Florovsky was made the central member of a committee to review Christological doctrine to be adopted by the WCC for subsequent use. Along with Douglas Horton and Anders Nygren, Florovsky proposed that a "Basis for Christology" should encompass, minimally, an implicit reference to Chalcedon and to the Trinity, "to state expressly that the fact of the Incarnation and the fact of the Trinity are both witnessed to.... The Incarnation is affirmed in that the Basis [of Ecclesiology] speaks of the Son (as) the Word Who became flesh and dwelt among us." During these interim years, Florovsky also collaborated with the Ecumenical Institute in bringing about, with John Foster Dulles, a significant symposium, in April of 1950, on the foundations of international law. 

By the time of the Second Assembly of the WCC in Evanston, these sentiments continued, and again the major theological figures who gathered included Reinhold Niebuhr and Georges Florovsky. Niebuhr was concerned that the committee had overlooked important aspects of the doctrine of redemption. Florovsky, becoming concerned about the lack of realistic measures taken by the assembly, noted that, "What is needed is a positive central statement which may be directed toward the concrete issues of the time." Both Barth and Florovsky participated in a committee established to analyze the main theme of the assembly, which was to assess the relations of churches with one another and their reciprocal interactions in the contemporary world. 

In response to one of the meetings themes, "Christ, the Hope of the World," Florovsky was entrusted with the Eastern Orthodox response. He stated boldly: "Ever since Pentecost, the Orthodox Church has been proclaiming to the world that Christ is its Hope, and especially in our own time She persistently reaffirms that all human hopes must be interpreted and judged, condemned, or amended, in the light of this hope.... But this general agreement makes it even more necessary to state clearly...what we regard as not fully acceptable from the standpoint of the Orthodox Church, and...what we consider as requiring further development.... Christian Hope is grounded on Christian Faith. It is grounded on the belief that God takes a personal interest in human life and human history.... He established upon earth His Holy Church, which is His Body, in which by the power of the Holy Spirit He abides with man for ever. The Church of Christ is one loving Body of Christ, in which all generations of believers are united in the new life in Christ. It is misleading to describe the Church simply as the pilgrim people of God and to forget that the Church Triumphant and Church Militant are but One Body. It is precisely in this unity that Christian Hope is grounded." Even more directly, in the same address, Florovsky observed: "The whole approach to the problem of reunion [in the WCC report] is entirely unacceptable from the standpoint of the Orthodox Church." Once again, Florovsky had little tolerance for deviations from a Biblically-oriented, realistic formulation of doctrine, which he saw as an emerging problem for the WCC already as early as 1954, in Evanston, where Eastern Orthodox doctrine was plainly put forth by him for all to observe. These tensions between his Orthodox pronouncements and the relativistic course of the WCC continued to mount in the decades to come, and Florovsky found it increasingly difficult to maintain what were originally the more scrupulous intentions of the organization. 

Florovsky, by the time of Evanston, had already departed from France to begin his career in the United States, where he was to remain until the end of his life, after holding prestigious professorships at such distinguished institutions as Harvard University and, following his retirement from Harvard, at Princeton University and the Princeton Theological Seminary. It was in these American years that he became increasingly concerned about the deviations of the WCC from policies that he saw as compatible and consistent with Eastern Orthodox doctrine—doctrine which Florovsky undeviatingly defended to his death. His unpublished notes from this period, which express his discontent with the ecumenical movement, remain to be given the full attention that they deserve. They are essential to any effort at putting his responsible ecumenism in proper perspective. A small move in that direction is my present unveiling of a short essay by him, only recently rediscovered, reflecting his vast knowledge of responsible theological ecumenism, which he sadly saw succumb to the political chicanery and witless relativism of the contemporary ecumenical movement. Such political ecumenism, as some have called it, began to undermine what Florovsky believed to be a doctrinally sound theological ecumenism. As he points out in his essay, political fiat by the ecumenists, seeking a merely outward display of unity, was for him no substitute for theological faith in the One Church. While endorsing the ecclesiology of Khomiakov, he also expresses serious reservations about many of Solovyovs digressions into philosophical ecumenism, which to Florovsky was already a divergence away from responsible theological ecumenism. In this essay, we find find a realistic assessment of the Orthodox Churchs quest for the restoration of Christian unity within the boundaries of Orthodoxy. It is a recurrent theme in Father Florovskys later works, and it defines and delimits his mature views of ecumenism.

Dr. Mazur, a lay theologian in the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad, is a native of Australia. He is presently spending a year at Columbia University, where, prior to assuming a position at the University of Paris, he will conduct research and lecture. He is a former lecturer in philosophy at Oxford University.

Ultimate Problems in Church Unity

By Protopresbyter Georges Florovsky

In the year 1833, Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow published a small but important book, under the lengthy title, A Conversation Between a Seeker and a Believer Concerning the Orthodoxy of the Eastern Greco-Russian Church. The primary objective of the book was to dissuade people from going over to Rome. But the spirit of the book was truly ecumenical: "I do not propose to call false any church which does believe that Jesus is the Christ." A Christian church can only be either purely true, professing the true and saving Divine teaching without false admixtures and the pernicious opinions of men, or not purely true, mixing with the true and saving teaching what is not pure. The phrasing is rather unfortunate, and the term "church" is used in the large and vague sense. But the thought is plain and clear. In the concluding conversation, Philaret resumes that thought: "You expect now that I should give judgment concerning the other half of present Christianity, but I just simply look upon them; in part, I see how the Head and Lord of the Church heals the many deep wounds of the old serpent in all the parts and limbs of this body, applying now gentle, now strong, remedies, even fire and iron, in order to soften hardness, to draw out poison, to clean wounds, to separate out malignant growths, to restore spirit and life in the half-dead and numbed structures. In such wise, I attest my faith that in the end the power of God patently will triumph over human weakness, good over evil, life over death" (p. 135). The language is heavy and old-fashioned, but the wide embrace of the ecumenical vision is obvious. Philaret had a comprehensive view of Christendom. 

On the other hand, knowledge of the Christian West was very limited in his time in the Russian Church. The situation was peculiar. Western influence was considerable in Orthodox theology from the seventeenth century, both in the Near East and in Russia. Not seldom, Western manuals were directly used in Orthodox schools, in a rather promiscuous and eclectic manner, Roman and Protestant together. One may even speak of a certain Western "pseudo-morphosis" of Orthodox theology.1 And yet there was no real "encounter" with the West. Influence and imitation are not yet "encounter." The study of the West in the East was limited to the needs of polemics and refutation. Western weapons were used to fight the West. Apart from the polemical literature, one does not find anything important in the field of "comparative theology" or "symbolics." These terms were not used at that time. The most conspicuous contribution to the field were the essays of Khomiakov, and they also were polemically minded. It must be noted, however, that in spite of his strong polemical emphasis and sharp discrimination, Khomiakov was committed to the large view of Christian Unity. The West was for him still "a land of holy miracles," and not only in the past. The break of unity was for him the major tragedy of Christian history. The West was for him an estranged world, but not a foreign world. He could find a common ground with William Palmer, rigid as he may have been in his epistolary conversation. 

The problem of Christian Reunion was formally raised in Russia by Vladimir Solovyov. His main concern was with the "Great Controversy," that is, with the schism between East and West. Solovyov firmly believed in the unity of the Church in spite of the schism. He had little interest in the Protestant world, except in his late years, and then from an apocalyptic perspective. In his affirmation of the existing unity between East and West, Solovyov went obviously too far and could not fail to provoke anxiety and apprehensions on both sides. There was a heavy admixture of fantasy, impatience, and wishful thinking in his conception. His analysis was often hasty and rather superficial. His knowledge of the Catholic West was strangely limited and highly selective. He was always more interested in theocracy than in theology proper. He paid little attention, if any, to the theological tensions between East and West. He had but one concern: unity. On the whole, Solovyovs interpretation of the historic "Separation" between the Eastern and Western churches was very much the same as that theory of "branches" of the Church Catholic to which Newman was committed in the Anglican period of his search. "Separation," according to this conception, was no more than an historic estrangement, a canonical break, an interruption of visible communion and communication—a loss of mutual acknowledgment and recognition. The Catholic structure of the Church was not vitiated by this estrangement. The way toward unity is, accordingly, the way of mutual recognition. This was precisely the program of Solovyov. It does not seem that Solovyov had ever studied any Tractarian literature, although he must have been well acquainted with William Palmers story and search. Solovyov firmly believed that Orthodoxy and Rome were essentially the same Church. Only the outward manifestation of unity was inadequate and incomplete. No Orthodox Christian could go over to Rome, according to this scheme, simply because he was already there, implicitly, without acknowledging it. 

All of the objections which have been raised against the Anglican "branch theory," both from the Roman and from the Orthodox point of view, are valid also against Solovyov. Moreover, Solovyov did not succeed in disengaging the problem of Christian unity from the narrow sociological and political setting in which it had been discussed for a long time. He was not quite consistent at this point. It is true, indeed, that he put up the problem of Christian unity as a strictly ecclesiological problem. But his own ecclesiology was lacking in issue. Christian reunion was, for him, first of all—if not exclusively—a "political" endeavor, a problem of "Christian politics," that typical term of his. He discussed the problem of reunion as a peculiar Slavic or Russian problem, and in this respect he never overcame the Slavophile bias to which he was wholeheartedly committed in his early period. Only in his last years did Solovyov partially liberate himself from his earlier utopian dreams. The reunion of all Christians became an eschatological expectation, beyond the limits of history. By this time, it was a reunion of the three major branches of divided Christendom. It seems that, now, Solovyov was influenced by Schelling and Jung-Stilling. On the whole, the impact of Solovyov was ambiguous and ambivalent; he both stimulated and inhibited "ecumenical thinking" in Russia. He could not fail to provoke protest and resistance.  His thought was often misunderstood and misinterpreted. He misled some enthusiasts who were addicted to the most utopian aspects of his thought. Solovyov sorely underestimated the real depth of tension between the two traditions and could not, therefore, initiate any genuine conversation between the separated partners in the common quest. He did not help the West to grasp the deepest ethos of the Christian East, and his zealous followers in Russia did even more harm in this respect. Nor did he help the Russians to appreciate the treasures of the [pre-Schism] Western tradition, in worship and spirituality, in Christian philosophy, and in other fields, of which he probably was not fully aware himself. He gave a shock to Russian thought, but not an impulse or guidance. [2]

Two particular ecumenical themes were discussed in Russian theological circles in the later decades of the last century. The first was posited by the Los von Rom movements in the West, and especially by the Old Catholic movement. Some Orthodox theologians, mainly Russian, were involved in the dialogue at the reunion conferences at Bonn in the 1870s. Discussion on the ecclesiastical status of the Old Catholic Church was resumed in the 90s and carried on without much progress. Comparatively more fruitful was the discussion of the Filioque clause. No "existential" rapprochement ever took place between the Orthodox and Old Catholics. The second theme of ecumenical significance was connected with the relations between the churches of the Anglican Communion and the Orthodox. There was a long tradition of such contacts. However, they were sporadic and had no wider ecclesiological resonance. [3]

The method employed in these conversations was a composite of "controversy" and "concordance." It was a kind of exercise in "comparative theology," registering agreements and disagreements, with the hope that sufficient "agreement" might be reached on the essentials, in order to make mutual recognition possible. There was no deeper experience of unity and both partners in the conversations were mainly concerned with the retention of their actual historic traditions, in spite of persistent reference to the norms of the "undivided Church" [preserved in the Orthodox Church]. Apparently, beyond mutual recognition of a formal character, nothing was discovered that was not expected: disagreement which could be ultimately traced to the basic divergence of Eastern and Western tradition. The Western partners were hesitant about many points of Eastern tradition which, in any case, could not be isolated one from the other. This could not but create uneasiness on the Orthodox side. The fence had not yet been broken; conversations were conducted,  as it were, over the fence. This fence was not simply that of historical estrangement. One could not avoid the problem of "schism." Obviously, "schism" is not just a human separation; it affects also the basic structure of Christian existence.

There may be some partial truth in the contention of the "branch theory" that historic estrangement does not destroy Christian unity completely, insofar as certain substantial similarities are preserved in the realm of doctrine, devotional practices, or canonical arrangements. But all these links have but an abstract character; they are just "detached principles" which do not secure any real communion in being. Are "schisms" still an integral part of the Church universal? In the case of Old Catholics, the question was raised on the Orthodox side as to whether they could simply be "recognized as Orthodox" on the basis of some satisfactory statement of faith, or whether they had to be formally "received" into the Church. There was a vigorous clash of opinions among Russian theologians at this point. It has been strongly contended by some influential theologians that all non-Orthodox Christians are actually "outside of the Church," in the full sense of this word. Whatever weight this contention may have—and obviously it needs careful and accurate qualification—, it is obvious that pure "agreement in faith" does not, by itself, constitute "unity in the Church." "Doctrinal agreement" alone does not suffice. "Membership in the Body" is the decisive feature. On the other hand, even this statement may be made in an abstract and formal way; the terms of "membership" may be formalized, and divorced from "the faith." It is spiritually unsound to be satisfied with comprehensive "excommunication." The ultimate problem thus escapes attention. [4]

From Orthodox Tradition, Vol. XVII, No. 1 (2000).