Orthodox Christian Renewal Movements in Eastern Europe

Edited by
Aleksandra Djuri Milovanovi

Radmila Radi
ORTHODOX
CHRISTIAN RENEWAL
MOVEMENTS IN
EASTERN EUROPE
Christianity & Renewal—Interdisciplinary Studies
Series editors
Wolfgang Vondey
University of Birmingham
Birmingham, UK
Amos Yong
Center for Missiological Research
Fuller Theological Seminary
Pasadena, CA, USA
Christianity and Renewal - Interdisciplinary Studies provides a forum for
scholars from a variety of disciplinary perspectives, various global loca-
tions, and a range of Christian ecumenical and religious traditions to
explore issues at the intersection of the pentecostal, charismatic, and
other renewal movements and related phenomena, including: the trans-
forming and renewing work of the Holy Spirit in Christian traditions,
cultures, and creation; the traditions, beliefs, interpretation of sacred
texts, and scholarship of the renewal movements; the religious life,
including the spirituality, ethics, history, and liturgical and other prac-
tices, and spirituality of the renewal movements; the social, economic,
political, transnational, and global implications of renewal movements;
methodological, analytical, and theoretical concerns at the intersection of
Christianity and renewal; intra-Christian and interreligious comparative
studies of renewal and revitalization movements; other topics connect-
ing to the theme of Christianity and renewal. Authors are encouraged
to examine the broad scope of religious phenomena and their interpre-
tation through the methodological, hermeneutical, and historiographical
lens of renewal in contemporary Christianity. Under the general topic of
thoughtful reflection on Christianity and renewal, the series includes two
different kinds of books: (1) monographs that allow for in-depth pursuit,
carefully argued, and meticulously documented research on a particular
topic that explores issues in Christianity and renewal; and (2) edited col-
lections that allow scholars from a variety of disciplines to interact under
a broad theme related to Christianity and renewal. In both kinds, the
series encourages discussion of traditional pentecostal and charismatic
studies, reexamination of established religious doctrine and practice,
and explorations into new fields of study related to renewal movements.
Interdisciplinarity will feature in the series both in terms of two or more
disciplinary approaches deployed in any single volume and in terms of a
wide range of disciplinary perspectives found cumulatively in the series.
More information about this series at

http://www.springer.com/series/14894
Aleksandra Djurić Milovanović
Radmila Radić
Editors
Orthodox Christian
Renewal Movements
in Eastern Europe
Editors
Aleksandra Djurić Milovanović Radmila Radić
Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts Institute for Recent History of Serbia
Belgrade, Serbia Belgrade, Serbia
Christianity and Renewal - Interdisciplinary Studies

ISBN 978-3-319-63353-4 ISBN 978-3-319-63354-1 (eBook)
DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1
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Acknowledgements
The idea for this volume originated a few years back: from the very
beginning, it has been a remarkable experience to gather scholars
working on renewal movements in Eastern Orthodoxy. We owe spe-
cial gratitude to those of our colleagues who enthusiastically supported
the idea for this volume, wrote original chapters, and patiently waited
for publication. One person in particular deserves special recogni-
tion: Dr. James M. White of the Ural Federal University (Ekaterinburg,
Russia) for proofreading the manuscript and translating one chapter
from Russian into English. For this project, we had great support from
two leading scholars in eastern European religious studies: Dr. Milan
Vukomanović (University of Belgrade) and Dr. Paul Mojzes (Rosemont
College Pennsylvania). Thanks to the efforts of our editors at Palgrave
Macmillan, Dr. Amos Yong, Dr. Wolfgang Vondey and assistant editor
Amy Invernizzi, this volume was included in CHARIS—Christianity
and Renewal-Interdisciplinary Studies. Without their professional work
and encouragement, this volume could not have been completed.
Belgrade Aleksandra Djurić Milovanović

April 2017 Radmila Radić
v
Contents
1 Prologue: Looking West, but Walking East:

The Dilemma of Orthodoxy in a Modernising World 1
Meic Pearse
2 Introduction: Understanding Renewal Movements

in Orthodox Christianity 11
Aleksandra Djurić Milovanović and Radmila Radić
Part I Orthodox Christian Renewal Movements in Russia, The

Soviet Union and Ukraine
3 Ritual, Ecclesia, and the Reform of Russian Orthodoxy:

The Life and Thought of Ioann Verkhovskii,
1818–1891 23
James M. White
4 The New Doctrines of the Doukhobor Fasters

and Tolstoyism 47
Svetlana A. Inikova
5 The ‘Renovationists’ and the Soviet State 67

Mikhail Vitalievich Shkarovskiy
vii
viii Contents
6 Maliovantsy: Orthodox Christianity and the Ukrainian

‘Evangelical’ Peasants of Late Imperial Russia 77
Sergei I. Zhuk
Part II The God Worshipper Movement and Its Influence

on the Serbian Orthodox Church
7 The Nazarenes Among the Serbs: Proselytism

and/or Dissent? 105
Bojan Aleksov
8 The God Worshipper Movement in Serbian Society in the

Twentieth Century: Emergence, Development,
and Structures 137
Radmila Radić and Aleksandra Djurić Milovanović
9 The Influence of the God Worshipper Movement on the

Language Policy and Religious Service of the Serbian
Orthodox Church 173
Ksenija J. Končarević
10 The Prayer Chanting of the God Worshipper Movement 191

Dragan Ašković
11 The God Worshipper Movement and Pilgrimage:

Religious Revival in the Past and Present 213
Dragana Radisavljević-Ćiparizović
Part III Case Studies of Renewal Movements in the Orthodox

Churches of Romania, Greece and Bulgaria
12 The Romanian Lord’s Army: A Case Study in Eastern

Orthodox Church Renewal 231
Corneliu Constantineanu
Contents ix
13 The Oastea Domnului (Lord’s Army) Movement in the

Serbian Banat 261
Mircea Măran
14 The Brotherhood of Theologians Zoe and Its Influence

on Twentieth-Century Greece 285
Amaryllis Logotheti
15 The Case of the Christiyanka Journal: The Bulgarian

Orthodox Charity Network and the Movement for
Practical Christianity After World War I 303
Galina Goncharova
Index 323
Editors and Contributors
About the Editors
Aleksandra Djurić Milovanović Ph.D. “2012, Ethnology and

Anthropology, Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade, Serbia”.
Research Fellow, Institute for Balkan Studies, Serbian Academy of
Sciences and Arts, Belgrade, Serbia. Aleksandra Djurić Milovanović’s
research has been primarily focused on the anthropology of religion
and church history, especially with regards to contemporary evangelical
movements and Orthodoxy in Serbia and Romania. Her book Double
Minorities in Serbia. Distinctive Aspects of the Religion and Ethnicity of the
Romanians in Vojvodina was published in 2015 by the Serbian Academy
of Sciences and Arts, Institute for Balkan Studies (Belgrade, Serbia).
Radmila Radić Ph.D. “1992, History, Faculty of Philosophy,

University of Belgrade, Serbia”. Full Research Professor, Institute for
Recent History of Serbia, Belgrade, Serbia. Radmila Radić is historian
who specialises in the history of the Balkans, Yugoslavia, and Serbia in
the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. She has examined the history of
the relations between the state and religious communities in the former
Yugoslavia and the history of the Serbian Orthodox Church. She has
published numerous articles, book chapters, and monographs on church-
state relations in the twentieth century.
xi
xii Editors and Contributors
Contributors
Bojan Aleksov Ph.D. “2005, Comparative History of central, southern

and eastern Europe, Central European University, Budapest-Hungary,
summa cum laude”. Senior lecturer in Modern Southeast European
History, History Programmes Coordinator, University College London,
United Kingdom. Bojan Aleksov’s research interests are religion and
nationalism, the history of the Serbian Orthodox Church, and monastic
traditions. He has published a book entitled Religious Dissent between the
Modern and the National: Nazarenes in Hungary and Serbia 1850–1914
(Wiesbaden: Harrasowitz Verlag, 2006).
Dragan Ašković Ph.D. “2011, Ethnomusicological Science, University

of Banja Luka, Academy of Music, Republika Srpska, B&H”. Assistant
Professor, Faculty of Orthodox Theology, University of Belgrade,
Serbia. Dragan Ašković is a specialist in the history and theology of
church music. He teaches at the Department for Liturgics in the Faculty
for Orthodox Theology in Belgrade. He has published a book entitled
Himne sa hilandarskog panagira (Bratstvo manastira Hilandar, 2003).
Corneliu Constantineanu Ph.D. “2006, Philosophy/Biblical Studies/

New Testament, University of Leeds, UK and the Oxford Centre
for Mission Studies, Oxford, UK”. Associate Professor, Aurel Vlaicu
University of Arad, Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences, Romania.
The areas of Constantineanu’s scientific interest are Pauline theology/
New Testament hermeneutics, the theology of reconciliation, the rela-
tionship between church and society, the Gospels and culture, reli-
gion and science, faith and profession, and the dynamic integration of
theological education. He has published several books: Traiti în pace.
Dimensiunea socială a reconcilierii în teologia paulina (Oradea: Casa
Carpi & Risoprint, Cluj-Napoca, 2013), Puterea Evangheliei. Pledoarie
pentru Cuvântul lui Dumnezeu (Bucureşti: Editura Universitara, 2013).
Galina Goncharova Ph.D. “2011, Sociology, Anthropology and

Culture Studies, Faculty of History, Sofia University St. Kliment
Ohridski, Bulgaria”. Assistant Professor, Department of History and
Theory of Culture, Sofia University “St. Kliment Ohridski”, Bulgaria.
Galina Goncharova’s major academic interests are the social history of
medicine, oral history, the sociology of youth cultures, the sociology
Editors and Contributors xiii
of professions, and the study of nationalism. Galina has been granted a

Maison des Sciences de L’Homme et de la Societe, Sofia—Paris fellowship
and CEE Trust and SEAL, Sofia—Bulgaria Fellowship. She is a former
fellow of the CASS, Sofia (2003–2004). Her individual research project
was entitled “The Public Image of the Bulgarian State Official (Clerk)
at the End of the Nineteenth and the Beginning of the Twentieth
Centuries”.
Svetlana A. Inikova Ph.D. “1985, Anthropology, Lomonosov

Moscow State University, Russia”. Senior Research Fellow, Institute of
Ethnology and Anthropology, Russian Academy of Sciences, Moscow,
Russia. Svetlana A. Inikova is considered one of the world’s foremost
authorities on the Dukhobors. She has published numerous articles on
the Dukhobors in Russian and English and is the author of History of
the Doukhoborsin V. D. Bonch-Bruevich’s Archives (1886–1950s): An
Annotated Bibliography (Ottawa: Legas and Spirit Wrestlers, 1999) and
Doukhobor Incantations through the Centuries (Ottawa: Legas and Spirit
Wrestlers, 1999).
Ksenija J. Končarević Ph.D. “1997, Lingua-didactic theory of text-

book, Faculty of Philology, University of Belgrade”. Full Professor,
Faculty of Philology, Department of Slavic Studies, University of
Belgrade, Serbia. Ksenija J. Končarević is a specialist in theological lin-
guistics, sociolinguistics, and Russian linguistics. She is also the author
of numerous university textbooks, reference books, and more than 340
scientific papers presented at conferences in Serbia and abroad. She has
published several books in the field of religion and language: Putevima
ruske monaške duhovnosti (Kalenić, 2004), Sakralna komunikacija:
norme, tradicije, sredstva (Beograd, 2013), Ruski jezik u komunikaciji i
misiji Crkve: funkcionalni stilovi, resursi, žanrovi (Beograd, 2014), and
Pogled u teolingvistiku, (Beograd, 2015).
Amaryllis Logotheti Ph.D. “2016, History, Panteion University,

Athens, Greece”. Independent Scholar, Panteion University of Athens,
Greece. Her dissertation is entitled “Religion and Politics in Greece and
Turkey at the Beginning of the Cold War: The Periodicals Zoe and Buyuk
Dogu” and focuses on the interaction between state and religion in the
public sphere. She has published articles on political Islam and presented
papers about the role of religion in the Mediterranean world, state
xiv Editors and Contributors
anticommunism, and the triangular relationship between Turkey, Greece,

and Cyprus. Her research interests include comparative history, political
Islam, the transition to secularism, and the Cold War in Europe.
Mircea Măran Ph.D. “2008, History, Faculty of Philosophy, University

of Novi Sad, Serbia”. Full Professor of History, Preschool Teacher
Training College “Mihailo Palov”, Vršac, Serbia. The main area of
Mircea Maran’s interest is the history of the Banat, the Romanian minor-
ity in Serbia, and cultural history between the two world wars. He is the
author of 11 books, some of them published abroad, and he has par-
ticipated in over 35 scientific conferences. Representative titles include
Romanii din Banatul sârbesc în anii interbelici (1918–1941)—pagini
de istorie culturală (Argonaut, Cluj-Napoca, 2012) and Romanii din
Voivodina—istorie, demografie, identitate românească în localităţile
Voivodinei (Editura ICRV: Zrenjanin, 2009).
Meic Pearse D.Phil. Ecclesiastical History. “1992, Ecclesiastical

History, Oxford University, UK”. Professor of History, Houghton
College, NY, USA. Professor Pearse has taught church history and
led a theology degree programme at the London School of Theology
(1994–2004). He has also taught at Regents Park College, Oxford, the
University of Newcastle, and at universities in Croatia, Romania, the
Czech Republic, Russia, and the USA. He established and now leads
the East Meets West Honors Program at Houghton College. He is the
author of seven books: The Age of Reason: From the Wars of Religion to
the French Revolution 1570–1789 (Monarch Books, 2006).
Dragana Radisavljević-Ćiparizović Ph.D. “2013, Sociology, Faculty of

Philosophy, University of Belgrade, Serbia”. Research Associate, Faculty
of Philosophy, University of Belgrade, Serbia. Dragana Radisavljević-
Ćiparizović is a sociologist of religion. She has published Religioznost
i tradicija: vezanost za religiju i crkvu u Srbiji na raskršću milenijuma
(Beograd, Institut za sociološka istraživanja Filozofskog fakulteta, 2006)
and several articles, including “Pilgrimage in Empirical Perspective:
Pilgrims’ Attitudes towards Church and Folk Religiosity and Superstition
in Serbia”, in Mirko Blagojević and Dragan Todorović, eds., Orthodoxy
from an Empirical Perspective (YUNIR, Institute for Philosophy and
Social Theory, Belgrade, 2011, 127–137).
Editors and Contributors xv
Mikhail Vitalievich Shkarovskiy Ph.D. “1996, History, Leningrad

Branch of the Institute of History of the USSR Academy of Sciences,
now St. Petersburg Institute of History of RAS”. Full Professor of the St
Petersburg Orthodox Theological Academy, Leading Researcher of the
Central State Archive of St Petersburg, Russia. Professor Shkarovskiy is
the author of several books, including Russkaia Pravoslavnaia Tserkov’
i sovetskoe gosudarstvo v 1943–1964 godakh: ot “peremiriya” k novoi vine
(St Petersburg: DEAN+ADIA-M, 1995), Obnovlencheskoe dvizhenie v
Russkoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvi XX veka (St Petersburg: Nestor, 1999), and
Istoriia Russkoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvi ot vosstanovleniia patriarshestva do
nashikh dnei. Tom I: 1917–1970 by Mikhail B. Danilushkin, Tat’yana K.
Nikol’skaya, Mikhail V. Shkarovskiy, Fr Vladimir Dmitriev, and Boris P.
Kutuzov (St Petersburg: Voskreseniye, 1997).
James M. White Ph.D. “2014, History, European University Institute,

Italy”. Senior Research Fellow, Ural Federal University, Ekaterinburg,
Russia. Dr. White’s research interests include Russian religious his-
tory, the history of the Russian Orthodox Church, and the history of
Old Belief. His work is especially concerned with the question of plural-
ism, toleration, and modernisation in the Russian Empire. He defended
his doctoral thesis on edinoverie at the European University Institute
in 2014. His recent article is: “Orthodox Old Belief: Edinoverie as a
Movement for Religious Rejuvenation in the Russian Church, 1905–
1918”, Russian History, 43 (2016): 181–206.
Sergei I. Zhuk Ph.D. “2002, History, Johns Hopkins University,

USA”. Full Professor of History, Ball State University, Indiana, USA.
Sergei Zhuk has published three books in Russian and more than 20 arti-
cles on colonial American history in English, French, and Russian. Dr.
Zhuk has published several scholarly books in English: Popular Culture,
Identity and Soviet Youth in Dniepropetrovsk, 1959–1984 (Pittsburgh,
PA: the University of Pittsburgh Press, 2008), and Rock and Roll in the
Rocket City: The West, Identity, and Ideology in Soviet Dniepropetrovsk,
1960–1985 (Baltimore, MD: the Johns Hopkins University Press &
Washington, D.C. : Woodrow Wilson Center Press, 2010).
CHAPTER 1
Prologue: Looking West, but Walking

East: The Dilemma of Orthodoxy
in a Modernising World
Meic Pearse
The historic strength and the historic weakness of Eastern Orthodoxy

are one and the same. The perception that the Church is, and should
be, timeless and unchanging; that all its doctrines and practices—includ-
ing that of icon-painting—are traceable back to Christ and the apostles;
that doctrinal development is fully and definitively encompassed by the
first seven ecumenical councils: these convictions have protected it in the
fast-changing world of the modern era from the liberalisation that has
ravaged Protestantism since the late nineteenth century and from the
aggiornamento that has pushed Catholicism—at different speeds in dif-
ferent countries, to be sure—in the same direction of accommodation.
But the very intractability of Orthodoxy has sharply limited its ability
to make converts outside its historic homelands, and sometimes even to
hang on to its historic constituency.
Orthodoxy is distinguished, too, from the churches of the West
by prolonged periods of suppression under rulers of alien cultures and
M. Pearse (*) 
Houghton College, New York, USA
© The Author(s) 2017 1

A. Djurić Milovanović and R. Radić (eds.), Orthodox Christian Renewal
Movements in Eastern Europe, Christianity and Renewal - Interdisciplinary
Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_1
2 M. Pearse
faiths: the Mongols in Russia and Ukraine and the Turks in Greece and
the Balkans. This has left a legacy of moral superiority over the West—
the superiority of those who have suffered for their faith. However, it is
a superiority which, like humility, has been perceived even by some from
within its own patrimony as rapidly erodin with awareness of itself.
The Orthodox world as defined by this book is to be distinguished
from those venerable churches of the East that have, since the fifth cen-
tury, no longer been in communion with both Constantinople (and
thus also its daughter churches in eastern and Southeastern Europe)
and Rome. The issue at stake then was ostensibly Christology, though
big-city power politics was the prime culprit for the acrimony (relations
between Alexandria and Antioch—and between both of them and
Constantinople—were notoriously heated). And what rivalry and theol-
ogy created, divergent culture has sustained. The Coptic, Armenian, and
Assyrian churches all bear the sobriquet “Orthodox”, but they do not
see themselves as integral parts of the Eastern Orthodox world. Nor are
they viewed as such by the churches considered in this volume. With the
partial exception of the Ethiopians and, for at least some of their his-
tory, the Armenians, none has sustained exclusive, or even preponderant,
leverage over the population of a state; most have endured the life of
oppressed minorities claiming the adherence of the merest fragments of
the societies in which they live. Yet it remains the theological issues that
keep them in a category apart.1 The big-city rivalries that first provoked
them lost most of their import back in the seventh century, when two of
the three culprits were conquered for Islam, an embrace they have not
shaken off since.
The modern world has been dominated by the West. Its ideas (ration-
alism, popular sovereignty, secularity, nationalism, capitalism, and social-
ism) all demanded responses from Orthodox populations and from
Orthodox churches and clergy. Sometimes those responses came from
within the resources of Orthodoxy itself, but more often they were
adaptations to stimuli from without: literacy and the need for vernacu-
lar Bibles and liturgies; rising national consciousness; the inclusion of
Orthodox populations in the Habsburg Empire; and the populist appeal
of Protestant evangelical movements.
Western domination had become noticeable by the end of the sev-
enteenth century. Thereafter, the major Western powers, such as
Britain, France, and the Netherlands, greatly expanded their colonial
and commercial reach around the world. By contrast, the Orthodox
1 PROLOGUE: LOOKING WEST, BUT WALKING EAST: THE DILEMMA … 3
peoples—with the sole exception of Russia—lived under Muslim,

Ottoman rule. 150 years later, the situation of the Orthodox was, in this
geopolitical aspect, little changed. The dominance of the West, by con-
trast, had grown exponentially during the interim, with the advent of the
Industrial Revolution and the political and military power that inevitably
followed in its wake. As that most rationalist and godless of Westerners,
Karl Marx pointed out political power follows economic power both
within societies and among them.2
If the Orthodox populations of the Balkans were ever to be free of
Muslim rule, deliverance was to be sought in just three possible direc-
tions. In the first place, the Catholic Habsburgs had already begun to
push back the Ottoman tide in the years following the unsuccess-
ful second Turkish siege of Vienna in 1683. As the nineteenth century
dawned, historic Hungary, north of the Danube and Sava rivers, was in
the hands of Western Christendom. With many Orthodox Serbs—those
living in Srem, Bačka, and Banat—already Habsburg subjects, it seemed
entirely possible that it would be the Westerners who would drive out
the Muslim rulers from Southeastern Europe. It was a calculation that
appeared all the more reasonable after Napoleon’s conquest of Egypt in
1798 and the more permanent ability of Western states to impose “capit-
ulations” (trade agreements that privileged foreign merchants) upon the
increasingly powerless and financially indebted Porte in Constantinople.
The continued existence of the Ottoman Empire—and with it, subjec-
tion of the Orthodox to Muslim rule—appeared to be on the sufferance
of the British and French.
In the second place, Russia had advanced to the status of a great
power, particularly following its leading rôle in the defeat of Napoleon
in 1812–1814. It had acquired central and eastern Ukraine during the
eighteenth century, and in the nineteenth conquered more and more of
the Caucasus. In the process, it subjugated the erstwhile Tatar rulers and
the various smaller Muslim peoples of the lands to the east and northeast
of the Black Sea.3 Russia fought 12 wars with the Ottomans during the
350 years from 1568–1918 and, during the last century of that period,
won all of these confrontations, with the sole exception of the Crimean
War of 1853–1856 (on that occasion, Turkey was aided by Britain and
France, who feared that Russian success in these conflicts would lead it
to seize Constantinople and thus threaten their own interests). During
the nineteenth century, Russia posed as the defender of the Orthodox
people of the Balkans, heir presumptive to the visibly moribund Muslim
4 M. Pearse
empire. In the meantime, it accorded itself a right to interfere with

Ottoman governance of its Orthodox subjects.4
And yet the growing power of Russia depended upon its ongo-
ing modernisation—which is to say, its adoption of Western
methods, whether in military affairs, administration, concessions to capi-
talist modes of production, and openness to the scientific and technolog-
ical advancements that Western scientific rationalism had caused to take
wings. If it resisted these—and, as is well known, Russian governments
vacillated, even as Russians themselves were highly conflicted about such
changes—then the country’s continuing advance to great power status
would be hobbled, and its ability to resist British and French pressures
would be stymied. Russia’s ability to act out the great rôle it assigned
itself—protector of the Orthodox, wherever they might live—depended
upon significant acceptance of Western methods and Western thinking.
Finally, the third possibility of deliverance from Muslim rule lay in
the potential of the Orthodox peoples of the Balkans themselves. And
here the irony is at its most acute. The pre-Muslim states of the region
(the Byzantine Empire, Bulgaria, Bosnia, and the Serbian Empire of
Stefan Dušan) were long gone past all hope of resurrection. And the
Orthodox Church itself was not and never had been a rallying point for
rebellion; subjection to secular government had been its cardinal prin-
ciple, not only during the Middle Ages, but beyond. The Patriarch in
Constantinople was an appointee of the sultan and held office at his
pleasure.
If casting off Muslim rule was to emanate from the Orthodox peoples
at all, then, it would be from a different source: the new, Western doc-
trine of nationalism. This creed received a mighty fillip from the French
Revolution and from the Napoleonic occupation that followed it in so
many regions.5
The nationalist conception of identity harped constantly upon medie-
val “roots” and precedents.6 Yet the consciousness itself was emphatically
modern, as the failed revolutions across the continent in 1848 showed
quite decisively: nationalist revolts were urban affairs, supported by the
rising middle classes and some industrial workers; the peasant masses of
the countryside treated them with indifference, or else were active sup-
porters of the ancien régime. The more modern the sector of society, the
more dominated by the new, Western modes of production and forms
of social structure, the greater was the level of support for the national-
ist projects that sought to overthrow the old monarchies and establish
nation-states. Conversely, where societies were overwhelmingly agri-

cultural, non-commercial—and in particular where traditional forms of
piety held greatest sway—there the passion of the nationalists was all
but incomprehensible or held in actual contempt. And it was the latter
circumstance that largely held sway among the Orthodox populations
under Ottoman rule. Indeed, the disturbances of 1848 all but bypassed
the Orthodox regions of Europe.
Religious authorities everywhere rejected the new nationalist senti-
ment as impious, locating political legitimacy as it did, not in the will of
God conveying authority to monarchs, but in a hypothesised “the peo-
ple”, defined by language and a supposed shared history, replete with
heroes who must be celebrated.7 Nationalists were greatly concerned
with constructing a “national history”; to do so, they unfailingly fell back
for support upon another new, Western sensibility, romanticism, which
infused (and still infuses) all nationalist painting, literature, sculpture,
and rhetoric, the pseudo-religious atmospherics of which were perceived
as well-nigh blasphemous by churchmen and the traditionally devout.
When the great Serbian orthographer and literary scholar Vuk
Karadžić (1787–1864) had the temerity to produce a translation of the
New Testament in modern Serbian in 1847, the reaction of church-
men was “predictably violent”; they rightly saw that his linguistic
reforms would undermine the traditional liturgy and the authority of the
Church itself.8 Karadžić’s vernacular New Testament was seen as implic-
itly Protestant; the fact of its production and (after resistance) circula-
tion constituted a “decisive victory in [his] battle with the authorities
of the Orthodox Church”.9 The switch away from the Cyrillic alpha-
bet in Romania, under circumstances of similar modernising, national-
ist pressure during 1860–1862, illustrates the same trend. Traditional
Orthodoxy dictated adherence to the old alphabet and the old liturgy,
and to strict separation from the Catholic, Protestant, and Uniate
churches in nearby Transylvania and Banat. The new, Western sentiments
of nationalism and populism pointed to the (mostly) non-Slavic structure
and vocabulary of the vernacular tongue—and so to use of the Roman
alphabet. Again, it was the upholders of tradition who lost.
Despite their relative backwardness, the Orthodox homelands were
nevertheless modernising. In the new Orthodox church buildings of the
growing cities, Western artistic styles were at least influencing, and in
some cases actually supplanting, the rigid icon forms of the old churches.
National sentiment was slowly taking root. Rising literacy made the old
6 M. Pearse
insistence upon Church Slavonic seem arcane. Nation-states, under-

pinned by growing national consciousness, replaced the Ottoman
Empire during the period 1804–1913. During the twentieth century, the
Orthodox churches would move from resistance to nationalism to loud
support.
The new nation-states of the Balkans offered the Orthodox churches
new freedoms and enhanced status. But they also presented them with new
challenges. Under the Ottoman millet system, every subject was adminis-
tered, taxed, assessed, and defended and judged in law through his or her
respective religious authorities. Consequently, for an Orthodox person to
stray from the ecclesiastical fold was all but a social impossibility. In the new
states, a citizen’s relationship with the church might be more equivocal.
In 1917–1921, the old order of throne and altar in Russia would be
overthrown—to murderous, catastrophic effect—by the supporters of a
modern, Western, rationalist creed. In late Tsarist Russia, the Orthodox
Church had been administered by a government functionary, the procu-
rator of the Holy Synod. At the turn of the century, this had been the
archetypal reactionary Konstantin Petrovich Pobedonostsev (1827–1907)
whose unbending autocratic instincts, antisemitism, and will to persecute
evangelical sects coloured his entire period in office. And yet the very
existence of his office was a symbol of the triumph of Western manage-
rialism over traditional Orthodoxy: he was not a medieval patriarch, but
a modern civil servant. And in any case, the reaction against his excessive
rigidity was all the more extreme after 1917: the Bolsheviks p ersecuted
the Orthodox Church, as a pillar of tsarism, with real savagery.
By the interwar period, then, the political arrangements obtaining
in the places where Orthodox people lived were dictated by modernist,
Western creeds: nationalism in the new states of the Balkans; socialism
in Russia; managerialism everywhere. Their economies were being drawn
into Western patterns of industrialisation and urbanisation, along with
increasingly Western patterns of life and even of dress.
All along the frontier zones with the Catholic and Protestant West,
Orthodox populations had long mingled with a sometimes dizzying
array of different confessions. In the far north, they had rubbed shoul-
ders with Estonian and Latvian Lutherans and Lithuanian and Polish
Catholics, as well as significant numbers of Jews. A little further south,
in western Belorussia and western Ukraine, there had been many
Catholics but also large numbers of Uniates—and also many Jews. In
the Carpathians, the contact might be with any of these, but also with
Hungarian and ethnic German Protestants of various confessions. In

Banat and Vojvodina, Orthodox villages were similarly interspersed with
a mixture of Catholics, Protestants, and Jews. And heading down to the
Adriatic through Croatia, Bosnia, and Montenegro, the mixture was
mainly with Catholics and Muslims. Under these circumstances, cultural,
artistic, and intellectual influences from the West entered with relative
ease. In fact, however, evangelical Protestants were making their influ-
ence felt, not only in these border zones, but well beyond them. The
reasons are essentially twofold: the German diaspora and modern (espe-
cially Baptist) missions.10
The former had been a defining reality across central and east-
ern Europe to a degree that, since 1945 at least, outsiders are almost
entirely unfamiliar with. At the end of World War II, 12 million ethnic
Germans were driven out of regions their ancestors had inhabited since
the Middle Ages. There were large communities of them in the north-
west of the Russian Empire (i.e. in St Petersburg and the Baltic regions,
where they frequently formed the aristocracy); in Ukraine and southern
Russia, where they lived in many German villages; in the Siebenbürgen
cities of Transylvania (‘the Transylvania Saxons’); and in Vojvodina and
Slavonia, where the presence of the Donauschwaben was more recent,
dating back “only” to the late eighteenth century. Everywhere, they had
been a “civilising” influence, in the sense that they had been a conduit
for trade, modern production techniques, hygiene products, and much
else besides. But most of them had been Protestant and, of these, a high
proportion had embraced Pietism—a proto-evangelical form of devo-
tion that promoted “the new birth”, personal Bible reading, practi-
cal Christianity, and small group meetings for worship and Bible study
known as Bibelstunden. While most such groups were originally Lutheran
or Reformed, during the latter part of the nineteenth century, they
largely moved over to the Baptist movement. Johann Gerhard Oncken
(1800–1884) was a British-trained German Baptist who, starting in
1830, established a congregation in Hamburg, but went on to spread
the movement across the German-speaking world. By the late nineteenth
century, converts were appearing beyond the ethnic Germans, among
Romanians, Ukrainians, and Russians.
The situation is complicated by the presence in southern Russia of
German Mennonites (invited by Catherine the Great in the eighteenth
century), many of whom also came to embrace the new evangelical
emphases and to spread them, and also of a variety of indigenous sects.
8 M. Pearse
The outlook and theologies of these groups, mostly the Old Believers
and their various breakaways (Molokans, Dukhobors and many others),
had little in common with the evangelicals. Nevertheless, from the 1860s
and 1870s, numbers of them went over to the new Western movement
and began proselytising among the Orthodox, thereby incurring official
wrath and persecution.11
Missionaries not only from Germany itself, but also from Britain,
America, and, in one bizarre case, a Syrian Presbyterian came to sup-
ply whatever energy and enthusiasm might be lacking. In the Ottoman
realms, meanwhile, American Congregationalists and German Pietists
came to evangelise. The Porte drew the line at any appeal to Muslims,
but Christians of other confessions—including Orthodox—were fair
game. Thus, by the turn of the twentieth century, Congregationalists
were established in eastern Macedonia and Bulgaria.12 In the years imme-
diately before and after World War I, the Baptist and Pietist presence was
supplemented by the arrival of Pentecostalism from America. This grew
rapidly, and in the same areas that the earlier evangelical movements had
thrived, most notably in Ukraine, Transylvania, and Banat.
Finally, after the peace settlement of 1919 had redrawn the borders
of Europe, the new arrangements had the effect of drawing large num-
bers of evangelicals into largely Orthodox states. This was most notably
the case with the creation of the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes
(renamed Kingdom of Yugoslavia in 1929) and Romania. The former
came to include large areas north of the Danube, populated by many
ethnicities apart from Orthodox Serbs—among them, many evangeli-
cals. The latter acquired Transylvania and most of the Banat, both multi-
ethnic areas where Baptists and Pentecostals were strong and making
inroads among historically Orthodox Romanians.
By 1919 at the latest, then, the historic Orthodox churches found
that Western influences faced them in overwhelming force. The
states they inhabited were modern, and founded upon the rationale
of Enlightenment, rationalist creeds, whether nationalist or socialist.
Western fashions in art had penetrated the church buildings themselves.
The societies were modernising, with booming cities, rising literacy rates,
and economies that might reasonably be characterised as capitalist or
socialist; all citizens faced several rivals for their political and religious
affiliations. And all states included bodies of evangelicals threatening
to win away some of the Church’s adherents. Failing to respond to the
challenges of Western modernity was no longer possible.
And yet, the challenge was faced. This volume considers the range of
those responses, which were—are—often controversial in themselves.
For traditionalists, the renewal movements in Orthodoxy represent an
unwarranted compromise, a betrayal of a sacrosanct tradition. For the
supporters of renewal, “in order to keep things the same, things are
going to have to change”. This volume may not provide an “answer” to
this conundrum, but it will help in understanding what is at stake.
Notes
1. Few today would persist in the charge of “heresy” that initiated these
splits. But the Copts, whether Egyptian or Ethiopian, and the Armenians
remain (at least theoretically) monophysite: Christ has but one nature,
and that nature is divine. It is not a position that can be squared with
the Chalcedonian Creed of 451, which is accepted by all the churches of
the West and by the Eastern Orthodox churches that form our principal
subject matter. The Assyrian and Syriac churches, by contrast, adhere to
the Christology of Nestorius (a sharp contrast between Christ’s human-
ity and His divinity, such that language about “a single hypostasis” is best
avoided): this position was also condemned by the Council of Chalcedon
that had approved the Creed. Such fine theological distinctions, though
still not unimportant, have nevertheless receded in proportion to a world
and a church less concerned with philosophical imponderables.
2. The idea was first mooted by James Harrington, in his Oceana of 1656.
3. For the religious consequences of this, see Mostashari (2001), pp. 229–249.
4. Jelavich (1991).
5. The classic novel by Ivo Andrić, Bosnian Chronicle (also known as
The Days of the Consuls) portrays the introduction, by the French con-
sul Daville, of the new Western mentality to the bewildered officials of
Travnik in Ottoman Bosnia.
6. See, for example, the study by Baár (2010).
7. Religious resistance to nationalism was least pronounced in histori-
cally Protestant countries. But it was treated with far more hostility by
Orthodox, Muslim, and Jewish religious authorities (The last of those in
respect of Zionism, the brainchild of Theodor Herzl [1860–1904] and
his ground-breaking Der Judenstaat of 1896). The Catholic Church was
the most robust antagonist of all. In consequence, nationalism was every-
where a secular movement—at least until after World War I.
8. Wilson (1970), p. 327, cf. also pp. 132–138.
9. Ibid., p. 323.
10. Randall (2009).
10 M. Pearse
11. See Zhuk (2004), Coleman (2005).

12. See Nestorova (1987). In 1901, Miss Ellen Stone, a formidable American
missionary, and her assistant Katerina Stefanova–Tsilka were captured by
Macedonian revolutionary bandits and held captive for five months until
they were ransomed by the US government. See Carpenter (2003).
References
Andrić, Ivo. 1993. Bosnian Chronicle (also known as The Days of the Consuls).
New York: Arcade Publishing.
Baár, Monika. 2010. Historians and Nationalism: East-Central Europe in the
Nineteenth Century. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Carpenter, Teresa. 2003. The Miss Stone Affair: America’s First Modern Hostage
Crisis. New York: Simon & Schuster.
Coleman, Heather J. 2005. Russian Baptists and Spiritual Revolution, 1905–1929.
Bloomington: Indiana University Press.
Harrington, James. 1656. The common-wealth of Oceana … London: Printed by
J. Streater, for Livewell Chapman.
Jelavich, Barbara. 1991. Russia’s Balkan Entanglements, 1806–1914. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Mostashari, Firouzeh. 2001. “Colonial Dilemmas: Russian Policies in the
Muslim Caucasus”. In Of Religion and Empire, eds. R. P. Geraci &
M. Khodarkovsky, pp. 229–249. Ithaca: Cornell University Press.
Nestorova, Tatyana. 1987. American Missionaries among the Bulgarians 1858–1912.
New York: Columbia University Press.
Randall, Ian M. 2009. Communities of Conviction: Baptist Beginnings in Europe.
Schwarzenfeld, Germany: Neufeld Verlag.
Wilson, Duncan. 1970. The Life and Times of Vuk Stefanovic Karadzic. Oxford:
Oxford University Press.
Zhuk, Sergei I. 2004. Russia’s Lost Reformation, 2. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins
University Press.
CHAPTER 2
Introduction: Understanding Renewal

Movements in Orthodox Christianity
Aleksandra Djurić Milovanović and Radmila Radić
Over the course of the nineteenth century in most of the newly formed
nation states of Eastern Europe, autocephaly transformed churches into
“national” institutions. The secular elites of these countries attempted
to modernize their church institutions and practices of religious life.
During the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth centuries,
the changes religion experienced as it came into contact with modernity
were also reflected in the Orthodox churches of Eastern Europe, which
adapted themselves to innovations and ideas from the West. Orthodox
Christianity in Eastern Europe witnessed the emergence of several
renewal movements in this period. The “Evangelistic Awakening” of
European society affected Eastern Europe, bringing the first groups of
evangelical missionaries that were to change the existing religious pic-
ture of societies in this region to a considerable extent.
In this time of dramatic changes to the borders of states (the break-
up of the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy and the Ottoman and Russian
empires and the creation of new national states such as the Kingdom of
A.D. Milovanović (*) 
Institute for Balkan Studies, SASA, Belgrade, Serbia
R. Radić 
Institute for Recent History of Serbia, Belgrade, Serbia

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_2
12 A. D. MILOVANOVIĆ AND R. RADIĆ
Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes), Orthodox churches faced crisis and a num-
ber of challenges, among which were encounters with different religious
influences, such as Catholicism and various neo-Protestant or evangelical
traditions. Various Reformation movements, which appeared in Eastern
Europe later than in other parts of the continent, had a catalytic role
in changing religious practices among Orthodox believers. The emer-
gence of these new churches had a profound social, cultural and politi-
cal impact on the region. In this inter-religious encounter, the Orthodox
churches responded differently. Some had more organized forms of
church renewal; others formed smaller fraternities or responded with
informal gatherings of believers and inspiring preachers. Common for
all these movements for religious renewal among Orthodox believers was
their simultaneous appearance in different areas of Eastern Europe at the
end of the nineteenth and first years of the twentieth centuries.
The renewal movements presented in the volume were all character-
ized by intensity of personal religious experience, holiness, discipline,
communion, Scriptural authority, the use of vernacular languages in
liturgical practice, hymn chanting, prayer, and the revival of pilgrim-
ages and monasticism. The beginning of the twentieth century was
marked by the development of their organizational capacities, which
allowed them to become mass phenomena in the interwar period. They
were all Christian in origin, although they varied in terms of their size,
influence, methods for attracting members, behaviour and attitudes
towards the Church and society. Established churches responded differ-
ently according to the specific circumstances, but most sought to chan-
nel these movements, aware that they could provoke religious renewal
but also might have devastating consequences if they developed beyond
Church control. The correlation and mutual influence between renewal
movements was especially visible in border areas, such as between the
Romanian Lord’s Army, the Bulgarian fraternities and the Serbian God
Worshippers. This phenomenon has not been researched enough, espe-
cially since contemporary fieldwork suggests the need for further in-
depth studies.
Increasing interest in the roles and functions of Eastern Orthodox
Churches in Europe has resulted in the publication of a great many stud-
ies on this topic in the fields of history of religion, theology and the
anthropology of religion.1 In the recent studies published on Eastern
Christianity from the perspective of the anthropology of religion, the
main focus has been on how religion was lived and transformed after
2 INTRODUCTORY: UNDERSTANDING RENEWAL … 13
communism in Eastern Europe.2 This has brought new insights into the
changes that became visible after communism which developed during
and even before the communist era. Relying on contemporary anthro-
pological sources, we can observe how religious practices are change-
able and influenced by different cultural and socio-political situations.
Nevertheless, notions of “historical continuity” and “unchanging tra-
dition” are still dominant discourses in the Orthodox world. As Chris
Hann stresses, “Eastern Christians have their own complex histories,
including disputes over theology as well as ecclesiastical organization,
problematic relations with secular powers, and missionary expansion”.3
This collected volume is an attempt to step beyond discipli-
nary boundaries and analyse the diversity and similarities in Eastern
Christianity from an interdisciplinary perspective. Without relying on a
pre-existing definition, the volume intends to bring together research in
this area and to try to clarify the term ‘renewal’ in Eastern Orthodoxy
through case studies. The concept of renewal in Christianity has been
widely explored, although little focus has been placed on Eastern
Europe and its diverse understandings of this term. This diversity within
Orthodox Christian renewal movements was reflected in the existence
of several independent movements in the Eastern Orthodox world.
Building on findings related to these movements in Eastern Europe, as
well as many controversies and differences in interpretation, we found it
necessary to gather scholars focusing on this topic and create a new study
that combines different scholarly approaches. In doing so, we hope to
provide a coherent picture of the development and impact of Orthodox
renewal movements. In several national contexts, these movements had
complex and sometimes different histories, but shared many common
features. Their role was significant not only for the Orthodox churches
in a variety of national contexts but also for the long-term relationship
between political ideologies and state systems.
Thematically, the volume deals with the renewal movements that
appeared in the late nineteenth and the first half of the twentieth centu-
ries throughout the Orthodox world. Our primary interest is in religious
renewal movements in the different countries of Eastern Europe where
Orthodoxy is the predominant religion. From the late nineteenth cen-
tury, much has been written about the abandonment of traditional reli-
gion and the birth of “cults” or new movements in the USA and Europe
(Spiritualism, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Seventh Day Adventists, etc.). The
real rise of this research came after Second World War, with researchers
like the sociologist Bryan Wilson, the historian Clark Elmer, Marcus
Bach and others. It is less well known that reform movements developed
among Orthodox communities as dissatisfaction with the Church and a
yearning to return to the principles of early Christianity increased.
Based on similarities and mutual impact on specific ecclesiastical and
geographical contexts, the chapters in the volume are structured into
three parts, alongside the prologue and introduction. With four chapters,
first part focuses on the Russia, the Soviet Union and Ukraine. Reform
movements, apostasy from the Orthodox Church and desires for resto-
ration had already begun in Russian Orthodoxy in the late eighteenth
century and lasted until the first half of the twentieth century. They were
born as a reaction to the general crisis in the Russian Orthodox Church.
The causes of the crisis lay in state interference in church affairs and the
transformation of the Church into a state instrument for managing sub-
jects and ideologically justifying the current political regime. The result
of the growing dissatisfaction among some believers led to an increase
in the number of apostates from the Church. At the same time, sectar-
ian movements were reinforced and new ideas both within Russia and
from outside gained weight. Growing number of believers yearned to
return to authentic Christianity and restore the principles of the early
Christian Church as an antidote against Byzantine theocracy, dogmatism,
formalism and growing unbelief. In the first four chapters, readers can
find examples of these developments such as edinoverie, Tolstoyism, the
Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood or Dukhobortsy and
renovationism (obnovlentshestvo). In addition, the evangelical movements
of Stundism (Maliovantsy), Pashkovism and Baptism that began to spread
in nineteenth-century Imperial Russia, particularly in Ukraine, had a sig-
nificant influence on Orthodox believers and others. In the second part,
several chapters are dedicated to the case of the God Worshipper move-
ment and its influence on the Serbian Orthodox Church. We have paid
special attention to the God Worshipper movement because it was the
only movement developed within the Serbian Orthodox Church that had
a strong influence on the transformation of religious life: it also attracted
thousands of believers.4 Each of the five chapters dedicated to the God
Worshipper movement indicates important elements for its develop-
ment: contact with other Reformation movements, language, music,
pilgrimages and its role in Serbian society. The last part of the book is
dedicated to movements in Greece, Romania and Bulgaria: while being
specific, they had many similarities and maintained connections with the
God Worshipper Movement. These movements appeared in the same

nineteenth-century environment, in the process of the “nationaliza-
tion of Orthodoxy” during which, as Amaryllis Logotheti points out via
Roudometof’s definition, “God became in effect not a universal God,
but the God of a particular nation”. In the Kingdom of Romania, the
rediscovery of Scripture and Christ at the beginning of the twentieth
century had two major effects on the Romanian context and the pro-
voked the appearance of Oastea Domnului (the Lord’s Army), a unique
movement for spiritual renewal within the Romanian Orthodox Church.
Oastea Domnului had great influence over believers in the Romanian
Orthodox Church in the Yugoslav Banat in the interwar period. The
Brotherhood of Theologians Zoe evolved from a semi-monastic brother-
hood as a result of a religious revival in Greece and its members’ desire
for spiritual growth. The reasons for the establishment of such a religious
organization lay in the unresolved relations between the Church and the
State and a crisis in the Greek Orthodox Church and society. Influenced
by the Protestant example, the brotherhoods had a communal, semi-
monastic character and accepted the three virtues of traditional Orthodox
monasticism: celibacy, poverty and obedience. The case of the Union of
the Christian Orthodox Fraternities in the Kingdom of Bulgaria was to
some extent different because it was founded within the framework of
the Bulgarian Orthodox Church. The main reason for its establishment
was to foster monasticism in the country and revive the influence of the
Church in society. It was inspired by Catholic orders and social organi-
zations such as the Red Cross and the Child Protection Union, and it
combined the monastic life with social activities and public events. It con-
solidated existing organizations at parish level “into one living spiritual
body”, validated charity as a meaningful relationship between the clergy
and laity and supported the restoration of the traditional authority of the
BPC in social and national terms.
Orthodox Christian Renewal Movements in Eastern Europe repre-
sents a pioneering study, based as it is on the idea of bringing together
particular case studies in order to identify how renewal movements
developed in each national Orthodox Church and had a similar impact
on changing religious practices, language, music and religious life
in general. The closest comparable titles in this field are the studies of
Bojan Aleksov, Religious Dissent between the Modern and the National:
Nazarenes in Hungary and Serbia 1850–1914 (2006), Lucian Leustean
(ed.), Orthodox Christianity and Nationalism in Nineteenth Century
Southeastern Europe (2014), Andrii Krawchuk and Thomas Bremer

(eds.) Eastern Orthodox Encounters of Identity and otherness: Values, Self-
Reflection, Dialogue (2014) and Ines Murzaku (ed.), Monasticism in
Eastern Europe and the Former Soviet Republics (2016). Although these
studies cover various aspects of both historical and contemporary devel-
opments of Eastern Orthodoxy, renewal movements were not their main
research focus. Inspired by existing studies on the appearance of renewal
in other Christian churches, especially within Pentecostal and charismatic
groups, this volume makes a particular contribution to studying the
notion of renewal in Eastern Orthodoxy.
Individual chapters examine what we understand by the term
renewal in Orthodox traditions. More precisely, case studies in the vol-
ume include the God Worshippers in Serbia. The studies dedicated to
this example look at the following aspects: the spread of the Nazarenes5
among the Serbs and their influence on the God Worshippers (Bojan
Aleksov); the emergence and development of the God Worshippers
in the Serbian Orthodox Church (Radmila Radić and Aleksandra
Djurić Milovanović); the influence of the God Worshipper movement
on the language policies of the Serbian Orthodox Church (Ksenija J.
Končarević); the characteristics of God Worshipper melopoetic experi-
mentation (Dragan Ašković); and links between the movement and pil-
grimages (Dragana Radisavljević Ćiparizović). Three contributions are
devoted to specific cases, such as religious fraternities in Bulgaria (Galina
Goncharova), the Zoe movement in Greece (Amaryllis Logotheti) and
the “charismatic” Maliovannyi religious movement in the Ukrainian
provinces of the late Russian Empire (Sergei Zhuk). The essay on the
Dukhobortsy sectarians (who, like the Nazarenes in Serbia, were
an eighteenth-century Protestant-esque sect that had an impact on
the Russian Orthodox Church) in Russia (Svetlana Inikova) and the
“Renovationists” in the Soviet state (Mikhail Vitalievich Shkarovskiy)
analyse the phenomenon of renewal in Russian Orthodoxy. Corneliu
Constantineanu’s contribution offers an example of church renewal in
Romania and highlights the enduring power of Scripture to change lives
and renew communities within an Eastern Orthodox context. Following
Constantineanu’s chapter, Mircea Măran explores the spread of Oastea
Domnului among Romanian Orthodox Christians in the part of the
Banat given to the Kingdom of Yugoslavia after the First World War.
Attention is paid also to key figures in renewal movements, from
the individual contribution about the reformist churchman in late
imperial Russia Father Ioann Verkhovskii (James White) to the dis-

cussions in several chapters dedicated to other prominent figures like
Archimandrite Efsevios Matthopoulos, Bishop Nikolaj Velimirović, the
Romanian Orthodox priests Dumitru Cornilescuand Dumitru Popescu
and Iosif Trifa (the founder of the Lord’s Army) and the Romanian
Orthodox peasant poet Traian Dorz, the second leader of the Lord’s
Army in Romania.
Primarily analysed from historical, anthropological, sociological and
theological points of view, the case studies presented in this collection
bring us new data on the development of Orthodoxy in Eastern Europe
from the late nineteenth to the first half of the twentieth centuries as it
collided with novel influences. Studying the aforementioned religious
and social changes from an interdisciplinary perspective, our aim is not
to create a theoretical study on renewal movements in Orthodoxy, but to
indicate, on the basis of empirical data, how Orthodox Christianity was
transformed by various influences such as other non-Orthodox religious
traditions, charismatic leaders, women’s agency, and new religious prac-
tices and rituals. In this context, the term renewal reveals the dynamic
of change within Orthodox churches expressed in the development
of these movements. By tracing various transformations in Orthodox
churches, the volume also seeks to explore the influence that modern
ideas had on Orthodox religious movements, as well as the methods by
which traditional religions faced the challenges of modernity. Thus, it
represents an important step in contextualizing the social role of church
institutions, social welfare, experiences of modernity and the patterns of
social developments. The volume demonstrates the correlation of move-
ments in different Orthodox countries and the similarities and differ-
ences between them (e.g. similar responses of the Orthodox Churches
to the challenges of secularization, the influx of liberal ideas from the
West and the appearance of new religious traditions such as neo-Prot-
estant communities). Some chapters indicate how different branches of
Protestant Christianity had a significant influence on the development of
these movements. During the Second World War and the communist era
in the countries of Eastern Europe, most of these movements ended up
going underground or vanishing. Even though their influence weakened
in the second half of the twentieth century, it is still present today. Based
on the presented case studies in the volume, future research on renewal
movements in Eastern Europe could bring new insights into their devel-
opment in the post-communist context, especially in terms of religious
revival after years of state atheism.
The most significant innovation in modern religious culture is a grow-

ing interest in what the anthropologist of religion Paul Heelas terms
“self-religions”. The Orthodox churches in Eastern Europe were not
excluded from the broader changes taking place within the Christian
world at the beginning of the twentieth century. This period has been
characterized by believers’ growing alienation from churches, the sepa-
ration of Church and State and the rise of religiosity with an emphasis
on personal involvement. Religious changes and mutual influences within
different Orthodox traditions are taken together in this volume with the
aim to provide a deeper understanding of renewal processes in the spir-
itual landscape of Orthodoxy.
Notes
1. Ware (1991, 1993, 1997 and 2015 [first published 1964]), Fitzgerald
(1998), Lossky (2001), Losch (2002), Binns (2002), Angold (2006),
Jenkins (2008), Parry (2010), Casiday (2012), Louth (2013), Leustean
(2014), Krawchuk, Bremer (2014), Murzaku (2015).
2. Cannell (2005), pp. 335–356. Hann, Hermann (2010), Roudometof,
Agadjanian, Pankhurst (2005).
3. Hann (2011), p. 25.
4. The modern borders of Serbia contain the territories of different politi-
cal entities from the past—Austria, Hungary, the Principality of Serbia,
the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenians, and the Kingdom of
Yugoslavia—and different organizations of the Serbian Orthodox Church.
5. The Nazarenes in the Habsburg Monarchy and its successor states are to
be distinguished from the American denomination known as the Western
Holiness Church of the Nazarene, which emerged around the turn of the
twentieth century in USA. The Nazarenes in this volume represent a dif-
ferent group from the one in the USA. In Europe, they were known as
the Evangelical Baptist Church, which was founded in the early 1830s by
Samuel Heinrich Fröhlich from Switzerland. The turn of the nineteenth
century saw the peak of Nazarene expansion in Hungary, but it also wit-
nessed the beginning of a wave of ongoing overseas emigration. German-
speaking immigrants led the way in establishing contacts with their
overseas brethren (Frohlich’s followers from Switzerland and Germany,
who had already established their communities in the USA and Canada).
As soon as news about their freedoms and opportunities reached the
Hungarian plain, Serbs, Slovaks, Hungarians and Rumanians followed,
all joining the Apostolic Christian Church, as the Nazarenes are called in
America. The ACC took root in America in 1847, when a Church was
organized in Lewis County, New York. As immigrants came from Europe

(mostly from the Froehlich churches) and new converts joined in the
USA, the Church flourished. By 1907, they already outnumbered the old
Swiss and German congregations and started their own Church in Akron,
Ohio, and elsewhere. Disagreements arose over some of the customs of the
European immigrants and the use of German, which was the official lan-
guage of congregations in America and Canada until the early decades of
the twentieth century. The ACC split into the ACC of America (ACCA),
the ACC Nazarene (ACCN), and the German Apostolic Christian Church.
Almost all of the brethren descending from Austro-Hungary and its suc-
cessor states later joined the ACCN, which remained the more conserv-
ative branch (the fact that only church members could witness baptisms
and weddings, the practice of separate seating for men and women dur-
ing church services, etc. clashed with views and practices of American
members). In some churches, services are still held in Serbian, in others in
Romanian, Slovak and Hungarian. Aleksov (2006), pp. 180–181.
References
Aleksov‚ B. 2006. Religious Dissent between the Modern and the National.
Nazarenes in Hungary and Serbia 1850–1914. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz
Verlag.
Angold, Michael (ed.). 2006. The Cambridge History of Christianity. In Eastern
Christianity. vol. 5. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Binns, John. 2002. An Introduction to the Christian Orthodox Churches.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Bishop Kallistos (Timothy) Ware. 2015 [first published 1964]. The Orthodox
Church (revised original ed.). New York: Penguin Books.
Cannell, Fenella. 2005. The Christianity of Anthropology. Journal of the Royal
Anthropological Institute 11: 335–356.
Casiday, Augustine (ed.). 2012. The Orthodox Christian World. Abingdon and
New York: Routledge Worlds.
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Publishers.
Hann, Chris. 2011. Eastern Christianity and Western Social Theory. Erfuter
Vortäge zur Kulturgeschichte des Orthodoxen Christentumus 10: 25.
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Perspective. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Jenkins, Philip. 2008. The Lost History of Christianity. New York: Harper Collins.
Krawchuk, Andrii, and Thomas Bremer (eds.). 2014. Eastern Orthodox
Encounters of Identity and Otherness: Values, Self-Reflection, Dialogue. New
York: Oxford University Press.
Leustean, Lucian N. (ed.). 2014. Orthodox Christianity and Nationalism in

Nineteenth-Century Southeastern Europe. New York: Fordham University
Press.
Losch, Richard R. 2002. The Many Faces of Faith: A Guide to World Religions
and Christian Traditions. Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans.
Lossky, Vladimir. 2001. Orthodox Theology: An Introduction. Crestwood, NY:
SVS Press.
Louth, Andrew. 2013. Introducing Eastern Orthodox Theology. Dowers Grove,
IL: Kindle Edition, IVP Academic.
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Soviet Republics. London and New York: Routledge Taylor & Francis Group.
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Jersey: Wiley-Blackwell.
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Eastern Orthodoxy in a Global Age. Tradition faces the Twenty-first Century.
Lanham: Altamira Press.
Ware‚ T. 1964. The Orthodox Church. Baltimore: Penguine Books.
PART I
Orthodox Christian Renewal Movements

in Russia, The Soviet Union and Ukraine
CHAPTER 3
Ritual, Ecclesia, and the Reform of Russian

Orthodoxy: The Life and Thought of Ioann
Verkhovskii, 1818–1891
James M. White
Introduction
On 30 January 1885, Father Ioann Verkhovskii abandoned his church
in St. Petersburg and took a train to Moscow.1 One of his parishioners
had informed him that the authorities of the Russian Orthodox Church
were about to take disciplinary measures against him for his advocacy of
Old Belief, a semi-legal set of schismatic movements that had for cen-
turies contested the legitimacy of the Church and its rituals.2 Upon
arrival in Moscow, he met with sympathisers who took him to the sen-
ior prelate of the Belaia Krinitsa Old Believer hierarchy for a blessing.
After removing his clerical garb and cutting his hair into a secular style,
he was taken across the Austrian border to begin a peregrinate exist-
ence flitting between Old Believer monasteries in the Balkans.3 Soon
after Verkhovskii’s flight, the Holy Synod, the Church’s governing body,
excommunicated him.4
J.M. White (*) 
Ural Federal University, Ekaterinburg, Russia

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_3
24 J.M. White
Verkhovskii’s career within the Russian Orthodox Church came

to such a dramatic dénouement because of his controversial system of
thought. At its most complex, this system melded ecclesiological pop-
ulism, Slavophile nationalism, and religious reformism to present a prob-
ing critique of the Russian Orthodox Church as an institution lacking
in canonical, national, and popular legitimacy. Furthermore, Verkhovskii
consistently declared that ‘my aim […] is the victory of Old Belief’: he
intended to obtain the legitimisation of the Old Believer schismatics, the
oldest native foes of the Church.5 For him, Old Belief was a source of
national piety that could be used to restore the position of Orthodoxy in
Russia.
Verkhovskii was not alone in critiquing the Orthodox Church during
the reign of Alexander II (1855–81), whose ‘great reforms’ allowed for
a freer and franker exchange of opinions on previously taboo subjects:
dissatisfaction with the Church grew increasingly prevalent as the nine-
teenth century drew to its close. Peter the Great’s (1682–1725) decision
in 1721 to abolish the patriarchate and replace it with a collegial Synod
closely joined to the state through the powerful position of the ober
procurator came under fire from many secular and ecclesiastical com-
mentators, who rued continual state inference in religious matters and
the episcopate’s consequent lack of freedom. As one anonymous writer
put it, this situation put the bishops ‘into an entirely mute and slavish
dependence on the ecclesiastical collegium [the Synod]’.6
Others attacked the destitution and powerlessness of the clergy.7 Peter
had burdened them with myriad government duties, the most notorious
of which was the demand that they report any seditious acts related dur-
ing confession. Catherine the Great (1762–96) worsened the situation
by secularising ecclesiastical lands in 1764, leaving the Church unable
to pay priests a wage. They had to demand payments from their parish-
ioners for the performance of religious rites.8 This, combined with the
aforementioned transformation of the clergyman into an agent of the
state, led to a loss of clerical prestige, which helped drive many Russians
into the waiting arms of the Old Believers and other sects.
Modernisation and Alexander II’s reforms exacerbated these prob-
lems. Changes to censorship opened the door to the public promulga-
tion of new ideas that challenged Orthodoxy’s theological outlook and
material position. One of the most prominent of these ideologies was
nationalism. While a great many proponents of nationalism argued that
Orthodoxy was one of the defining tenets of the Russian nation, the
3 RITUAL, ECCLESIA, AND THE REFORM OF RUSSIAN ORTHODOXY … 25
Church itself regarded nationalism with circumspection, especially since

‘a model of nationality in which culture and ancestry assumed leading
roles threatened its conception of the “universal Church”’. As a political
as well as a religious institution, it had ‘an innate suspicion of politically
disruptive forces such as nationalism’.9 This left the Synod unable and
unwilling to exploit nationalism in support of the Church, and nation-
alists increasingly looked beyond its walls for a better representative of
Russian Orthodoxy.
Meanwhile, urbanisation and industrialisation created a new proletar-
iat that the Church was ill-equipped to handle. A lack of churches and
priests posed a problem both in the depths of the Russian countryside
and the darkness of the urban slums.10 Paradoxically, the Church both
encouraged and feared popular participation: the piety of the people
could revive the position of Orthodoxy in Russian society, but might also
run out of control, challenging the role of the Church as the sole inter-
preter of Christian doctrine and undermining the stability of the state.11
This general crisis shaped the ideas and actions of Verkhovskii and
cotemporaneous clerical critics. However, he was distinguished from
others by his unusual position in the Church: he was not a normal
Orthodox priest, but a edinoverie one. This meant that he was a mem-
ber of the peculiar uniate movement forged in 1800 to help bring the
Old Believers back into the Church. Edinoverie possessed Old Believer
rituals and some elements of their parish organisation, but it was subor-
dinated to Orthodox bishops.12 His experiences within this marginalised
and controversial group proved formative, and it was on edinoverie that
he was to have his greatest influence, opening the door to those who saw
its Old Believer legacy as a vector for Orthodox renewal.
Old Belief and Edinoverie

In the early 1650s, Patriarch Nikon (Minin) began a series of reforms
intended to erase errors in Russian rituals.This process would be aided
through a comparison with Greek rites, which were supposedly older.
However, the relatively minor changes (crossing oneself and others with
three fingers rather than two, the spelling of the name of Jesus, process-
ing around the church counterclockwise rather than clockwise, and oth-
ers) incurred spirited resistance.13 Backed by Tsar Aleksei Mikhailovich
and senior figures from the churches of the Orthodox East, the Great
Moscow Council of 1666–67 placed the old rituals and those who used
26 J.M. White
them under anathema. By the beginning of the eighteenth century, it is

possible to talk about the resistance to the ritual reforms as Old Belief.14
Old Belief was sizeable: it is estimated that there were between 10 and
20 million Old Believers in 1900.15 It was not a homogenous move-
ment, but was rather constituted by various different groups. The most
notable and earliest division was between those who continued main-
taining a priesthood (the priestly, popovtsy) and those who abandoned it
entirely in favour of lay leadership (the priestless, bespopovtsy). It should
be emphasised at this early point that Verkhovskii thought in terms of
the traditions of the priestly Old Believers and directed his energies in
their direction. The priestless had ‘fallen so far from unity with the Holy
Church’ that not even his proposed reforms would bring them back:
only God’s grace could save them.16
The attitude of the state towards Old Belief underwent profound
changes. Initially, the Old Believers were treated as heretics and sub-
jected to brazen force, torture, and execution.17 Some Old Believers
chose active resistance and rebelled, while others fled or burnt them-
selves alive. Peter the Great opted for a more moderate course, tolerating
their existence so long as they paid a double poll tax and wore distinc-
tive clothing.18 Catherine the Great went further and gradually removed
many of the earlier restrictions, which allowed for the establishment of
public Old Believer centres.19
The Church also took a laxer approach. Platon (Levshin), later the
metropolitan of Moscow, wrote an exhortation in 1766 which declared
that difference in ritual was no reason for strife and division, a view that
offered the possibility that the pre-Nikonian rituals might be allowed
back within the Church.20 Some Old Believer communities took advan-
tage of this opportunity for reconciliation in the 1780s: two parishes
were founded where Old Believer converts to the Orthodox Church
could continue to practise the old rituals and have priests from the
Church who swore to use the old liturgical books and rites.21 However,
Platon and other high-ranking members of the Synod were less amena-
ble to this idea in practice than they were in theory: it would only create
‘prejudice to our holy ritual, books, and the authority of the Church’.22
Ultimately, they feared that this arrangement would be a schismatic fifth
column inside Orthodoxy.
Emperor Paul was more zealous than his mother in pursuing this par-
ticular form of reconciliation. In 1800, Metropolitan Platon reluctantly
entered into negotiations with some Muscovite Old Believers to establish
such a parish in the old capital. On 27 October, the agreement between

Platon and the converts was turned into a set of rules to be applied
whenever Old Believers asked to join the Church while maintaining their
old rites. This union was dubbed edinoverie, the united faith.
The union was constituted by 16 rules and two supplementary opin-
ions, which laid down the administrative, sacramental, and communal
structures of edinoverie.23 While the edinovertsy had some privileges
(the right to elect their clergy was most notable), they also suffered
from restrictions.24 Most famous were rules five and eleven: the former
declared that Orthodox parishioners were only allowed to join edinoverie
if they had never taken communion in an Orthodox Church, while the
latter decreed that Orthodox parishioners could only take the sacrament
from a edinoverie priest in cases of mortal danger. The second supple-
mentary opinion also posited ‘the good hope that with time God will
enlighten those who join [edinoverie] and that they will come to agree
that in nothing will they be different from the Church’; in other words,
Platon expected the edinovertsy to eventually abandon their old rites. All
of this made edinoverie seem like a second-class version of Orthodoxy
explicitly designed to undermine the pre-Nikonian rituals. This could
only make new converts question the Church’s commitment to the old
rites and the status of edinoverie vis-à-vis the rest of Russian Orthodoxy.
Further casting doubt on edinoverie’s legitimacy was the question of
the seventeenth-century anathemas. Platon did not repeal the anathemas
on the rituals; rather, he reinterpreted them to suggest that the proscrip-
tions fell not on the rituals themselves, but on the individuals who used
them to signify their rejection of the Church’s authority. Since the edi-
novertsy no longer renounced the Church, the anathemas did not apply
to them and thus there was no need for repeal of the anathemas. In this
way, it was both possible to maintain the anathemas and accept the old
rituals back into Orthodoxy.25 However, some in edinoverie were less
than convinced by this argument, leading them to worry that their rituals
were still under ban.
Despite a slow start, edinoverie expanded considerably in the reign
of Nicholas I (1825–55), from ten parishes in 1825 to 223 in 1864.26
However, this growth was brought about by renewed persecution of
Old Belief.27 Believing that political loyalty was synonymous with mem-
bership of the Church, Nicholas seized Old Believer religious prop-
erty, closed or converted monasteries, and forbade civil marriage: this
28 J.M. White
rendered Old Believer marital unions, and any children they produced,
illegitimate.28
However, despite this expansion, the Church did little to alleviate the
problems caused by Platon’s rules. Metropolitans Filaret (Drozdov) and
Grigorii (Postnikov) both penned defences of Platon’s interpretation of
the anathema and stated that edinoverie was completely Orthodox.29 In
1832, the rule that prohibited the Orthodox from joining edinoverie was
mitigated somewhat, but was certainly not abolished. These actions did
not answer the basic substance of the complaints against edinoverie (that
it was not fully Orthodox and that its ritual remained under anathema).
The promise of the liberalisation of Old Belief’s position during the
reign of Alexander II made these criticisms especially pointed.
Early Life
Ioann Verkhovskii was descended from a long line of Orthodox priests.
However, his grandfather converted to priestly Old Belief in 1815. In
1818, Verkhovskii’s father, Timofei, decided to return to the Church on
the basis of edinoverie: in less than a decade, he was appointed as the
priest of the opulent Nikol’skaia parish in St. Petersburg. In the 1840s,
as Nicholas I ratcheted up the persecution against the Old Believers,
Timofei was invited for a personal audience with the tsar about how to
best convert the Old Believers of Chernigov province. He led several
conversion campaigns in that region which involved a personal visit from
Nicholas himself.30 When Timofei died in 1879, he was the archpriest in
charge of the edinoverie parishes of the capital.31
It is impossible to state how close the two Verkhovskiis were. Their
writing styles and careers suggest dramatically different personalities.
It would be hard to find a more striking contrast to Ioann’s eloquent,
sardonic, and furiously critical prose than the plodding, timid placidity
of Timofei’s texts. Ioann’s career was marked by disputes with consisto-
ries and bishops, and ended in excommunication and exile: Timofei was
showered with awards and praise until the end of his life. The contrast
perhaps owes its existence to the absence of paternal influence at a crucial
stage in Ioann’s development. In 1832, at the age of 14, he accompanied
his father’s cousin, Nikodim (Lebedev), when the latter began a peripa-
tetic career as a clerical educator. Verkhovskii thus spent 12 years of his
life attending church educational establishments in Saratov, Irkutsk, and
Perm’. Nikodim was certainly no surrogate father to the young man in
his charge: ‘due to the extreme neglect of my uncle, I was under the vile
tyranny of servants’.32
In 1842, Verkhovskii returned to St. Petersburg and was appointed as
a sexton in the Milovskaia church the following year: he and his rather
sizeable family were to remain there until his exile almost 43 years later.
A few short months after his appointment, his parishioners elected him
as the priest of the parish. This right to elect parish officials led to a clash
between Verkhovskii and the ecclesiastical authorities in 1849. The right
of parishioners to choose their parish elders and caretakers was con-
tested by the Milov family, the descendants of the founder of the church.
Verkhovskii, who framed the argument as one between ‘representative’
and ‘personal’ authority, sided with the parishioners, considering such
to be his duty as their spiritual father.33 However, the metropolitan of
Petersburg sided with the Milovs.
The weight that Verkhovskii placed on his role as a shepherd to his
flock in this conflict was to be the main source of his later repudiation
of the rules of Platon and the edinoverie they had created. This arrange-
ment, he remarked, treated the edinovertsy like they were less than fully
Orthodox and had as its ultimate aim the destruction of the pre-Niko-
nian rites. The edinoverie priest was thus in a difficult position: ‘edino-
verie priests should be either with their bishops, i.e. recognise the old
ritual and edinoverie as non-Orthodox and consequently dissemble
before their spiritual children and hypocritically perform this ritual, or be
with their spiritual children’ and oppose the prelates.34
Verkhovskii chose the latter option, which led to several clashes
with the diocesan authorities when they demanded he strictly observe
the delineation between edinoverie and Orthodoxy: he felt that to do
so would make him a ‘spy’ and a ‘secret missionary’ among his flock.35
These conflicts did his career no good, which embittered him: he often
complained about not receiving the awards and promotions he felt he
deserved.36 The feeling that the rules of edinoverie compromised his
profession, his conscience, and his career was undoubtedly the psycho-
logical source of his ideas.
Church, Ritual, Nation

Verkhovskii identified his ‘work’ as having started on 2 May 1858, when
he wrote his first petition to Alexander II. This can be seen as the initial
iteration of a system of thought that was only to become more complex
30 J.M. White
as the decades passed. Given the repetitive nature of these arguments,

and the fact that the fragmentary epistolary evidence makes it difficult to
trace any evolution in detail, it is best to consider the system as a whole.
Church
Ecclesiology was a hot topic of debate in late nineteenth-century Russian
theology.37 The view of the episcopate was embodied in the studies of
Metropolitan Makarii (Bulgakov), who relegated the laity to ‘the periph-
ery of the Church’s institutional life’.38 Verkhovskii took a dim view of
this, condemning it as Roman Catholic ‘popery’ which Makarii had
uncritically copied into Orthodoxy.39 Instead, Verkhovskii based his con-
cept of the Church on two ‘divine’ principles: sobornost’ and vybornost’,
both of which were ‘unthinkable without the other’.40 The former meant
the ‘harmonious interaction of authority and freedom in [the Church]’.41
The Church was a free union of believers bound together in forms of
authority sanctioned by God. Verkhovskii took this idea directly from
Slavophile thinkers like Aleksei Khomiakov, who characterised the Church
as ‘freedom in unity’ and Orthodoxy as the ideal balance between the
authoritarianism of Catholicism and the individualism of Protestantism.42
On the other hand, vybornost’ (‘electiveness’) was the principal way
in which the freedom of the members of the Church was manifested in
the forms of authority: members of the parish elected their leader, the
priest; the priests of a diocese elected their leader, the bishop; and so on,
all the way to the patriarch.43 The ecumenical council (sobor) was the
highest embodiment of the divine principles of sobornost’ and vybornost’,
the infallible pinnacle at which a divinely inspired and elected hierarchy
came together to decide upon universally binding dogmas.44 Within this
arrangement, authority truly embodied freedom (and vice versa) because
all levels of the clerical hierarchy had been freely chosen.
In Verkhovskii’s scheme, the right to elect priests invested the laity
with a significant degree of authority: bishops ‘without popular approval
do not make a single important step in all spheres of church administra-
tion’.45 Disobeying the will of the people was a ‘crime’, and the people
were not bound to obey any ruling made without their consent: ignor-
ing the laity was grounds for the removal of any cleric.46 Election also
guaranteed the decentralisation of the Church, since power was invested
in the people rather than in any one person or organ of authority.
Centralisation could thus only be considered a violation of freedom and
sobornost’: ‘any central authority in the Church is the enemy of Christ’.47

This opposition to centralised authority on the grounds of divine free-
dom gave shape to Verkhovskii’s ideal form of church government: ‘it
should be theocratic in essence but purely respublica, popular, in form’.48
To provide an external safeguard to this ecclesiastical order and the
liberties of laity, Verkhovskii proposed that secular sovereigns (gosudaria)
needed to act as ‘the regulators of relations between the people and the
hierarchy’.49 The sovereigns fulfilled their role by representing their peo-
ple in church councils, where they had a veto. In terms of church–state
relations, the sovereign ‘cannot interfere in the internal affairs of the
Church’ but instead ‘observes the correctness of the management of the
national church organism’.50 The sovereign must always be on the side
of the people, even if they are wrong; in such a case, it is up to the sov-
ereign to ensure that the episcopate does not persecute the people with
undue zeal.51 As such, Verkhovskii was not an opponent of the Russian
autocracy. Indeed, he ultimately looked to the autocracy as the principal
tool for bringing about the changes he desired: ‘in the future we must
anticipate justice from our tsars and not from the bishops’.52
The modern Russian Orthodox Church obviously fell far short of
the ideal of a ‘purely theocratic republic’.53 Parishioners could not elect
their priests or dismiss hierarchs who refused to listen to their require-
ments. There had not been a council in the Russian Orthodox Church
since 1689.54 All authority was centralised in the Synod, and the state
routinely intervened in church affairs. In other words, sobornost’ and
vybornost’ had been entirely violated in Russia. The freedom of the laity
had been disposed of in favour of the authority of the bishops. Just as
the Slavophiles had done, Verkhovskii identified this lopsided situation
with the Roman Catholic Church: ‘Catholicism confessed the infallibil-
ity of the hierarchy, it renounced the people, the body of the Church’.55
The Russian Holy Synod was just as guilty of this. Its centralisation
of authority meant that it had ‘deviated from Christ and the apostolic
path’56 and become an ‘all-Russian pope’.57 Its lack of sobornost’ meant
that the Church had become an institution ‘in which the people are a
yoked, disenfranchised, and voiceless crowd, and every bureaucrat a
mute servant to those higher [than himself] and a lord to those lower’.
The Synod’s only task was ‘to extinguish spirit, life, meaning, conscience,
and freedom in the people’.58 A refusal to give the parishioners any say
or rights in the running of their churches had done much harm to ‘good
church discipline and precise fulfilment of the rituals of the liturgy’: this
32 J.M. White
was causing apostasy.59 Only the restoration of sobornost’ and vybornost’

would allow Russian Orthodoxy to compete against Protestant sects like
Stundism, ‘success in the struggle with which is impossible under our present
Church order [emphasis in the original]’.60
For Verkhovskii, the main solution to this problem was the legitimisa-
tion of Old Belief. However, he did propose some other antidotes. As
early as 1858, he called for the re-establishment of the Russian patriar-
chate and the abolition of the ober procurator of the Synod (a position
which ‘denigrates the Russian Church’); however, at this point, he was
happy for the Synod to remain and retain most of its powers.61 Not so in
an undated letter published after his exile from Russia:
Abolish the Holy All-Russian Synod, re-establish sobornost’ and vybornost’

to their full power, return to the hierarchy their holiness, and the priests to
their people: then, and only then, will the Russian Church, and with it all
of Orthodoxy, rise fully from the heap: only then, for the first time since
Peter, Aleksei, and Nikon, will it stand on its feet, looking around itself,
and the world will hear the word of Orthodoxy, like the trumpet of the
archangel.62
In total, Verkhovskii’s ecclesiology was populist, emphasising the right

of the laity to elect their clergy and have representation in the highest
organs of church administration. Verkhovskii never denied the neces-
sity of bishops (‘the heavenly stars surrounding the throne of the
Almighty’).63 However, it is clear that he believed that the imbalance
in the Church was in favour of the episcopate and therefore focused
his energies on elaborating the prerogatives of the people. It was also a
Slavophile ecclesiology: Verkhovskii’s vocabulary is drenched in some of
their favourite terms, like ‘integral’ and ‘organic’. ‘Bureaucratic’, ‘legal-
istic’, and ‘official’ were the insults that he often flung at the Synod.
Popular participation in the Church, unmediated by bureaucratic mid-
dlemen and maintained by the spirit of love and freedom, would restore
the fortunes of Orthodoxy in modern Russia.
Ritual and Nation
Verkhovskii’s theological position on the role of liturgical ritual can be
summed up in a single phrase: ‘ritual is not a dogma’.64 Humans had
created religious rituals to express devotion to God; given this worldly
providence, rites are not immutable. Furthermore, he argued, the fact

that rituals are not dogmas meant that ritual unity across the entirety
of the Ecumenical Church is not necessary. Historically, autocephalous
churches could pursue their own rites: ‘freedom in the acquisition, per-
fection, and choice of ritual is an essential part of the apostolic tradition
and a rule of wise ecumenical practice’.65 This he defined as ‘freedom
of ritual’, which was not an individual freedom, but one possessed by
national churches.
The fact that rituals were transitory in nature also meant that they
were perfectible over the passage of time. The standard by which a ritual
was deemed to be more or less perfect was set by the people (narod)
using it; indeed, ritual was an expression of nationality (narodnost’), just
as with language, customs, and faith.66 Like these other characteristics,
ritual served to define and express national identity via contrast; in the
case of the pre-Nikonian rites, the Russians loved them because they dis-
tinguished Russia and its Orthodoxy ‘from Latinism and Polonism, with
their popery and Jesuitism’.67
The Russian word narod can mean either ‘people’ or ‘nation’. In
Verkhovskii’s case, it carries both meanings: a ritual was narodnyi both
because it expressed a particular ‘national spirit’ and because it was popu-
larly chosen. If we put this into the terms of Verkhovskii’s ecclesiology, a
national ritual was compulsory for the church hierarchy since the princi-
ple of vybornost’ bound them to the will of the people.68
It was on these grounds that Verkhovskii denounced the Great
Moscow Council of 1667 and subsequent actions against the Old
Believers. The pre-Nikonian rituals were the ‘banners of the Russian
national genius, soul, character, and piety’ because they had been cho-
sen and perfected by the Russian people.69 Therefore, the decision of
Nikon, Aleksei, and the Russian episcopate to dispose of the old rituals
and make the reformed ones mandatory was an offence on several points.
Firstly, it violated the ritual choice of the people and thus vybornost’ and
sobornost’. Secondly, the Russian Orthodox Church abandoned the cen-
turies-old ecumenical tradition of ‘freedom of ritual’ and imposed in its
place a coercive ‘ritual exclusivity’.70 Thirdly, it marked the point when
the Church had forsaken Russian nationality and had turned instead to
a foreign Greek model: Aleksei and Nikon were ‘apostates from Russian
nationality [narodnosti] and Russian piety’.71 Finally, in later iterations
of his ideas, the renunciation of the old rites in 1667 marked Russia’s
‘rejection of the Panslav mission’.72 Verkhovskii turned the rituals into
34 J.M. White
symbols of Slavdom: ‘for a Rus-Slav union, a union in the name of unity

of faith, language, and ritual, there is no symbol or sign more clear than
our two fingers and the eight-pointed cross’.73
Therefore, Old Belief was not a schism but ‘loyalty to native and
patristic piety and thus a justified, canonically legal, holy, and obligatory
protest of the people, the very body of the Church, against the arbitrary
power of the bishops’.74 The persecution of Old Belief in the centuries
after the Great Moscow Council was nothing other than the unjustifiable
coercion of the popular and national spirit:
Your bishops, for loyalty to our old national ritual, cursed us in your coun-
cil, drove us from our churches, ascribed us to the schism, ganged up on
us with […] executions and torture, and we were compelled to flee from
you; we never fled from the Holy Apostolic Church, but from you, from
the ritual imposed on us, from your lashes and anathemas.75
However, what of edinoverie? Verkhovskii argued the following. In the

1760s, Catherine the Great had become conscious of the fact that rit-
ual was not dogma and, out of a desire to right the wrongs of the past
century, she ordered the Church to reconcile with the Old Believers and
their ritual: Paul had continued this great work. Verkhovskii praised these
two Russian rulers fulsomely, calling Catherine ‘the great mother of the
fatherland’: they were, in his mind, close to the ideal sovereigns from his
ecclesiology.76
However, Platon (Levshin) and the Synod had twisted the inten-
tions of the sovereigns, since they remained inured in the same spirit of
ritual intolerance and exclusivity as their seventeenth-century ancestors.
This placed them ‘far lower than the Old Believers, whom they call stu-
pid and stubborn ignoramuses’.77 Rather than bring about a full union
between the Church and Old Belief, they had created edinoverie, ‘a
pure government fiction, blindness, and nonsense’.78 The edinovertsy
were not treated as Orthodox by the Synod on account of their old ritu-
als and were subject to Platon’s desire that the edinovertsy would ulti-
mately be distinguished from the Orthodox in nothing: ‘the Synod, if
it allowed the old ritual, did so as to most appropriately and successfully
root it out [emphasis in the original]’.79 It was therefore not surprising
that edinoverie had been ‘rejected with indignation and disgust by the
straight-forward character and healthy thinking of the Russian people’.80
To add insult to injury, the Synod and Platon had refused to remove the
1667 anathemas on the old rituals and had instead promulgated a false
interpretation designed to placate the edinovertsy.
As well as establishing a link between nation and rite, Verkhovskii
argued that there was a connection between ritual and piety. In his view,
rituals did not simply express piety, but also generated it: ‘ritual is the
container, piety is the content’.81 He made the point clear in a contrast
between the discipline in edinoverie and Orthodox parishes. In the latter,
everything was impious due to a lack of ritual discipline. People talked
during the service, men and women mixed together, and ‘in the sing-
ing you hear sophistication, having as its aim not service to God, but the
sweetness of the sound’.82 Edinoverie services, in contrast, were charac-
terised by their ‘strictness of form’. Verkhovskii therefore advised that the
‘re-establishment of good order in Orthodox churches according to the
example of edinoverie services would serve the people as a great confir-
mation of respect to the church liturgy, great esteem to its performance,
and great sincerity in fulfilling the ordinances of the Church, quickly for-
gotten and left behind in day-to-day life’.83
This left one course of action open for Russia if it was to regain an
authentically national piety: the full legitimisation of Old Belief. In vari-
ous appeals and petitions, Verkhovskii set out what should be done to
accomplish this. The Church should repeal the anathemas it had placed
in 1667, allowing the old rites in Orthodox worship without question.
Freedom in choice of ritual should be extended to every Orthodox and
Old Believer parishioner. Every level of the clerical hierarchy should
be elected. Furthermore, Russian Orthodox prelates should conse-
crate three Old Believer bishops, who would then create an entire Old
Believer hierarchy. Edinoverie would cease to exist, since it could now
be directly amalgamated into the legitimised Old Believer hierarchy.
Finally, all civil laws against Old Belief had to be repealed.84 Essentially,
Verkhovskii was proposing the creation of two official Orthodox
Churches in Russia: one with the pre-Nikonian ritual and one with the
post-Nikonian ritual.
In sum, Verkhovskii’s view on rituals reflects the attempt by both
secular and ecclesiastical writers to find a national Orthodoxy out-
side of a church that seemed too compromised by its close association
with the state: the Old Believers proffered a ready-made answer to this
problem.85 By reviving the spirit of Russian nationality in the Church,
it would become a distinctive and popular institution. Furthermore, this
vision was somewhat messianic in character. Once it was realised, ‘all the
36 J.M. White
Russian Empire, from end to end, from east of the sun to the west, will
blaze with the salvational fire of apostolic grace in such abundance that
the fatherland with its light will gladden and astonish the universe’.86
Contemporary Impact
Verkhovskii once stated that ‘the noise’ caused by his activities ‘was
even heard in Constantinople’.87 Although his 1858 petition seems to
have been ignored, the one he penned to Alexander II in 1864 caused a
much greater stir. P. A. Valuev, the minister of the interior, described it
as a ‘remarkable’ document in which ‘every word breathes hatred to our
bishops’.88 There was, of course, no chance that the demands for a fully
legitimised Old Believer church would be met. However, their radicalism
did open the way for more moderate requests emerging from a group of
edinovertsy in Moscow: Valuev declared that these petitions were a ‘use-
ful counterweight’ to Verkhovskii’s ideas.89 The Synod thus considered
two reforms of edinoverie: creating edinoverie bishops and entering into
negotiations with the patriarchate of Constantinople on the question of
the anathemas.90 Although neither idea came to fruition, it was clear that
change was on the agenda.
Many of the senior prelates and statesmen of the Russian Empire
now knew Verkhovskii’s name and ideas: his attempts to publish articles
were stymied by the clerical censors.91 His next major foray into pub-
lic life came in 1874, when the Society for the Admirers of Spiritual
Enlightenment in St. Petersburg discussed the question of freedom of
ritual.92 The debates prepared the ground for another attempt at edi-
noverie reform between 1877 and 1885: the Church ultimately made
some amendments to the rules of Platon and declared that edinoverie
was unquestionably and undeniably Orthodox.93 Verkhovskii was scorn-
ful of the attempts of the edinovertsy to attain such modifications, since
they fell far short of the full and unconditional reunion of the Orthodox
Church and Old Belief.94
While Verkhovskii was one of the most prominent members of edi-
noverie, he was not suited to leadership. His caustic personality alien-
ated those who might otherwise have looked to him for guidance: he
himself admitted that ‘I am intemperate in feeling and unrestrained
in expression’.95 The Ekaterinburg edinovertsy on whose behalf he
had written the 1864 petition were shocked by his vitriolic repudia-
tion of edinoverie.96 They later broke off their association with him.97
Ultimately, Verkhovskii was outcompeted by the charismatic and much

more moderate figure of Pavel Prusskii, the abbot of a Moscow edino-
verie monastery, and his associate Professor Nikolai Subbotin.98 It was
they who were most responsible for the shape that the reforms of edi-
noverie took in the early 1880s. Verkhovskii’s influence was limited and
largely negative: the leadership of the Church sought out much more
moderate solutions to edinoverie’s problems in order to counterbalance
his ideas, which were dangerous because they threatened the Church’s
position as the only true Orthodox confession in Russia and posed a
temptation to the edinovertsy.
Exile, Death, and Afterlife

With the assassination of Alexander II in 1881 and Konstantin
Pobedonostsev’s subsequent rise to prominence, Verkhovskii’s days were
clearly numbered. Pobedonostsev’s stint as ober procurator of the Synod
was marked by firm support for the Synodal order and a distaste for the
Old Believers.99 In 1882, Pobedonostsev told Subbotin that he would
gladly punish Verkhovskii but feared that ‘to persecute him would drive
him to the schism’.100 Instead, Verkhovskii had to promise that he would
cease his activities. He promptly broke his word by writing a provocative
letter to Metropolitan Platon (Gorodetskii) in September 1884: he told
the metropolitan that the soon-to-be-convened Kiev episcopal council
lacked canonical and popular legitimacy.101 Unfortunately, this council
was one of Pobedonostsev’s own pet projects for reforming the Russian
Church.102 It was probably for this offence that Verkhovskii feared pun-
ishment when he fled Russia a few months later.
Abroad, Verkhovskii was determined to be a nuisance to the Russian
ecclesiastical authorities. Protesting his excommunication, he threat-
ened to reveal the injustice that the Old Believers suffered to the whole
world.103 However, by the time he finished publishing his complete
works in 1888, he was an old man. Stricken by illness, he sought per-
mission to return home. This was granted; however, he died only a few
weeks after arriving back in Russia on 17 January 1891.
In 1905, the April edict of religious toleration brought about one
of Verkhovskii’s most treasured goals. For all intents and purposes,
Old Belief was legitimised in the eyes of the state (although not the
Church), and most of the repressive measures against it were abandoned.
Meanwhile, crises engulfed the Orthodox Church: the majority of its
38 J.M. White
bishops demanded the restoration of the patriarchate and the convening

of a local church council to renew Orthodoxy.104
Unsurprisingly, Verkhovskii’s influence in this new context was most
pronounced among the edinovertsy. Father Simeon Shleev, the self-
appointed national leader of edinoverie after 1905, styled himself as
Verkhovskii’s spiritual successor.105 Just as Verkhovskii had done, Shleev
championed the idea that the pre-Nikon rituals could instil a Russian
form of faith among the people and reverse the damage done by the
westernised and bureaucratic Synodal system. He also campaigned for
clerical election in Orthodox parishes.106
A few senior members of the Orthodox Church also took some of
Verkhovskii’s ideas forward. Archbishop Antonii (Khrapovitskii) of
Volyna agreed that Old Belief represented a more authentic Russian
form of Orthodoxy than that in the official Church, although he held
no truck with democratic ideas of parish management.107 This motivated
Antonii to look favourably on edinoverie and to attempt to open a dis-
cussion with some of the Old Believers about the conditions for reuni-
fication.108 Bishop Andrei (Ukhtomskii’s) ideas also bear Verkhovskii’s
imprint. Routinely condemning the Synod’s ‘caesaro-papism’, Andrei
made priests elected in his diocese of Ufa in 1916. Furthermore, he
regarded the Old Believers as the preservers of Russian Orthodoxy’s pre-
Petrine piety.109 However, when he tried to accomplish a reunion with
the schism in 1925 by creating Old Believer bishops, the Church con-
demned him as an apostate.110
This latter-day following may suggest that some of Verkhovskii’s ideas
had resonance within some strands of church politics. However, debates
within the Local Council of the Russian Orthodox Church in 1917–18
made it clear that he remained an embattled figure. When his name was
mentioned in the context of edinoverie reform, he was both decried as
the leader of ‘the schismatic edinovertsy’111 and defended as someone
who had ‘warmly loved the Church’.112 Verkhovskii proved as divisive in
death as he had been in life: he was someone whose name could be used
to both castigate and justify radical modifications to edinoverie.
Conclusion
Verkhovskii’s thought was a reaction to a general crisis within the
Russian Orthodox Church in the late nineteenth century. The roots of
this predicament lay in constant state interventions in church affairs, a
lack of canonical legitimacy, a perceived loss of adherents in the cities

and countryside, concerns about the strength of sectarian movements,
and the prevalence of new ideas from both within Russia and without.
Nationalism posed a challenge to an institution that had to emphasise its
universal character. Verkhovskii’s position as a edinoverie priest gave him
a particular perspective on these issues. From this basis, he connected the
centuries-old problem of Old Belief with the dilemmas of the modern
Orthodox Church to suggest that they had one and the same solution:
the healing of the schism.
Verkhovskii was not a particularly original thinker: he owed the
Slavophiles an enormous debt. An inability to moderate his prose or
actions meant that his influence would always be marginal, even within
edinoverie. However, his passion stemmed from a sense of injustice
regarding the indignities and suffering that the Old Believers had had
to endure. He enthroned freedom and love as the guiding principles of
church order and relentlessly demanded that the people be given some
control in their religious lives. His system of thought had four basic ten-
ets: (a) a Slavophile ecclesiology which emphasised the rights of the laity;
(b) a nationalistic view on ritual which held that the pre-Nikonian rites
were the source of an authentically Russian form of piety; (c) a desire to
order the Church on a canonical basis; and (d) the resolution of the Old
Believer schism not through unilateral missionary conquest but through
genuine mutual reconciliation. This was not a liberal political creed, but
a romantic, nationalist, and populist theology. It sought relief from con-
temporary problems in an idealised past: Orthodox renewal was not to
be sought in modernisation but in a return to a golden age.
Notes
1. Verkhovskii and his thought have not yet attracted any attention in
the West. However, he has been the subject of a recent biography in
Russian. See R. A. Maiorov, “Edinoverie i lider ego soedinencheskogo
napravleniia vtoroi poloviny XIX veka sviashchennik Ioann Verkhovskii”
(Kand. diss., Moskovskii pedagogicheskii gosudarstvennyi universitet
2008); For a shorter version, see Maiorov (2014, pp. 656–89). Maiorov
is to be commended for his work in bringing the more obscure aspects
of Verkhovskii’s biography to light.
2. GARF, f. 1099, op. 1, d. 1552, ll. 45–6.
3. RGIA, f. 797, op. 55, II otd.III st., d. 62, l.1.
4. RGIA, f. 796, op. 166, d. 1432, l. 8.
40 J.M. White
5. Verkhovskii (2014, p. 529); This new edition of Verkhovskii’s writ-

ings includes all of the texts from his collected works, articles brought
to light by the Old Believer press after 1905, and some other pieces,
both published and unpublished. This new work serves as the basis for
the present article. For the original collected works, see Verkhovskii
(1886–1888).
6. As quoted in Lavrov et al. (2008, p. 35).
7. Belliustin (1985).
8. Freeze (1977).
9. Strickland (2013, p. xi).
10. Dixon (1995, pp. 119, 119–45).
11. Young (1996, pp. 367–84).
12. For the history of edinoverie, see Shleev (1910), Kaurkin and Pavlova
(2011), and White (2014).
13. For a full examination of the changes made, see Meyendorff (1990).
14. Michels (2000, pp. 228–9).
15. Pozdeeva (2009, pp. 67–8).
16. Verkhovskii (2014, p. 325).
17. Michels (2003, pp. 530–42).
18. Hughes (1998, p. 354).
19. Paert (2003, pp. 59–108).
20. Platon (Levshin) (1780, pp. 33–4).
21. Pera (1984, pp. 290–351).
22. Lysogorskii (1905, p. 466).
23. For an English translation of the rules, see White (2014, pp. 335–8).
24. The right to elect clergy had largely died off in the official Orthodox
Church by the beginning of the nineteenth century. See Freeze (1983,
p. 29).
25. Kravetskii (2004, pp. 296–344).
26. M. S. (1867, p. 197).
27. Palkin (2014, pp. 88–106).
28. Paert (2004, pp. 555–76).
29. Filaret (Drozdov) (1855), Grigorii (Postnikov) (1857).
30. Verkhovskii (1874‚ p. 81).
31. O sluzhbe protoiereia s. peterburgskoi edinovercheskoi nikol’skoi tserkvi,
Timofeiia Verkhovskogo, (1872).
32. As quoted in Maiorov (2014, p. 658).
33. Verkhovskii (2014, pp. 418–9).
34. Ibid., p. 485.
35. Ibid., p. 25.
36. Ibid., p. 28.
37. Shevzov (2004, p. 13).
38. Ibid., 28.
39. Verkhovskii (2014, p. 131).
40. Ibid., p. 154.
41. Ibid., p. 213.
42. Khoruzhii (2002, pp. 153–79).
43. Verkhovskii (2014, p. 221).
44. Ibid., p. 214.
45. Ibid., pp. 17–8.
46. Ibid., p. 221.
47. Ibid., p. 161.
48. Ibid., p. 76.
49. Ibid., p. 225.
50. Ibid., p. 163.
51. Ibid.
52. Ibid., p. 499.
53. Ibid., p. 82.
54. Ibid., p. 260.
55. Ibid., p. 55.
56. Ibid., pp. 57–8.
57. Ibid., p. 121.
58. Ibid., p. 69.
59. Ibid., pp. 320–21.
60. Ibid., p. 285.
61. Ibid., p. 323.
62. Ibid., p. 70.
63. Ibid., p. 257.
64. Ibid., p. 208.
65. Ibid., p. 230.
66. Ibid., p. 235.
67. Ibid., p. 10.
68. Ibid., p. 236.
69. Ibid., p. 276.
70. Ibid., p. 237.
71. Ibid., p. 273.
72. Ibid., p. 278.
73. Ibid., p. 273.
74. Ibid., p. 17.
75. Ibid., p. 428.
76. Ibid., p. 245.
77. Ibid., pp. 17–8.
78. Ibid., p. 9.
79. Ibid., p. 471.
42 J.M. White
80. Ibid., p. 20.
81. Ibid., p. 239.
82. Ibid., pp. 313–4.
83. Ibid., p. 314.
84. Ibid., pp. 411–6.
85. Strickland (2013, pp. 178–87).
86. Verkhovskii (2014 p. 268).
87. Ibid., p. 35.
88. Valuev (1961, p. 276).
89. Ibid., 304.
90. For discussion on the bishop question, see RGIA, f. 832, op. 1, d. 48,
l.1; for the anathemas and discussions with the Russian ambassador in
Constantinople, see RGIA, f. 796, op. 145, d. 2257, ll. 2–4.
91. Verkhovskii (2014, p. 525).
92. For more on the debates, see White (2014, pp. 95–9).
93. For the 1881 additions to the rules of Platon, see RGIA, f. 796, op. 145,
d. 2257, ll. 110–3. For the Kazan’ episcopal council’s explanation of
edinoverie, see RGIA, f. 796, op.166, d. 1486, 11. 30–1.
94. Verkhovskii (1877, pp. 2–5).
95. Verkhovskii (2014, p. 28).
96. Ibid., p. 455.
97. Ibid., p. 526.
98. Verkhovskii and Subbotin spent much of the 1870s and early 1880s
engaged in a vicious war of words. See, for instance, Subbotin (1877,
pp. 77–8).
99. Polunov (2010, p. 256).
100. Markov (1914, p. 234).
101. Verkhovskii (2014, pp. 249–89).
102. Polunov (2010, p. 248).
103. GARF, f. 1099, op. 166, d. 1486, l. 7.
104. Basil (2005, pp. 23–33).
105. ‘Letopis’ edinovercheskoi zhizni’ (1906, p. 12).
106. For Shleev’s views, see White (2014, pp. 223–58).
107. Cunningham (1981, pp. 64, 300–2).
108. Antonii (Khrapovitskii).
109. Zelenogorskii (2011, p. 37).
110. Ibid., p. 143.
111. Deianiia (1918, p. 41).
112. Notably, this defence was given by Ioann’s nephew, Sergei Verkhovskii.
Ibid., 6: 59.
Acknowledgements The completion of this article was supported by the grant

of the Russian Federation for attracting leading scholars to Russian educational
establishments of higher professional education, scientific institutions of the state
academies of science, and the state academic centres of the Russian Federation
(Laboratory for the Study of Primary Sources, Ural Federal University).
Agreement no. 14.A12.31.0004 from 26.06.2013.
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f. 1099: Filippov, Tertii Ivanovich.
CHAPTER 4
The New Doctrines of the Doukhobor

Fasters and Tolstoyism
Svetlana A. Inikova
It is correct to consider the Russian people as an Orthodox people; how-

ever, this does not mean that the Orthodox Church did not endure crises
caused by both internal problems and the composition of Russian soci-
ety. Apostasy from Orthodoxy in the form of different kinds of heresies
and sects was a clear sign of dissatisfaction with the Church among some
parts of the people. Since the Orthodox Church was turned by the state
into an instrument for managing its subjects and the ideological justifica-
tion for the existing political regime, anti-state movements were usually
also anti-Church, while anti-Church movements, one way or another,
acquired an anti-state character.
In the nineteenth century, Russia underwent two periods where anti-
Church movements intensified. In both cases, believers strove for a ‘pure
spirituality’ and spoke out against ‘Byzantine’ theatricality, pomposity,
formalism, and unfeeling dogmatism; in other words, against the cult
of externalised worship and piety. These movements, usually developing
under the banner of a return to authentic Christianity and the revival of
S.A. Inikova (*) 
Institute for Ethnology and Anthropology, Russian Academy of Sciences,
Moscow, Russia

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_4
48 S.A. Inikova
the principles of the early Christian Church, were also a reaction against
ideological unbelief, which arose in society in these periods.
The first such period encompassed the end of the eighteenth and
the beginning of the nineteenth centuries and was characterised by the
unprecedented growth of mysticism among both the nobility and the
people. It began to quickly supplement a range of sects who worshipped
God ‘in spirit and truth’ and preached about the ‘inner Church’. The
second period, which took place during a new stage of the socio-eco-
nomic development of the country, can be clearly noted in the 1870s,
growing until the end of the century and dominating the beginning of
the twentieth century.
After the abolition of serfdom in 1861, the development of capital-
ism in Russia went considerably faster. New proprietors entered the fore-
ground—both the industrial and agricultural bourgeoisie brought the
ideology of bourgeois individualism among the people. The Industrial
Revolution and technological progress raised the significance of man
and human reason in the eyes of society, thus strengthening rational-
ism. In certain circles, a strong striving for renewed religion arose: this
was a striving for a union of reason and faith which bore a new ethics
of human relations and was conscious of and free from ritual mysticism.
Partially, this striving was also a reaction to the development of nihilism
in society in this period.
The evangelical movements of Stundism,1 Pashkovism,2 and Baptism
began to spread at this time in Russia. They preached the Gospels, an
evangelical version of Jesus Christ and his expiatory sacrifice, spiritual
brotherhood, and love between peoples regardless of nationality or social
estate: they required from people a reasoned view on religion. These reli-
gious movements recruited both Orthodox believers and members of
pre-existing sects, particularly the rationalistic ones.
Distinct from this range of rapidly-spreading new beliefs stood
the moral and religious teachings of L. N. Tolstoy: this was known as
‘Tolstoyism’, which received its final form in the 1880s. Among the new
religious currents, Tolstoyism had the strongest socio-political resonance,
since it touched on the relationship of the Christian not only with the
Church but also with the state and authorities.
As early as 1855, L. N. Tolstoy noted in his diary that he had had
the idea to which he was to dedicate his life realising: ‘This idea is the
foundation of a new religion which corresponds to the development
of humanity, a religion of Christ purified of faith and mystery, a practi-
cal religion that does not promise future bliss but gives bliss on earth’.3
4 THE NEW DOCTRINES OF THE DOUKHOBOR FASTERS … 49
As we know, he managed to create such a religion, among which

appeared many followers. We will not examine its aims in detail; rather,
we will touch on some of its basic positions.
Around Lev Tolstoy formed a circle of like-minded persons from
the educated nobility and the intelligentsia: known as ‘Tolstoyans’,
they shared his views and sought to apply them to life. Among them
were people from the very highest ranks: V. D. Chertkov, Prince D. A.
Khilkov, the nobleman P. I. Biriukov, the priest’s son I. M. Tregubov,
and others. With full dedication, these people led the work of spread-
ing Tolstoy’s teachings and applying his ideas to life. In this regard, the
drafts of I. M. Tregubov’s letters addressed to P. I. Biriukov and D. A.
Khilkov, kept in the archive of the Museum of the History of Religion,
were very valuable discoveries. These documents, unique in terms of
their openness, reveal the Tolstoyans’ plans to use the sectarians in the
struggle with the Orthodox Church and the state.
The reason for these letters was a pack of catechisms from Stundists in
Kherson province that Biriukov sent to Tregubov, the reading of which
provoked delight in the latter. Tregubov wrote in a draft letter on 28
May 1888: ‘But what is to be done […] if we have no more correct
means to change life for the better, than only through the renewal of
the old faith into a newer, better one? What is to be done if our chief
strength, the people, do not accept our teachings, which are not based
on religion?’4 The Orthodox faith told the people that authority came
from God and that their eternal salvation was in the hands of the eccle-
siastical authorities. Therefore, in Tregubov’s opinion, ‘the main reason
for our failure lies precisely in the superstitious Orthodox faith of the
people […] in a word, while our people confess the Orthodox faith with
its inherent mass of superstitions, a faith which kills their spiritual and
physical strength, you have no means to hammer liberal ideas into their
heads […]’.5
Conscious of their powerlessness, Tregubov and other Tolstoyans
allocated the role of demolishers of traditional religion to the sects,
and especially the Stunde, which they considered to be more appropri-
ate for this goal and closer to Tolstoyism. The Tolstoyans correctly held
that, in general, the sectarians were more prepared to accept their ideas.
Tregubov included in a letter to Biriukov from 6 January 1889 a quote
from his work about the Stunde: ‘we need to root out Orthodoxy as the
source of all our social ills […] thus, each of our speeches, each of our
discourses on the subject of our misfortunes must conclude with the
words “Orthodoxy must necessarily be destroyed”. Everyone who can
50 S.A. Inikova
facilitate this destruction must be greeted with joy, especially the Stunde,
which has developed astoundingly quickly’.6 In a letter to Khilkov on 27
February 1889, Tregubov emphasised his solidarity with his correspond-
ent’s position, which principally put forward the socio-political side of
the Tolstoyan movement (that is to say, the destruction of Church and
state).
Tregubov considered Tolstoyism to be the lever by which it would be
possible to ‘revolutionise life’. ‘But in order for “Tolstoyism” to be such
a lever, it is necessary to spread it among the people: without the peo-
ple, nothing can be thought about any revolution. The successful spread
of Tolstoyan ideas among the people can only happen in the rationalist
sects: among the Doukhobors, Molokans, and especially the Stundists’.7
In another variant of the same letter, he wrote:
[It is impossible] to forget that our rationalist sects (Molokanism,

Doukhoborism, and others) strive to refine the wheat from the chaff. It
is not the fault of the simple people if they have not yet managed this
refinement. The intelligentsia in the person of Lev Nikolaevich and the
educated Stundists must help them perform this refinement. This help has
already been offered to our people, but this is not enough: more strength
is needed. Let us help to handle our people in their striving for truth.
To do this, we only need to spread the ideas of L. N[ikolaevich] and the
Stunde. All of our rationalist sects are inclined to accept the ideas of L.
N[ikolaevich] and the Stunde.8
Let us now turn our attention to the references to the Doukhobor sect in
these letters. As early as 1889, the Tolstoyans considered the Doukhobors
to be a potentially destructive force. In the conclusion of a letter to Khilkov
from 27 February, Tregubov presented a ‘programme for the successful and
more or less painless destruction of the Church and state’. The destruction of
the Church seemed to the author to be an easy matter: it would be sufficient
for the numerous Stundist communities to simultaneously declare their free-
dom from church obligations. The realisation of the second part of the pro-
gramme—the destruction of the state—was more complicated. It required
the majority of Stundist communities, once joined in a union linked by the
requirements of their faith, to declare themselves free from responsibilities to
the state. It simply would not be possible to put all of them in prison.9 The
events which were launched among the south Caucasian Doukhobors at the
beginning of the 1890s developed into a scenario that was close to this plan.
From the 1880s onwards, the followers of Tolstoy diligently studied

the beliefs and teachings of the Stundists, Molokans, and Doukhobors
in order to develop a kind of universal Christian confession that could
attract the members of different sects. The region in which the Stunde
was most widely spread was southern Russia. At the end of the 1880s,
several Tolstoyan centres were formed in this region. One of them was
the village of Pavlovki in the Sumskaia district of Khar’kov province,
where D. A. Khilkov lived close by on a farm. Like-minded Tolstoyans
came to him and lived there for a long time: from here, printed and
handwritten copies of Tolstoy’s works were distributed among the peas-
ants. The propaganda turned out to be very successful, and soon the
Stundists became ‘Neostundists’ who confessed Tolstoyism. The success
among the peasants in Pavlovki inspired the Tolstoyans, and they turned
their gaze to the Doukhobors living in the southern Caucasus.
These representatives of an old Russian sect, which had formed at
the beginning of the eighteenth century, had been exiled by the tsarist
government for their refusal to convert to Orthodoxy from the Tavrida
province to the mountainous regions of the southern Caucasus, which
had only recently been joined to Russia. They gradually adapted to the
difficult natural and climatic conditions, and achieved great economic
success, the respect of their native neighbours, and the favour of the
Caucasian authorities: the well-fed life of this recently rebellious sect
entered into a rut. The ‘golden age’ of Doukhoborism ended with the
death of their last legitimate leader Luker’ia Kalmykova. Peter Vasil’evich
Verigin, the favourite of Kalmykova, made a bid for power and control
over communal property, which included the capital and assets of the
so-called Orphanage, the spiritual and administrative centre of the sect
in the village of Goreloe. Verigin managed to enlist the support of the
overwhelming majority of the Doukhobors: his proponents received the
name of the ‘great party’.
The residents of Goreloe, finding themselves in the minority (and
thus dubbed the ‘small party’), did not recognise Verigin as their leader
and declared to the local authorities that he was sowing disorder in
Doukhobor society. In May 1887, P. V. Verigin was arrested and exiled
to the town of Shenkursk in Arkhangel’sk province, then to Kola, and
then finally to Obdorsk. The length of his exile was extended a few times
without any explanation. The court, reviewing and re-reviewing the
matter of the succession to Kalmykova over six years, finally transferred
the communal property to her brother in August 1893. This complex
52 S.A. Inikova
internal situation was worsened by the introduction of conscription into

the southern Caucasus in 1886. The interference of the authorities in
the inheritance of the sect’s communal property and the introduction
of conscription were regarded by those Doukhobors belonging to the
‘great party’ as an impingement on their independence and a threat to
the very existence of their society.
In February 1891, Khilkov was exiled to the Doukhobor village of
Bashkichet in Tiflis province for propagandising religious ideas among
the peasants of Pavlovki. In order to get there, he used his connections
in the Caucasus administration. In Bashkichet, there lived Doukhobors
belonging to the ‘great party’. Khilkov lived among them until April
1894: during this time, he managed to do a great deal to excite the ‘spir-
its’ of the sectarians and direct those whom he considered to have gone
astray onto a true Christian path.
In 1891, the soldiers E. N. Drozhzhin and N. T. Iziumchenko
refused to bear arms for religious reasons: the Tolstoyans, including
Khilkov, watched their fates. At the beginning of 1892, there were sev-
eral refusals to bear arms among those Pavlovki Stundists summoned
to the army: this provoked admiration and pride in D. A. Khilkov.
Tolstoyan teachings about violence were beginning to acquire vis-
ible and concrete forms in Russia, and he needed to support them.
The Doukhobors, according to tradition, already had the reputation of
pacifists; however, they all served in army after the introduction of con-
scription into the southern Caucasus, although with great reluctance.
Comparisons of the Pavlovki Stundists with the Doukhobors were not in
favour of the latter10: Khilkov very much wanted to turn them into active
adepts of non-violence.
He composed a catechism entitled the ‘Doukhobor Psalm’ and
included in it a question about their relation to war and killing: ‘what is
the most impossible deed for servants of God?’, to which the answer was:
‘War, killing, and any misanthropy is the most impossible deed for the
servants of God’. There were also questions about relations with author-
ity: the author supplied the idea that ‘whoever robs their neighbours of
money for their own satisfaction and then extorts them with it…does not
have authority from God: he is not a teacher and not a pastor’. Khilkov
gradually participated in debates with the Doukhobors and explained
these psalms from the position of Tolstoyism.
In the summer of 1892, the Tolstoyan A. Bodianskii was exiled to the
locality of Orpira in the southern Caucasus for Tolstoyan propaganda:
he corresponded with Khilkov and followed events. In 1893, still more

Tolstoyan friends of Khilkov arrived: thus, Tolstoyan colonies arose in
Orpira and Bashkichet.
Doukhobor teachings and Tolstoyism did in fact have points of con-
tiguity. Doukhoborism is one of the branches of so-called spiritual
Christianity or teachings about the ‘inner Church’. It rejected all external
worship that acted as mediation between God and man, taught that Hell
and Heaven are inside man, and that the Kingdom of God will be on
earth and not on another plane. Since the soul was created according to
the image of God, the Doukhobors worshipped one another instead of
icons and thus considered the killing of a person to be a great sin. The
Doukhobors related negatively to the Orthodox Church and the state,
which, as they put it, interfered with living according to the laws of God.
All of this very much impressed the Tolstoyans, but they did not know,
and for a long time did not even guess, that, in distinction from them,
the Doukhobors considered Jesus Christ to be one of the hypostases of
the Trinity, God the Son, who had resurrected in spirit and dwelt in their
leaders.
Thus the ‘Christ’ in whom God the Son had incarnated was, for the
Doukhobors, Peter Vasil’evich Verigin. The Tolstoyans considered Jesus
Christ to be a historically prominent person who brought into the world
his teachings about non-violence and love. Guided by these teachings,
people should reject any state organisation built on violence and the army:
this was an inherently anarchist teaching. The Doukhobors did not rec-
ognise the state, but the authority of their leaders was absolute. They
strove in the borders of the Russian empire to build their own mini-state:
this is why the Great Party reacted so sharply both to the exile of P. V.
Verigin and to the transfer of the Orphanage (the throne of the leader and
God) to the family of L. Kalmykova. All of these fundamental differences
became known to the Tolstoyans much later: for the present moment, the
Doukhobors seemed to be very suitable soil for Tolstoyan propaganda.
After the schism, the leaders of the Great Party, and P. V. Verigin
before all, understood that radical changes were needed in the life of the
sect to facilitate uniting it around the new leader and to give an impetus
to the revival of the former religious enthusiasm. Tolstoyan religious and
moral teachings, by virtue of the similarity of some of their positions to
Doukhobor teachings and the lucidly explained rejection of Church and
state, was exactly the kind of ideal platform on which the spiritual revival
of the Verigintsy could be staged.
54 S.A. Inikova
The Tolstoyans were, chiefly, representatives of the intelligentsia

and thus were few in number. The small colonies they created quickly
decayed: they did not have the strength for the kind of proactive deeds
that would attract the attention of society. Their propaganda among the
Stundists was successful, but Stundist anti-Church and anti-state actions
did not have a mass character. Someone had to proclaim the truth so that
it could be heard: they had to suffer for it and become an example for all
humanity. The Doukhobors were very much suited for this role.
Tolstoyan propaganda was aimed in two directions. Firstly, it was
directed at those rank and file Doukhobors who were sufficiently devel-
oped and literate for the Tolstoyans to be able to conduct debates with
them and to distribute appropriate literature published by the typogra-
phy Posrednik.11 However, their chief attention was directed at the lead-
ers of the Great Party and Verigin himself.
Upon arriving in Bashkichet, Khilkov immediately became interested
in the personality of Verigin and made an attempt to find someone in
his place of exile from his supporters who could take the place of the
Doukhobor leader. Verigin, thanks to the donations of his followers,
lived the high life: he had servants, played cards, and organised soirees
and hunts with refreshments. In May 1890, he was transferred from
Shenkursk to Kola, where he stayed until 1893. When he again returned
to Shenkursk, he was a completely different person: he had stopped
smoking, drinking, and eating meat, and now occupied himself with
charitable and agricultural work. People of various religious and politi-
cal convictions were serving their sentences in Arkhangel’sk province. It
is well known that during his stay in Kola, Verigin was acquainted and
became friends with M. L. Leonov (the folk writer Maksim Goremyka),
a passionate admirer of Tolstoy. Visiting Verigin upon his return to
Shenkursk, the Doukhobors ‘saw for themselves that he was reading
the essays of Count Tolstoy’.12 Verigin began to subscribe to and read
pamphlets issued by Posrednik. The success of Tolstoy’s teachings among
the Doukhobors is denoted by the fact that Verigin, the leader of the
sect, had accepted them and proclaimed them in his own name. The
Tolstoyans also managed to convert to their faith two of Verigin’s closest
associates: his brother Vasilii Verigin and his brother-in-law Ivan Konkin,
who was in constant communication with Peter Vasil’evich.
Between the autumn of 1893 and the beginning of 1894, the sup-
porters of Peter Vasil’evich received his advice from exiles who were
travelling from the southern Caucasus to visit Verigin in Arkhangel’sk
province. He suggested that they think about how to live properly and
what was said about this matter in the Doukhobor Psalms: ‘And it is said
in the Psalms, that a Doukhobor cannot enter into military service and
there learn to kill people in war time and, in other times, oppress peo-
ple according to orders’; ‘Doukhobor teachings also do not approve of
the pursuit of profit’. Doukhobor teachings also said nothing about ‘fol-
lowing marriages, births, and deaths with drunkenness and gluttony, as
is done now’. Verigin accused his followers with the charge that all of
them, including women and even children, smoked, which was not use-
ful for their souls and was harmful to their bodies. Finally, Verigin drew
the attention of the Doukhobors to the fact that they ate meat and fish:
to do so, they were depriving living organisms of life, which ‘was the
same as man’s own’.13
Soon Verigin proposed that the Great Party reject exploiting the work
of others, that the wealthy share their surpluses with the poor, that bach-
elors should not enter into marriage, and that the married should cease
marital relations and giving birth to children. This was because, firstly,
humanity had overpopulated the earth, secondly, a large number of chil-
dren in a family prevented parents from thinking about the divine life
and thus from raising their children in this spirit, and, thirdly, a difficult
struggle awaited the Doukhobors, and children could be ‘an obstacle to
divine actions’.14 Perhaps some of this advice was extreme, but it nev-
ertheless fitted traditional Doukhobor religious and ethical norms. The
Doukhobors condemned usury and fraud for the sake of profit, but had
always valued thrift and did not consider the use of waged labour to be
a sin. Help to those closest to you was certainly not considered to mean
the redistribution of property.15 Their teachings preached reasonable
moderation in terms of food and drink, but this abstention did not reach
the level of asceticism.
The Doukhobors always recognised the sinfulness of killing and strove
to avoid service in the army; however, while living in Tavrida province,
those from them who could not to hire themselves out to Muslims
served in the army. In the southern Caucasus, they helped Russian armies
with the provision of transport during the Russian-Turkish War in 1877–
1878. The Doukhobors had never even thought about vegetarianism,
especially since they undertook cattle husbandry both in Tavrida and the
southern Caucasus. In no way was it possible to derive from Doukhobor
teachings a prohibition on marital relations; indeed, in terms of child
raising, it was considered that the more children were in a peasant family
56 S.A. Inikova
the better: the absence of children was considered to be a punishment

from God.
The new teachings being distributed among Verigin’s followers were
immediately defined in official documents and the Orthodox missionary
press as ‘Tolstoyism developing on Doukhobor soil’ as a consequence
of the propaganda spread among the sectarians by the followers of
Tolstoy.16 P. V. Verigin, however, always rejected Tolstoy’s influence on
his teachings.
The Doukhobors discussed and adopted Peter Vasil’evich’s advice in
the course of the winter of 1893–1894. Not all of his supporters found
the strength to abruptly change their lives. Some of them, lead by A.
Vorob’ev, decided not to become vegetarians, distribute property, or
begin to live a communal life. Nor did they enter onto a path of con-
frontation with the state over the question of conscription. It is apparent
that they were sceptics who had never believed in the divinity of the new
leader. Those Verigintsy who did fully accept the advice of P. V. Verigin
tried to realise it fanatically: they were dubbed ‘Fasters’, since their first
act was to reject meat. On several occasions the Fasters divided their
property equally, right down to the last pillow and cup: they also placed
their capital into a common fund.
In the evenings, the Fasters gathered to learn the new Psalms, in
which were included questions and answers on the relationship of the
Doukhobors to the state and conscription17: they did this so as to be
able to answer uniformly to investigations and the courts. Now the
Doukhobors were doing themselves what had previously occupied Prince
Khilkov: they created new Psalms in a Tolstoyan spirit and in a tradi-
tional Doukhobor form. The acceptance of the new teachings took place
throughout the course of 1894.
On 9 December of this year, Tolstoy had a personal conversation and
debate in Moscow with several Doukhobors who were staying in the cap-
ital in order to meet with P. V. Verigin, who at that moment was in a
Moscow jail awaiting resettlement from Arkhangel’sk province to some-
where even further away: Tobol’sk province. The Fasters answered the
questions of Lev Nikolaevich in a thoroughly Tolstoyan way and created
on him a most pleasing impression.
During this meeting, Tolstoy gave the Doukhobors a copy of his Brief
Exposition on the Gospels and to Vasilii Verigin the book The Kingdom
of God is Within You.18 At nine o’clock the following day, a convoy of
prisoners to Siberia was scheduled to leave from the Tula train station.
Tolstoy went to the station with his friends in order to meet Verigin
himself. However, the prison train’s time of departure was changed to
two o’clock: Tolstoy left some books with a coachman for Verigin and
went home. Lev Nikolaevich also gave Verigin a copy of The Kingdom of
God,19 although the latter stated that he had never read the book. This
work created a strong impression on Vasilii Verigin. After he read it, he
wrote the pamphlet Beloved Brother in Lord Jesus Christ, I Would Like to
Talk with You, which repeated almost ad verbatim chunks of text from
The Kingdom of God is Within You.20
After his personal acquaintance with the Doukhobors, the interest
of Tolstoy and his closest circle in the sect became even more intense.
Tolstoyans, corresponding with P. V. Verigin and other Doukhobor
leaders, copied their letters and dispatched them to all their associates,
especially Tolstoy himself. In November 1895, correspondence between
Lev Nikolaevich and the Doukhobor leader began: this continued until
1909.21 The connections between the Tolstoyans and the Doukhobors
became still stronger after the events that unfolded in the southern
Caucasus in the summer of 1895.
On 2 April 1895 during Easter, 11 Doukhobors soldiers refused to
bear arms. They were dispatched to a punishment battalion and were
tortured in order to compel them to participate in military service. On
the day of the Apostles Peter and Paul (29 June or 12 July in the new
style), the Fasters of Akhalkalak district in Tiflis province, in Elizavetpol
province, and Kars district gathered in three places and burnt all the
weapons they had in their homes as a sign of protest against killing, war,
and violence. In Elizavetpol province and Kars district, these actions
were peaceful, but tragic events occurred in Akhalkalak district.
The majority of the Fasters went to the places of prayer that were holy
among the Doukhobors (the so-called grottos) completely unaware that
weapons would be burnt there. The initiative came from P. V. Verigin: he
had conceived of this action as early as the end of 1894. The elders kept
this in the strictest secrecy, but they did not doubt that people who had
already assimilated the principle of non-resistance to violence would be
prepared for this new manifestation of the principle and would support
the action.
The Small Party, who did not know what the Fasters were plotting,
was hoping for the downfall of their rivals in order to take over the
Orphanage: they turned to the authorities for assistance. Cossacks arrived
at the prayer meeting under the supervision of the Tbilisi Governor
58 S.A. Inikova
Shervashidze and brutally beat up the participants at the bonfire. Over

several days, they violated women and plundered property. 4000 Fasters
were dispersed across the four districts of Tiflis province among the local
population: they were in a climate to which they were unaccustomed and
were without any means to support themselves.
The burning of the weapons was the culmination of the Doukhobor
movement. At the end of 1894, the Doukhobors had refused to swear
an oath to the new emperor, Nicholas II.22 Upon refusing to defend the
state, they had severed all relations with it. During a conversation with
the governor of Tiflis, the Doukhobors, in a state of extreme excitement,
declared:
We are Orthodox Christians who were sent by God Himself and feel
within us the very presence of the Kingdom of God: we cannot recog-
nise any pagan authority, steeped in lies, deceit, and dishonesty, over us.
We cannot live like other Russian subjects, we cannot obey the same laws
because we have our own faith and our own law: our faith forbids us from
undertaking any kind of government service.23
The Doukhobors did not make any declaration against the Church,
either then or later. Their negative relations with the Church were well
known by all. However, their new teachings and anti-state actions, which
were clothed in a religious guise, were in and of themselves in opposition
to the Orthodox Church.
After the burning of the weapons, all the strength of the Tolstoyans
was directed to notifying the wider world about the movement among
the Caucasian Doukhobors. Tolstoy and the Moscow Tolstoyans received
the first news about the events unfolding in the Caucasus from Khilkov.
On 14 July 1895, he sent a letter to Tolstoy in which he described the
events of 29 June and the following dramatic days with the testimony
of an observer (he himself had not been present). Khilkov was sin-
cerely outraged by the arbitrariness of the authorities: he suggested that
the newspapers be informed about the events and that Tolstoy himself
should even travel to where they had occurred. Khilkov, as the source
of the new Doukhobor movement, had put in a great deal of effort into
firing them up; however, he now wrote to Tolstoy with conviction that
the movement had developed independently from the inside and that the
Doukhobors had returned to the sources of their faith.24 Khilkov wanted
to still further elevate the new movement in the eyes of Tolstoy and the
Tolstoyans and show its independence and legitimacy. Tolstoy did not go
to the site of the events, but sent Biriukov to the southern Caucasus so
that he could gather information about what had happened.
Biriukov returned from this trip shaken by what he had seen and
heard. Thirty years later, he remembered that Tolstoy ‘was surprised by
what I represented to him about these mass events. Such a phenomenon,
like the confession of Christ before the authorities, appeared to be sin-
gular and accidental: among us, these events occur and then suddenly
a thousand people confess’.25 Hot on the heels of his visit, Biriukov
wrote the appeal The Persecution of Christians in Russia in 1895. Lev
Nikolaevich wrote the foreword to this appeal and dispatched it to
England for publication in the English newspapers. It was published in
The Times on 23 October 1895 and then in many newspapers in different
countries. In Russia, the Tolstoyans printed it via hectograph and widely
distributed it throughout the country.
Thanks to the fact that the Tolstoyans were placing all their energy
into informing their countrymen and international society about the
heroic actions of the Doukhobors and the harsh reprisal visited on them,
the Ministry of Internal Affairs was compelled to conduct an investiga-
tion. The majority of the facts about which the Tolstoyans wrote were
confirmed, including the brutal rapes. However, as one of the investiga-
tors wrote, ‘to transfer the aforementioned cases to investigation and the
further analysis of the judicial authorities would have no basis, given the
fact that it is unknown who is precisely responsible and can be held lia-
ble […]’.26 The Doukhobors could not depend upon justice and legality.
Shervashidze, the governor of Tiflis, was transferred from the Caucasus
to the court of dowager empress. The proceedings then ended.
Egregious suffering was now the lot of the Doukhobors. They died
in the penal battalions, prisons, and on the road to Siberia. A quarter
of those exiled (around 1000 people) perished from illness, which was
caused not only by the climate but also by hunger, a consequence of
their acceptance of the strict vegetarianism advised by Verigin. Many of
the exiles lost their sight as a result of the lack of protein.
From Christmas 1896, on the ‘advice’ of Verigin, the Fasters began
to call themselves the ‘Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood’,
since the word ‘Doukhobors’ was not understandable to outsiders: [the
new name] ‘will be to say more clearly because we look on all people
as brothers in the testament of Lord Jesus Christ’.27 He formulated ten
points (or, more precisely, ten new commandments) and called them The
60 S.A. Inikova
General Views of the Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood: in

these, the new teachings were finally fixed. Although God is mentioned
in these commandments, it is not possible to call them religious dogmas;
rather, they constituted a socio-ethical manifesto. Take, for instance, the
following phrase: ‘members of the community esteem and love God, as
the origin of all that exists’. The term ‘God’ here meant ‘the strength of
love, the strength of life’.
Furthermore, the document declared that ‘the world is constituted
by movement’ and that everything strives for perfection: ‘in every
separate subject there is life and, consequently, God, in particular in a
human being’. Therefore, it was forbidden to destroy life and especially
to deprive people of life. Members of the community were to ‘allow
the fullest freedom to everything that exists’. The establishment of an
organisation by violence was considered unlawful: the communal life
of the ‘Christian Community’ is maintained exclusively by moral force.
The basis of human life was proclaimed to be the energy provided by
thought, reason, and material sustenance: air, water, fruits, and vegeta-
bles.28 There is nothing in the document about the Holy Trinity and no
hint that God dwells in everything, even objects: the energy of human
thought and reason is the basis of life. Verigin was acting as a rationalist,
and this teaching was born exclusively in his own head. It was at odds
with the traditional Doukhobor worldview and was not understood by
the overwhelming majority of the Fasters. Furthermore, the acceptance
of these Ten Commandments did not mean that Verigin himself fulfilled
them. It is enough to say that the ‘Christian Community’ never pro-
claimed freedom to those in it: the ‘advice’ of Verigin was nothing other
than an order whose fulfilment was compulsory.
Although they concentrated their attention on the Doukhobors, the
Tolstoyans did not stop to agitate among the Stundists and the Baptists.
They placed the Doukhobors as an example before the Baptists and
attempted to drive the latter to similar actions. However, while the
Baptists sympathised with the Doukhobors and their martyrdom, they
did not follow their example.
In the town of Purleigh in England, a true headquarters of
Doukhobor propaganda and material aid was created. The activities of
Chertkov, exiled abroad by the government, assumed unusual propor-
tions. He organised a printing press and occupied himself with print-
ing appeals in favour of the Doukhobors. At the end of 1898, Chertkov
began to publish the journal Svobodnoe slovo (Free Speech) and later Listki
svobodnogo slovo, in which he printed letters, documents, and appeals on

Doukhobor themes. The Tolstoyans tried to draw the attention of lib-
eral international society to the events in the Caucasus and provoke the
sympathy of the Quakers and Mennonites, sects which were close to the
Doukhobors.
The activity which the Tolstoyans launched around the Doukhobor
movement rallied the former and filled them with the sense of a higher
purpose in life. In their letters and personal contacts with the sectarians,
the Tolstoyans supported not only the enthusiasm of the Doukhobors
but also the universal significance of their heroic actions, admiring their
fortitude: they sincerely believed that all of Christianity should learn
from them.
When considering their active participation in the fate of the
Doukhobors, A. K. Chertkov, the wife of V. G. Chertkov, evaluated the
significance of the Doukhobor movement for the Tolstoyans in the fol-
lowing terms: ‘In general, I can say without exaggeration that over the
last three years the most joyful and interesting phenomenon in our lives
was the Doukhobor movement. From the time of its persecution (after
the burning of the weapons), it has attracted our sympathy and somehow
united us with them. Our share in the fates of our dear persecuted breth-
ren in spirit has constituted the principal content of our lives […]’.29 The
‘Doukhobors affair’ had a great place in the life of Tolstoy: ‘The main
and most important thing is the Doukhobors’ wrote Lev Nikolaevich
to Chertkov in a letter from 17 March 1898. In a subsequent letter, he
reported that ‘the Doukhobors affair absorbs me entirely’.30
The aims of the Tolstoyans and the Doukhobors were different from
the beginning; however, one side did not want to see this and the other
side did not want to talk about it. The Tolstoyans needed heroic acts and
suffering for the truth, while the Doukhobors needed to rally their sect,
confirm its independence from the state, and obtain the valuable support
and the help of educated people.
The Tolstoyans hoped that through their passive resistance against the
authorities, refusal to sin, the Doukhobors will eventually compel the
government to give in and relieve them of military service, since all vio-
lent methods of enforcement would fail. In case of success, a precedent
would be created, which would lay the foundation for numerous cases of
passive resistance to the government as well as gradual decay of the state.
The suffering of the Doukhobors was an essential part of this plan.
62 S.A. Inikova
Tolstoy believed that life could not be both easy and Christian. He
wrote to A. M. Bodianskii after the latter asked a question about the
resettlement of the Doukhobors from the Caucasus that ‘the degree of
external earthly suffering shows the degree of our following of Christ
[…] through these sufferings, Godly deeds are done’.31 Persecution
destroys the outwardly good life and draws out true faith. Lev
Nikolaevich wrote further: ‘The fact that I am joyful when I hear about
persecution and the Christian firmness of the persecuted does not lessen
in me the desire to use all my strength to help the persecuted’.32 This
thought is frequently repeated in his letters of this period.
This suffering could not continue without end, even in the name of
a higher cause. The position of those Doukhobors scattered among the
population of the Caucasus became simply catastrophic. Having perma-
nently lost the Orphanage, conclusively broken their ties with the local
Caucasus authorities, and engaging in a conflict with the Small Party
which reach the highest levels of malice, the Fasters understood that they
could no longer continue to live in their old homes. From 1896, the
Fasters ever more insistently posed the question about where to reset-
tle: in Manchuria, Turkey, or America. The main thing was to be as far as
possible from the control of the tsarist authorities. The authorities them-
selves were searching for a place within the borders of the empire where
they could drive the unruly Fasters.
In his letter to the empress in 1896, Verigin himself raised a question
of the possibility to evict the Doukhobors from Russia. Chertkov and the
English Quakers appealed to the same. Finally, at the beginning of the
1898 their request was granted.
Tolstoy, having originally rejected the idea of resettling the
Doukhobors abroad, was compelled to support it, since among the
Fasters appeared cases of repentance and requests to the authorities for
mercy; moreover, such cases were increasing. The danger arose that the
heroic act which Tolstoy had preached to the world was turning into a
farce. In 1898, for the sake of assisting the persecuted, Lev Nikolaevich
violated his rule about not taking money for his literary works and sold
the rights to the first edition of the novel Resurrection to the journal
Niva and several foreign publications. Tolstoy’s letters about and to the
Doukhobors were full of sincere compassion.
In the process of resettling the Doukhobors to Canada, there
developed among the Tolstoyans a new idea: in a free country, the
Doukhobors could create in lives their programme of building the
Kingdom of Truth and give an example to the whole world. The

Tolstoyans travelled to help them with this. The results of Tolstoyan
propaganda and the further development of the new teachings accepted
by the Fasters became apparent in Canada: however, this is another story.
If we are to evaluate the changes which occurred in this sect, then
it is necessary to recognise that the Fasters, under the influence of
Tolstoyism, began on the path to Christianisation and evangelisation
that many sectarians and Orthodox believers in Russia chose in this his-
torical period. Before all, this was manifested in the fact that the Fasters
began to read and study the Bible, which they had generally not done
earlier. On the initiative of P. V. Verigin, they attempted to substitute
the confessional label ‘Doukhobors’ with a new one, ‘Christians’: cor-
respondingly, they named their community ‘the Christian Community
of Universal Brotherhood’. Verigin and his followers tried to present
this movement as a return to the original principles of Doukhoborism
and the testament of their ancestors. However, in reality, this was a
completely new teaching which was not even understood by all of
the Fasters. In it, Tolstoyan rationalism was fused with traditional
Doukhobor dogmas about God the Son dwelling in their leader: this cre-
ated the grounds for the subsequent drastic revolutions in the history of
the Doukhobors.
Translated from Russian by James M. White
Notes
1. The name ‘Stundism’ derives from the German word stunde, meaning an
hour. In the German colonies, this was the free time spent reading the
Bible and discussing religious themes. This name was then transferred to
those Russians and Ukrainians who visited analogous gatherings where
they studied and preached the Bible, chiefly the New Testament.
2. The word ‘Pashkovism’ derives from the name of the preacher
V. A. Paskhov. Born into Petersburg high society, he was inspired by the
evangelical preaching of the English Lord Radstock, then travelling in Russia.
3. Толстой (1937, pp. 37).
4. State Museum of the History of Religion. Fund 13, inventory 2, file 272,
sheet 9.
5. Ibid., sheet 10.
6. Ibid., sheet 25 back, 27.
7. Ibid., file 286, sheet 4.
8. State Museum of the History of Religion. Fund 13, inventory 2, file 286,
sheet 8.
64 S.A. Inikova
9. Ibid., sheet 11 back–12 back.

10. Д. А. Хилков. Письмо Л. Н. Толстому от 12 июня 1892 г. State museum
of L.N. Tolstoy. Fund 1 (L.N. Tolstoy), № 117/7.
11. The publishing house Posrednik was created by V. G. Chertkov. One of its
leaders was P.I. Biriukov, while Tolstoy was its inspiration and an active
participant. It published cheap, short, and accessible books for the people
by various authors from antiquity to modernity. These works contained
ideas corresponding to those of Tolstoyism.
12. State archives of Russian Federation. Fund 102, clerical work 3, 1895, file
1053, part 1, sheet 251.
13. Дудченко. Воспоминания (1901), p. 154.
14. Веригин, pp. 57–61.
15. According to Doukhobor teachings from as early as the eighteenth century,
every son of God could freely use the property of his brothers and take
what he required. In the first years after the settlement of the Doukhobors
in all the localities in Tavrida province dictated by the edict of Alexander I,
contemporaries noted that communal property existed among them for a
short time; however, this was a measure compelled by the fact that many of
them had been completely ruined by imprisonment and exile.
16. Скворцов (1896); State archives of Russian Federation. Fund 102, cleri-
cal work ОО, 1898, file 12, part 1; Ibid. clerical work 3, 1895, file 1053,
part 1, sheet 7 back.
“христиан” ». Животная книга духоборцев. (Petersburg, 1909),

17. Psalms:  «  Оборона христианская » и « Христианская оборона от прочих
pp. 279–280.
18. Бирюков (1903), p. 7.
19. Веригин, op. cit. 77. The fact about giving a copy of The Kingdom of God
Животная книга духоборцев. p. 285, psalm 384. This was noted by P.I.
is Within You was related by P.I. Biriukov, op. cit. 7.
20.
книге духоборцев. p. 286.

Biriukov. Op.cit. и В. Д. Бонч-Бруевичем в комментариях к Животной
21. Толстойи, Веригин 1995.

1053, part 1, sheet 185.
23. Ibid., 243 back.
24. Хилков Д. А. ПисьмоЛ. Н. Толстомуот 14 июля 1895 г. State museum of
L.N. Tolstoy. Fund 1 (L.N. Tolstoy), № 117/14.
25. State museum of the history of religion. Fund 7, inventory 1, file 238,
sheet 1.
27. „Письма духоборческого руководителя Петра Васильевича Веригина“.

1053, part 1, sheet 175.
Materialy k istorii iizucheniyu russkogo sektantstva. Part 1. (England,

1901), pp. 92.
А. К. Черткова. Письмо П. В. Веригину от 12 декабря 1898 г. State

28. Ibid., pp. 94.
29.
museum of L. N. Tolstoy. Fund 60, № 46.
30. Толстой (1957a, b), vol. 88, pp. 83–85.
31. Толстой (1954), vol. 68, pp. 194–195.
32. Ibid., pp. 196.
References
Archival Sources
State museum of the history of religion. Fund 13, inventory 2, file 272, file 286;
fund 7, inventory 1, file 238.
State archives of Russian Federation. Fund 102, clerical work 3, 1895, file 1053,
part 1; clerical work OO, 1898, file 12, part 1.
State museum of L. N. Tolstoy.Fund 1 (L. N. Tolstoy). № 117/7; 117/14; fund
60, № 46.
Printed Sources
Биpюкoв П. И. 1903. Дyxoбopeц Пeтp Bacильeвич Bepигин (Geneva).
Bepигин Г. He в cилe Бoг, a в пpaвдe (without place and year).
Дyдчeнкo H. Bocпoминaния. 2001. Materialy kistoriii izucheniyu russkogo sek-
Живoтнaя книгa дyxoбopцeв (Petersburg, 1909).

tantstva. Part 1. (England).
Toлcтoй, Л. H., Bepигин П. B. 1995. Пepeпиcкa (Petersburg).

Toлcтoй, Л. H.. „Днeвники (1854–1857)“. Пoлнoe coбpaниe coчинeний в 90
тoмax. (M., 1937), vol. 47.
Toлcтoй, Л. H. 1954. „Пиcьмo A.M. Бoдянcкoмy oт 2 oктябpя 1895 г“. Пoлнoe
coбpaниe coчинeний в 90 тoмax. Юбилeйнoe издaниe (Moscow).
Toлcтoй, Л. H. 1957a. „Пиcьмo B.Г. Чepткoвy oт 17 мapтa 1898 г.“ Пoлнoe
coбpaниe coчинeний. (Moscow), vol. 88.
Toлcтoй, Л. H. 1957b. „Пиcьмo B.Г. Чepткoвy oт 18 мapтa 1898 г.“ Пoлнoe
coбpaниe coчинeний. (Moscow), vol. 88.
Toлcтoй, Л. H. Пoлнoe coбpaниe coчинeний в 90 тoмax. Юбилeйнoe издaниe:
„Пиcьмa дyxoбopчecкoгo pyкoвoдитeля Пeтpa Bacильeвичa Bepигинa“. 1901.

(M. 1937) vol. 47; (1954), vol. 68, 69; (1957), vol. 88.
Materialy k istorii i izucheniyu russkogo sektantstva. Part 1. England.

Cквopцoв B. „Дyxoбopы-тoлcтoвиcтыи cyдeбный пpoцecco coпpoтивлeнии
влacтям“. Mиccиoнepcкoe oбoзpeниe.Book 1. n. 10, (1896).
CHAPTER 5
The ‘Renovationists’ and the Soviet State
Mikhail Vitalievich Shkarovskiy
The renovation movement in the Russian Orthodox Church had a cen-

turies-long history. It would be enough to recall the names of Vladimir
Soloviov, Fedor Dostoevsky, Lev Tolstoi, and many other writers, pub-
lic figures, and religious actors. By the beginning of the revolutionary
upheavals of 1917, the Russian Orthodox Church was in a state of pro-
found internal crisis. Externally, it was quite an impressive force. There
were some 115–125 million Orthodox believers in the empire (about
70% of the whole population), 78,000 Churches and chapels, some
120,000 priests, deacons, and cantors, 130 bishops, 1253 monasteries
and sketes with 95,000 monks and novices, 57 ecclesiastical seminaries,
and four ecclesiastical academies. However, the authority and influence
of this externally mighty institution had been largely undermined.
The crisis inside the Russian Church had been increasing gradually
over the two previous centuries. The abolition of the patriarchate in the
early eighteenth century and the subsequent introduction of the Synodal
system, which subjugated the Church to a bureaucratic apparatus, had
deprived it of an independent voice in society. A parish priest was not
so different from a police official, performing oaths of allegiance to
the authorities and informing them about the political attitudes of his
M.V. Shkarovskiy (*) 
Central State Archive of St. Petersburg, Saint Petersburg, Russia

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_5
68 M.V. Shkarovskiy
parishioners. This contributed to the bureaucratisation of the clergy and

reduced their prestige. The falsity of the Church’s position also mani-
fested itself in the fact that it was formally a state institution; thus, its
opponents could hold it partly responsible for the oppressive policies of
the autocracy and for all the social injustice committed by state bodies.
As a result, from the late nineteenth century onwards, disillusionment
with the values of Orthodoxy and the ecclesiastical organisation was
becoming more and more visible, first of all among the intelligentsia.
Anticlerical attitudes began to penetrate into the broader masses. Cases
of pogroms against clergymen were registered during the revolution of
1905–1907.
The crisis of the Church in the early twentieth century was connected
with its close dependence on the state and the peculiar theory of the
‘symphony of powers’; as a consequence, Orthodoxy was considered
to be a stronghold of state power rather than an institutional religion.
This fact contradicted the doctrinal basis of the Church, which aspired to
free development in accordance with the Orthodox canons. In the early
twentieth century, with the rapid development of capitalist relations and
the creation of new forms of public life in Russia, the Orthodox Church
was unable to offer its own fully developed social doctrine. While sharing
the political culture of the autocracy, the Church began to become more
and more anachronistic. This not only made it socially unpopular, but
also resulted in decreasing numbers of Orthodox believers.
Attention to the rites and an instinctual religiosity were the cen-
tral points of the policy of Konstantin Pobedonostsev. In consequence,
Orthodoxy in Russia had to perform nationalist and political functions
rather than specifically religious ones to a considerable extent: this laid
the ground for a crisis of faith. A conflict between the regular episco-
pate and the secular clergy was a source of continuous antagonism within
the Church itself. The fact that the priest could still choose how to work
with his parishioners in this period created the conditions for the realisa-
tion of his own religious creativity and unwillingness to act as a mere
interpreter of the ideological directives of the ecclesiastical leadership.
Between 1905 and 1907, there were two main trends of renewal
within the Church: liberal-renewalist and Christian-democratic. The
former was represented by the Brotherhood of Partisans of Ecclesiastic
Renewal and the Commission on Ecclesiastic and Confessional Issues
of the Union of 17 October, while the latter was embodied by the
Christian Brotherhood of Struggle and advocates of Christian socialism
5 THE ‘RENOVATIONISTS’ AND THE SOVIET STATE 69
like Archimandrite Mikhail (Semionov), Georgii Petrov, and Valentin

Sventsitskii.
Along with the absence of organisational unity, which was one of the
causes of the crisis in the renovation movement in 1906 and 1907 on the
eve of such an important event in ecclesiastical life as the Local Church
Council, the renewal movement lacked a distinct and developed pro-
gramme of religious reform. Eager to have some alternative to the pro-
posals developed by the Pre-Conciliar Assembly during proceedings on
which the renovation movement had failed to exercise any influence, the
Brotherhood of Partisans of Ecclesiastic Renewal made an attempt to cre-
ate such a programme on behalf of the whole movement. In June 1907,
the three renovation organisations in the capital published programmes
in Vek magazine. However, after their publication, the main renovationist
press organ was closed, the editor of the magazine was subjected to legal
prosecution, and the Brotherhood itself ceased to exist in July.
The ecclesiastical renovation movement of the early twentieth century
was a complex phenomenon. The idea of consolidating the social posi-
tion of the Church in changing conditions and a desire to overcome the
differences between religion and science brought the renovation move-
ment closer to the quasi-ecclesiastic intelligentsia. At the same time, the
reluctance of the ‘renovationists’ (obnovlentsy) to accept the dogmatic
modernisation of Orthodoxy made their union impossible. The same was
true of the ties between the advocates of ecclesiastic renovation and the
representatives of the liberal Orthodox hierarchy. A number of measures
aimed at transforming the extant system of Church administration were
undertaken by the latter and influenced the organisational framework
of the renovation movement; however, with the exception of the doc-
trine of sobornost’, these measures did not become basic principles in the
renewalists’ ideological exploration.
The manifestos of the Christian Brotherhood of Struggle and the
Russian Christian Socialists and works by Georgii Petrov did not dif-
fer much from the demands put forward by liberal-renewalist organisa-
tions. The main differences lay in political issues rather than in the field
of social service; still less were they concerned about the dogmatic foun-
dations of Orthodoxy. It would be a mistake to classify the Brotherhood
of Partisans of Ecclesiastic Renewal as renovationists or the Christian
Brotherhood of Struggle as supporters of a reformation simply on the
basis of their political programmes; however, their views on Church
reform and socio-economic views do not contradict each other. A special
70 M.V. Shkarovskiy
feature of Christian socialism was that it functioned within a framework

of revolutionary development to a more considerable extent than the
liberal renewal movement. The movement had a narrow social purpose.
This displayed itself not only in anticlerical phenomena, but also in its
attitude towards the various estates of secular society. By virtue of the
fact that the development of the movement was caused by revolution-
ary events, it was often dominated by sociopolitical interests rather than
by religious ones. In opposing the Church to the bureaucratic state, the
renovationists were largely inspired by the ideals of early Christianity.
The fact that politics nevertheless dominated their agenda can be con-
sidered a misfortune of the movement in the period between 1905 and
1907.
The Russian Church failed to gain the desired independence or con-
voke the Local Council before 1917 due to counteraction by the gov-
ernment. Moreover, the domination of G. Rasputin’s creatures over
the Synod during World War I contributed to the considerable increase
of anticlerical attitudes in the country. The internal crisis within the
Church, its dependence on the state, and the deterioration of its prestige
all prevented it from becoming a moral restraint on extreme methods of
political struggle.
The February revolution was accompanied by a number of anti-
church actions, including the arrests of bishops by the orders of local
soviets. At the same time, this revolution was a ‘religious’ one, which
made it unique in the history of Orthodoxy. In March and April 1917,
a number of extraordinary diocesan congresses of clergy and laymen
took place. According to their decisions, more than ten especially com-
promised bishops were removed and episcopal authority was limited by
elected diocesan councils. Election to all ecclesiastical offices and rep-
resentative collegial foundations of Church administration were intro-
duced; furthermore, parish life was democratised. All of these changes
were essentially following the direction outlined by the projects of eccle-
siastical reforms in the period between 1905 and 1907.
The crisis of the autocracy aroused among the episcopate hopes for
the transformation of relations between the Church and the state.
Therefore, even the members of the Synod refused to appeal to the peo-
ple to support the monarchy on 26 February. Moreover, on 6 March,
the Synod published a message which called the ‘faithful children of
the Orthodox Church’ to support the Provisional Government. Nikolai
L’vov, an active opponent of the rasputinshchina in the State Duma
and an old advocate of reforms inside the Church, was appointed as a

new ‘revolutionary’ ober procurator of the Synod. By July, the renewed
Synod confirmed the right of diocesan congresses to elect their bish-
ops, provided the parish with the status of an autonomous democratic
unit with wide participation of laymen, and established the Provisional
Conference in preparation for the Local Council. In some dioceses, free
elections of bishops were held for the first time in history, including elec-
tions for the metropolitanates of Moscow and Petrograd.
The most outstanding among the new leaders of the Synod were
Aleksandr Boiarskii and Aleksandr Vvedenskii, the latter of whom was
a brilliant preacher priest, bold innovator, and convinced advocate of
orienting the Church towards the working class. One can also men-
tion Archpriest Ioann Egorov, who would die of typhus in 1920; how-
ever, before his death, he had time to found the special Church group
‘Religion Combined with Life’, which would last until 1927.
The All-Russian Union enjoyed support from the Provisional
Government and issued a newspaper, Golos Khrista (Voice of Christ), with
subsidies from the Synod; by the autumn, it had organised a publishing
house, Sobornyi razum (Collective Mind), which issued a magazine with
the same name. Along with demands for broad internal reforms in the
Church, it had the slogan ‘Christianity on the side of labour rather than
violence and exploitation’, which aligned it with socialist ideas.1 With
the creation of the Christian-Socialist Labour Party (led by N. V. L’vov,
N. D. Kuznetsov, and S. V. Kalinovskii) in June 1917, the ideas of justice
and social revolution manifested themselves within the movement.
The policy of the Provisional Government towards the Russian
Church was aimed at fulfilling three main tasks: ensuring the loyalty
of the Department of the Orthodox Confession to the revolutionary
authorities and abolishing symbols of its former service to the autocracy;
inducing internal reform of the Church with the usurped right to con-
firm ecclesiastical decisions; and bringing about the gradual and painless
separation of state and ecclesiastical structures. Generally speaking, this
policy did not meet with understanding among clergy and laymen. By
the autumn of 1917, the Russian Church still held to the line of passive
loyalty towards the Provisional Government; however, disappointed with
the ability of the government to protect its interests, it pinned its hopes
more and more on changes in the political situation.2
Two tendencies collided with the proceedings of the Local Council,
namely an aspiration to carry out broad liberal reforms and a more
72 M.V. Shkarovskiy
conservative perspective. During the course of political developments,

conservative attitudes began to dominate. The haste in which the main
decisions were made resulted in the opinion of the minority being
ignored and a failure to notice the potential consequences of the resolu-
tions. Solutions to many of the questions which had been the subjects
of concern among the progressive clergy in the early twentieth century
were not found; indeed, some of the problems were even aggravated,
which created new reasons for conflicts inside the Church. On the other
hand, the programme of the renewal group was of a feeble and indefinite
character. It lacked a strong core which could influence the majority and
urge it to make more adequate decisions.
On 23 January 1918, the decree of the Soviet of People’s Commissars
‘On Separation of the Church from the State and the School from the
Church’ appeared. It laid the foundations for a future where the Church
would lack legal rights. While it did contain some democratic positions,
including the right to freely profess any religion, the decree none the
less forbade religious communities from possessing property, deprived
them of the rights of a legal person, and proclaimed the nationalisation
of Church property (these limitations derived principally from political
and ideological motivation and they aggravated to the utmost degree the
practical ramifications of the decree for the Church). The Local Council
of 1917–1918 did not acknowledge the decree.
The Council banned from service those bishops who had sought the
support of the civil authorities in the struggle against ecclesiastical power.
The same was the case for those priests who addressed the civil authori-
ties with complaints against a bishop and those clerics and laymen who
were employed in anti-religious organisations. Thus, some of the Local
Council’s decisions bore the seed of future schisms. As a result, accord-
ing to Aleksandr Vvedenskii’s memoirs, the leaders of the Union of
Democratic Clergy had devised a plan to break with the official Church
by 1918. However, this was not brought into being, since it had too few
advocates.3 One can surmise that Vvedensky later invented the existence
of these plans.
As partisans of drawing the clergy into politics on the side of the new
state, the Petrograd renovationists tried for some time in vain to create a
Christian socialist party. Similar attempts were also made in Moscow in
1919 by the priest Sergii Kalinovskii. At the same time, the members of
the Petrograd ‘democratic clergy’ established ties with the Old Believers
and the sects and tried to partially alter the policies and structure of the
ecclesiastical leadership. There existed in Moscow in 1919, with the per-

mission of the SPC, a conglomerate of various sectarian groups called the
United Council of Religious Communities and Groups. Some priests had
the idea of including representatives of the Orthodox Church in this coun-
cil and forming a leading organ for all religious organisations that would be
loyal to the Soviet authorities. It was to be called the Executive Committee
of the Clergy, but the patriarch did not consent to its creation.4
The 12 July 1919 note entitled ‘On the direction of the policy of the
Soviet authorities towards the Orthodox Russian Church’, which was
written by the priest Vladimir Krasnitskii, started with the argument that
‘the programme of the RCP in the field of religious matters has a declar-
ative character and does not contain any indication of the practical steps
towards the ecclesiastic public organisations, extant in Russia’: this is why
the priest offered his own programme of activities.
The active interference of the Soviet state in the internal affairs of the
Church could not be doubted. It took place under the slogan of car-
rying out revolutionary principles in the life of the Church by first of
all democratising its structure. So, on 26 May 1922, the Politbureau
accepted a proposal by Lev Trotsky to take a wait-and-see stance towards
the three views about ecclesiastical leadership. These consisted of: (1)
the preservation of the patriarchate and the election of a loyal patriarch,
(2) the abolition of the patriarchate and the creation of a collegium (a
loyal Synod), and (3) the complete decentralisation of the Church (the
Church as an ‘ideal’ aggregate of communities of believers). It was pre-
sumed that the struggle between the various views would intensify a pro-
cess to which the postponement of the convocation of the Local Council
would contribute. Trotsky believed that the most advantageous combi-
nation would be ‘where a part of the Church keeps a loyal Patriarch, who
is not acknowledged by the other part, which organises itself under the
banner of the Synod or the full autonomy of communities’.5
The ‘revolutionisation’ of the Russian Orthodox Church had both
internal and external dynamics. Inside the Church, it passed through
marked periods of upswing between 1905 and 1907 and in 1917 and
1922 and consequent periods of decline. The external influence of the
‘revolutionary clergy’ was especially visible in 1917 and 1922. In the late
1920s, the attitude of the state towards this process became neutral and
then negative in the early 1940s.
The works of those prominent leaders of the Communist Party6
who played a large part in carrying out counter-religious policy drew
74 M.V. Shkarovskiy
attention to the fact that the ‘reformation in the Orthodox Church

began as a purely political upheaval; as a change of political landmarks’,
which had led to the disintegration and discrediting of the Church.
Being convinced that no Church could be vital, no clergy could be pro-
gressive, and no religion could be modern, the atheists considered the
renewal movement to be only a ‘temporary fellow-traveller of Soviet
power’, and that the religious reforms they offered were ‘obviously
unnecessary, obviously heavy, dangerous dead weight’ which the clergy
jettisoned in order to ‘save their drowning ship’.7
The real renewal of Russian Orthodoxy was interrupted at the very
beginning of the process. Perhaps, if the Local Council of 1917–1918
had been prolonged, as was conceived in 1919, the ecclesiastical organi-
sation would have advanced further along the path to reform, acquiring
more and more of the features of a living and dynamic organism. The
October Revolution, having interrupted the process of Church revival
and later eliminating democratic transformations in the Church and dis-
crediting the very idea of reform, actually proved to be a kind of reli-
gious ‘counterrevolution’. Equally, the main ideologist of changes, the
liberal ecclesiastic intelligentsia, failed to accept the October Revolution
and took increasingly conservative attitudes; thus, the conservative trend
eventually dominated.
The elimination of the renewal movement during World War II was
accompanied by pressure from state agencies. The Soviet leadership,
mostly for pragmatic reasons, made its eventual choice in favour of the
Moscow patriarchate in the autumn of 1943. This choice was dictated by
the political situation in the USSR and abroad. The Patriarchal Church
itself was interested in the elimination of schisms. The state, having
altered the course of its religious policy in 1943, could not fail to take
this into consideration and discontinued its support for an ecclesiastic
renewal movement which did not interest them any longer.
Conclusion
The problem of relations between the revolutionary state and the ‘revo-
lutionary clergy’ is associated with the task of studying so-called renova-
tionism (obnovlentshestvo), a reform movement in the Russian Orthodox
Church in the first half of the twentieth century. The movement had
three main stages of development: 1905–1907, 1917–1918, and 1922–
1923, each of which had its own distinctive characteristics. However,
there were things in common: a strong political component, the direct

impact on internal Church processes of the revolutionary and post-rev-
olutionary situation, the interference in Church life by state authori-
ties, and the determination of participants in the movement to help the
Church in the new sociopolitical and economic conditions by becoming
a link between it and modernising society. The potential for reform in
the Russian Orthodox Church was not as considerable as it had seemed
in the early twentieth century. Having encountered numerous political,
economic, and ideological problems, the renewed Church proved una-
ble to stay in the historical arena. It gradually lost its ground and dis-
appeared finally in 1946. Some of its ideas began to be revived only in
the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries under new historical
conditions.
Notes
1. Шишкин (1970), 121.
2. Соколов (2002).
3. Введенский (1923), pp. 109–110, 215.
4. Платонов (1960), 229.
5. Presidential Archive of the Russian Federation. Fond. 3. Opis’ 60. Delo
63. List. 71–72.
6. Бонч-Бруевич (1927), Красиков (1923), Луначарский (1926), Скворцов-
Степанов (1922).
7. Ярославский (1958), 37.
References
Archival Sources
Presidential Archive of the Russian Federation. Fond. 3. Opis’ 60. Delo 63. List.
71–72.
Printed Sources
Бoнч-Бpyeвич, B.Д. 1927. Живaя цepкoвь» и пpoлeтapиaт. Mocквa.
Bвeдeнcкий, A.И. 1923. Цepкoвь и гocyдapcтвo (Oчepк взaимooтнoшeний цepкви
и гocyдapcтвa в Poccии 1918–1922 гг.). Mocквa.
Кpacикoв, П.A. 1923. Ha цepкoвнoм фpoнтe (1918–1923). Mocквa.
76 M.V. Shkarovskiy
Лyнaчapcкий, A.B. 1926. Xpиcтиaнcтвo или кoммyнизм. Диcпyт A. B.

Лyнaчapcкoгo c митpoпoлитoм A. Bвeдeнcким. Mocквa.
Плaтoнoв H.Ф. 1960. „Пpaвocлaвнaя Цepкoвь в 1917–1935 гг.“, Eжeгoдник
Myзeя иcтopии peлигии и aтeизмa, T. IV (Mocквa-Лeнингpaд), pp. 205–235.
Coкoлoв, A.B. 2002. Bpeмeннoe пpaвитeльcтвo и Pyccкaя пpaвocлaвнaя
цepкoвь (1917 гoд). Диccepтaция нa coиcкaниe yчeнoй cтeпeни кaндидaтa
иcтopичecкиx нayк. Caнкт-Пeтepбypг.
Cквopцoв-Cтeпaнoв, И.И. 1922. O живoй цepкви. Mocквa.
Шишкин, A.A. 1970. Cyщнocть и кpитичecкaя oцeнкa «oбнoвлeнчecкoгo» pacкoлa
Pyccкoй пpaвocлaвнoй цepкви. Кaзaнь.
Яpocлaвcкий, E. 1958. O peлигии. Mocквa.
CHAPTER 6
Maliovantsy: Orthodox Christianity and the

Ukrainian ‘Evangelical’ Peasants of Late
Imperial Russia
Sergei I. Zhuk
In the late Russian Empire, a new ‘radical’ phase in the all-imperial evan-
gelical movement began as evangelical Ukrainian peasants reacted to
the institutionalisation of the Baptist Church at the end of the 1880s.
These peasants were known as the Ukrainian Stundists and later became
the predecessors of different evangelical Christian churches in south-
ern Russia, such as the Baptists (Stundo-Baptists), Adventists, and
Pentecostals. From the outset, this sect was related to the religious awak-
ening in the German and Mennonite colonies in the southern prov-
inces of the Russian Empire. The evangelical movement among the
German colonists converged with a religious revival among Orthodox
peasants and produced a movement that contemporaries referred to as
‘Stundism’. Contemporary authors and historians noted this as a remark-
able moment in the development of the popular evangelical movement.1
The German-speaking settlers brought Stundism to Russia as a part of
S.I. Zhuk (*) 
Professor of East European and Russian History,
Ball State University, Muncie, IN, USA

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_6
78 S.I. Zhuk
the Pietist movement. The name derived from the German Stunde
(hours). At the beginning of the eighteenth century, followers of Philip
Jacob Spener organised meetings in their houses for the reading and
discussion of the Bible during special hours (Stunde) after church cer-
emonies. These Pietists from Württemberg, called the Stundist Brothers,
brought their new religious experience to the German colonies in the
Russian province of Kherson in 1817, where the German colony of
Rohrbach became a centre of Pietist activity. The Pietist minister Johann
Bonnekemper was the pastor of the Lutheran community in Rohrbach
and a leader of the new Pietist Stundist movement among local
Germans. From 1824, his meetings, known as ‘the Stundist meetings’,
laid the foundations for a broad Pietist movement among the German-
speaking settlers of the province.2 This movement converged with reli-
gious revivals among the members of the Nazareth sect in the German
colonies in Bessarabia during the 1840s and among Mennonites in the
provinces of Ekaterinoslav and Tavrida in the 1850s. Along with Western
Baptist influences, which were brought by German missionaries to south-
ern Russia during the late 1860s, these evangelical awakenings laid the
bases for a movement among Ukrainian peasants, who were called ‘the
Ukrainian Stundists’ (khokhly-shtundy) by Russian contemporaries.3
By the beginning of the 1890s, thousands of peasants from the
Ukrainian provinces (the overwhelming majority of whom were ethni-
cally Ukrainian) joined this evangelical movement. Beginning with only
20 members in 1862, the Stundist sect among the Ukrainian peasants
gained thousands of adherents and spread over southern and central
Ukraine in the 1870s. During the 1880s, Stundism reached the prov-
inces of Tavrida, Ekaterinoslav, Poltava, Kharkov, Chernigov, Volynia,
and Podolia (there were 2956 dissenters in the province of Kherson in
1886, 2006 in the province of Kiev in 1884, and 300 in the province
of Ekaterinoslav). Overall, the members of the Ukrainian Stundist meet-
ings, who were registered by the local police, numbered more than 7000
people in 1885.4
The first meeting between the German Baptists and the leaders
of the Ukrainian Stundists took place in 1882 in the German colony
of Rikenau. In 1883, Colonel V. Pashkov, Baron M. Korff, and other
Russian aristocrats who shared the evangelical beliefs of the Ukrainian
Stundists tried to organise a new meeting of all evangelical activists in
St. Petersburg: this was to include German and Ukrainian Stundists.
Eventually, on 30 April and 1 May 1884, at a meeting in the village of
6 MALIOVANTSY: ORTHODOX CHRISTIANITY … 79
Novo-Vasilievka (Tavrida province), these efforts to unite the evangelical

groups of the Russian Empire contributed to the foundation of the All-
Russian Baptist Union. Unification and stress on forms and strict rituals
became major features of GermanStundo-Baptism. 5
When German Baptism influenced Ukrainian Stundism in 1869, the
latter divided into two groups: (1) Stundo-Baptism, which was more
conservative in terms of its theology and religious practices, and tried
to reproduce the institutions of the German Baptist congregations in
the Ukrainian countryside; and (2) a more radical ‘New’ or ‘Young’
Stundism, which resisted the institutionalisation and formalisation of
the movement, emphasised the unmediated spiritual communication
of believers with God, and had millennial expectations for social justice
and equality. The religious radicals made up a majority in Ukraine from
the outset. According to the first reports from Kiev province in 1874,
members of the radical branch of Ukrainian Stundism made up the over-
whelming majority (85%) of Stundists detected there.6
The radical Stundists were especially disappointed with the new
church hierarchy and the Baptist rituals. Those influenced by the
Shalaput (radical Khlyst) spiritualist trend resisted Baptist institutionalisa-
tion as well.7 The new prophets rejected Baptist preachers and promised
the imminent arrival of Christ’s Kingdom. The most famous prophet
of the spiritualist millennial movement among the radical Stundists
was Kondrat Maliovannyi, whose adherents were called Maliovantsy by
their contemporaries. The Maliovantsy and similar groups of ‘spiritual
Christians’ represented a convergence between Shalaput and Stundist
religious practices and theology.
Religious enthusiasm, spirit possession, a belief in a possibility of
God’s incarnation in any ‘true believer’, and notions of Christ’s personi-
fication in the leaders of the religious community were distinctive fea-
tures of the Shalaput tradition. This tradition did not disappear during
the Stundist stage. Shalaput elements converged with Western Protestant
influences during the 1860s. The result was the appearance of the so-
called spiritual Christian tendency inside Ukrainian Stundism. By the end
of the 1880s, the ‘spiritual Christians’ (or Stundo-Shalaputs) became
the most active part of the opposition movement among the evangelical
Ukrainian peasants against the institutional structures of both Stundo-
Baptism and Russian Orthodoxy. Chiliasm and a millennial orienta-
tion gradually became the main characteristics of the Russian ‘radical
Christian reformation’.8 All groups of ‘spiritual Christians’ demonstrated
80 S.I. Zhuk
this orientation. At the same time, the mass police persecution of peas-
ant evangelicals and the dissidents’ frustration with the new hierarchy
of the Baptist congregations contributed to the spread of chiliastic ideas
in Stundist communities. The desperate dissidents, tired of the struggle
with authorities, turned to millennial dreams and ecstatic rituals in the
hope of reaching the Heavenly Kingdom.
In August 1888, a police officer from Anan’iev district in Kherson
province reported that the Stundist peasants Feodosii Gumeniuk and
Dimitrii Sosin from the village of Malaia Kodymka were spreading
notions reminiscent of those of the radical Shalaputs. In March 1887,
Gumeniuk told his neighbours during their Stundist meeting that every
Christian could ‘become Christ the Saviour’ if the Holy Spirit selected
and descended upon him. The Stundist community from Malaia
Kodymka organised enthusiastic meetings ‘with dances and jumping’.
After 1887, they rejected the authority of the Baptist ministers. These
Stundo-Shalaputs had their own ‘prophetesses’, who preached about
the end of time.9 It is noteworthy that, in both cases, Stundo-Shalaputs
stressed the authority of the individual in contrast to the Orthodox and
Baptist hierarchies. Like the first Shalaputs, the new religious enthusiasts
elevated women as the leaders of their communities.
In April 1891, a parish priest from the village of Timoshevka
(Melitopol’ district in Tavrida province) discovered a connection
between 25 peasants, who had recently converted to Stundo-Baptism,
and the local Shalaputs. As it turned out, the secret Shalaput movement
still existed in Timoshevka, and the new Stundist activists came from
the Shalaput neighbourhood in the village. Moreover, some of them
belonged to famous Shalaput families.10
Such a convergence of Shalaput and Stundist religious practices took
place all over the southern provinces at the beginning of the 1890s. In
August 1895, the Holy Synod received information about a strange
Stundist sect in the village of Kebabcha (Akkerman district in the prov-
ince of Bessarabia). In the beginning of the 1890s, Vasilii and Feoktist
Dreval’, two brothers from Kebabcha, organised a Stundist meeting in
their house. They told local peasants that the Holy Spirit had ‘ordained’
them to represent God in their community. Vasilii Dreval’ explained that
God ordered all the angels in heaven to worship him as a divine prophet,
‘as a new saint’. According to Vasilii, ‘a true religious meeting’ was sup-
posed to involve ecstatic praying, singing, and dancing, after which ‘all
the believers, who were tired from the religious exertions, fell on the
ground and angels guided their souls to heaven, where they saw hell
and paradise’. The Dreval’ brothers and their preacher Dimitrii Mukhin
(Rybkin) taught local peasants that ‘everybody who did good deeds and
did not sin became God Jesus Christ’. It is noteworthy that members
of the Kebabcha Stundist meeting did not separate from the Orthodox
Church and read only Orthodox religious books. The police did not dis-
cover any Baptist influence among these Stundists. The Orthodox mis-
sionary Ioann Strel’bitskii, who was invited as an expert, presented the
Dreval’ brothers and Mukhin as ‘sectarian-Stundists with traces of Khlyst
influence’.11 During the 1890s, Orthodox experts described various
groups of ‘spiritual Christians’ as ‘Stundo-Khlyst’ sects.
Kondrat Maliovannyi and His Movement

Such ‘Shtundo-Khlyst’ or ‘Stundo-Shalaput’ sects became the most typi-
cal expression of the Russian Radical Reformation during the 1890s.
The most well-known and best-documented such group was the
Maliovantsy from Kiev province. The Stundist Iakov Koval’s preaching
in the Tarashcha district from the late 1870s prepared the ground for a
more radical and spiritual interpretation of the Holy Scriptures among
local evangelical communities. Among those who were attracted by the
evangelical preaching of the radical Stundists was Kondrat (or Kondratii)
Maliovannyi, a peasant wheelwright from the town of Tarashcha who
had joined the local Stundist community in 1884.
During the 1890s, Kondrat Maliovannyi became the centre of a new
dissident movement among Ukrainian peasants in Kiev province. This
movement, called the Maliovantsy, reflected the peasants’ disappoint-
ment with the formalism and ‘institutionalisation’ of Stundo-Baptism in
the 1880s. The Maliovantsy also returned to the practices and ideas of
the early Russian Radical Reformation. In its theology, rituals, and conse-
quent effects, this movement was reminiscent of British Quakerism dur-
ing the middle of the seventeenth century.12
From his very first moment, Kondrat was doomed to suffering and
humiliation.13 He was born in 1845 in Tarashcha. His mother was
Efrosinia Maliovannaya, a poor peasant widow. She had a love affair after
her husband’s death, and Kondrat was born a bastard. All the neighbours
despised him, and the children beat him. He lived in isolation, since, as
a bastard, he was not allowed to play with other children. His mother
often went to Kherson province in search of work and left him with her
82 S.I. Zhuk
sister in Tarashcha. When he grew up, he tried to help his mother and
aunt support their poor household. Each summer he went to the forest
to pick mushrooms for their family. He was so successful in his search
for mushrooms that his neighbours called him a magician. It is notewor-
thy that both his sympathisers and opponents remarked on his unusual
mental abilities and kindness. He loved nature and always helped people
(including those who humiliated and hurt him).
When he was 13, he began his apprenticeship at the local wheelwright
shop. However, his mother soon took him away and brought him to
the city of Odessa. She hoped for a better life in the city with its many
jobs. Kondrat became an apprentice to an Armenian barber. Instead
of instructing him in the new profession, however, his new master
exploited, beat, and humiliated him. He could not stand the daily beat-
ings and asked his mother to take him from the Armenian household. As
a result, she brought him home, and he resumed his previous apprentice-
ship at the wheelwright shop. He was so successful in his new trade that,
by the age of 22, he became a well-established craftsman with his own
shop and a good reputation in Tarashcha.
It was at this time that he started his search for divine truth. Kondrat
wished to find the reasons for social injustice and to explain ‘the order
of the world’. In the early 1870s, Kondrat learned of new and popular
prophets in Kherson province.14 Together with his friend, he sought
out these prophets, who were preachers of ‘spiritual Christianity’. They
advised him to repent and read the Bible. Conversation with them con-
vinced him that he had to continue his search for divine truth. After his
return from Kherson province to Tarashcha, he experienced the influence
of the Holy Spirit for the first time. He was walking in the forest when
he felt as if lightning had descended into his heart. From then on he
knew that he was the Saviour and the Light. He would be resurrected
and crucified for all the sins of humankind. According to his own story,
he realised that he had been elected by God to save ‘the truth which was
humiliated and oppressed’ and, at the same time, to release the human
soul from the bondage of sin. In his memoirs, Maliovannyi used various
images from Ukrainian folklore, mixed with biblical symbols, to show
how important the new revelations were for him. Under the influence of
the Spirit, he realised that God created people as free and equal human
beings. Now, Kondrat saw his mission as one of saving humankind and
restoring divine truth on earth. However, he still hesitated about his
future life. He tried to find the answer in the Orthodox Church, but the
local priests did not want to help him. Instead, they treated his curiosity
as a sign of Stundism and suspected him as a secret Stundist. Frustrated
by their indifference and suspicion, he began to drink to forget his
revelations.15
Eventually, in 1884, he began to listen to other people’s readings
of the Bible and the Gospels. Although he told everybody that he was
illiterate, contemporaries who met him were struck by his memory and
his perfect knowledge of the Bible. As the officer who interrogated
Maliovannyi noted, he ‘tried to answer all the questions in good liter-
ary Russian: what struck me most, considering his illiteracy, was that he
made long and accurate quotations from the Gospels and Psalms with
the exact chapter and line from the biblical text’.16 Maliovannyi stopped
drinking and joined the local Stundo-Baptist congregation in 1884. As
he described it in his memoirs, he ‘took the Old Testament man from
his soul and put the New Testament man in it’. He knew from then on
that vice ruled the world and generated wars, violence, social injustice,
sin, and the exploitation of human beings. At the same time, sinful peo-
ple polluted and ‘killed’ nature: they destroyed forests and rivers; wasted
land and resources; and killed birds, animals, and fish. He compared the
blissful sinless life of the birds and plants in the forest with the vicious
and corrupt existence of human civilisation and felt pity and compas-
sion for poor suffering people. He realised that only the spiritual rebirth
of all humanity based on the comprehension of divine wisdom could
save the world. Only a revival of spiritual life under the guidance of the
Holy Ghost could help ‘this rebirth to the new pure life by moral self-
improvement, love, good deeds, and a search for the Divine Truth’.17
Thus, Maliovannyi began to criticise the rigid formalities and strict
discipline of the Stundo-Baptists. He became an adherent of Venedikt
Dushenkovskii, the charismatic leader of the ‘spiritual’ Stundists from
the neighbouring village of Skibino, who practised the Shalaput tradi-
tions of ecstatic praying and spirit possession. His followers considered
Dushenkovskii ‘the living Christ’ and formed a group of 12 disciples
who followed him everywhere, just like the apostles from the Gospels.
Dushenkovskii’s wife and disciples stayed in Maliovannyi’s house. After
his long conversations with Dushenkovskii and his followers, he real-
ised that institutionalised Stundo-Baptism lacked the spiritual essence
of primitive Christianity. In 1888, Maliovannyi, together with other
co-religionists who were disappointed in their Stundist congrega-
tion, began reading the pamphlets of Colonel Pashkov.18 Along with
84 S.I. Zhuk
Dushenkovkii’s influence, Pashkov’s books changed Kondrat’s under-

standing of Stundism. He believed that, ‘because of their arrogance’, the
Stundo-Baptists had lost ‘true Christian love’. As he explained during his
interrogation, ‘they (the Stundists) seemed to speak and live according
to the Gospel, but in fact, they were not meek and compassionate. As
it turned out they had more arrogance in their hearts than Orthodox
Christians’.19 The evolution of Maliovannyi’s beliefs stemmed from
the radicalisation of the evangelical movement. As we see from his tes-
timony, on the one hand, this radicalisation led to a revival of ecstatic
practices among radical Stundists like Dushenkovskii. On the other hand,
the impact of educated evangelicals like Pashkov accentuated elements of
social criticism in the theology of the radical Stundists.
During 1888, Maliovannyi experienced various hallucinations: he felt
as if his body was emitting sweet exotic smells and had lost its weight.
It seemed to him that his body was flying in the air. After each prayer,
he experienced a terrible trembling. He explained these hallucina-
tions by the presence of the Holy Spirit in his body. According to his
testimony, he saw the open skies and heard a voice calling him from
above. Afterwards, he felt that his head separated from his body and
flew to the open skies. His body emanated a sweet smell and unusual
light. Simultaneously, bright stars were falling from the sky straight into
his yard. Maliovannyi declared that all these manifestations of the Holy
Ghost were signs of the second coming of Christ and the approaching
end of the world.20 A comparison of Maliovannyi’s experience to the
analogous hallucinations of the Shalaputs and other ‘spirit-possessed’
enthusiasts demonstrates the similarity of their religious practices. In
all the famous descriptions of ‘spiritual Christians’, such as Anglo-
American Quakers and Shakers, observers noted the same stages of the
Holy Ghost’s revelations: loss of the body’s weight, trembling (the so-
called quaking of the Spirit), the sensation of flying, heavenly smells, and
voices. As a rule, these stages of hallucination are signs of divine rev-
elation for every sincere believer. According to religious anthropology,
each new prophet is supposed to experience these psychological stages
and demonstrate the authenticity of his or her divinely inspired emo-
tions before his or her adherents. Such demonstrations created what Max
Weber described as the ‘charisma’ of religious prophets.21
As a result of his hallucinatory experiences, Maliovannyi quit the
Baptist congregation and established a new worship meeting in his
own house in 1889. Four families from the Tarashcha Baptists joined
him; during one ecstatic session in his house on 15 October 1889, they
declared him the new Messiah, the Saviour of the World, Jesus Christ.22
One adherent described this event in her letter to P. Biriukov; in October
1889, Maliovannyi invited to his house all those who wished to ‘glorify
the Lord to join him in his fasting and praying’.
They prayed without a break, she wrote, for two days. Suddenly on
the evening of the second day, the Divine Glory arrived, and the martyr
Kondrat trembled in all his body under the influence of the Holy Ghost.
And then, he spoke in different language and started to sing very loudly:
‘Do you hear the Voice of God, Who is singing in the garden, He is
singing with new voice because the eternal spring is coming’. After this
singing, one sister, Martha, kneeled down, embraced Kondrat’s legs and
cried: ‘Surely, you are the true Christ, the Saviour of the world!’ Kondrat
meekly raised her from the floor and said: ‘Do not do this, but bow and
glorify God, Who created the Heaven and the Earth’. But she contin-
ued to cry louder and louder: ‘It is true that you are our Saviour, Jesus
Christ!’ Then, the body of another brother, Savelii, shook tremendously.
Savelii trembled with great excitement because of the presence of the
Holy Spirit among them and he shouted: ‘Yes, you are our Saviour Jesus
Christ!’ All who were in the house cried out the same and were influ-
enced by the descent of the Holy Ghost.23
This news attracted other Stundo-Baptists to Maliovannyi’s house,
and the number of his followers began to grow. As his adherents
explained in their petition to the tsar in 1901, they worshipped him
from the very moment of ‘his Transfiguration’ in October 1889 as ‘the
Incarnation of the Word of God, which gave [them] spiritual life and
served as the Living Book of the New Testament’.24
From 1890, meetings were held every day in Maliovannyi’s house.
Usually, they began with the singing of religious hymns and ecstatic
praying that reached its peak when the participants began to tremble
and shake. Then, they cried hysterically and pronounced strange com-
binations of sounds; some of them jumped around, while others clapped
their hands and danced. The followers of Maliovannyi explained that
they were under the influence of the Holy Spirit. They interpreted
their enthusiasm as spiritual preparation for the oncoming millennium,
because Jesus Christ, Kondrat Maliovannyi, had already arrived.
After 1890, this movement spread all over Kiev province. Hundreds
of local peasants from the neighbouring villages came to see the new
prophet. The local clergy and the Baptist ministers complained to the
86 S.I. Zhuk
police about his preaching and the pilgrimage of his followers to his
house in Tarashcha. After his imprisonment in the local jail in February
1890, Maliovannyi was examined by a psychiatrist and diagnosed as
mentally ill. Ivan Sikorskii, a professor of psychiatry at Kiev University,
described Maliovannyi’s disease as ‘mental dysfunction in the form of ini-
tial delirious madness of the religious character (Paranoia religiosa chron-
ica)’.25 Later on, all experts in Kiev and Kazan’ confirmed this diagnosis.
However, even the persecution, arrest, and imprisonment of Maliovannyi
from 1891 to 1905 in mental hospitals (first in Kiev and then in Kazan’)
did not stop his movement.26
The local administration was worried by the movement’s rapid
growth after 1892. In Vasil’kov district, all the Stundists had joined
the Maliovantsy movement by 1899. The Maliovantsy stopped work-
ing and spent their time praying and preparing for the millennium. In
some localities, whole villages made collective preparations for the end
of the world and the Last Judgment. On winter nights, they moved to
frozen lakes, where they washed themselves and their children in the cold
water. Afterwards, they stayed in the snow on their knees, praying to
God to save them. In 1895, Maliovannyi was transferred from the men-
tal asylum in Kiev to the mental hospital in Kazan’, further away from
his adherents. Afterwards, Kondrat Maliovannyi and his ‘prophet’ Stepan
Chekmariov, a Russian peasant with a Shalaput background who was in
the same mental institution in Kazan’, carried on a lively correspondence
with their followers in Ukraine.
In May 1892, the governor of Kiev sent a special medical commis-
sion to examine the participants in this movement.27 Professor Sikorskii,
who headed this commission, described it as a ‘psychotic epidemic’ and
singled out four distinctive features. The first was the heightened sense
of smell among active participants. At least 80% of the Maliovantsy
noted a sweet smell, which they considered the sign of the Holy Spirit
among them. The second was audio-visual hallucinations. All participants
heard strange voices and sounds; they felt that they were flying in the
air during their ecstatic praying. The third feature was passivity of will
and, related to this, a heightened sensibility. The Maliovantsy were eas-
ily moved and often cried during their meetings. Sometimes, their weep-
ing developed into hysterical sobbing. Lastly, the most characteristic
feature of Maliovantsy psychology was their propensity to go into con-
vulsions. All participants of this movement experienced trembling of the
body during their meetings. When they felt the Holy Spirit, they began
to shake; sometimes, somebody fell on the floor and shook, rolling back
and forth.28 It is noteworthy that Professor Sikorskii singled out the ele-
ments of religious enthusiasm which many religious radicals share. Such
behaviour was typical for radical dissidents who experienced the inner
divine light of the Holy Ghost, such as the Quakers and the Shakers.29
Professor Sikorskii tried to explain the unusual behaviour of the religious
radicals, their ‘intoxication by the Holy Spirit’, through their chronic
alcoholism, as did other observers of religious enthusiasm, such as the
Puritan and Baptist theologians who criticised the first Quakers and
Shakers.30 All the participants of the Maliovantsy movement had drunk
too much before they converted to Baptism. Some of them belonged to
families with long histories of alcoholism. According to Sikorskii, former
alcoholics were psychologically more likely to feel religious ecstasy and
experience hallucinations.31 If true, this observation might explain the
mass spread of ecstatic forms of religious worship in those localities of
the Ukrainian provinces where alcoholism had been a mass phenomenon
among the local rural population.
The Millenarian Theology of the Maliovantsy

The entire theology of Maliovantsy was based on the idea of the
approaching end of the world and the millennium. As the Son of God
and the new Saviour of the world, Maliovannyi was supposed to ascend
into heaven, return to earth, and supervise the Last Judgment for those
who did not believe in him. His followers thought that Jesus Christ was
not a historical character and that the Gospels were prophetic. All the
Gospel stories were parables predicting the life of Kondrat Maliovannyi.
He performed the miracles that had been described in the Gospels. All
those who followed him became living temples, filled with the Holy
Ghost. God had already chosen them for eternal life. These elected
Christians had no need for external forms of religious organisation or
ritual because they had already established a direct connection to the
Holy Spirit. As they explained to Iasevich-Borodaevskaia, Holy Scripture
was necessary only for beginners in the search for divine truth. The Bible
was the key to divine knowledge. However, for those who had already
received this knowledge through an emanation and incarnation of the
Holy Spirit, the Bible was not so important. The Maliovantsy thought
that the Holy Ghost revealed to them the true ‘living’ law of God, not
just a written one.32 The entire theology of their movement was based
88 S.I. Zhuk
on literally following the epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians: ‘You are
the temple of the living God, as God hath said, I will dwell in them: and
I walk in them; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people’. [2
Cor. 6:16] 33
According to the Maliovantsy, during the Last Judgment, there would
be a spiritual resurrection for everybody. They understood this resurrec-
tion as a transition from a sinful life to a holy one. For them, sin was
death for the soul. Without sin, the human soul could resurrect itself for
an eternal life. Therefore, the Maliovantsy waited for the Last Judgment
and prepared themselves for eternal life. They stopped working, sold
their property, and bought expensive food and clothes. The Governor
General of the south-western region gave a detailed description of
the very beginning of this movement. According to his report to the
Ministry of the Interior on 27 April 1892, the followers of Maliovannyi
literally followed the Acts of the Apostles and denounced private prop-
erty: ‘all that believed were together, and had all things in common; and
sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all men, as every
man had need’ [Acts 2:44–45].34
As with all spiritual Christians, the Maliovantsy extended their
notions of equality to their familial relations. They avoided the tradi-
tional age hierarchy of peasant families. Spouses, parents, and children
were simply sisters and brothers in the new Christian communities of the
Maliovantsy, who ‘shared one Divine Body and one Divine Spirit’.35 The
peasant dissidents sold all their cattle and even food that came from ani-
mals. According to their beliefs, it was a sin to eat the meat of domestic
animals or otherwise exploit them on the eve of the millennium. All ani-
mals should rejoice at the coming of the New Age. All the Maliovantsy
in Kiev province had sold their property and quit work by March 1892
(the anticipated month of the Last Judgment). They tried to enjoy
their life before the Last Judgment and live as an elect who deserved
the happy life of the millennium. Therefore, they ate very expensive
food and wore costly and fashionable dresses. As the Governor General
noted, the Maliovantsy ‘were dressed foppishly according to fashions of
the city’. Furthermore, he made a very interesting observation about the
reversal of the established dress code by peasant dissidents in their expec-
tation of the world to come: they rejected their simple national dress and
replaced it with the dress of the elite. The Governor General wrote:
They removed their old Ukrainian national dress as the peasant sym-
bol of their former slavery and exploitation. Their new expensive dress
symbolised their expectation of freedom and their hopes of a better life

and their privileged position in their Redeemer’s Kingdom, which is
already approaching. During the Millennium, the Earth will be cleansed of
the human sins; all sinners will be purified by fire and brimstone; but eve-
rybody will be saved. After an ordeal of purification, all people will enter in
the blissful and everlasting Kingdom, and the Maliovantsy, as the elected
nation, will be first to get to this Kingdom of equality and prosperity.36
Professor Sikorskii, who led a medical commission to study the phenom-

enon, confirmed this symbolic denial of previous social status. According
to his portrayal of the movement in 1892, the peasant followers of
Maliovannyi stopped working and celebrated a life of leisure because
Maliovannyi had led them out of the ‘Egypt of labour and slavery’.
Therefore, they changed their dress and their lifestyle to emphasise their
new non-peasant (ne-muzhik) identity. Their olfactory hallucinations
also belonged to their new cultural identity. They denied the traditional
smells of their peasant existence. Instead, they chose the aroma of the
elite, associating the Holy Spirit with the perfume they smelled on their
landlords. Thus, the peasant dissidents symbolically expressed a cultural
protest against their social status.37
According to the prophecies of their leaders, the Maliovantsy expected
the beginning of the Last Judgment and the end of ‘this sinful world’
on 25 March 1892. They purified themselves both spiritually and phys-
ically. The most enthusiastic and impatient washed their bodies in ice-
cold water during the winter and waited for the millennium to come,
staying naked for hours in the snow. The greatest mass exodus of the
naked Maliovantsy and their families to the fields took place on the freez-
ing night of 25 March.38 Some of their leaders experienced spirit posses-
sion and ‘spiritual transformation’. Some declared that they shared with
Kondrat Maliovannyi the same divine essence of Jesus Christ. Mitrofan
Mudrik, a peasant from the village of Leonovka (Kiev district), proph-
esied under the influence of the Holy Ghost and called himself ‘the liv-
ing emanation of the Holy Spirit’. The peasants who waited for the Last
Judgment in March 1892 considered Mudrik a spiritual successor of
Maliovannyi, ‘the new Savior and Redeemer of the world’. Dementii and
Agafia Rudchuk, a peasant couple from the village of Turbovka (Skvira
district), laid the foundation for the worship of Mitrofan Mudrik as their
new ‘Redeemer’. Professor Sikorskii’s commission sent all the spiritual
successors of Maliovannyi, such as Mitrofan Mudrik, to a mental asylum
in 1892.39
90 S.I. Zhuk
The Maliovantsy After Maliovannyi

After the arrest of Maliovannyi and other peasant ‘Redeemers’, his suc-
cessors changed the movement’s theology. By 1899, Ivan Lysenko, a
peasant from the village of Verbova (Skvira district), became their new
leader. He was another dissident with a dislocated identity. From child-
hood, he had lived the life of a vagabond. He did not like to stay at
home and travelled all over Kiev province. To stop his travels, his parents
forced him to marry. However, marriage proved ineffective. In 1887, he
left his wife and children and went to Siberia, where his brother lived in
exile. For six years, he travelled in Siberia and the Caucasus, where he
met Shalaputs, Molokans, and exiled Stundists. He learned a lot from
these travels and his conversations with various religious dissidents.40
When he returned home in 1893, Lysenko brought new dissident
ideas to his village. His enraged wife drove him out of their house.
As a result, in 1898, he settled down in the neighbouring village of
Turbovka, where he became the new preacher of the local Maliovantsy.
In his preaching about the approaching end of the world, he revived
Maliovannyi’s ideas about the millennium. Moreover, his talent for
preaching, his intelligence, his clean and well-made clothes, and his
handsome appearance attracted many peasants (mostly young women)
from the neighbouring villages to his sermons. He preached that,
on the eve of the millennium, true Christians had to make common
all their property and belongings and live as one big family. The new-
born Christians did not need laws and restrictions to regulate their per-
sonal lives. Instead of the ‘hypocritical’ marriage laws, Lysenko offered
the ‘free spiritual love’ of ‘pure souls’. As a result of this preaching,
Agafia Rudchuk, the most beautiful and ecstatic prophetess among the
Maliovantsy from Turbovka and a loyal adherent of Mitrofan Mudrik
(the ‘emanation of the Holy Spirit’), left her husband and became
Lysenko’s ‘spiritual wife’. Lysenko declared Kondrat Maliovannyi to be
God the Father. According to this new interpretation, Lysenko himself
was the Son of God, and his friend, the peasant Mitrofan Mudrik, was
the Holy Ghost. Lysenko and Mudrik preached that the millennium
had been already opened with the arrival of God the Father, Kondrat
Maliovannyi. Meanwhile, all the dissident peasants discussed the rumours
generated by publication of the German astronomer Falk about a space
catastrophe which would affect the Earth. According to Falk’s calcula-
tions, the disaster would take place on 13 November 1899. Lysenko
and his followers used these rumours to confirm the approaching

millennium.41
As elected Christians, the Maliovantsy were supposed to begin a new
life without property and go to the Promised Land, to Kazan’, where
God the Father lived. Six families, the most zealous followers of Lysenko
and Mudrik, united their households into one; on 1 November, they
moved all their belongings into one house in Turbovka. In this way, they
tried to recreate the first Christian communities described in the New
Testament. The Turbovka community of Maliovantsy organised the exo-
dus to the Promised Land for all ‘re-born’ Christians who were ‘ready
for the Millennium of their Heavenly Father and Redeemer, Kondrat
Maliovannyi’. Under the leadership of Lysenko, the Turbovka dissidents
arrived in Kiev on 6 November 1899 and organised their noisy, ecstatic
prayer in a cheap hotel. Their loud rituals attracted the city police: all the
dissidents were arrested and sent back to their villages.42
Lysenko and his followers expressed the main ideas of the millen-
nial movement, which all the religious radicals, including the Shalaputs
and the ‘spiritual Stundists’, shared. These were ideas of social protest
and the reversal of traditional social and cultural roles. The dissidents’
main goal was social justice on earth. This was obvious from the police
interview with Lysenko in November 1899. Responding to a question
about the reasons for the exodus, Lysenko explained that the dissident
peasants were looking for more land and a better life. The peasants in
Tarashcha and Skvira districts comprised the most impoverished part of
the rural population of Kiev province. They did not have enough land
to survive. During the cold winters, they had to steal wood from the for-
est which belonged to the local landlords. At the end of the interview,
Lysenko asked the police officer a question which revealed the social
background of this peasant movement. This police officer, whose parents
had estates in the province of Kiev, was dressed in an expensive winter
fur coat. Lysenko recognised him and thus asked the question: ‘Do you
know, mister, the story of your fur coat?’ Without waiting for an answer,
he explained to the surprised officer: ‘My great-grandfather worked as a
slave for your grandfather, who exploited and humiliated him and took
the skin from my great-grandfather’s body. This is how your fur coat
appeared. It came from the skins of your slaves, the Ukrainian peasants’.43
Despite the persecution of the police, Lysenko’s ideas spread around
Kiev province and reached Kherson province by 1900. In the village
of Petro-ostrov, Elizavetgrad district, a local peasant woman Marina
92 S.I. Zhuk
proclaimed herself to be Christ. The local peasants came to her house to

worship her. They shared the main ideas and religious practices common
to all groups of the Maliovantsy. Marina offered her followers not only
the rituals of spirit possession, but also social criticism and the promise
to restore justice after the Last Judgment. In 1903, Petro-ostrov became
a centre of pilgrimage for Maliovantsy from as far away as Kiev.44 The
rejection of the secular authorities and private property, the introduction
of communal property, and new, more liberal sexual relations between
female and male members of the community were the elements of the
movement initiated by Lysenko. Other young peasant prophets, such as
Moisei Todosienko from the village of Iakhny, shared Lysenko’s ideas
and also combined their religious practices with social activism in the
Ukrainian countryside.45 Kondrat Maliovannyi, however, worried about
the radical character of Lysenko’s interpretations of his ideas; after his
return to Tarashcha from the Kazan’ hospital in 1905, he condemned
Lysenko’s extremism.
The theology and religious practices of the Maliovantsy, despite their
varying emphasis on social criticism, remained the same from 1890 to
1905. To be saved, they taught, man should be born from Christ.
Through Christ incarnated in the human soul, the Christian believer
could receive eternal life. All true believers, through their virtuous lives
and ecstatic praying, could embody God in their souls by receiving the
Holy Spirit. However, only one man, Kondrat Maliovannyi, was able
to embody the entire divine essence and become God Himself. He was
the only one whose coming was predicted and described in the Holy
Scriptures. The people expected him and painted his image in icons. This
was why his last name derives from the word ‘one who was painted, or
one who was portrayed by paint’ (maliovannyi in Russian). ‘The sacred
theatre’ of the millennium, a drama of spiritual resurrection and per-
sonal incarnation, the elements of which had already existed in the ritu-
als of the first Shalaputs, reached a peak of intensity in the movement
of Maliovantsy. All the participants were involved in performances of the
Holy Spirit. If the Shalaputs and the radical Stundists expected the mil-
lennium, the Maliovantsy performed it and created the conditions for the
end of time. This was typical of all the millennial groups in the Radical
Reformation in Western Europe and for various post-reformational reli-
gious movements, such as Pentecostalism.
It is noteworthy how the Maliovantsy used a system of allegories in
their interpretation of Holy Scripture. They continued the old tradition
of all popular radical movements in Christianity: an appropriation and

elaboration of biblical images, merged with local folklore. The first
Anabaptists, the early Quakers, the legendary Ranters of the English
Revolution, the Rogerenes from Connecticut, the first Shakers, and
the Russian Khlysty and Shalaputs all did much the same thing. As one
adherent of Maliovannyi told an Orthodox missionary:
The Saviour lives in sinful man, therefore He suffers inside this man rather
than on the cross. When a man learns the Divine road, Christ will be born
inside this man. The Holy Virgin is Divine wisdom, and from this wisdom
Christ is born in man. If somebody will feel the Spirit inside (he will feel
trembling inside), this is the evidence that Christ is born. Christ was not
baptised in water, because baptism is faith and repentance. The manger
where Christ had been born is the human heart. Lazarus from the Gospel
is an image of all people: when people sin it means that Lazarus died and
stank, when the people repent, it means that Lazarus was resurrected.
We will not go to heaven with our bodies. Heaven is inside of us. The
body will perish, but our spirit will float in air till it finds new shelter inside
another virtuous man.
One follower of Maliovannyi wrote a letter to the director of the Kazan’

mental hospital and asked him to set Kondrat Maliovannyi free. In this
letter, he presented the allegoric symbolism of the Maliovantsy, explain-
ing that all the characters and events described in the New Testament
were ‘the voice of God’ and the ‘Divine sign’ of Jesus Christ’s arrival in
Tarashcha in 1892.46
The expectation of the millennium explains the new and more tolerant
attitudes of the Maliovantsy towards other denominations. The first fol-
lowers of Maliovannyi even tried to preach to Jews about the millennium.
As with all groups of the Radical Reformation, they considered the conver-
sion of the Jews to the Christian faith as the main condition for the begin-
ning of the millennium. One Maliovanets, a peasant from the district of
Vasil’kovka, regularly visited the synagogue in the town of Belaia Tserkva
from September 1891 to March 1892. He preached to the Jews about
Maliovannyi and the millennium. However, the local police stopped his
proselytising activities and eventually sent him to the Kiev mental asylum.47
The Maliovantsy considered themselves pioneers of a moral resurrec-
tion who tried to help other people understand divine truth. They did
not confront the Orthodox Church as the radical Stundists had done.
They explained the existence of various churches, laws, and rituals as a
94 S.I. Zhuk
means of social control which God had established over sinful peo-
ple. Nevertheless, in their distinction between ‘formal law’ and ‘Divine
grace’, the followers of Maliovannyi shared the main ideas of the Radical
Reformation about the priority of inner spiritual faith. ‘God gave all
earthly laws, sacraments, Russian Orthodoxy, Roman Catholicism and
various religions to those people, who live as animals’, Maliovantsy told
V. Iasevich-Borodaevskaia:
Such people need earthly laws and various religions as much as the wild
animals need cages. As long as people will not know God, they must obey
the external law, which punishes. When a man knows God, human law will
be replaced in his soul by the inner spiritual law of God. God needs nei-
ther churches nor rituals, but He needs the sincere obedience of men in
love and in truth. When a man comprehends the Truth, removes all the
sins from his soul, and achieves spiritual re-birth, such a man will live ‘not
under the law, but under [Divine] grace’ [Rom. 6:14] and will not be able
to sin any more.48
At the same time, like all groups of the Radical Reformation, includ-
ing the Anabaptists (Mennonites) and Quakers, the Maliovantsy were
pacifists. As Kondrat Maliovannyi wrote to his followers, ‘the kings and
the rulers of this world invented wars and violence’. Christian teaching
‘deniedwar and brought peace to this world’. Therefore, Christ opposed
violence, and all who followed Him did the same. That was why the lead-
ers of the Maliovantsy suffered, because they defended the principle of
peace and non-violence among the people. The rulers of this world pun-
ished them as opponents of their world of violence. The Shalaputs, as well
as some radical Stundists, shared pacifist ideas with the Maliovantsy.49
In September 1901, the Ministry of the Interior received a petition
signed by 500 activists demanding freedom for Maliovannyi. When he
was released from the hospital in 1905, his movement included more than
1000 peasants from Kiev province.50 In 1909, the radical Stundists and
Maliovantsy were more numerous than the Baptists there. Among the 9300
registered members of the evangelical sects, there were 3608 Stundists who
rejected Baptist ceremonies, 1687 ‘evangelical Christians’, 1553 Maliovantsy,
and only 1787 Baptists. By 1917, it was the radical evangelicals, rather than
the Baptists, who shaped the dissident movement in Kiev province.51
At the end of the 1890s, millennial expectations had spread all over
the southern provinces of Russia. Stundo-Shalaput groups, which were
similar to the Maliovantsy, appeared in the provinces of Bessarabia,

Tavrida, Kherson, and Stavropol: more than 5000 members were reg-
istered by the police.52 By 1905, most Stundo-Shalaputs stopped their
enthusiastic religious practices and turned to practical questions of sur-
vival in late imperial Russia. Some of them tried to emigrate abroad,
while others tried to organise new agricultural communities inside
Russia. During this adjustment, some established connections with
Russian intellectuals, particularly with the followers of Lev Tolstoy and
Colonel Pashkov, who shared their evangelical expectations. Under
the influence of these intellectuals and socialist revolutionary propa-
ganda, some of the most radical Stundo-Shalaputs even turned to social
activism.
Between 1900 and 1917, the radical Stundo-Shalaput version of
the evangelical movement spread beyond the southern provinces and
reached other provinces in Russia. Along with Shalaput/Khlyst and the
Stundo-Baptist groups, the Stundo-Shalaputs participated in the Russian
popular reformation, whose influence shaped the evangelical movement
in late imperial and, to some extent, Soviet, Russia, and Ukraine.
Notes
1. The development of Stundism has been covered in detail by both Russian
and Western historians. See: Coleman (2005), Beznosova (1998).
2. Bonnekemper (1894), pp. 203.
3. The Ukrainian Stundists did not fit the official image of a dissident move-
ment in Russian historiography. All historians now agree that Ukrainian
Stundism eventually contributed to the development of a broad evangel-
ical movement in Russia and the Soviet Union. Yet, the history of the
Stundist peasants, their theology, and religious practices is still unclear
and confused. Even at the beginning of the twentieth century, Russian
observers of the Stundist movement were not sure about its real origins.
The obvious similarities between German and Russian sectarians, who
were both referred to as the ‘Stundists’, confused both liberal and con-
servative authors. At the same time, all observers noted millenarian trends
in the theology of the Ukrainian peasant dissidents. The more insightful
Orthodox scholars of Stundism, such as Arsenii Rozhdestvenskii, Alexei
Dorodnitsyn, and Piotr Kozitskii, expressed their uncertainty about the
origins of Russian Stundism in lists of different views regarding various
theories on Stundist roots in the Russian Empire. See Rozhdestvenskii
(1889), pp. 12–13, 42–43, 59–60, Dorodnitsyn (1908), pp. 117, 122,
Kozitskii (1908), pp. 3ff.
96 S.I. Zhuk
4. Rozhdestvenskii (1889), pp. 145, 147. According to the official report

of the governor of Kiev, there were 3085 Stundists in the province in
1885. In Kherson province, the local governor counted 3049 Stundists
in 1885. In Volynia, the police registered between 36 and 65 Stundists.
In the province of Ekaterinoslav, by 1890 the police had registered 267
Stundists. Before this, 260 Stundists had returned to the Orthodox
Church. Therefore, between 1885 and 1890, we can calculate that there
were 527 officially registered Stundists in the province of Ekaterinoslav.
Between 1885 and 1890, the Kharkov police registered 240 Stundists
among the local peasants. See: Rossiiskii gosudarstvennyi istoricheskii
arkhiv (RGIA), f.1263, op.1, d.4546, l.836; d.4543, l.424ob.; RGIA,
Otchet Volynskogo gubernatora za 1885 god, 8; Otchet Volynskogo
gubernatora za 1889 god, 7; Otchet Ekaterinoslavskogo gubernatora za
1890 god, l.371ob.; Otchet Kharkovskogo gubernatora za 1890 god,
l.607.
5. See in: Episkop Alexii (Dorodnitsyn) (1908), pp. 569–584, Klibanov
(1965), pp. 209, 232–233, Heier (1970), Coleman (2005), pp. 21–25.
Some Western scholars have occasionally misinterpreted these develop-
ments, especially with regards to the history of the Maliovantsy. Compare
this account with the confusing picture of these events in an article by
Daniel Beer, ‘The Medicalization of Religious Deviance in the Russian
Orthodox Church (1880–1905)’, Kritika: Explorations in Russian and
Eurasian History 5(3), (2004): 451–482. Beer made a lot of mistakes,
obviously dismissed original documents, and ignored Russian and Soviet
historiography about the movement of Maliovannyi. Moreover, he mis-
takenly treats the Maliovantsy as Old Believers and calls their leader not
Kondrat, but Vitalii.
6. RGIA, f.1284, op.241, d.181. Calculations based on the material from:
RGIA, f.821, op.133, d.21, l.275 ob.-277 ob.
7. Shalaputs were the radical version of a Russian (Orthodox) Christian spir-
itual sect known as ‘God’s People’, which the police called khlysty. The
name ‘Shalaputs’ was derived from the Russian ‘those who took a sinful
path in their lives (shal’noi put’)’. See: Sergei Zhuk (2003), pp. 115–145.
8. I am using a concept developed by Williams, (1962).
9. RGIA, f.796, op.168, d.1368, l. 12–13. On 14 October 1888, Nikanor,
the archbishop of Kherson and Odessa, presented this information to the
Holy Synod.
10. RGIA, f.1284, op.222 (1892), d.24, l.1–6, 10–11. The Stundists Vasilii
Strukov, Piotr Maslov, and others, belonged to famous Shalaput families.
11. RGIA, f.797, op.65, 2otd., 3st., d.293, l.1-4, 8ob., 10, 15ob., 20–22,
22ob.-23; f.796, op.176, d.2184, l.2–7.
12. The Anglo-American Friends saw the similarities between this movement

and Quakerism. See Dillon (1893), pp. 320–323. The author called
Maliovannyi ‘the Russian George Fox.’ See page 321. See also a por-
trayal of this movement by a British author as the ‘spiritual evangelical
revival’ in: Sloan (1910), pp. 155–164. The chapter about the movement
was entitled ‘Lo, Here is Christ! Or There!’ and it presented a confused
and mistaken picture of the Maliovantsy. The most recent studies of the
Maliovannyi movement (both in Russian and English) have presented it
as a manifestation of class struggle. See: A. Klibanov, op. cit., 218–221;
Camfield (1990), pp. 692–717.
13. What follows is based on various versions of the recorded biography of
Maliovannyi. See: Achkasov (1913); Zhikharev (1909), pp. 1–14.
14. It is not clear who those prophets were. Maliovannyi called them
‘masony’. However, according to his description, they might have been
either Shalaputs or Mennonite Jumpers. See: Kievskaia mysl’, 1913, No.
67, 2.
15. Yushchenko (1913), pp. 239–240.
16. Istoricheskii vestnik, 1913, No. 4, 239. It is obvious that Kondrat
Maliovannyi was illiterate. At the same time, he knew the text of the
Holy Scripture by heart. Like many Stundists, he had learnt the letters
of Russian alphabet and could read with difficulty; however, he could not
write at all.
17. Quoted from Maliovannyi’s testimony of 1901 and 1905 in: RGIA,
f.1284, op.222, d.51, l.3, 17, 17ob., 18. Compare this with a refined
version of Maliovannyi’s letter published by Lev Tolstoy’s follower
Tregubov, 1907, pp.18–19.
18. It seems likely that Maliovannyi could only read printed text. According
to the police documents, he could not read handwriting and could not
write.
19. RGIA, f.1284, op.222, d.51, l. 18; Poznanie Rossii, 1909, Kn. 2, 2–3;
Istoricheskii vestnik,, 4, (1913): 240.6
20. See a record of the detailed interrogation of Maliovannyi in a Kazan’ men-
tal hospital: RGIA, f.1284, op.222, d.51, l.2-3ob., and l.16–19.
21. Maliovannyi’s hallucinatory experience is reminiscent of what ‘the public
friends’ (the Quaker preachers) described in their memoirs as their rev-
elations. See the most famous autobiographies of Quakers: Edmundson
(1715), pp. 1–20ff., Bownas (1761), pp. 1–16ff., Richardson (1759), pp.
1–20ff., Vokins (1691), pp. 1–35, Chalkley (1749), pp. 1–21.
22. According to Maliovannyi’s wife, when Dushenkovskii was arrested
for his preaching and sent to the Tarashcha prison, his friends stayed at
their house and talked with Maliovannyi, who then invited relatives and
98 S.I. Zhuk
close friends for a meeting separate from local Stundo-Baptists. At this

meeting, they read and interpreted the Bible. When Maliovannyi felt the
descent of the Holy Spirit, he began to tremble, heard strange voices, and
smelled ‘divine smells’. Eventually, his friends discovered in the biblical
text indications that Kondrat Maliovannyi had been sent to them as the
Son of God, the new Saviour. Maliovannyi recalled that, on 15 October
1889, his followers, who were impressed by his trembling, kneeled
before him and shouted, ‘You are our Saviour! We had crucified you and
we had not believed you before. But now you are resurrected. Forgive
us!’See: Iasevich-Borodaevskaia (1912), pp. 134–135. The citation from:
Achkasov (1913), pp. 2.
23. The citation is from: Biriukov (1905), pp. 8–9.
24. RGIA, f.1284, op.222, d.115, l.17ob. Maliovannyi in his memoirs mistak-
enly gave another date, October 1889. See: Kievskaia mysl’, 1913, No.
68, 2, No. 69, 3.
25. See a description of this diagnosis in: RGIA, f.1284, op.222 (1900),
d.115, l.22-22ob.; op.222 (1905), d.51, l.15. It is noteworthy that a
doctor from the Kazan’ hospital confessed that Maliovannyi was not a
dangerous mental patient. However, at the same time, this doctor rec-
ommended keeping him in the hospital to curtail his influence on the
peasants. See about Ivan Sikorskii’s influence on Russian psychiatry in
Sirotkina (2002), pp. 136–139.
26. A. Klibanov mistakenly gave the date of his arrest as 1892. See: A.
Klibanov, op. cit., 219.
27. Sikorskii (1900a, b), pp. 44–103.
28. Sikorskii (1900a, b), pp. 56–60.
29. See Dickens and Tonkin (1985), pp. 220.
30. See about Quakers, Mather (1684), pp. 341–347. See about the rumours
that the Shaker leaders ‘delight themselves much in feasting and drink-
ing spirituous liquor’ in Backus, 1777–1796, pp. 297. See a general dis-
cussion on drunkenness and religious enthusiasm in: Garrett (1987), pp.
202–206.
31. Sikorskii, op. cit., 46, 92–103. The opponents of Shakers tried to explain
the dissidents’ rituals by their alcoholism as well. See: Garrett (1987), pp.
208–209.
32. RGIA, f.1284, op.222, d.49, l.7-7-ob. As local officials noted, the
Maliovantsy considered the Bible ‘the book of the prophecies’, to which
they had added ‘the teaching and letters of Maliovannyi and the revela-
tions of other members of the sect who were inspired by the Holy Spirit.’
33. ‘The Holy Ghost’, one adherent of Maliovannyi said, ‘descends and lives
in a man till this man is clean of sin. But when the man begins to sin, the
Holy Ghost leaves him and looks for another, more virtuous man who
is seeking salvation. Therefore we live a virtuous life and the Holy Spirit
dwells in and directs us.’ V. Iasevich-Borodaevskaia, op. cit., 144–145.
They paraphrased St Paul, insisting that the ‘human body was the temple
of the Holy Ghost, which was in the true believer, which he had of God.’
[1 Cor. 6:19].
34. See the text of report in RGIA, f.1284, op.222, d.49, l.5-11. The gover-
nor-general reported to the tsar in June 1892: ‘these Stundists-mystics
attempted to reproduce the basics of communism in their communitar-
ian and everyday life by literally following the Acts of the Apostles: they
preached that all property, labour, food, beverages, and houses should
be used in common.’ The Maliovantsy sold their property and bought
expensive dresses and food for the celebration of the coming advent of
Jesus Christ. By doing this, peasant dissidents rejected their Ukrainian
peasant identity and identified themselves with the cosmopolitan commu-
nity of ‘elect Christians’.
35. RGIA, f.1284, op.222, d.49, l.5ob.-6.
36. RGIA, f.1284, op.222, d.49, l.6ob.-7.
37. Sikorskii, op. cit., pp. 52–54. Citation is from page 53.
38. Belogorskii (1908), pp. 75.
39. RGIA, f.796, op.175, d.1847, l.1-1ob. See Sikorskii, pp. 44–103. See
other cases of the mental treatment of the Maliovantsy in: Tsentral’nyi
derzhavnyi istorychnyi arkhiv Ukrainy (hereafter—TsDIAU), f.442,
op.691, d.260, l. 13–14.
40. The Orthodox scholar of the Maliovantsy, Savva Potekhin, denied direct
Khlyst influences on the Ukrainian peasants, although he did note the
possibility of Shalaput and Molokan influences on Lysenko during his
travels. See Missionerskoe obozrenie, 1900, November, 518.
41. See Missionerskoe obozrenie, 1900, pp. 247–248,
42. Missionerskoe obozrenie, 1900, September, pp. 291–292; October, pp.
247–248. See also RGIA, f.1284, op.222 (1900), d.115, l.1–4.
43. Missionerskoe obozrenie, 1900, September, pp. 292–293.
44. Sokolovskii (1903).
45. Missionerskoe obozrenie, 1901, December, pp. 871–873.
46. Russian State Library, Manuscript Department, [hereafter—RGB], f.435,
k.65, d.45, l.5, 8.
47. Sikorskii, op. cit., pp. 78.
48. Iasevich-Borodaevskaia, op. cit., pp. 148–149.
49. RGB, f.435, k.65, d.45, l. pp. 11.
50. RGIA, f.1284, op.222, d.115, l.6–7, pp. 14, 15; see the text of peti-
tion on l.17-18ob. Every Orthodox periodical published something on
Maliovannyi and his movement. Missionerskoe obozrenie published an
100 S.I. Zhuk
article or two on the Maliovantsy every year. The most interesting were:
Potekhin (1900), pp. 234–249; 502–514.
51. RGIA, f.1284, op.241, d.181. Calculations based on the material
from: RGIA, f.821, op.133, d.21, l.275ob.-277ob. The province of
Ekaterinoslav had the same proportions: 212 Stundists, 812 Evangelical
Christians, and 289 Baptists.
52. In some localities, the chiliastic hysteria among the new zealots of the
‘spiritual Christian’ sect reached the traditional Old Believer communi-
ties and led to collective suicide. In 1897, near Tiraspol’, 25 radical Old
Believers went to a remote cave, closed themselves in, and waited for the
coming end of the world. All died in the cave. See in detail: Sikorskii,
1900, pp. 165–258.
References
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fond 276 Yugo-Zapadnoe raionnoe okhrannoe otdelenie.
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75.
Biriukov, P. 1905. Maliovantsy. Istoria odnoi sekty.I zdanie “Svobodnogo slova,”
Pod redaktsiei V. Chertkova. Christchurch, Hants, England.
Bonch-Bruevich, Vladimir D. (ed.) 1902. Delo pavlovskikh krest’an: (ofitsial’nye
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Camfield, G.P. 1990. The Pavlovtsy of Khar’kov Province, 1886–1905: Harmless
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Thought. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press.
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Neo-Stundism. By A Russian Persecutor,” The Review of Reviews, Ed. by W.T.
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eskogo dvizhenia na iuge Rossii vo vtoroi polovine XIX-go veka (Kazan’: Gos.
tipografia, 1908).
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alisticheskogo dvizhenia na iuge Rossii vo vtoroi polovine XIX-go veka (Kazan:
Tsentr. Tip-fiia).
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Radstockism and Pashkovism (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1970).
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obzor zakonodatel’stva po staroobriadchestvu i sektantstvu v ego posledovatel’nom
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razvitii s prilozheniem statei zakona i vysochaishikh ukazov. St Petersburg: Gos.

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XIX v. - 1917g.). Moscow: Nauka.
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Stoughton.
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(Boston: n.p., 1684).
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obozrenie, February, pp. 234–249; 502–514.
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fiia Chertkova].
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de la religion’ est-elle productive pour l’historiographie contemporaine?”
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Ternovskikh khutorakh (bliz Tiraspolia) v 1896–1897 g.,“Sbornik nauchno-
literaturnykh statei… V 5-ti knigakh. (Kiev: Gos. Tip.), vol. 1, pp. 165–258.
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gubernii,“Sbornik nauchno-literaturnykh statei… V 5-ti knigakh. (Kiev: Gos.
Tip.), vol. 5, pp. 44–103.
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Psychiatry in Russia, 1880–1930. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.
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Khersonskoi gubernii. Tip: Elizavetgradskogo uezda. St Petersburg Gos.
Yushchenko, A. 1913. “Kondratii Maliovannyi,”Istoricheskii vestnik 4.
Zhikharev, Nikolai. 1909. “Iskateli pravdy. Sredi ‘maliovantsev’,”Poznanie Rossii
(St Petersburg: Izd. Kul’turno-prosvietitel’nago t-va Nasha zhizn’), Kn. 1,
28–35; Kn. 2, pp. 1–14.
PART II
The God Worshipper Movement

and Its Influence on the Serbian
Orthodox Church
CHAPTER 7
The Nazarenes Among the Serbs:

Proselytism and/or Dissent?
Bojan Aleksov
Were it not for a couple of German-speaking apprentices from Budapest

travelling to Zurich in the mid-nineteenth century, the revivalist and
dissenting preaching of the Swiss Calvinist minister Samuel Heinrich
Fröhlich would have remained a footnote in local religious history or
a distant memory of the handful of congregations that followed him
after his suspension.1 However, his followers in Hungary, the so-called
Nazarenes, became the fastest spreading and most remarkable religious
movement in the Hungarian half of the Habsburg Empire and eventu-
ally in the newly independent, ethnically and religiously homogenous
Kingdom of Serbia. Their success can be explained at least in part by the
socio-economic deprivation of the urban proletariat and landless peas-
antry and the failure of the ‘big’ churches to address the issues of the
Empire’s numerous ethnic and linguistic minorities. I have previously
looked at length at why the Orthodox Serbs became proportionally the
most numerous converts to this movement, thus illuminating the par-
ticular confessional proclivity of the Orthodox Serbs in Hungary and
Serbia to abandon their Church and the religion of their forefathers.2
B. Aleksov (*) 
University College London, London, UK

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_7
106 B. Aleksov
Some of these reasons are illuminated in the essay below, which looks
at how the Serbian Church, or rather its clergy and episcopate in the
Belgrade and autonomous Karlovci metropolitanates, responded to what
they perceived as the Nazarene threat. Thus, this is not a study about the
Nazarenes, but the Serbian Church in the late nineteenth and early twen-
tieth centuries, when it underwent major changes whose consequences
are still being felt. Based on the Church press and archival material, this
article focuses on the lasting influence that Nazarenes had both institu-
tionally and on the religious practices of the faithful. Finally, it hints at
how the Nazarene expansion eventually stalled with the emergence of
the grassroots Bogomoljci movement.
Reactions to Nazarene Expansion

Luka Grbanović’s (1872) article in the church journal Pravoslavlje
(Orthodoxy), one of the first to report about the Nazarenes in a Serbian-
language newspaper, was full of praise for the Nazarenes’ charity, mod-
esty, friendliness, naturalness, and decency. Especially noted were their
respect for the elderly and parents, and their strict adherence to the com-
mandments.3 By the 1880s, however, the situation had changed and the
numerous conversions of Orthodox Serbs to the Nazarenes provoked
unanimous hostility.4 The initial backlash was in the form of mockery
and jokes from both clerical and lay writers; however, the jokes ceased
as panic grew, and the Nazarenes were compared to a cholera epidemic.
The famous historian Ilarion Ruvarac, the vice president of the consis-
torium of the Srem diocese, urged the metropolitanate to use its influ-
ence with the Croatian government to end the toleration of Nazarenes
by local authorities in Srem.5 In 1882, Ljubomir Panić, the archpriest of
Veliki Bečkerek in Central Banat, in a letter to his superior Georgije, the
bishop of Temišvar, described the situation as alarming and warned that
the Nazarenes were spreading in many of the villages under his guardi-
anship, such as Elemir, Taraš, and Kumane. Panić asked for additional
measures both secret and public to be undertaken by the bishops and
the patriarch, claiming that the Nazarenes were a ‘sect equally danger-
ous to the faith and to the Serbian nationality’.6 Yet the metropolitanate
and bishops neither responded to this appeal nor introduced any special
measures, leaving local priests to deal with the ‘heresy’ on their own. In
1885, 13 Orthodox priests from the Pančevo archpresbytery in South
Banat held a special meeting in the village of Crepaja to consult about
7 THE NAZARENES AMONG THE SERBS: PROSELYTISM AND/OR DISSENT? 107
how to stop ‘the Nazarene heresy that threatens to destroy Orthodox

Christianity as an all-destructive hurricane’. They asked the Holy Synod
to appeal to the state authorities for a ban on the Nazarene heresy and
demanded a more active role from the bishops, who were asked to teach
priests how to preach and advise the people, to introduce religious edu-
cation and regularly visit their flock. To this desperate appeal, the bishops
replied that they had no authority to impose a ban; as for the rest, they
were already doing all that ‘their church rank demands’.7
Most parish priests and other observers characterised the religious fer-
vour of the Nazarenes as madness, which denotes that they were clearly
unable to understand the true reasons for conversion. Such a reaction
and the lack of any early action by the hierarchy only further contrib-
uted to widespread anticlericalism among Serbian intellectuals and the
dissatisfaction of the lower clergy with their superiors. With its hands
tied by government control, the hierarchy of the Serbian metropolitanate
in Hungary faced clear obstacles in fulfilling its role. Nevertheless, their
passivity was seen as yet another proof of their being removed from the
simple flock: they could not even foresee that it was possible to choose a
religion according to one’s personal convictions. The leadership of the
Church regarded the Orthodox faith as something innate in the Serbian
people and something that secured them a privileged status, even though
these times were long gone. The parish clergy, being closer to the peo-
ple and in a less privileged position, decided to take the initiative, like in
the aforementioned meeting in Crepaja in 1885. One of the most active
priests in Banat, Jovan Malušev, wrote the first lengthy exposition and
criticism of Nazarene beliefs in 1887 in the ecclesiastical journal Glas
istine (The Voice of the Truth). The first sermons against the Nazarenes
also date from the mid-1880s. The sermons delivered by priests and cir-
culated in the church press usually pointed to Nazarene ‘delusions’, such
as the rejection of sacraments (especially the baptism of children), priests,
the apostolic succession, icons, crosses, and the decoration of churches.
These sermons, however, were dull, pompous, and devoid of any con-
nection to everyday life and needs. Their abstract moralism and distrust
of emotion and enthusiasm would have had little appeal for the common
folk. They never dealt with concrete reasons for conversions or with the
actual situation in a given village, although such texts were most often
delivered by priests in villages with large Nazarene followings.8 Instead,
typical sermons were formal theological recitations and were often
translations of exhortations delivered against the Stundists (Baptists) in
108 B. Aleksov
Russia. Typically written in the style of ‘jeremiads’, the sermons bewailed

the lax beliefs and loose behaviour of the people and relied on biblical
examples and theological arguments: these may have had a solid theolog-
ical basis, but lacked practical appeal to those seeking solace, community,
and solidarity as well as a way to escape from the vices, sins, and miseries
of everyday life.9
Still, the Serbian priests are hard to blame for delivering poor ser-
mons. They were never taught how to address the flock or to compose
homilies. Priests had barely ever preached in Serbian churches before and
pastoral theology was non-existent in its educational establishments. No
wonder that Russian sermons were the only source and inspiration to
which Serbian priests could turn. One illustration of this lack of pasto-
ral care among the Serbian clergy is the testimony of Mihajlo I. Pupin,
a famous scientist and the leading representative of Serbian immigrants
in America at the time. Pupin wrote that between 100,000 and 150,000
Serbian workers in the USA were suffering without the pastoral and cul-
tural care of their clergy.
If you believe that a missionary is a common Serbian priest who
doesn’t know anything but how to read prayers and hold ancient and
half dead sermons which neither he nor his listeners can understand,
then you are wrong… We need enlighteners who will raise faith, national
consciousness, and the level of education of our people.10
Putting the blame on priests alone because of their poor education
and lack of pastoral concern was short sighted too. In their defence, some
priests pointed to the ecclesiastical structure of the Orthodox Church,
the restrictions in the legal framework under which they were obliged
to operate, and social and political forces beyond their control. This was
evident since the Nazarenes appeared even in parishes with very active
priests, and sometimes there were none in villages without a priest.
Preaching about the causes of Nazarene successes among the Serbs,
Jovan Vučković, dean of the cathedral church of the Serbian metropoli-
tanate in Karlovci in the 1880s, described it as only one of four misfor-
tunes that plagued the Serbian Church. While the Nazarenes abandoned
the Serbian Church out of a belief that their faith was closer to the
Gospels, others disassociated themselves in favour of secular and scien-
tific values and views. The third group was those who reckoned them-
selves to belong to the Church but paid no respect to what it preached
and demanded. The fourth was apathetic and acted as if the Church did
not exist.11 In this and other statements, we can see that priests used the
dramatic phenomenon of Nazarene expansion to promote their own

agenda in relation to both the church hierarchy and the secular intel-
ligentsia. Their demands were most clearly spelled out at the so-called
priests’ assemblies.
From the late 1880s, Serbian priests, on their own initiative, began
to organise assemblies to discuss the conversion of their believers to the
Nazarenes, determine its reasons, and propose measures to prevent it.
The first big assembly attended by the clergy of all other major confes-
sions took place again in Crepaja in the summer of 1887.12 Together
with their guests, Serbian priests reached a common position condemn-
ing the Nazarenes for: (1) abuse of the Gospels, (2) disrespect of the
laws, (3) accepting criminals into their ranks, and (4) indifference and
enmity towards priests and other churches. They decided to petition the
Hungarian parliament and the Ministry of Religion and Education for
strict application of all laws and orders concerning the Nazarenes, espe-
cially in relation to the education of their children. However, the discus-
sion was more diverse than these common conclusions suggest, especially
if we look at the speech of the Lutheran priest Georg Schwalm from
Pančevo, who was later the author of many works on the Nazarenes.
Schwalm warned his colleagues about poor pastoral care, the widen-
ing gap between the clergy and the people, and the belligerent attitude
of some priests towards other denominations, especially sects. Instead,
Schwalm recommended: ‘Light up candles, let the sunshine in, let there
be more light in you and around you, so that night and darkness, even
the Nazarene one, will disappear without a trace’.13
István Fa, a Calvinist priest from Pančevo, also declared against perse-
cution of Nazarenes and supported freedom of conscience. On the other
hand, one Serbian priest, who later authored the report published about
the conference, asked for severe measures and gave the example of Srem,
which was under Croatian authority in matters of religion and education.
There, forced baptism was a common occurrence, and the local authori-
ties often dispersed Nazarene assemblies and arrested members. Soon
after this interconfessional conference, an anonymous Serbian priest from
the Vršac bishopric wrote against taking a common stand with priests of
other confessions and against the proposals that argued for interconfes-
sional clerical associations to equip priests with the necessary tools to
fight the Nazarenes. He claimed that nothing could be done without
order and support from the bishop.14 Furthermore, he criticised the fact
that a German Lutheran priest had presided over a conference initiated
110 B. Aleksov
by Serbian priests. As for the situation in Srem and other areas under
the Croatian local authorities, a lively polemic arose on the pages of the
Croatian Narodne novine and the Serbian Srbobran, both published in
Zagreb. The Croatian author condemned the extremely inimical Serbian
reaction to the Nazarenes: this infuriated the Serbian newspaper, which
deemed this accusation cynical.15
The painful truth was that the Croatian Catholics were generally more
resistant to conversion. That there were relatively few converts among
the Catholics shows that the Catholic Church in Hungary and Croatia,
as in the rest of the continent, was more successful in shielding their
faithful from the proselytism of other confessions and secular indifference.
The Catholic ‘devotional revolution’ that started in the middle of the
nineteenth century managed to maintain the Church as a focus of social
as well as religious identity, adopting an emotional, almost missionary
approach that was especially visible in the Marian cult, pilgrimages, and
the growth of new religious orders. So-called Ultramontane Catholicism
combined a highly dogmatic theology with an emotional piety and forms
of the older folk religion to create a range of institutions and outlets that
could relieve the faithful and dominate everyday life.16 A social focus was
maintained through a well-established Catholic school system and a net-
work of other organisations, not to mention the range of changes intro-
duced after the encyclical Rerum novarum in 1891.17 In Hungary too,
the Catholic Church succeeded in improving its political role and the
status of its clergy and bishops, which had been threatened by their pro-
Austrian stance during the Revolution of 1848: Marian apparitions, mass
pilgrimages, processions, rosary campaigns, and indulgences renewed
traditional piety.18
On the other hand, the reactions of Serbian priests hardly went
beyond advocating harsher measures against the converts and asking
for assistance from the state. At the first assembly of priests in Serbia
dedicated to the Nazarenes in 1890, Đoka Jovanović demanded that
the state expel them in order to prevent their proselytism.19 The inad-
equate response by the Serbian Church leadership to the spread of the
Nazarenes in its first decades might be compared to another affair that
undermined the Church at the same time. Archmandrite Vaso Pelagić
publicly rejected his monastic title in Zastava, the liberal journal of
the Hungarian Serbs, on 17 (29) April 1873, and became the most
famous dissenter and anticlerical activist in the country. The Serbian
Patriarch in Hungary, German Anđelić, banned all of Pelagić’s books,
while Metropolitan Mihailo of Belgrade conducted a protracted strug-

gle against Pelagić and finally had him incarcerated in an insane asylum
in 1893. Over 3000 people in Belgrade protested his incarceration,
demanding that the metropolitan himself be sent to the madhouse
instead.20 The metropolitan eventually defrocked Pelagić in the Belgrade
cathedral on 2 February 1895, where he was dragged by policemen: he
had his monastic robe first put on him and then ripped off while his hair
and beard were shaved in a manner that the liberal press compared to
the Inquisition.21 However, during the 30 years of his revolutionary life
and lengthy prison terms, Pelagić managed to publish scores of books
and pedagogic treatises aimed at the enlightenment of the masses, which
brought him undying fame as a teacher of the people.22 Although his
anticlericalist and socialist writings are tendentious, utopian, and theoret-
ically shallow, their popular style exerted a major influence on simple folk.
Only in the 1890s, did the protracted debates on anti-Nazarene
assemblies eventually result in a degree of self-criticism among the lower
clergy. Speaking at yet another priests’ assembly in Srem in 1899, Father
Aranicki described the poor religious state of the people, who wor-
shipped mechanically, rarely attended church services, and were ignorant
of the basic postulates of their faith. He blamed the priests for neglecting
their role, especially in performing church services, delivering sermons,
and interpreting the Gospels.23 Nevertheless, he excused them because
of their poor pay, which forced many to work on their plot of land in
order to feed their families. Without guaranteed pensions in their old age
or in the case of their deaths, their families were sentenced to famine.24
Furthermore, the practice of distributing parishes through competitions
and the unequal pay of priests were considered discriminatory. Last but
not least, Aranicki singled out the criticism of clergy in newspapers and
by Serbian political parties as destructive for their image. Milan Popadić
believed the cause for the spread of the Nazarenes lay in poor education,
especially the lack of compulsory religious education.25 He also condemned
disorderly priests for not preaching in churches and not holding regu-
lar services, which reduced churches to the state of being deaf or dumb.
However, the foremost reason according to Popadić was the abandonment
of confession before communion, which was an old Christian practice for
consoling suffering souls, establishing close ties between the faithful and
the clergy, and keeping the flock contained.26 Finally, Father Petrović,
a regular correspondent in the church press from Nadalj who had been
gravely affected by the conversion of his believers to Nazarenes, insisted
112 B. Aleksov
that paying regular parish dues in addition to fees for every religious service
(baptisms, weddings, funerals, etc.) was also an important reason for the
enmity the Serbs felt towards their Church and its priests: he proposed the
sale or use of church and communal land as a source of finance.27
While pronouncing certain criticisms of the clergy, the first wave of
reactions brought up at numerous priests’ assemblies and in tracts written
by priests remained overwhelmingly apologetic and mostly blamed oth-
ers for the massive conversion of Serbs to the Nazarenes. The most dis-
paraging terms were used to denounce the role of the intelligentsia, the
influence coming from the West, or the liberal laws adopted in Hungary
and Croatia. The intelligentsia, civil servants, and the press were all rep-
rimanded for alleged anticlericalism, stressing the detrimental influence
they had on the simple folk.28 The agrarian crisis was also high on the
agenda, but its nature and workings were not clearly articulated. The
general topoi were laments at the dissolution of extended families or cus-
tomary overspending. Idealising earlier times, contemporary social and
economic difficulties were rarely ever connected to the rising competition
brought about by a monetary economy, the industrialisation of agricul-
ture, and new means of production and investment. Modernity was thus
reduced to the vices coming from the West that were destroying a tradi-
tional Serbian idyll. Such a reductionist approach explains the inability of
the clergy to keep pace with the changes in society and react accordingly.
Exceptional was the enthusiasm about agricultural cooperatives, which
many believed could revive traditional agrarian society. Drawing on the
example of Serbia, where the great majority of Orthodox priests took an
active role in establishing cooperatives at the end of the nineteenth cen-
tury, some Serbian priests in Hungary demanded in vain similar initia-
tives and recommendations from their metropolitanate.29 The reason for
the different opinions about cooperatives among the clergy of the same
church lay in their different social positions. The only monetary income
of the poor and marginalised clergy in Serbia consisted of the emolu-
ments paid for rites like baptism and marriage. Neglected by both the
state and the church hierarchy, they shared a lot with the peasants and
joined them in their support for political forces which saw cooperatives
as a tool for preventing, or at least slowing down, the advent of mod-
ernisation.30 In Hungary, however, the inherited wealth of the Church
secured the well-being of most priests, whose economic and political
interests differed significantly from those of the peasants, hence the lack
of wider enthusiasm for setting up cooperatives.
Whatever their undertakings were, Serbian priests could hardly find

a common language with secular intellectuals. Concerning the reasons
and responsibility for the spread of the Nazarenes and the strategies to
prevent it, the church press, with Srpski Sion as its most representative
example, was in full-blown conflict with Zastava, Srbobran, Branik, and
other newspapers that were close to the Serbian Liberal Party and later
the Serbian Radical Party in Hungary. Insults and accusations filled the
columns of both newspapers, and church editors did not hesitate to
indulge in disputes and accusations.31 The editor of Srpski Sion, a mem-
ber of the upper echelons of the priestly hierarchy, also rejected the crit-
icism of clerical apathy voiced by the most vociferous adversary of the
Nazarenes among priests, the young and enthusiastic Father Dimitrijević.
Similar divisions existed in Serbia. The Belgrade newspaper Štampa, for
example, claimed that priests, because of the way they were, had the least
right to be angry about the expansion of the Nazarenes.32 Secular news-
papers usually paid no attention to the assemblies organised by priests to
debate the spread of the Nazarenes: when mentioned, they were criti-
cised for having no effect. The most far-reaching demand put forward
by priests on these assemblies was the need to establish an association of
priests, independent of the bishop’s authority, which could combat the
Nazarenes.33 The clergy claimed that without such an association and
collective rights, their hands were tied in the anti-Nazarene struggle and
they could not take any measures. Bishops constantly opposed such asso-
ciations as unnecessary and contradicting church canons and Orthodox
tradition, rightfully fearing that these actions were aimed at reducing
episcopal power. After laymen succeeded in gaining control over finances
and other non-confessional matters in the Serbian Church, this initiative,
concomitant with the Calvinist idea that the Church ought to be gov-
erned by ministers, threatened to remove the authority of the bishops
even in confessional matters.34
With the tremendous growth of the Nazarenes in the 1890s, the reac-
tions on behalf of the Serbian Church became more vehement. For out-
side observers, there was no doubt that the spiritual torpor or ‘sick state’
of their Church, as described by the journalist Himmel, was one of the
chief reasons for the vulnerability of the Orthodox to conversions by the
Nazarenes.35 In his Christmas message of 1893, the Serbian Patriarch
Georgije (Branković) for the first time appealed to all priests, intellectu-
als, newspapers, teachers, clerks, and ‘all sons of their Orthodox Church’
to use every occasion to combat the Nazarene ‘contagious disease’.
114 B. Aleksov
Party divisions, he proclaimed, should cease in the face of the epidemic

that threatened ‘to deny our name, seize our faith, poison our blood,
drink our soul and destroy our whole organism’.36 This appeal finally
proposed some concrete measures from the side of the Church. Priests
were singled out as the most responsible party and were asked to hold
sermons regularly, visit all parishioners, preach on every occasion, inten-
sify control of their parishes, and inform civil authorities of all possible
Nazarene agents or cases of proselytism. Priests were further asked to
write reports about converts in their parishes and detail their possible
reasons and motivations.
The enquiry into the motivations behind the Nazarene expan-
sion among Serbs was meant to aid the Church Synod in making
relevant decisions. In 1895, the Council of Serbian Schools in Austria-
Hungary, presided over by the Patriarch, ordered Serbian schools to
treat all Nazarene children as if they were baptised Orthodox. In case the
Nazarene children refused to make the sign of the cross or to pray with
other children, they were to be failed for that year.37
However, it was not all smooth sailing. In 1896, Jovan Vučković,
the rector of the seminary in Sremski Karlovci, officially demanded
that the seminary introduces a special course that would prepare future
priests to deal with the Nazarenes, tentatively entitled ‘polemic against
the Nazarenes’. Yet the Patriarch and the Synod of Bishops, who were
incharge of school programmes, responded bureaucratically and rejected
the proposals. They claimed that because the Nazarenes were not an offi-
cially recognised confession and did not have firmly established principles
of faith, any polemic against them would be meaningless.38
In the same year, the Serbian press was further galvanised by the news
that 108 formerly Orthodox Serbian families in the village of Bavanište
in Banat had registered their conversion to the Nazarenes with the
local authorities.39 Reports may have fuelled the panic by exaggerating
the numbers since no evidence was found for this claim. Yet the inten-
sified church response, especially among the higher and usually more
docile clergy, was prompted not by the decades-long growth of the
Nazarenes, but by the decision of Hungarian government to introduce
civil marriages, freedom of confession, and recognition of the Jewish
faith, which annulled almost all of the ancient privileges granted to the
Serbian Church. This loss of authority even in matters previously con-
sidered religious was the breaking point. Furthermore, the period of the
most numerous defections from the Orthodox Church at the turn of
the century coincided with the deepest crisis in the autonomous Serbian
Church, which was paralysed by the conflicts between the Radical Party
led by Jaša Tomić and the church hierarchy personified in the conserva-
tive Patriarch Georgije. Deeply entrenched in their positions, Serbian
clerical and secular intellectual elites were united only in their common
realisation that the conflict over autonomy was dragging down the whole
people, whose future in Austria-Hungary was seriously questioned.40 It
was during this period, described by the most prominent contemporary
Serbian poet Laza Kostić as the ‘steep descent’ of the Serbian people
that the Nazarenes were able to provoke far-reaching changes within the
Serbian Church whose effects can still be felt.41
Nazarene Influence
The most commendable influence of the Nazarenes was their introduc-
tion of Bible reading. Some of the clergy like Đorđe Mandrović, a par-
ish priest in Dolovo in Banat, or B. Kuzmanović shared this view from
early on and proposed the translation of liturgical books into the ver-
nacular.42 The Nazarene use of Bibles also motivated secular intellectuals
to reiterate their proposals for abandoning artificial Church Slavonic in
the Orthodox Church.43 The church hierarchy, which earlier disapproved
of the Bible translation by Karadžić and Daničić, eventually sped up its
own official translation.44 Furthermore, influenced by the Nazarenes,
some priests and intellectuals also asked for the introduction of choral
singing of all the faithful in church.45 Even though there was no official
approval, the traditional chanting was gradually standardised, simplified,
and popularised, with many popular religious songs slipping into the less
solemn parts of the liturgy.
The conversions to the Nazarenes also contributed to a greater aware-
ness in the church press of the need to tackle the new ideas that were
circulating. From the 1890s, they began to address on a regular basis
issues such as rationalism, atheism, religious indifference, agnosticism,
and Tolstoyism, which Jovan Vučković denounced and compared to
Nazarenism.46 Facing increasing competition on the confessional mar-
ket, the Church took steps to take over production of all votive items
such as icons in order to raise income and, more importantly, prevent
the spread of customs from other confessions.47 On the level of pasto-
ral care, the Nazarene ‘threat’ provided a key argument in the pro-
motion of Dimitrijević’s reform agenda, which emphasised the three
116 B. Aleksov
most important pastoral duties: preaching, catechism, and confession.

Condemning the way Serbian priests performed these duties, Aranicki
pointed out:
Take a look at the Roman Catholics and how they perform this rite,
how they rush to confession especially to their missionary–preachers.
Thus, it is no surprise that this Christian confession, though the most
numerous, has the least converts to Nazarenism. They serve the holy lit-
urgy in a foreign—Latin—language, but balance this with thorough cat-
echism and zealous preaching.48
In order to achieve this, Aranicki advocated raising the educa-
tional level of Serbian church school institutions and sending more
students to foreign theological institutions.49 A significant role in the
subsequent changes was indeed played by graduates of the German
language Orthodox Theological Faculty in Czernowitz in Bukovina,
where a unique opportunity opened up for Serbian students of the-
ology at the end of the nineteenth century.50 The Serbian Orthodox
seminary in Sremski Karlovci was also gradually reformed: the period
of study and the number of courses were extended and exam require-
ments increased.51 Furthermore, the agitation of Dimitrijević, Aranicki,
and others inevitably raised pastoral consciousness among their col-
leagues, but its real effects are hard to measure. Evidently, preaching
became more common, and priests were helped by the numerous books
containing sermons which began to appear. From 1894, the first book-
lets against the Nazarenes were distributed.52 Written in simple and eas-
ily understandable language, these pamphlets copied much from the
Nazarenes. They contained songs similar to those in the Nazarene hym-
nal Zion’s Harp, short stories, and even rather baroque illustrations of
important moments in the life of Christ. The messages of the poems
and stories aimed at Orthodox Serbs (and Romanians) were simple and
ranged from appeals to attend the Sunday liturgy and not work on the
Sabbath to reminding them of the Ten Commandments or the neces-
sity to hold regular fasts, an important Orthodox tradition that had been
largely abandoned by Serbs. Some poems written in traditional Serbian
epic decasyllables directly warned about the Nazarene danger, such as
one entitled A Warning to the Nazarenes.
From 1897, Srpski Sion, the official journal of Serbian Church in
Austria-Hungary, dedicated considerable space to the Nazarenes in every
issue.53 Looking to the experience of other churches in Europe, the
new generation of priests and church authors suggested using some of
the dissenters’ own weapons against them. Indefatigable in his struggle

against the Nazarenes, Dimitrijević, however, cautioned about establish-
ing any ‘societies’ or ‘brotherhoods’ among simple believers, fearing that
they could easily turn into collegia pietatis or ecclesiola (initiated by the
Pietist preacher Jacob Spener) and plant seeds for even more evil instead
of preventing the expansion of the Nazarenes.54 Instead, he proposed
adopting various measures practised by the Russian Church against the
Stundists. This meant the clergy should take on a more energetic and
even combative role, not only as priests but also as social organisers, set-
ting up social activities in order to mobilise their parishioners. In his anti-
Nazarene treatises, Dimitrijević gave practical advice to priests on how
to discuss and counteract Nazarene claims and Biblical interpretations
in those cases where only some members of families converted. He even
advised against ordering any work from Nazarene craftsmen or renting
land to Nazarene farmers.55 Similarly, Aranicki proposed special publica-
tions dedicated to exposing Nazarene errors in belief and cases of amoral
behaviour before and after conversion. In this effort, priests were asked
to obtain information from civil authorities.56 Dimitrijević demanded
the establishment of associations of priests on a regional level that would
regularly meet and coordinate their activities. Those who were especially
gifted should be elected as local missionaries to tour the region, hold lec-
tures, instruct other priests, report on the spread of the Nazarenes, and
establish its causes. For their endeavours, the most active priests should
be awarded prizes for the best sermons or essays against the Nazarenes.
Despite his clear insistence on the traditional ecclesiastical struc-
tures and functions of the Orthodox Church, Dimitrijević’s vehement
anti-Nazarene pamphlets, which stressed strict religiosity and morality
manifested in charity and good deeds, reflected features of Protestant
churches rather than his own.57 He did not lack words to describe what
he termed as the disgraceful religious life of his fellow Serbs—churches
were empty, services were unattractive, sextons were charlatans, and
churchwardens were drunkards. The life of the people outside churches
was even more upsetting since it was dominated by sexual blasphemy,
robbery, rapacity, and ruthlessness. Dimitrijević’s suggestions echoed
the milieu of Czernowitz University, where he had studied and encoun-
tered more educated and pious clergy, regular sermons and catechism, an
active pastoral role of the clergy, and massive rates of church attendance.
Nevertheless, the Orthodox Church in the monarchy for the first time
supported popular and cheap journals aimed at common and uneducated
118 B. Aleksov
people as part of the anti-Nazarene campaign.58 Other popular Serbian

religious magazines and booklets also showed that many in the Serbian
Church began to slowly adopt the strategies of their adversaries. One of
the most prominent authors of these booklets, Father Dera, used mor-
alistic Bible interpretations and the direct translation of German pietis-
tic works in order to stress the virtues of saving and mutual solidarity
in booklets such as Help Yourself and God Will Help You or The One
Who Works Has Everything but the One Who Saves Has Even More.59 He
adopted phrases from Benjamin Franklin, whose life and deeds served to
enlighten the simple folk. At the same time, the works of the Serbian
enlightener Dositej Obradović were also popularised. Priests asked the
hierarchy to provide funds for the free distribution of popular book-
lets and proposed that they be distributed in the way already employed
by the Bible society, which had been despised only a couple of decades
earlier when it first began its activities among the Orthodox Serbs.60
A Serbian church journal even published a translation of Education:
Biblical Principles of Christian Education written by Ellen G. White, one
of the founders of the Adventists.61 With a considerable delay and far
less fervour than in some other countries, Serbian clerics at the turn of
the century also began to propagate temperance societies and abstinence
from drinking, which was a very tangible, universally recognisable, and
widespread sin.62 In this campaign, drinking and inns were associated
with gambling and prostitution rather than a traditional lifestyle; this was
aimed at counteracting the Nazarene claim to moral superiority. Finally,
special books by authors close to the Church aimed at the enlightenment
of Serbian women appeared for the first time.
Another device was used by one of the most active parish priests,
Father Marković from Inđija, who wrote morality plays that sometimes
featured Nazarenes. He strove to apply these ideas to his everyday pas-
toral work. In an exemplary book on his parish, which set the standards
for preaching and writing for other Serbian priests, Marković identified
laziness, overspending on weddings and funerals, indebtedness, emigra-
tion, drunkenness, fashion, and litigation as the reasons for the impover-
ishment and backwardness of his parishioners.63 He suggested that only
strict adherence to traditional village life and attachment to the land and
landed property could save the people from evil, the sickening influence
of the city, and the slow extinction of the Serbian people. Fashion was
widely perceived and construed as an evil. According to Vesnik Srpske
Crkve, fashion embraced ‘spending on jewellery, silk, velvet, parasols,
hats, fans, corsets, fancy collars, creams, white and red make-up, spruc-
ing, beautifying as well as irrational, mindless and foolish spending on
weddings, parties, guests, funerals, commemorations, drinking in inns,
the so-called spite trials or processes over plot borders and all kinds of
other costly foolishness and nonsense’.64 Other booklets or moral-
ity plays criticised Serbian laziness, wastefulness, litigiousness, stealing
among family members, and most of all unrestrained drinking, even at
church fairs, which often ended up in brawls and even murders.
Though very detailed and persuasive, these descriptions of changes in
traditional behaviour did not make a clear connection with the vicissi-
tudes of a monetary economy, competition, and encounters with other
people, mainly Germans, the establishment of a judicial system, and the
emergence of industry and mechanised agriculture. Unable to detect the
true causes of distress in Serbian traditional society, Marković and many
who followed his lead could not offer appropriate solutions. In Stara
Pazova, where Aranicki served as an Orthodox parish priest, he com-
pared Serbs to Slovaks, praising the majority of Slovaks for being dili-
gent, thrifty, sober, rational people, and good entrepreneurs. The Serbs,
however, lacked solidarity, self-help, and economic cooperation, espe-
cially in terms of the agricultural cooperatives that Aranicki advocated.
He encouraged the development of cultural and educational institutions
and promoted modernisation in other spheres, such as the role women
played in the family.65 Unlike most of his colleagues, Aranicki was not
satisfied with rhetoric. On the contrary, he was a pioneer in establish-
ing a Serbian agrarian cooperative, a Serbian reading hall for craftsmen,
a Serbian gymnastic society, a charity association for Serbian women,
a Serbian choir, a funeral society, and a fire fighters’ society in his par-
ish. Earlier, we saw how Tomić, the leader of the Serbian Radical Party,
believed that a network of cooperatives, loan agencies, banks, and edu-
cational institutions would help build or maintain the Serbian Orthodox
faith and national consciousness against Magyarisation and the Nazarene
threat.66 He was naturally motivated by the spread of local credit soci-
eties or cooperatives, often organised on Raiffeisen principles, all over
Austria and to a lesser extent in Hungary.67 Yet wooden ploughs, illit-
eracy, and usury held redoubts in the more remote regions of the
south, where cooperatives designed to provide aid in the form of seed,
feed, education, and expertise were much needed. Although the hier-
archy never moved in this direction, many a priest eventually embraced
the idea and began establishing agricultural or craftsmen cooperatives.
120 B. Aleksov
Dimitrijević launched the appeal ‘Udružujmo se!’ (Join the associations!),

and even the conservative and clericalist press took an active role in the
campaign for the establishment of agricultural cooperatives.68 Aranicki
suggested that priests should not only take part but also lead the found-
ing and managing of agricultural cooperatives. In this way, the eco-
nomic benefits from the cooperatives could be extended to the moral
and religious sphere and become what Tomić described as ‘societies of
good people’. However, for Aranicki, their influence would help priests
to suppress the existing committees and assemblies of the autonomous
Serbian Church, which were dominated by members of anticlerical politi-
cal parties, mostly Tomić’s Radicals.69 It was only in the interwar period
that the Serbian clergy fully embraced the cooperative movement, pro-
moting it for economic as well as moral aims and asserting that it was
their task to foster the welfare of the people.70
Religious Movements Within the Orthodox Church

After almost 40 years of struggle against the Nazarene sect, some church
authors bitterly realised that studying and refuting its beliefs were use-
less. In a series of articles appearing in a church journal in 1902, Milutin
Jakšić claimed that the Church (i.e. its hierarchy and clergy) was to
blame for people embracing the new faith and that only deed, not empty
words, could alter this process.71 As it was clear that the Nazarenes were
a Protestant sect, Jakšić deduced that it had appeared for the same rea-
sons that had spurred the Reformation in the sixteenth century among
the faithful in the Catholic Church. More and more priests realised that
their acrimonious reactions against the Nazarenes were neither effec-
tive nor legitimate.72 At the same time, many priests abandoned their
attempts to persuade apostates to return to Orthodoxy since it became
evident that the Nazarenes were there to stay. One priest suggested that
the church seats the Nazarenes had leased for life prior to their conver-
sion should be (re)let.73 In this way, churches could earn more money
and people who had no seats could finally receive them. Such a pro-
posal would previously have been unthinkable and demonstrates that
the Orthodox clergy was getting accustomed to the presence of the
Nazarenes. Comparison with reactions to somewhat similar large reli-
gious movements in Orthodox Russia is instructive. Two great figures
in Russia of that period came to symbolise the polarity of the choices
facing Orthodox believers.74 Lev Tolstoi’s teachings represented a move
towards a private, non-mystical, anti-sacramental, and neo-Protestant

Christianity which clearly rejected the political order in Russia. Father
Ioann of Kronstadt, on the other hand, tried to revive Orthodoxy from
within, seeking a livelier, sacramental, and charitable Christianity that
would at the same time bolster the autocracy. His charisma and religious
fervour had much in common with other reactions of traditional religios-
ity when facing the challenges of modernisation.75 Father Ioann’s emo-
tional, personal, and supernatural forms of piety, previously discouraged,
eventually became widespread, thus surpassing their traditional small-
scale forms.
What followed among the Serbs, unrelated to any previous action
of the clergy, was a development very similar to the one already experi-
enced by the Catholic and Protestant churches: the spontaneous spread
of grassroots devotional movements which attempted to regulate the
lives and practices of their members according to more stringent rules.
At the same time as the Nazarenes steadfastly placed themselves out-
side the institutional ecclesiastical framework, a new evangelical move-
ment appeared within the Orthodox Church that was later known as the
Bogomoljci (God Worshipper) movement.76 The Bogomoljci developed
an independent life from the Church, but continued to consider them-
selves Orthodox. More than a century later, the Serbian Church tries to
disguise the real origins of the Bogomoljci movement in its official pub-
lications, claiming it was authentic and original.77 Yet Đoko Slijepčević,
the most meticulous Serbian church historian of the twentieth century,
noted long ago that the Nazarene way of life and attitude towards the
faith and the Church greatly contributed to this movement’s develop-
ment. It also attracted large numbers of Nazarenes, as will be discussed
below.78
The founder of the first Pobožni (Pious) group, as the initial informal
bands of the new religious movement were called, was Vitomir Maletin
(1826–1873), a pious peasant and church sexton in Padej in the Banat.
His mystical visions, which he described in two booklets, were widely
read and attracted a following among peasants in neighbouring villages.
He is also remembered for leading ‘disputes’ with Nazarenes, which
soon became famous among the simple folk.79 Soon, other groups under
names such as Bogomoljci and Evangelists appeared. Since there was no
coordination or common source, the customs of these groups varied
greatly. Their followers reportedly gathered around shrines, sources of
‘holy water’, and even in churches. They sang church hymns, read and
122 B. Aleksov
interpreted the Bible, and recited prayers that they had written them-
selves. Their outward appearance was very ascetic; they fasted often and
avoided drinking, smoking, and other vices.80 One priest gave a detailed
description of their everyday lives, which resembled those of the Nazarenes:
They do not ask for the doctor’s assistance in case of disease, nor do
they take any medicines. They cry during the service or over evil, but
they never cry over the dead, which they consider a sin since remaining
calm is a sign of hope and great faith.
They preach sexual chastity among marital partners and celibacy.
Many refrain from pork, others from meat in general, and some fast
(without any animal products) constantly.
They are very modest, and do not follow any fashion, nor do the
women use any cosmetics. Women cover their heads in the Church.
Some even come barefoot.
They never participate in feasts. None of them smoke or drink.
Out of love for Holy Scripture, all of them learn to read and write.81
Another priest reported on the special role of the preacher, who had
the right to conduct prayer services as a respected leader whom others
listened to and obeyed: again, this is very similar to the Nazarene elder.
Sometimes supernatural features were attributed to him, such as the abil-
ity to enter someone’s soul and see his or her sins, which they could use
to force people to confess sins they did not commit. Often the preacher
called upon God as his authority in conducting prayers and preaching.
The author of these observations located the origins of this religious
movement in the Banat because of their proximity to the Nazarenes. He
also stressed that they shared brochures with religious content, mostly
about the transcendental experiences.82 Other early reactions to the
Bogomoljci also shared similar features with those of the Nazarenes.
They were described as sinners or petty criminals who, after experiencing
inner conversion, joined such groups to repent for their sins. At the turn
of the century, based on several reports from Western Banat and Bačka,
Dimitirijević excoriated the Bogomoljci.83 While admitting that the
Bogomoljci radiated the strongest criticism of the religious and moral
neglect of the Serbian Church and people, Dimitrijević warned that they
might soon follow on the Nazarene path and fall into sectarianism. The
greater danger lay in the fact that the Bogomoljci interpreted the Bible
and tried to establish a set of moral norms apart from the Church, which
for Dimitrijević should have a monopoly in both.84
Some however were more reluctant to condemn or dismiss the
Bogomoljci. One village priest praised them for showing great respect for
the Church, even though they practised some novel customs. In addi-
tion to respect, they were very hardworking, sober, thrifty, and exem-
plary in their behaviour. In his village, all 40 members of the agricultural
cooperative were Bogomoljci.85 Another priest warned that the exag-
gerated piety of Bogomoljci might eventually lead to their abandoning
Orthodoxy and, more importantly, Serbdom.86 Their excessive religi-
osity, emotionality, and pilgrimages were harmful, incited laziness, and
smacked of Catholicism. Instead of the Gospels, this highly ranked priest
suggested that the Bogomoljci should read Privrednik (The Economist)
and instead of The Lives of Saints they should read The Lives of Great
Serbs. These works would better equip them for cultural and economic
competition, which, according to him, was what the twentieth century
was all about. Explaining the appearance of the new religious movement,
Jovan Vučković explained how the Serbian Church historically developed
a defensive mentality, which thwarted its development in many aspects.
Furthermore, the religious indifferentism of the intelligentsia brought
about by the Enlightenment was, for Vučković, one of the chief reasons
for the spread of Nazarenism, which in a few years had caused more
damage to the Serbian Church than the centuries of state repression
and Roman Catholicism in the Habsburg Monarchy.87 In short, Serbian
elites showed no interest in defending Orthodoxy and reacted only when
they realised the danger of the Nazarenes for Serbdom. Eventually, they
became conscious about the need to deal with religious movements
among the people carefully and tactfully, which is exactly what Vučković
advised in the case of the Bogomoljci. If there was no reaction from the
church leadership, the clergy itself should get to know the new move-
ment better and take steps in order to put it back on official tracks.
Condemning the radical rejection of Bogomoljci, Vučković used the
experiences of Russian and German priests to show that the best way for
priests to deal with the lay religious movement was to join it.88
Eventually, it was the charismatic Bishop Nikolaj Velimirović, the most
extraordinary personality of the Serbian Church in the twentieth century,
who managed to bring the movement back to more acceptable chan-
nels of expression.89 Bishop Nikolaj symbolises the tendency of clerical
thought at the beginning of the century which argued that the Church
needed to purify the stagnant atmosphere of the nation and devote her-
self to the apostolic mission of the re-Orthodoxisation of the people.90
Having studied in the West, the young Velimirović returned to Serbia
in 1909 and became the staunchest advocate of this religious revival.91
Jaša Tomić, whom we met earlier as the most radical critic of the Serbian
124 B. Aleksov
Church and the author of several books on the Nazarenes, found that
his complete disappointment with the Serbian Church lessened after
meeting Velimirović in 1912 during the First Balkan War.92 At the same
time, Jovan Cvijić, the most famous Serbian scholar of the period, also
expressed his belief that the appearance of a personality like Velimirović
showed that the Serbian Church was finally on the road to fully engaging
in its holy and national tasks.93 Velimirović spoke of a Christianity that
was alive and changing: some of its outer forms should be changed in
order to preserve its essence. Furthermore, the future celebrated bishop
insisted that Christianity and Serbian nationalism were on the same path:
‘If I am for Christ, then I have to help my oppressed people liberate
themselves’.94 Accordingly, Velimirović condemned Nazarene passivity
and forbearance, claiming that true Christianity should not accept evil.
He also renounced Tolstoi, who praised the patience and endurance of
the Nazarenes.
There could be no greater challenge and appeal for the revival of faith
than the First World War. The aftermath of the Great War, in which
Serbs from both Serbia and the former Austro-Hungarian Empire expe-
rienced a demographic and material catastrophe, saw the unprecedented
rise of religious frenzy, mysticism, spiritualism, and sectarianism. One of
the leaders of the Bogomoljci, Dragoljub Milivojević (the future Bishop
Dionisije), confessed that in his youth he had also belonged to a mille-
narian sect and only later embraced true Orthodoxy.95 People joined new
religious groups in their thousands, and their numbers would have been
even higher if the priests had not forbidden people from contacting itin-
erant preachers.96 In these circumstances, when the official ranks knew
of no other means to deal with such religious outpouring than bans and
anathemas, Bishop Velimirović raised his voice against this practice in
the appeal entitled Ne odbacujte ih (Do not reject them).97 Clearly dis-
tinguishing them from the Nazarenes, he stressed the spontaneity and
originality of the Bogomoljci, pleading that they be understood and cor-
rected if necessary so that they would not turn against the Church and
join sects. In his message to parish priests, Velimirović insisted: ‘Try to
understand the Bogomoljci. Refrain from throwing stones at them, you
might easily hit Christ himself. Do not reject them so that they do not
reject you’.98
With the support and advice of Velimirović, various groups of
Bogomoljci began from 1920 to organise into a single association with
its headquarters in Kragujevac: this would provide theological training,
missionary preparation, and official recognition for preachers.99 The

headquarters were also incharge of printing booklets, sermons, and regu-
lar journals: several million examplars of such publications were printed
in the interwar period. Officially, there were 500 ‘brotherhoods’ or local
branches with at least 100,000 members in former southern Hungary,
now known as Vojvodina, as well as in Serbia and north-eastern Bosnia.
The newly organised movement exhibited a kind of evangelical pietism,
emphasising both personal religious experience and corporate activity:
they deployed typically Protestant tools of church life, including mis-
sion conferences, special programmes for women, revival meetings, emo-
tional singing, and a widespread use of the printed word for religious
purposes.100 The Bogomoljci also owed their use of the vernacular, col-
lective singing and many other aspects of their piety to the Nazarenes.
This was welcomed by some priests who opposed long services in archaic
Church Slavonic and praised the regular attendance of services and col-
lective singing practised by the Bogomoljci.101 Yet, despite this centrali-
sation and the efforts of Bishop Velimirović, some Nazarene hymns crept
into the songbooks published by the Bogomoljci movement.102 Some
Bogomoljci villagers continued to subscribe to the fatalism and supersti-
tion of folk religion as well as to the influence of Protestant sects. Their
religion was indeed different from that of the Nazarenes, but was simi-
larly revivalist, popular, and against the official one. The common thread
was the pietist insistence that religious dogmas should shape not only the
mind but also the heart, emotions, and morality. Despite Velimirović’s
involvement, many other bishops remained embarrassed by their exces-
sive enthusiasm, spiritual indiscipline, and visions: they also remained
mistrustful of their self-organisation.103 Thus, the majority of the Serbian
clergy and bishops insisted on the strict organisation of the Bogomoljci
and their submission to existing ecclesiastical units, demanding that the
movement be cleansed of all its unorthodox, anti-Church elements, espe-
cially those inherited or embraced from the Nazarenes and Adventists.104
The greatest achievement of Velimirović was to incite enthusiasm
among the Bogomoljci for monasticism, which experienced an upsurge
in the interwar period, especially with the revival of the religious voca-
tion among women, which had died out during the Ottoman period.105
Besides a religious agenda, Velimirović also had a very clear political plan
for the Bogomoljci that has not yet been researched. A cursory read-
ing of his speeches reveals how he made use of Bogomoljci religious
fervour to express their dissent against a secular society in which social
126 B. Aleksov
disabilities were constantly growing.106 Most remarkable, however, was

Velimirović’s introduction of nationalism to thousands of peasants, who
frequently congregated at Bogomoljci open-air meetings around the
great monasteries to seek religious solace. A mass lay religious movement
like the Bogomoljci provided the final argument in the development of
the populist nationalism branded as Svetosavlje, whereby the nation is
identified with religion: this crystallised in the interwar period.107
Conclusion
The Nazarenes attracted many Orthodox Serbs to their ranks at a time
when their elites and their Church were deeply divided and challenged
by their increasing marginalisation caused by the Magyarisation policies
of the Hungarian government and the general effects of modernisation.
The Karlovci metropolitanate, fossilised and corrupted by its relation
with the state, could not respond to the intense religious feelings and
practices of the Nazarenes or offer the required moral and religious sol-
ace. It took several decades until the lower clergy began to reach out to
the poor and deprived, addressing their needs by using the experience
and methods of Protestant churches or the sister Russian Orthodox
Church, which had undergone similar challenges some decades earlier.
The most remarkable was the reaction on the grassroots level, espe-
cially among the peasants, who began to form religious groups in great
numbers. These groups, later called the Bogomoljci, used a common
language and practised customs with which the common people could
identify. Soon they evolved into a very strong social network with accom-
panying codes of behaviour and socialisation. Adopting the ecclesiasti-
cal and pastoral solutions of other churches and channelling a grassroots
religious movement into its own ranks, the Serbian Church also gradu-
ally transformed, despite its clear reluctance to reach an accommodation
with modernity.
Notes
1. For more on the Nazarenes’ origin, beliefs, and expansion, see Eotvos
(1997), Ruegger (1948), Klopfenstein (1984), Adler (1976), Ott (1996),
Brock (1980, pp. 53–63; 1983, pp. 64–72; 1991, pp. 59–71).
2. Aleksov (2006).
3. Grbanović (1872, pp. 279–284).

4. Javor (1882), Glas Istine (1887–1889).
5. Archive of the Karlovci Metropolitante—AMK, Fond A, 1881, 108.
6. AMK, Fond A 1882, 167.
7. AMK, Fond A 1886, 538.
8. Tešić (1885/15, pp. 113–115), Nikolić (1901/33, pp. 559–561;
1913/6–7, pp. 625–627), Kojić (1905/6, pp. 559–564).
9. Compare this to the similar descriptions of the poor state of faith and
morality written in North America more than a century earlier and col-
lected in Bumsted (1970, pp. 17–19).
10. Vesnik srpske crkve (1913, p. 641).
11. Vučković (1886, p. 153).
12. Long report by Dušan Radulović, the minute taker of the assembly,
‘O Nazarenstvu’, Hrišćanski vesnik, X/1–4 (1888). There were 14
Serbian Orthodox priests, six Lutheran, two Calvinist, and one Catholic
in attendance: they were all from South Banat.
13. Ibid., 43.
14. Glas istine (1887, pp. 306–308).
15. The debate is referred to in Maksim Vujić, ‘Prikaz “Nazarenstvo, nje-
gova istorija i suština”’, Srpski Sion, 9 (1895, p. 139) and Vladimir
Dimitrijević, ‘Obred pri krštenju i još neki drugi običaji Nazarenski ’,
Srpski Sion, 48, 1894, p. 754. The Croatian author stressed the good
intentions and piety of Nazarenes while Dimitrijević, the chief Serbian
polemicist, insisted they were a ‘pest on the people’s body’.
16. McLeod (1995, pp. 47–53).
17. For Catholic social policy in the nineteenth century, see Altgeld (1992)
and Poggi (1967).
18. See Freifeld (2000, pp. 138–142 and pp. 265–266).
19. Report in Vesnik Srpske crkve, 1890, pp. 740–743; Simlar was in Srem:
see Šimić (1895, pp. 121–122), Srpski Sion (1894, pp. 248–24).
20. Besarović (1969, pp. 180–181), Mićanović (1971).
21. Besarović (1969, pp. 142–155) and Veselinović (1894, pp. 509–535),
which is the church apology for the act: it was also published as a sepa-
rate booklet.
22. V. Pelagić, Narodni učitelj [Teacher of the people] was, from 1879 until
1894, published in four editions in a circulation of 18,000, while all his
other books and booklets reached a circulation of 212,000 before his
death, which made him probably the most widely read Serbian writer.
See Besarović (1969, p. 190).
23. Aranicki (1900, p. 401).
24. Ibid., p. 402.
128 B. Aleksov
25. Popadić, 10, (1900, pp. 156–159).

26. Popadić, 11, (1900, pp. 177–180). As already stressed, there is no his-
torical evidence that confession was indeed practised by the Orthodox
Serbs or what it looked like and what effect it had.
27. Petrović, 5, (1906, p. 145).
28. Popadić, 13, (1900, pp. 206–209).
29. Ibid., 241.
30. Inspired by Russian narodniki, the supporters of the Radical Party in
Serbia fiercely opposed state bureaucracy and industrialisation, advocat-
ing instead local autonomy and agricultural cooperatives.
31. Srpski Sion, 40, (1901, p. 676), or the polemic against Zastava in Srpski
Sion, 6, 1906, p. 186.
32. Štampa, 68, 1905, quoted in Vesnik srpske crkve, 3, 1905, p. 368.
33. Popadić, 15, (1900, p. 240).
34. For similar debates in Greece at that time, see Frazee (1987,
pp. 185–187).
35. Himmel (1897, pp. 2–3).
36. Jeremić, 6, (1894, pp. 83–85).
37. ‘Odluka Srpskog pravoslavnog narodnog Školskog Saveta u pogledu
postupka sa decom nazarenskih roditelja u pravoslavnoj crkvi krštenoj,
koja srpsku veroispovednu školu pohađaju’ [Decision of the Serbian
Orthodox National School Council concerning the children of the
Nazarene parents who are baptised as Orthodox and attend Serbian
schools], Srpski Sion, 21, (1896, p. 341). At the same time, the
Romanian Metropolitan Miron Roman also personally engaged in the
struggle against the Nazarenes and ordered all Romanian parish priests
to investigate the possible reasons for people falling into apostasy
and becoming Nazarenes so that he could take appropriate measures.
Dimitrijević (1894a, b, p. 82).
38. AMK, FA 347/1897.
39. Dimitrijević, 18, (1897, pp. 290–291).
40. All autonomous prerogatives were indeed abolished by the Hungarian
government on 11 July 1912.
41. Kostić (1902, pp. 5–6).
42. A. Pavlović summarised their grievances in Odbrana pravoslavne crkve
(Veliki Bečkerek 1874).
43. J. V. ‘Nazarenstvo i slovenski jezik u crkvi’ in Glas istine, III/5, (1886),
is a response to a series of articles appearing on that topic in the Serbian
Radical Party journal Zastava.
44. It took almost a full century before the Church finally accepted the
vernacular in the liturgy. For similar developments in Greece, see
Roudometof (1998, pp. 429–468), here p. 433.
45. Boberić (1897, p. 149).

46. See Vučković, 19, (1892), but also Bogdanović, 20, (1894), Jablanović,
38, (1893), and Srpski sion, 22, 1898.
47. See Dositej, 20, (1894).
48. Aranicki, 27, (1900, p. 432).
49. Ibid., 451.
50. While Romanians and Ruthenians made up the overwhelming major-
ity of students in Czernowitz, the number of Serbian students grew
significantly from the turn of the century. See Turczynski (1967, pp.
166–195). In Czernowitz, the Orthodox students were imbued with
the spirit of the best German universities, where their professors had
received their education. Later the graduates carried on this spirit in
their pastoral work, though not without resistance. See Dimitrijević, 43,
(1893, pp. 683–685).
51. Even physical education was introduced for seminarians. Interestingly
enough, among the new courses introduced in Karlovci Seminary was
bee-keeping, an agricultural sector to which the Serbian Church dedi-
cated a lot of attention.
52. Pobožnom narodu o veri. Da se kloni od neverni nazarena i varalica
(1894).
53. It published in sequences articles by J. Stanikić, ‘O nazarenima i njiho-
vom učenju’ and S. Aranicki, ‘O uzrocima širenju nazarenstva i o sredst-
vima protiv Istoga’.
54. Dimitrijević, 13, (1902, pp. 206–208).
55. Dimitrijević (1894a, b, pp. 204–221). For more on Stundists and the
response of the Russian Church, see Coleman (2005).
56. Aranicki, X/28, (1900, p. 450).
57. Dimitrijević (1903, pp. 17–29).
58. For example in the journal Pravoslavlje. Its authors were prominent in
other efforts discussed here.
59. Đera (1886) and (1894).
60. Popadić, 15, (1900, p. 241).
61. B. Bjelajac, ‘Protestantism in Serbia’, p. 195. The Serbian translation first
appeared in sequences in the journal Bogoslovski glasnik and later as a
book.
62. The campaign against drinking was developed on models adopted from
other churches and the extant secular temperance literature. One promi-
nent author of booklets promoting abstinence was Vladimir Milutinović,
see Grujić (1993, p. 140).
63. Marković (1901, pp. 26–35). His example was followed by other
priests, who reported in special booklets on their villages and their pas-
toral efforts: these include Dobrivoje Nikolić in Srpski Krstur, Vitomir
130 B. Aleksov
Teofanović in Čurug, Jovan Kozobarić in Ilok, and Simeon Aranicki

in Stara Pazova. See Vujić (1902) and Nikolić (1909). Buta (1906) is
of the same style, although it describes an imaginary, but supposedly
typical, village.
64. N. a. (1905, pp. 289–292), here p. 280.
65. Aranicki, Pravoslavna srpska parohija u Staroj Pazovi krajem 1911.
godine.
66. Rakić (1986, p. 242).
67. On the eve of the First World War, there were no fewer than 8356 of
these in Austria and over 3000 in Hungary. See Okey (2001, p. 243).
The first Serbian agricultural cooperative in Croatia was founded only in
1897.
68. Dimitrijević published the article under this title in the journal for peas-
ants Njive 2 and elaborated further in his Zašto se kod nas nazarenstvo
širi, p. 140. See also: Srpski Sion (1901, p. 709).
69. Aranicki, X/29, (1900, p. 468).
70. Milošević (1940, pp. 136–138).
71. See Jakšić (1902, I–II).
72. See Sutvarskii, ‘Riječ k pitanju: Je li dobro i korisno pisati o nazarenima
i raspravljati njihovo učenje?’ and Stanikić, Hrišćanski vesnik, (1902,
XIX/1).
73. K., III/10, (1907, p. 159).
74. Kizenko (2000, p. 283).
75. Ibid., p. 285.
76. Bogomoljci (Bogomolytsy) has been variously translated into English as
God-worshippers, God-prayers, and Devotionalists.
77. See the Bogomoljci movement in Šabac-Valjevo eparchy, http://www.
rastko.org.yu/svecovek/zajednice/index.html.
78. See Slijepčević (1943).
79. Beleslijin (1904, pp. 278–289), believed the founder was originally from
Bečej in Bačka.
80. Grujić (1993, p. 134 and 206).
81. Tufegdžić (1922, pp. 323–326).
82. Marinković (1922, pp. 29–40). Besides the Holy Scriptures, they used
Poslanica s neba, Knjiga Sv. Oca Ilije, Čudotvorna sila Sv. Sisoja.
some apocryphs such as San Prevete Matere Božje, Mati Božja u paklu,
83. Dimitrijević, Pobožni, 4.
84. Ibid., 29.
85. Quoted in Vučković (1903: 29).
86. Quoted in ibid., 31.
87. Ibid., 24.
88. Ibid., 40.
89. Subotić (1996), is the only study of the Bogomoljci movement and the
role of Bishop Nikolaj. However, despite a large quantity of archival and
other evidence to the contrary, the author portrays the Bogomoljci as
true Orthodox believers who revived Saint savaian Orthodoxy against
the passivity of the Serbian Church and people.
90. This was the view of the director of the seminary in Belgrade: it was made
for available for an English readership in Veselinovitch (1909, p. 156).
91. Before the First World War, Velimirović was a charismatic preacher and
the author of countless books and booklets on almost all topics. A
bishop and prominent political figure in the interwar period, Velimirović
was literally banned in post-war Yugoslavia because of his conservative
and nationalist stance and associations with right-wing political forces.
In the 1990s, he was celebrated as Serbia’s greatest churchman and
finally canonised in 2002. For more on Bishop’s Nikolaj Velimirović’s
views and the controversies they caused, see Grill (1993), Bremer
(1992, pp. 112–160), and Byford (2008).
92. Tomić (1913, pp. 54–65).
93. Jovan Cvijić in the introduction to Ivan Kosančić, Novo-pazarski
Sandžak i i njegov etnički problem, quoted in ‘Jedno mišljenje o stanju
naše crkve’,Vesnik srpske crkve, 1(1912): 89.
94. Tomić (1913, p. 60).
95. Milivojević (1930, pp. 7–8).
96. Marinković (1922, pp. 29–40).
97. Episkop Nikolaj (1922, pp. 47–50).
98. Ibid., 50.
99. Anđelković (1922, pp. 53–56).
100. See the report on one of the movement’s strongholds in Bačka in Rev.
Teofanović (1925, pp. 382–384).
101. Teofanović (1926, pp. 69–70).
102. Their first collections of pious songs included Nazarene hymns translated
by Zmaj and Rajković, a fact that could not pass unnoticed by the old
Nazarene foe, Vladimir Dimitrijević. Dimitrijević (1926, pp. 319–327).
103. Channeling and formalising Bogomoljci piety was the favourite topic of
the interwar Church press: for example, see Petrović (1925, p. 108),
Vidaković (1922, pp. 387–395), Damaskin (1925, pp. 543–549),
Dimitrijević (1926, pp. 370–398). The proposals ranged from organising
Bogomoljci pilgrimages to Mount Athos to incorporating them in extant
brotherhoods of Saint Sava or recruiting monks from among them.
104. In 1922, the Synod of the SOC issued order 1124 to all priests to inves-
tigate the Bogomoljci movement and report to bishops on its develop-
ment and, especially any instances of incorrect beliefs. Interesting reports
from Bačka diocese are to be found in AV, Fond 405, box 3. For other
132 B. Aleksov
responses, see Živanović (1923, p. 79), Jovanović (1934), Svetosavlje,

V/2, (1936), Osnovna pravila i uredba Narodne Hrišćanske Zajednice
(1938), Kragujevac: Narodna Hrišćanska Zajednica.
105. There is no study of the Bogomoljci origins of many Serbian monks and
bishops in the twentieth century. For the revival of female monasticism,
see Prokschi (1996).
106. His speeches on Bogomoljci meetings are published in Subotić, Episkop
Nikolaj i Pravoslavni bogomoljački pokret.
107. See Buchenau (2006, pp. 203–232), Falina (2007, pp. 505–527).
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Srpski Sion 9: 139.
CHAPTER 8
The God Worshipper Movement in Serbian

Society in the Twentieth Century:
Emergence, Development, and Structures
Radmila Radić and Aleksandra Djurić Milovanović
State sources relating to the God Worshipper movement have not been
preserved and ecclesiastical sources are still unavailable, although some
authors from Serbian Orthodox Church (SOC) circles have used them
in their works.1 Research is possible only by relying on the press that
the movement itself issued during the interwar period and on texts by
various authors who analysed the phenomenon at the beginning of the
twentieth century.2
The chapter was written within the projects: Tradition and Transformation:
Historical Heritage and National Identity in Serbia in the 20th Century
(MESTD—III 47019) and Danube and Balkan: Cultural and Historical
Heritage (MESTD—OI 177006).
R. Radić (*) 
Institute for Recent History of Serbia, Belgrade, Serbia
A.D. Milovanović 
Institute for Balkan Studies SASA, Belgrade, Serbia

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_8
138 R. RADIĆ AND A.D. MILOVANOVIĆ
The Emergence and Expansion

of the God Worshipper Movement
Bishop Nikolaj Velimirović related the emergence of the God Worshipper

movement (bogomoljci) to the experience of the Balkan wars and the First
World War.3 In recent times, some researchers have stressed that it was
a distinctively Serbian phenomenon. A few have discerned Russian ori-
gins, pointing out that ‘in the theological sense it is the influence of the
Slavophile ideas’.4 However, most authors who have written about the
advent of the God Worshipper movement have placed it in the context of
the different sects that existed in the Austro-Hungarian Empire and the
territory of the metropolitanate of Karlovci throughout the second half
of the nineteenth century.
The emergence of the God Worshipper movement can be divided into
two periods: before 1919 and thereafter. Throughout the first phase,
there was no unifying organisation, common name, or a distinct orien-
tation. Stevan Dimitrijević wrote that neither the origin nor the charac-
teristics of the phenomenon can be considered uniform, as the time and
place of origin and the main focus of all the groups that later became
known as God Worshippers differed. After the wars of 1876–1878, peo-
ple who spent their time excavating the foundations of old churches
appeared in the south-eastern parts of Serbia. They were called crkvari.5
Dionisije Milivojević, one of the key figures of the movement, believed
that the origin of the God Worshippers should be sought in this excava-
tion of old churches.6 In the 1920s, he, like his contemporaries, men-
tioned that prior to the First World War a movement known as the ‘good
people’ existed; after this, there emerged ‘Spiritualists, religious people
who had nothing to do with spiritualism’ near Kragujevac. In 1918, indi-
viduals from these groups merged and formed fraternities.7
The priest Živan Marinković considered the cradle of the God
Worshipper movement to be in the Banat, from whence they transferred
to Mačva, Serbia.8 Dj. Bota, a priest from Jarkovec (the Banat), wrote in
1922 that the movement of the ‘pious’ had existed for 20 years near his
location. He believed ‘they were the same as “God Worshippers”, the
movement which arose after the end of World War I’. Bota added:
They said they wanted to improve and be better, to go along the right
path, as they could not watch and listen to the disorder and talking
in church. They wanted to improve themselves in terms of order and
8 THE GOD WORSHIPPER MOVEMENT IN SERBIAN SOCIETY … 139
devotion, to wash away sins, to move in the right direction, to stand still in
the church and to listen to God’s service with understanding, and to serve
others as a beautiful example and become like their ancestors, once true
and devout Christians.
He further mentioned that they had preachers and organised pilgrimage

trips to monasteries.9 God Worshippers in the Banat visited monasteries,
believing that paying visits to local sacred places could replace pilgrimage
to the Holy Land. Some of them walked barefoot to monasteries, which
they considered a small pilgrimage. Hand washing replaced washing and
bathing in the River Jordan.
Jovan Vučković testified in 1903 that ‘for several years a certain move-
ment… christened with the name “the pious people”, God Worshippers,
Evangelists…has been developing in parts of metropolitanate among the
peasants…’ They gathered in villages on Sunday afternoons, chanted
the canons, and read the Gospels, the Lives of the Saints, and prayers.
Most of these people lived in the Banat and Bosnia. He described them
as hard-working, thrifty, and faithful people who took communion and
confessed their sins. However, Vučković expressed concern that if the
God Worshippers ‘overstated religious practice, they could disengage
from the Orthodox Church, and become something they did not want,
a sect for which Orthodoxy would be something long gone. Thus weak-
ened in Orthodoxy, they could become indifferent to Serbian nationality
itself’. He noted that God Worshippers’ visits to church without priestly
supervision were extremely close to Roman Catholic practices. Their
interpretation of the Scripture represented a sin against the Church:
while the Church allowed reading of the Bible, it reserved the right to
interpret it for priests.10
Jaša Tomić in his book The Nazarenes mentioned groups of ‘good
people’ which emerged as a response to the spread of the Nazarenes.11
In a critique of Tomić’s book, Vikentije Fruškogorac wrote:
Mistaken is anyone who believes that such an ‘association of good peo-

ple’ could suffocate and kill the Nazarenes… ‘the association of good
people’ is an imitation of Nazarene social life, and if we are to look to
Nazarene social institutions, our efforts would be counterproductive: it
would raise their esteem. Moreover, this would result in more comedy:
goodness knows what complications it would generate. This ‘association
of good people’ resembles the ‘collegio pietatis’ of John Spener, the father
of German Pietism, the forefather of our Nazarenes: to a certain extent it
resembles the German-Protestant Churches-within-a-Church (ecclesiolae in

ecclesia)—a nest of mysticism, quietism, separatism, paroxysm!12
Vasa Stajić, another critic of Tomić, stated that the expansion of the
Nazarenes had resulted in communal collapse, the emergence of nuclear
families, class stratification, the economic decline of villages, and a grow-
ing gulf between the rich and poor. Stajić believed that economic col-
lapse had been caused by the breakdown of morality. He wrote that this
situation could be rectified only through a political struggle, not by a
change in religion. For him, an escape into a ‘patriarchal idyll’ was the
wrong solution in the face of social modernisation.13
Tomas Bremer has introduced the hypothesis that the emergence of
God Worshippers was a response to the Nazarene sect, which was strong
in Hungary. While the Serbian Church and society led an energetic bat-
tle against the Nazarenes (a sect with Baptist origins), it had a luke-
warm relationship with the God Worshippers.14 An article from Policijski
glasnik (Police Gazette) gives evidence about the attitude towards the
Nazarenes in Serbian society during the second half of the nineteenth
century. In 1898, it warned:
In Belgrade, there are a lot of religious sects about which nothing is known.
To the detriment of the Orthodox faith, which, with the courage of the
Serbs, held Serbia through so many centuries, there are a lot of Nazarenes
and new God Worshippers in the Serbian capital and in Serbia; there are
several religious societies, and the authorities not only do not know their
members but do not even know that such societies exist. What is still worse,
the members of such societies are mostly foreigners and foreign subjects. It
is not necessary to say to what extent this can be dangerous for the coun-
try in which they exist… These foreign sects have political roles here in the
East. Such a religious society is a reliable assistant to consulates and embas-
sies… Every member is simultaneously the organ of consuls or deputies.15
At first, the God Worshipper movement provoked ambivalence. Some

Church representatives criticised and rejected them; most commonly, it
was suspected of separating from the Church (sectarianism). In addition,
the God Worshippers required that priests be more involved and provide
a sermon at every liturgical ceremony, which provoked some hostility
among the clergy.16 However, other Church representatives were ready
to accept them. On 28 March 1918, Metropolitan Dimitrije reported to
the Supreme Command of the Serbian Army that he had first received
information about the emergence of God Worshippers back during the

Balkan wars. Priests reported ‘that in the homes of some hosts, relatives
and friends gathered to read the Holy Scripture, in particular the New
Testament, and enacted rules for Christian life based on what they read’.
The main centres, said the metropolitan, were Belgrade, Mačva, Pirot,
Aranđelovac, Aleksinac, Sokobanja, Obrenovac, and other smaller places.
Members of these religious groups read the Holy Scripture and adhered
to certain religious regulations (fasting, going regularly to church,
rejecting lying, stealing, and swearing, and helping the poor and pow-
erless). They called each other brothers, ‘and groups were called God
Worshippers’. The metropolitan believed that both the Church and the
state could benefit from these people. However, he added, among them
there were various cheaters ‘who even wrote books on the holy things of
faith, in which instead of true religion they taught people many supersti-
tions’. The metropolitan drew attention to the Nazarenes as the most
fanatical agitators.17
The God Worshipper movement expanded rapidly. For example,
according to the sources, Radovan Tadić from Palanka began to propa-
gate ideas and spread booklets in Lapovo in 1910; only two years later,
there were 100 God Worshippers.18 Today, circles within the SOC have
adopted Bishop Nikolaj Velimirović’s attitude that the God Worshippers
represented ‘a movement of simple peasants’ which was approached by
those unable to perceive any defection from the faith, and who decided
in the name of God to lead ‘a serious struggle with the sinful life’ and
call for repentance.19 According to its members, it was a movement
based on the personal spiritual experiences of individuals who lived
through wars, crises of faith, modernity, materialism, liberalism, social-
ism, and other ‘modern innovations’.20 The question of the movement’s
origin and impact remains open: however, it is safe to conclude that the
movement emerged spontaneously without stimulation, inspiration, or
support from the hierarchy, including the clergy, who challenged it for a
long time.21
The God Worshipper Movement During

the First World War
Throughout the First World War, the God Worshippers caught the
attention of the military authorities on the Salonika front. They prayed
at night in military camps, kneeling outside in silence: this attracted
other soldiers.22 They requested vegetarian meals and took confession

and Holy Communion before going into the battle. The preacher
Ivan Blagojević gave repentance speeches to soldiers on the Salonika
front.23Metropolitan Dimitrije mentioned God Worshippers in Corfu
in a letter from 1917, but said they were scarce.24 There are indications
that the movement appeared in the Nežider (Nezsider) camp among the
prisoners.25
Officers treated them strictly at first. Surviving soldiers testified
that the Scriptures were taken off them, that they were forced to eat
meat, and that they were occasionally subjected to punishment. After
Metropolitan Dimitrije’s intervention, the punishment stopped.26 The
appearance of ‘intensified religious feelings among the soldiers and non-
commissioned officers’ awakened the interest of the highest military
authorities. The Supreme Command of the Serbian Army sent an order
to subordinate commands on 25 April 1918 to perform a confidential
investigation into whether ‘the belief is a kind of heresy that would be
against our Orthodox faith, state, and military order’. They concluded
it was neither spiritualism nor the Nazarenes. The religious feelings of
the God Worshippers were manifested in reading the Scriptures and
collectively interpreting them, strict fasting, addressing each other as
‘brothers’, avoiding profanity, and knowing the Ten Commandments
and the ‘Nicene Creed’: ‘The soldiers performed military duties without
grumbling and with great obedience, and it was not noticed that their
faith was at odds with performing military calls or fulfilling civic duties or
that it undermined the foundations of the Orthodox faith’.27
The investigation was submitted to Metropolitan Dimitrije, who
asked for further instructions about how to prevent the creation of a
religious sect in the army which might ruin its good order. The metro-
politan submitted his response on 28 March 1918. He asked the min-
ister of the army to instruct the High Command to continue watching
the God Worshippers and whether they had any possible contact with
the Nazarenes. The metropolitan advised the soldiers who adhered
to strict fasting that ‘It would be no sin for anyone, even for them, if
they, together with other comrades, took fatty foods to keep their health
and strength. When, in the name of God, they return to their homes,
there they could arrange food and everything else that the regulations
of faith require. But they also need to know that the sick and poor are
forgiven if they eat fatty food during Lent’. He recommended sending
Major Atanasije Popović out among the soldiers to find out more about
God Worshippers, as he ‘knew how to deal with farmers and simple

people and to question these people as friends and find their true spir-
itual needs’.28 In 1918, Duke Stepa Stepanović, the commander of the
Second Army, ordered subordinate commanders and officers to pay the
greatest possible attention to this phenomenon and report it to their
superiors.
Organisation and Institutionalisation
After the war, the movement spread through the villages of Šumadija,
Mačva, Stig, Pomoravlje, Vojvodina, and Semberija, as well as among
the urban population, although to a much lesser extent.29 Most con-
temporaries described God Worshippers in similar ways. It was cited that
‘their life almost had the stamp of holiness’. They were tolerant to insults
‘which often came from their nearest and dearest’, preached repent-
ance and the imminent coming of the Saviour, interpreted dreams and
signs, prayed and went to church regularly, and took the sacraments four
times a year. They went to church in groups, knelt during prayers, and
were sure to kiss the cross and icons. Each time they confessed, they
asked for epitimias (penance). They respected all religious holidays,
did not swear, greeted each other with ‘God help you!’ and ‘God bless
you’, called each other ‘brother’ and ‘sister’, and fasted on Wednesdays,
Fridays, and throughout Lent. They were noted for dressing modestly:
women and girls wore headscarves in church while many of the men had
long hair, a beard, and a cross around their necks. Some used to come to
church barefoot. While they did not live unmarried, they preached celi-
bacy; many became monks. Girls who had made vows wore black. God
Worshippers did not smoke, drank alcohol in moderation, avoided meat
(pork in particular), did not take part in celebrations, and did not ‘go to
bars, gamble, swear, and tell ribald stories and jokes’.30 They helped each
other when in trouble and took special care of the poor and the sick: in
1931, they created a hospital fund. However, they did not go to doctors
or take drugs because they believed in healing by prayer. They promoted
belief in miracles (collections of contemporary miracles were regular in
journals) and interpreted natural disasters (such as the earthquake of
early May 1927 and floods in 1926) as warnings from God and as the
consequences of sin.31 Usually, they avoided courts and legal battles with
neighbours, were honest and did not steal, brought up their children in
the spirit of devotion, and were obedient to the authorities, for which
they prayed to God. They appreciated priests who gave sermons. All of
them had lamps and icons of their patron saints at home. The walls in
the rooms where they prayed resembled iconostases. Each house had at
least a copy of the New Testament and Holy Scripture. They criticised
the intelligentsia for being wicked in religious and moral terms.32 They
argued in favour of burning ‘sinful’ books.33 God Worshippers were in
favour of keeping the old calendar.
They had their own reading rooms and gathering places outside
church where they could pray without priests. God Worshippers gath-
ered in these reading rooms after Sunday services and on public holidays.
More often, they had meetings in private homes. Sometimes, prayers and
spiritual songs would last until midnight, and even slightly longer dur-
ing the winter.34 Occasionally, such meetings were held in the open air.
A few had a social aspect to them. For example, in 1940 in Požarevac,
God Worshippers joined protests against unscrupulous speculators dur-
ing a meeting held in a wood.35
Common prayers in private homes were one of the reasons why priests
rejected them. Priests also had reason to dislike the God Worshippers
because the latter criticised clerical inertia: ‘Sometimes quietly and
sometimes loudly, they asked a priest to be more of a priest. Sometimes,
they controlled him as tutors and supervisors’. Priests could not accept
that ‘popular preachers’ were sermonising in their parishes.36 God
Worshippers indicated to priests that in many regions they had more suc-
cess than the priests did and that this was the reason why priests were
afraid of them.37 They did not hesitate to criticise the bishops for liv-
ing in a non-Orthodox manner. Serious conflicts sometimes occurred.
A priest from a village near V. Plana reported God Worshippers to the
police. Another priest from the vicinity of Predejane said in anger that all
of them should be killed.38
In the 1920s, the God Worshipper movement was not unified: several
different currents were at work under the broad umbrella of the move-
ment. In Belgrade, an editorial board was founded in 1919 to publish
the journal Bogomoljac (the owner was Milivoj V. Aranicki, secretary of
the Ministry of Justice). However, it only lasted two issues before disap-
pearing. It has been opined that the name Bogomoljac became a generic
term after the appearance of this journal.39 In May 1920, the edi-
tors of the journal asked Metropolitan Dimitrije to give permission for
Tihomir Gačić to spread God Worshipper publications, which was duly
obtained.40 The metropolitan issued a notice to the clergy (4 September

1920) to offer help to Gačić, Milosav Radojević, and Boginja Mićić.
They could travel to set up reading rooms in villages and form
‘Brotherhoods’. In these reading rooms, religious books were supposed
to be held and classes with spiritual content organised. For unknown
reasons, T. Gačić again asked the metropolitan for the same permission
in November 1920. Metropolitan Dimitrije approved the establish-
ment of the ‘Covenant of Orthodox Christians’ on 26 November 1920.
On 29 December 1920, he accepted the rules of the Orthodox Christian
Brotherhood. The rules were made up of eight articles, which stated that
the Brotherhood was established to fortify members ‘in the Orthodox
faith’. It was declared that the Brotherhood would work to create read-
ing rooms, lecture, and assist with the interpretation of Holy Scripture.41
In October 1920, the journal Sabornici appeared and was published
for a longer period of time than its predecessor.42 One of its best-
known associates was Bishop Nikolaj Velimirović, while its editor was
Dragoljub Milivojević. In 1921, the journal bore the subtitle ‘the organ
of the Orthodox movement for the unity of Christian churches’ from
issue 7 to 8 onwards. In February 1921, Milan Bozoljac and Dragoljub
Milivojević43 created ‘The Rules of National Christian Communities’.
The aim was to unite all the Orthodox religious movements in Serbia
into one group. Bishop Nikolaj Velimirović, the remarkable Milan
Bozoljac (a state treasurer from Jagodina), and Dragoljub Milivojević
(a theology student and hieromonk) were among the principal initia-
tors.44 On 2 March 1921, Patriarch Dimitrije approved the basic rules
of the NCC. He gave his blessing to the association on the condition
that further activities should take place with the consent of the local
clergy.45 This approval was confirmed by the SOC Synod in 1922. The
first article defined the association as a ‘community of all who love God
and fulfil His commandments’ that would operate under the name of the
‘National Christian Community’ (NCC): it ‘recognises the Lord Jesus
Christ as the Saviour of the world, and Orthodoxy as the mandatory reli-
gion’. Their aim was the nation’s moral rebirth, comprehensive prepara-
tion for life on earth, and support for all movements in this field. The
executive board was to ‘spread the doctrine of the Gospels in different
places and make new associations’. According to some testimonies, the
NCC was named under the influence of English Christian communities
with the addition of the term ‘national’, although the two had nothing
in common.46
The statute had 15 points and was in force until the Second World
War. Before 1941, there were several attempts to establish a different,
more comprehensive statute, but the SOC Synod did not sanction any
proposal.47 The main reason lay in the fragmented attitude of the epis-
copate.48 SOC bishops were aware that religious movements could be an
incentive for spiritual renewal, but that they could also have devastating
consequences for the Church. A way was sought to retain this movement
within the Church, to impose leadership upon them, and to channel
their energy.49 Patriarch Dimitrije sent his blessings to God Worshippers
and from time to time praised their work. During his visit to Kragujevac
in 1924, he told them, ‘I just recommend that you keep the sacred
Orthodox faith as our holy church teaches you and that in this regard,
you never choose the wrong path’.50
In August 1920, the first large God Worshipper assembly took place
in the old church of St George in Krnjevo, near Velika Plana. Bishop
Nikolaj Velimirović attended as an envoy of Metropolitan Dimitrije.51
The next big NCC assembly took place on 23 October 1921 in
Kragujevac. This assembly elected Bishop Nikolaj as its spiritual leader
and Patriarch Dimitrije as its protector. In 1922, as the informal leader
of the movement (his position had not been made official by the SOC),
Bishop Nikolaj published an article entitled ‘Do not reject them’ in
Glasnik, the patriarchate’s official journal. In this article, he stated,
among other things:
The only serious, spontaneous, and idealistic movement in the field of

religion in our country is the God Worshippers movement… In my
conversations with these people, I have often heard priests’ whispering
‘religious madness’ or ‘fools for Christ’… I would be more joyful if this
movement caught on in our towns more than villages because the village
follows the town faster than the town follows the village. But even if it is
in the village, it needs to look forward and never ignore it and reject it…
Seek thus to understand God Worshippers. Refrain from throwing stones
at them because you could hit Christ. Do not throw them away and they
will not reject you.52
After Bishop Nikolaj publicised the invitation, the dispute over the
movement lessened and interest in it began to grow, although it
remained in limbo in the SOC.53 Vesnik Srpske crkve soon published a
whole series of articles in support of the God Worshipper movement
and established fraternities in seminaries to improve the relationships of
future young priests with the God Worshippers. Some priests became
members of fraternities, but most of them remained reserved because
God Worshippers continued to critique the clergy. D. Milivojević for
instance wrote that all the priests had ‘lost their spirituality and became
materialistic’.54
Outside of Church circles, serious criticism could be heard in 1921.
Veselin M. Vukićević wrote that ‘monks and other overly devout hyster-
ics were sent to the villages, people are filled with pamphlets full of mys-
terious religious nonsense… It is expected that in the Orthodox part of
our nation today there are around 300,000 organised members of the
movement’. According to his opinion, this movement could be revolu-
tionary ‘if it was dissatisfied with the present’; however, if it sought to
restore the ideal from the times of the Nemanjić dynasty, then it ‘might
become “intolerant”’ and stir the ‘appearance of apocalyptic uprisings,
ready to fulfil the will of God with wild fanaticism, and on the ruins of
contemporary culture elevate a vague and barbarous idyll by the image
of the blurry righteousness of God’. Vukićević warned that never had a
revolutionary religious movement obtained the blessings of the Church,
since once the blessing had been given, the movement stopped being
independent and revolutionary:
In the position of Messiah and tousled revolutionary, Mr Velimirović went

before the crowd of believers. But the revolutionary Šumadija knows
well that Mr Velimirović is a counter-revolutionary. While praising the
revolution, he immersed it in the heavy moisture of mysterious mysti-
cism, producing dizziness in weak minds, and, using the authority of the
apostle, took care to hide the signs of the present from the hungry eyes
of the audience… Mr Velimirović is on the thorny path to make agents
from Christ, and the people and the Church will perhaps declare him an
over-saint.55
At the NCC assembly in Kragujevac in 1921, it was decided to launch

a journal and collect membership fees. The first issue was published in
January 1922 under the title Nove duše (New souls), but only two vol-
umes were produced. From March 1922, the journal Hrišćanska zajed-
nica began to be published.56 Brotherhoods were supposed to collect a
contribution of one dinar per month from members and to send a quar-
ter of the total to the central treasury. However, there were some diffi-
culties with the regular collection of membership fees. Membership cards
were introduced with the idea of distinguishing between members of
the movement and sectarians, Adventists, Nazarenes, and ‘perverse God

Worshippers’. The cards were obtained by those God Worshippers who
repented of their sins, made confession before a priest, fasted, and lived
under the rule of the NCC. Internship cards were issued to those who
had not repented and confessed.57
The NCC Executive Board had 12 members in 1922; however, since
some were inactive, this number was reduced by half.58 The NCC central
office was in Belgrade for only a short time, since it moved to Kragujevac
in 1921. In January 1922, it started to release devotional books. In
1923, they bought a small printing house with a hand press which first
printed brochures and, after 1924, a journal. In early July 1924, the
office and editorial staff moved into the house of the benefactor Milica
Jovanović, a teacher who gave buildings and a yard to the NCC. The
central office remained there until the end. They intended to build up
the NCC’s place of residence in Kragujevac and to obtain machines that
could produce icons. However, as there were not enough funds, only a
small building was constructed on the lot of their benefactress Jovanović.
A new printing machine was placed there in 1928 with the financial
help of Professor Mihailo Pupin from New York and Vaso Ćuković from
Denver (Colorado, USA).59
In the interwar period, the God Worshipper movement continued to
publish. Apart from the aforementioned journal, which had a circula-
tion several times higher than any other religious journal in the SOC,
the series Library of the National Christian Community was published,
with over a hundred releases before 1941. In addition, brochures were
issued and distributed free of charge, along with instructions for travel-
ling preachers. The total circulation figure, which the God Worshipper
movement announced between the wars, amounted to over four mil-
lion. Given that there was no tradition of issuing religious texts in Serbia,
this represented a considerable circulation.60 The journal did not receive
a regular grant and was reliant on subscription fees. The editors often
warned readers to pay their fees or face being removed from the list of
recipients61: ‘What is 5 or 10 dinars per month to give to those who
grope in the dark? It is only 2–3–4 pints of beer. Say that you won’t
drink or smoke this money’.62 The impact of these activities was not neg-
ligible, as can be demonstrated by an article in the journal Težak in 1933
which asked about what people read in Serbia: ‘Pious books were hardly
ever required, with the exception of some regions and villages where the
so-called God Worshippers appeared, which are increasingly becoming
consumers of devotional literature, while other villagers do not buy such

books’.63
Hrišćanska zajednica soon faced serious criticism. The priest Dr Vlad.
Dimitrijević wrote in Vesnik in 1926 that ‘this body has a minimal level
of enlightenment… It does not represent the essence of theology well…
Particularly in the beginning, the journal published completely illit-
erate essays’. It was criticised for spreading superstition, representing
the essence and depth of theology inadequately, and publishing things
that contradicted to the basic teachings of Orthodoxy.64 D. Milivojević
answered this criticism in May of the same year, claiming that, by print-
ing such brochures, they wanted to prevent the release of numerous
immoral and atheistic books. He added that these articles fought for
respect to the holy icons, repentance, national communion, and other
Orthodox dogmas. ‘But if earlier there were errors in the dogmatic
sense, it was only out of ignorance in wandering orientation and enter-
ing spiritualism. The God Worshippers movement reached out its hands
desperately to the mother Church, but except Bishop Nikolaj, few priests
and monks wanted to hang out with “spiritualists” and the despised God
Worshippers: they rarely entered their lines to give them the directive
and correct mistakes and misconceptions’. He admitted that the journal
was at the lowest level of enlightenment, but argued that it was intended
for uneducated people, who almost completely did not understand
Orthodox dogmas even when explained in ‘ordinary language’.65
The Synod of 3 July 1924 sent a recommendation to diocesan author-
ities which stated that ‘due to the emergence of the God Worshipper
movement with special religious needs and requirements, which often
led clergy into confusion about how to relate and act towards them, the
Holy Synod recommends that the present movement should be regarded
at least with benevolent neutrality, and even better as some kind of pro-
tectorate’. However, as this movement was diverse and did not always
show the same aspirations and beliefs in spiritual things, the clergy were
ordered to observe the events of the God Worshippers in their own sur-
roundings and then report to an archpriest for further instructions.66
This was not enough for some priests: at an assembly held in Cetinje in
1925, they asked the SOC ‘to prescribe exact instructions on how to
behave, as the earlier given decisions were insufficient for the present size
and strength of the movement’.67 On this occasion, the clergy decided
to take the God Worshipper movement ‘into their own hands’, since
preachers, supplied with licences to preach, often gave interpretations
that were non-Orthodox or were related to the Adventists: indeed, some

were spreading Adventist publications.68
To show loyalty to the state and the Church, the NCC administrative
and executive committee of 1925 told their members that in the upcom-
ing elections they should vote only for those who had ‘a moral charac-
ter of life, who are pious and respectful of the holy Orthodox faith and
protect it no matter to which party they belong’. ‘Every member of the
NCC must respect and faithfully preserve the oath of allegiance taken to
king and country and respond to the call’.69 During the year, they also
gained a tricolour flag with the inscription of the NCC.70
The first three annual general meetings of the NCC were held in
Kragujevac. From this town alone (i.e. not counting members from
the surrounding villages), there were around 400 followers.71 The first
assembly outside Kragujevac was held in the monastery of Jošanica in
Jagodina in 1924 and was attended by Bishop Nikolaj, Metropolitan
Josif, and the priest Gavra Milošević. On this occasion, they made fol-
lowing decisions: that the NCC should be an independent association
with specific rules, management, and organisation; that every member
should pay an annual membership fee of 12 dinars and three dinars of
contributions; that the wealthy should pay the membership fees of the
poor; and to set up a proselytisation fund to help missionaries. They
forbade collaboration with movements whose teaching was contrary to
Orthodoxy; the communists and atheists could not be members of the
movement and should be struggled against. On this occasion, it was
found that the NCC did not have any cash, and that its assets were in the
form of machines, materials, equipment, and books, which accounted for
around 100,000 dinars: it also had debts of 10,000 dinars.72 This assem-
bly decided to draft new rules73; a year later, a regulation on the organi-
sation of the NCC was adopted.74
Anyone could be a member of the movement and its associated fra-
ternities, regardless of their age, gender, and occupation: all they had to
do was promise to ‘live by the rules and regulations of the Orthodox
Church, the commandments of the Holy Scriptures, and state civil laws,
and if for this promise he had the testimony of an elder member’. The
first level of membership, from which the administration was elected,
included those who ‘lived a life of strictly self-controlled avoidance of
all pleasures of the world and body’. The second level was made up of
‘those members who had repented and made a confession of sins which
followed the Church regulations and the commandments of the Holy
Scriptures’. The third level included members who were preparing for
confession and repentance, but who were not ‘unlearned of certain hab-
its and vices’, like smoking tobacco and partaking in alcoholic drinks.
However, many sinful individuals were excluded from fraternities, since,
despite several verbal warnings, they had gone to pubs, drank booze and
played cards, quarrelled with and abused parents, or cheated on their
wives and left their families for other women.75 There were also cases of
quarrels over leadership in the fraternities.76
‘Missionaries’ or ‘popular preachers’ held missionary courses to con-
front ‘sectarian preachers and booksellers’. The topics of these courses
were missionary work, the interpretation of unclear points in the
Scriptures, rhetoric, and the organisation of the God Worshipper move-
ment. Velimirović spoke out in support of the further development of
lay preachers. He was concerned with how to institutionalise courses and
hold them on a regular basis. Bishop Nikolaj suggested that the minis-
ters of the competent ecclesiastical authorities should issue an announce-
ment that such members of the laity could preach to the people and hold
missionary courses every two or three years.77 The first such course was
held in the monastery of St Roman in 1923, the second in Kragujevac in
1926, and the third in the monastery of Rakovica in 1929. The lectur-
ers on the Rakovica course were the Russian Bishop Mitrofan, a former
manager of a monastic school,78 and the priest-monk Dionisije. Patriarch
Dimitrije visited the course and welcomed the participants. In the mean-
time, an assembly in Bogovađa monastery organised courses for the study
of Church singing and the Church regulations in 1928.79 The SOC
assembly sent out a call for a leader of the movement to be appointed
from the ranks of the episcopate and for the designation of a monastery
to be its centre.80 The assembly accepted the need for better organisation
and the extension of the movement, but nothing came from it.81
From 1931 to 1940, Bishop Nikolaj held six courses for missionaries
in several monasteries.82 In Hrišćanska zajednica and other publications,
the names of these ‘folk preachers’ were often mentioned. Their num-
ber is difficult to determine, but some sources mention that there were
between 30 and 120 of them. They went to villages and prisons, holding
sermons of repentance.83 Despite the efforts to better prepare the mis-
sionaries, complaints could often be heard about the insufficient num-
bers of prepared preachers and false missionaries.84
The NCC took care of the education of women and even planned
the opening of a Women Workers’ school in 1925.85 In 1930 in Ivanjica,
a subcommittee of the Association for Housewives and Mothers was

established to educate rural girls from the district of Moravica to be good
mothers and wives and to bring them up in the spirit of Orthodoxy in
accordance with Serbian familial customs.86 The influence of the God
Worshipper movement was felt in the work of the Women’s Christian
Movement (WCM), established in March 1920, which originally arose from
a group of women who gathered during the occupation of Serbia in the
First World War. They founded local women’s committees, organised pub-
lic lectures, and visited orphanages, prisons, and nursing homes. The WCM
had sections in charge of kindergartens, propaganda, supplies, and events.87
From 1926 onwards, large annual national Orthodox councils were
held. God Worshippers came from all over the country. Bishop Nikolaj
was practically always present. The first such council was held in the
monastery of Drača near Kragujevac in 1926. Nikolaj’s initiative was to
create a committee that would work on uniting the NCC and Orthodox
Christian Brotherhood.88 This council was later held every year in differ-
ent monasteries in Serbia and Bosnia. The councils lasted from two to
three days. God Worshippers arrived with crosses and flags at the head
of a column while displaying icons of the Virgin Mary, the Holy Trinity,
or Brotherhood placards. The God Worshippers would move in a pro-
cession, singing hymns. They were accommodated in residence halls,
gates, and monastic dwellings. The programme of each festival included
worship, prayer, confession, communion, spiritual songs, lessons, ser-
mons, and the reading of reports on Brotherhoods. A spartan lunch
or dinner was always organised for everyone. Everybody ate from clay
plates with wooden spoons. Before and after meals, the monks read out
prayers. During the evening services, pious people kneeled and kissed
the ground. After dinner, reports on the work of the individual frater-
nities and missionary preachers would be submitted. Later, choirs sang,
recitations were performed, spiritual speeches were held, and folk bards
sang heroic and devotional songs. God Worshippers would stay up until
late in the night in the monastic refectory, reading and singing Gospel
hymns. In the summer season, they slept on mats if there were no beds.
They attended morning services led by an archpriest. The councils ended
with the participants singing the hymn of Saint Sava. Among the devo-
tees were a lot of sick people who sought healing: prayers were read for
them in the churches.89
Besides the regular annual councils, God Worshippers gathered in
numerous prayer councils at the diocesan level, which were held either
every two months or quarterly. For these assemblies are sometimes

receiving benefits of the railway.90 The NCC also organised lectures, spir-
itual concerts by the mixed ‘choir of the Christian Community’,91 and
pilgrimages to monasteries.92 A ‘fund of Christian mercy’ was established
in 1925 to help the poor, miserable, abandoned, and decrepit members
and non-members of the movement.93 Two years later, however, it was
clear that the fund was not functioning well.94
Work on the organisation of fraternities continued in 1926. Each
NCC fraternity bore the name of a spiritual festival or a patron saint.95
The NCC had the biggest number of fraternities in central Serbia, the
Banat, Bačka, Srem, and in eastern Bosnia. Most of them were in villages,
but some urban fraternities were also mentioned (Belgrade, Zemun,
Kragujevac, Jagodina, Niš, Pirot, Kruševac, Požarevac, Smederevo,
Valjevo, Novi Sad, Sombor, Subotica, Srbobran, Vršac, Bečkerek, and
Kikinda).96 In Macedonia, there were fewer such groups, and most of
them were in the cities. In Herzegovina, the existence of one fraternity
was recorded, while in other parts of the country they were barely men-
tioned or simply did not exist.97 Among Serbs abroad, there was an NCC
Brotherhood in Romania and in Detroit (Michigan, USA).98
God Worshippers were often connected with mysticism and spiritu-
alism and were thus suspected of using typical ‘Protestant aids’ such as
conferences, special programmes for women, collective singing, and the
wide use of the printed word for religious purposes (distributing leaflets,
newspapers, and books on trains and in railway stations).99 Spiritualists
discouraged mourning for the dead, as death was not seen as something
sad, but as a transition to a better place. Similarly, God Worshippers
considered crying for the dead to be a sin. The strongest impact of spir-
itualism on the movement was felt in Šumadija, in the rural areas of
Smederevo district, and in the villages of the Kosmaj and Jasenica dis-
tricts. The priest Stevan Dimitrijević claimed that frequent conversions
were brought about by the spiritualist aspects of the God Worshippers
in Šumadija and Vojvodina.100 The NCC supported various issues relat-
ing to spiritualism, prophecies, and revelations. However, in October
1922, Hrišćanska zajednica rejected the opinion that their worship-
pers were spiritualists, saying they were trying to return ‘misguided psy-
chics with the help of God’ to the right path.101 At the beginning of
1923, Dragoljub Milivojević distinguished between God Worshippers,
Adventists, Nazarenes, and the Christian Community of Young People.
He admitted that the God Worshipper movement had, on occasion,
misled some into heresy.102 In the following years, Milivojević sharply

attacked spiritualism and tried distance himself from it.103 Although the
opinion that God Worshippers were not spiritualists continued to be
defended, there was still some doubt. The Church was trying to fight
against spiritualism, but could never eradicate the phenomenon.104
Unlike Milivojević, Milan Bozoljac did not give up his spiritualism and
in 1931 even started a journal called Duhovni život (Spiritual Life).105
Bishop Nikolaj warned ‘NCC members’ in 1931 that among the edi-
tors of this journal were the names of some former members of the God
Worshipper movement, although the movement and the newspaper were
not connected. Nikolaj declared that all of the hierarchs of the various
Orthodox Churches had condemned spiritualism as a dangerous delusion
at an assembly on Mount Athos in 1930.106 In the same year, a few fra-
ternities and individuals were excluded from the God Worshipper move-
ment because of their spiritualist inclinations.107 Bozoljac responded to
the attacks by claiming that spiritualism as a science had contributed to
the spiritual revival of the British and Americans, and that Bishop Nikolaj
had given him the idea of starting Duhovni život in Fenek monastery in
1929: the idea had been supported by D. Milivojević. However, when
the magazine emerged, both the bishop and Milivojević had come out
against him. Bozoljac attacked Milivojević for being a medium him-
self, having only abandoned spiritualism when he became a monk. He
expressed surprise at Bishop Nikolaj’s attitude (who called the spiritu-
alists heretics), stating that it was impossible for Velimirović to fail to
believe in spiritual phenomena and the existence of the spirit because he
wrote and spoke about them every single day, and even in his 1914 book
Besede iznad greha i smrti (Orations on sin and death).108 Nonetheless,
Duhovni život was prohibited at the request of the SOC.109
To combat the phenomenon of spiritualism among God Worshippers,
visits were organised to Mount Athos and Chilandar, after which many
of them, as the NCC press wrote, experienced a spiritual transforma-
tion110 and went to monasteries. The first pilgrimage to Mount Athos
was organised in 1925 with 300 worshippers.111 These hikes were con-
tinued over the following years.112 At the end of the 1930s, several pious
people went to Chilandar from Smederevo, some of them leaving their
families behind to do so. In some cases, several members of the same
family went to monasteries in Serbia. Hence, the widespread opin-
ion that it was the God Worshippers who saved Serbian monastic life
between the wars is justified.113
Some priests considered God Worshippers as fanatics, while others

described the movement as a copy of the Methodists. They wrote that
God Worshippers reduced all duties to prayer, introduced new practices,
and preached, even though they were ‘simple and ignorant’ and their
words were contrary to the teachings of the Church. Some priests criti-
cised the bishops by arguing that the latter were trying to gain credit
from organising the God Worshippers.114 The priest Velimir Savić stated
that the God Worshippers’ success and rapid expansion resulted from
weaknesses in Church services, which were performed in an incompre-
hensible language, and the discrepancy between what the priests were
saying and what they were practising in their personal lives.115
Serious charges were directed towards the God Worshippers’ prac-
tice of printing hymnals like those of the Adventists, Methodists, and
Nazarenes, and of using songs from the Nazarene songbook The New
Harp of Zion.116 Responding to this criticism, D. Milivojević said that
the God Worshipper movement emerged independently and had noth-
ing to do with the Pietists, Methodists, and Nazarenes. However, he did
not deny that the movement was turning towards spiritualism and that
Hrišćanska zajednica published texts contrary to the Orthodox faith.
He admitted that his book Tajne nevidljivog sveta (Secrets of the invisible
world) was written in a mystical frame, but said that it explained a lot of
spiritual phenomena better than the spiritualists. His other books were
said to have mystical aspirations, but they were not against the dogmas of
Orthodoxy. These works were written during the first phase of his liter-
ary work, the spiritualism of which he had now abandoned. Milivojević
also admitted that the God Worshippers had used Nazarene hymnals,
but had stopped once ‘the movement gained an Orthodox colour’; they
had then switched to singing spiritual songs written by Bishop Nikolaj.
Milivojević stressed that spiritual songs suppressed immoral lyrical poetry,
which was why the former had been introduced in the first place.117
In 1923, Milivojević was trying to distance himself from the
Nazarenes and Adventists, writing ‘Brother God Worshippers, mem-
bers and friends of the movement, it is our opinion that all religions on
earth are not alike in being salvatory because the teachings of all the
people who have founded religions are not all true. Moses’ faith can-
not be completely salvatory, since if it was, the Old Testament would
not testify for the New Testament through the words of His prophets
and the Messiah—Christ would not be foretold to save the world’. He
further added that the beliefs of the Nazarenes and Adventists deviated
greatly from Orthodoxy and were ‘not life-saving’.118 Texts against the
Nazarenes were published in the next year, while a further appeal was
published in 1927: ‘We therefore ask the NCC, out of great Christian
mercy, to take care of the unprotected unfortunate part of our nation,
placing their religious books, and thus thwart the increase of the
Nazarene torrent which was growing because of priests’ negligence’.119
In their publications, the God Worshippers opposed the ‘heresy of
Adventism’ and called for a ban on the Adventist Church because of its
negative influence on the ‘religious and national feelings of Serbs’.120
Adventist activities were viewed as a conspiracy and were called the
‘fruits of Jewishmasonry in Christianity’.121 The missionary courses
taught about the teachings of various sects (Adventists, Nazarenes, and
Lutherans),122 and in 1932, the NCC journal asked all members and
readers to follow sectarians and inform the journal about their hab-
its.123 That same year, D. Milivojević wrote about the spread of disbelief
in God, in particular among the youth, the rise of many sects and her-
esies, and the activities of the Adventists.124 In 1937, the monk Jovan
Rapajić wrote that ‘Adventism is heresy. Every heresy comes from the
devil’. Adventist leaders sued the editor of the Misionar for these open
attacks.125
The God Worshipper movement published anti-Semitic articles,
including parts of The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. In the second half
of the 1930s, Misionar contained criticism of ‘New Age modern inno-
vations’ (Satanism, Judaism, atheism, freemasonry, liberalism, commu-
nism, and Bolshevism) and other phenomena (spiritualism, sectarianism,
Adventism), which were reported to no longer exist in Serbia.
In the late 1920s and early 1930s, the movement went through a cri-
sis caused by both internal and external factors. One reason lay in the
conflict between Dionisije Milivojević and Bishop Nikolaj. The relation-
ship worsened to such an extent that the annual assembly was not held in
1932. In that year, the hieromonk Dionisije, citing examples of the pre-
war organisation of Orthodox popular movements in Russia, Bulgaria,
and Poland, stated that the Holy Synod of the Russian Orthodox
Church had created a missionary organisation for each presbytery and
governorship, which had given structure to the missionaries who were
supposed to lead the fight against the Catholics, Uniates, and other her-
etics. He concluded that the same order had to be established in the
Kingdom of Yugoslavia and announced the decision to divide the frater-
nity into dioceses and bind them to competent bishops.126 In the same
year, Dionisije attempted a sort of ‘coup’ at the 1932 conference at the

Rakovica monastery when he tried to remove Bishop Nikolaj from the
movement.127 His attempt failed: instead of Bishop Nikolaj, he himself
was excluded.128
Although it did not receive official recognition from the SOC and
remained ‘under observation’, the God Worshipper movement obtained
an ‘institutional-Church framework’ in 1932. According to some sources,
the Synod of the SOC assisted the movement, although this executive
Church body did not always have full control over it.129 In the following
years, the establishment of diocesan fraternity associations started. These
alliances were formed in the dioceses of Žiča, Niš, Belgrade-Karlovac,
Zvornik and Tuzla,130 Banat, and Braničevo. In 1940, Bishop Simeon of
Šabac approved the establishment of an alliance of fraternities in his dio-
cese which contained 35 Brotherhoods. In 1940, 24 fraternities joined
an alliance in the archbishopric of Belgrade-Karlovac: 33 did so in Žiča,
44 in Braničevo, 50 in Zvornik and Tuzla, and 51 in the Banat.131
The number of members is difficult to reconstruct. According to a
report by Milan Bozoljac from 1921, there were around 50,000 mem-
bers and non-members.132 Four years later, he talked about 300,000–
400,000 members. Bremer says that this number appears to be just
as exaggerated as the overly small figure of 15,000 given by Bishop
Hrizostom for 1930.133 Some authors cite figures between 15,000 and
200,000 for different years.134 In 1927, the total number of organised
members was around 10,000, and the number of those who attended
lectures was about 50,000. However, God Worshippers were aware
that the number of members was decreasing, as certain fraternities had
had to close.135 The large annual prayer meetings were attended by
2000–5000 people, if the estimates are accurate: these were the largest
gatherings. The total number of fraternities136 grew annually if we are
to believe in the numbers provided by Hrizostom (from 72 in 1927 to
450 in 1939).137 However, we must take into account the fact that some
Brotherhoods ceased to function. Furthermore, the number of individ-
ual members of fraternities in 1932–1933 ranged from 17 to 24: it was
only seldom that such fraternities had more than 50 or 100 members.
So, if we accept that the average number was 50 members per frater-
nity, we could conclude that the total number of members ranged from
3600 to 22,500. Although this number may be four or five times larger
if we include supporters or family members, the total number of God
Worshippers rarely exceeded 100,000 in periods of major booms. The
vast majority of members were peasants, artisans, small-time shopkeep-

ers, workers, housewives, priests, and monks. The sources also mention
judges, doctors, teachers, officers, and some junior civil servants, but
their numbers were negligible.138
In the first part of the 1930s, the NCC journal often published arti-
cles on movements that were similar to the God Worshippers. Some of
them focused on Orthodox Christian communities in Bulgaria which
had developed programmes of a religious, moral, educational, and chari-
table character.139 There is no information about contacts between God
Worshippers and Bulgarian fraternities, but Hristo Dimitrov, a Bulgarian
priest, attended a NCC celebration in a village near Pirot in 1937.140
The God Worshipper movement had a threefold significance for the
SOC: it revived religious life in Serbia, Vojvodina, and eastern Bosnia in
the interwar period, it contributed to the spread of the religious press,
and it revitalised monastic life. Some argued that the God Worshipper
movement led to a decrease in crime in those regions of Serbia renowned
for banditry (such as Guča).141 Several researchers believe that the SOC
tried to transform the God Worshippers into a nationalist movement
by using patriotic rhetoric in its publications and implementing a pro-
gramme of ritualisation (pilgrimages to monasteries as places of remem-
brance). While they acknowledge that not all God Worshippers became
nationalists,142 there was a link between the God Worshippers and the
right-oriented movement Zbor, which was led by Dimitrije Ljotić in the
second half of the 1930s. Not all the God Worshippers were members of
Zbor, but all prominent members of Zbor who hailed from religious cir-
cles were God Worshippers (Aleksa Todorović, Jovan Saračević, Ratibor
Đurđević, and others).143 They shared the same attitudes: anti-commu-
nism, anti-freemasonry, Serbian Orthodox ethics, Serbian peasant pater-
nalism, and anti-Semitism.144
The God Worshipper Movement After World War II

The gatherings of the God Worshippers were prohibited during World War
II. The central office in Kragujevac and the printing house were closed.
Some of the movement’s leadership died in the war, while others went into
exile. In the late 1950s and early 1960s, due to the activities of some bish-
ops, the God Worshipper movement returned to life in some parts of
Serbia and Bosnia. However, they were never again to be a movement of
missionaries, but were instead limited to small groups and individuals.
State authorities registered the revival of God Worshippers in 1956

and 1957 in the bishoprics of Banja Luka and Braničevo, whose bish-
ops had been known as supporters of the movement. Some celebrations
were organised by members of the Christian community attended by
Bishop Hrizostom. Active God Worshippers were present in Svetozarevo,
Požarevac, Šabac, Kragujevac, and Belgrade. Fraternal festivities and
prayer meetings were held in secret. In one report of the Federal
Commission for Religious Affairs from 1957, it was observed that SOC
‘Christian communities’ were active in the districts of Jajce and Banja
Luka. They organised a growing number of celebrations which were
attended by a significant amount of believers. It was further stated that
these communities had attracted about 15 members from the League of
Communists. Several of them took part in the struggle for national lib-
eration. The authorities in Serbia were informed that Bishop Hrizostom
had become the head of the movement in May 1958. In September
1961, Dr Andrej Frušić, the bishop of Banja Luka, promised the
Commission on Religious Affairs of the PR Bosnia and Herzegovina that
he would resolve the issue of the God Worshippers in Janja (Jajce dis-
trict) and prevent their influence from growing in the region.145
According to some sources, the movement was still active dur-
ing the 1950s in villages near Donji Vakuf (B&H). They used the New
Testament as their basic text as well as a book of prayers, the contents
of which they had learned by heart. God Worshippers met at even-
ing assemblies where they prayed, interpreted the Gospels, and dis-
cussed spiritual topics. Patients from local hospitals attended to pray
and have prayers said for them. The rooms where they prayed had
small tables with books and candles that were lit at the beginning of
each session. Such tables faced eastwards towards walls on which icons
were hung. Prayer meetings were scheduled at various places and went
from village to village at night, in secret. The length of such meet-
ings depended on the host and on the reading of the Gospel: the typi-
cal length was an hour. They respected all of the same rules that their
predecessors had between the wars. The bishop of Banja Luka received
information about these activities from monks who went to the God
Worshippers to hold prayers: the most famous among them was the
monk Avakum, who was known as a prophet.146
In the early 1960s, the God Worshipper movement was alive in
the Šabac and Valjevo eparchy to some extent. In 1962, Bishop Jovan
Velimirović sent an announcement to the clergy in which he sought the
restoration of old established fraternities wherever possible.147 During

the 1970s and 1980s, the SOC sought to expand its activities in social
and political life by trying to involve as many citizens in various forms
of lay work. The patriarchate gathered some members of former politi-
cal parties and cultural workers to begin modernising the Church: how-
ever, they concluded that the God Worshipper movement was over. The
new programme they established focused on increased activity in Church
boards and in clerical organisations. Special attention was paid to the
youth ‘who were lost to socialism’ and those cultural workers ‘who
refused to blindly serve the regime, and were thus systematically perse-
cuted’. Their basic attitude was that ‘it did not matter to what extent
someone was religious, but how much they were ready to fight for the
interests of the Church and Serbianism’.148
Conclusion
The development of the God Worshipper movement should be divided
into two periods: before and after 1919. During the emergence of the
movement, the influence of the Nazarenes was indubitable, particularly
in the Banat. Although Nikolaj Velimirović underlined that the God
Worshipper movement was a spontaneous movement of Serbian peas-
ants, the role of the Nazarenes in its emergence and development should
not be disregarded. God Worshippers developed and became more
numerous in those regions where the Nazarenes had a significant pres-
ence: here, the God Worshippers were the representatives of a struggle
against the Nazarenes and other Neo-Protestant communities, primarily
the Adventists. The God Worshipper movement, just like the Nazarenes
before them, spread rapidly and attracted an increasing number of fol-
lowers. It could be said that the movement was successful because it had
emerged from the dissatisfaction of priests, lay preachers, and believ-
ers in the state of the Orthodox Church after the First World War: in
other words, the movement developed at a specific social and histori-
cal moment. The cause behind the emergence of the God Worshipper
movement is not definite; however, a number of factors should be taken
into consideration. The basic principles of the movement emphasised
strict personal morality, the importance of reading Holy Scripture, and
the significance of praying and singing hymns. Equally, the Nazarenes
read and interpreted Holy Scripture in the vernacular, chanted the
hymns from The Harp of Zion, and placed a great deal of focus on prayer.
The prohibition against drinking alcohol, smoking, and swearing, the

rules that people should wear modest clothes and that women should
cover their heads, and the ban on physical work on Sundays were com-
mon characteristics of devoted believers in both the God Worshipper
movement and the Nazarenes. The Church itself ‘borrowed’ certain
elements from the God Worshippers in order to help prevent apostasy,
expand the ritual aspect of Orthodoxy, and retain the movement within
the broad umbrella of the Church. Therefore, a way was sought to place
the Church at the head of the God Worshipper movement. However, the
specific characteristics of the movement led to an ambiguous relation-
ship between it and the authorities of the SOC: some of those highly
placed in the Church supported the movement, but others were opposed
to it. Although it could be pointed out that the God Worshippers devel-
oped independently of the Church and were never officially recognised
by it, there were attempts to keep the movement within the Church.
The rapid expansion of the God Worshipper movement was indica-
tive of their effective missionary activities: printing journals and other
publications was of great importance. Certain religious practices of the
God Worshippers resembled those of the Neo-Protestants, who had
emerged under the influence of Pietism, one of the radical branches of
the Reformation. The mission of the movement was the moral renewal
of people through faith in God, spiritual awakening, the expansion of
the role of the Gospels in lay worship, and increasing the people’s piety
through fraternities and assemblies. The Church, for its part, regarded
the God Worshippers as active promoters of Orthodoxy, given that they
helped large numbers of people return to the faith and operated within
the limits of ecclesiastical piety. The changes experienced by religion
when it came into contact with modernity were reflected in Orthodox
churches, which adapted themselves to novelties and ideas from the West
in certain ways, such as by accepting new forms of devotion developed
in movements of religious renewal. The God Worshippers in Serbia were
one such movement.
Notes
1. Archive of Serbian Orthodox Church (ASOC), Minutes of the Holy
Synod, 1926–1932; Hrizostom (1971, pp. 345–362).
2. Vučković (1903, pp. 21–41), Beleslijin (1904, pp. 278–289),
Nikolaj (1921, pp. 273–274), Teofanović (1921, pp. 351–354), Monah
(1922, pp. 258), Anđelković (1922b, pp. 342–343), Anđelković (1922a,

pp. 323–326), Bota (1922, pp. 135–136), Marinković (1923, pp.
29–40), Milivojević (1924, pp. 352), Jurišić (1924, pp. 238–244),
Dimitrijević (1925, pp. 193–200), Grdanički (1925, pp. 543–549),
Dimitrijević (1926, pp. 319–328), Nikolaj (1953).
3. Bremer (1997, p. 115).
4. Subotić, http://www.pogledi.rs/, http://www.manastir-lepavina.org/
vijest_cir.php?id=4930 (Oct. 21, 2015).
5. Dimitrijević (1926, pp. 193–200).
6. Milivojević (1924, pp. 350–358).
7. “Skupština Hrišćanske Zajednice, bratstava i bogomoljaca u manastiru
Bogovađi”. (1928). Vreme, Sept. 12, 5.
8. Marinković (1923, pp. 29–40), Pavlović (1994, pp. 25).
9. Bota (1922, pp. 135–136).
10. Vučković (1903, pp. 21–41).
11. J. Tomić (1896, 2006).
12. Fruškogorac (1896, pp. 715–718, 728–732), Aleksov (2006, p. 108).
13. Bast. (V. Stajić) (1896).
14. Bremer (1997, pp. 118–120).
15. ‘Tasina pisma’ (1898).
16. Beleslijin (1904, pp. 278—289), Bremer (1997, pp. 118–120).
17. Military archives of the Ministry of Defence of the Republic of Serbia
(MA), P-6, K-265, F-Z.d. 5/1; P-6, K- 296, f-2, d-24/1; (Sekulić
2014, pp. 51–55).
18. Archives of Yugoslavia (AY), Ministry of Religious Affairs KSCS, 69-3-3.
19. Slijepčević (1986, pp. 24–25).
20. ‘Bogomoljački pokret i njegov značaj’, http://www.istocnik.info/index.
php/78-2012-06-07-08-00-10, (Oct. 9, 2015)
21. Bremer (1997, pp. 116).
22. Hrizostom (1971, pp. 345–362, 346), Kovačević (1971, pp. 465–486).
23. PHZ (1925, pp. 20–21).
24. ASOC, Corfu, 1917, AS, 125, May 8, 1917.
25. Hrizostom (1971, pp. 346–347), Nikolaj (1953).
26. Vesnik (1924, pp. 2), Grdanički (1925, pp. 543–549).
27. MA, P-6, K-265. F-Z. d. 5/1; P-6, K- 296, f-2, d-24/1.
28. Ibid.
29. Hrizostom (1991, pp. 229–253), Bojovic (2014, pp. 211–215).
30. PHZ (1925, pp. 20–21).
31. Dionisije (1927, pp. 5–9).
32. Saračević (1928, pp. 10–13).
33. Milivojević (1924, pp. 350–358), Dimitrijević (1926, pp. 319–328),
Milivojević (1927), PHZ (1929, pp. 1), HZ (1934, pp. 13), Hrizostom
(1991, pp. 229–253).
34. Radosavljević (1993, pp. 14).

35. Vreme (1940, pp. 11).
36. Ibid.
37. PHZ (1926, pp. 18).
38. Hrizostom (1991, pp. 229–253).
39. Grdanički (1925, pp. 543–549).
40. Subotić (1996, pp. 29–30).
41. ASOC, Varia, 1920.
42. 11 issues were released in Zemun.
43. Dionisije (Dragoljub) Milivojević (1898–1979), from 1939, was bishop
of the USA and Canada (1939–1964) and bishop of the Midwestern
USA (1963). Due to the development of a schism, he was defrocked by
the Serbian Orthodox Church in 1964. Sava (1996, pp. 172). For more
on the activities of Bishop Dionisije during and after the Second World
War, see Radić (2002).
44. Subotić (1996, pp. 16) (according to the text of Bishop Nikolaj,
‘Bogomoljci–junaci naših dana’, Misionar, 5, 1939).
45. PCEŽ (1934, pp. 309–313).
46. Dionisije (1929a, pp. 5–12, 15), Hrizostom (1991, pp. 229–253).
47. Ibid.
48. Marinković (1933a), Bremer (1997, pp. 121–122), Hrizostom (1991,
pp. 229–253).
49. Grdanički (1925, pp. 543–549).
50. Glasnik (1922, pp. 386–388), Subotić (1996, pp. 49).
51. Hrizostom (1991, pp. 229–253).
52. Nikolaj (1922, pp. 47–56), Nikolaj (1997, pp. 11–14). 20 years later,
Nikolaj Velimirović wrote: ‘At that time people and groups of people
appeared called God Worshippers. These were the people who had
regard for nothing else except God and their souls, and who underlined
the principle: Start from yourself! They read the Scriptures, sang spir-
itual songs, gathered for prayer, walked to monasteries, confessed their
sins with repentance, fasted and took the sacraments, and talked about
the wonders of God in their lives. In this way, they burned with a fire
inside themselves. They were despised, ridiculed, pursued, arrested,
tortured, but they did not care. They were called lunatics. I was called
the same. They were saying: it is that Nikolaj, who lived in enlightened
England for so long, who now hangs out with these nuts! They did not
know that England increased the God Worshippers’ ideas in me. When
they called me crazy, I rejoiced. Don’t let, O God, this ‘madness’ ever
weaken in me until the end of my life’. Nikolaj (1983, pp. 556).
53. Bremer (1997, pp. 118–122).
54. Petrović (1926, pp. 12–16), Dionisije (1930a, pp. 1–3).
55. Vukićević (1921, pp. 306–311).

56. The journal was called Pravoslavna hrišćanska zajednica (PHZ)
(1924–1932; 1935–1936). From 1922 to 1931, the editors were
Dragoljub (Dionisije) Milivojević, hieromonk Misailo Stojanović, Živan
M. Marinković, and priest Aleksa Todorović. At the beginning of 1936,
the journal was merged with the magazine Misionar and from then until
the end of publication (February 1941) bore the title Misionar—an organ
of the Orthodox Brotherhood Union of the People’s Christian Community
and was published in Kragujevac. Editors were E. Glocar, Radoje Arsović
(monk Jakov), and monk Jovan Rapajić. It appeared monthly, first con-
taining 16 pages and then 32. Each issue of Misionar came with the free
supplement Mali misionar. The journal was first published in 1922 in
3000 copies. Before 1937, the largest circulation was 12,000. Mali misio-
nar was printed in 1936 in 40,000 copies and in 22,000 in 1937.
57. PHZ (1925, pp. 20–21).
58. Ibid.
59. PHZ (1927, pp. 30).
60. Bremer (1997, pp. 117).
61. Hrizostom (1991, pp. 229–253).
62. HZ, 9, 1923.
63. D. L., (1933), pp. 831.
64. Dimitrijević (1926, pp. 319–328).
65. Milivojević (1926, pp. 1–11).
66. Letopis timočke eparhije (1928, pp. 64).
67. Bremer (1997, pp. 118).
68. PHZ (1925, pp. 1–5).
69. PHZ (1925, pp. 20–21).
70. HZ (1923).
71. Dimitrijević (1925, pp. 1–2).
72. Debt problems were also present over the coming years. HZ (1934,
pp. 9–17).
73. PHZ (1925, pp. 20–21), PHZ (1926, pp. 23–27).
74. NCC rules prescribed what God Worshippers had already implemented
in practice: prayer, fasting, communion, worship, etc. Besides these
and daily ‘exercise in virtues’, they were ordered to receive a monthly
magazine and other books, and not to read immoral novels, to cultivate
mercy and good deeds, to be obedient and submissive to civil laws and
the regulations of the Orthodox Church, and to avoid any connection
with the anti-state movements and parties. Osnovna pravila…, 1925;
Subotić (1996, pp. 47, 57, 59).
75. PHZ (1927, 3–4, pp. 32; 9–10, pp. 22; 1928, 2, pp. 12).
76. HZ (1934), PHZ (1935, pp. 14–17).
77. Bremer (1997, pp. 121–122).

78. There is not enough data on contacts with representatives of the Russian
emigration. In mid-1932, the obituary of Archimandrite Amvrosije was
published. He was a monk who had come from Russia in 1926 and
taken over administration of the monastery of Miljkovo. He helped
worshippers and attracted them to the monastery. PHZ (1932).
79. Vreme (1928, pp. 7).
80. Responding to a question on the relationship of the movement to the
SOC, Dionisije said that the goal was the ‘moral rebirth of our nation’.
He considered it necessary to form a missionary school and give mate-
rial resources to help expand the Orthodox faith. Dionisije (1928,
pp. 1–3).
81. PHZ (1929, pp. 1–6).
82. Hrizostom (1991, pp. 229–253).
83. PHZ (1927, pp. 26–28). Hrizostom (1991, pp. 229–253), Radosavljević
(1993, pp. 37–38.
84. PHZ (1927, 9–10, pp. 22; 1928, 6, pp. 1; 1929, 2–3, pp. 30; 1930, 11,
pp. 13; 1932, 5).
85. PHZ (1925, 1, pp. 1–4).
86. PHZ (1932, 9, pp. 13–14).
87. Subotić (1996, pp. 34–35).
88. PHZ (1926, 10, pp. 1–4).
89. PHZ (1925, 10–11, pp. 6), F. A. (1937, pp. 5), Vreme (1940), Kaličanin
(1940), Radosavljević (1993, pp. 81, 83, 85).
90. Đorđević (2011, pp. 51–62).
91. The NCC Brotherhood ‘The Holy Shroud Mother of God’ gave a spirit-
ual concert where the works of blind missionary Draginja Bošković were
mentioned. The concert was followed by a lecture from the president
of the community, the priest Lj. Antić, on the importance of Church
singing and the role of the pious and patriotic poems of D. Bošković.
Pravda, 1933, pp. 4.
92. HZ, 10–11, 1933.
93. The rules of Christian Fund of Mercy had 13 articles. The aim of the
fund was to help poor widows, the sick, the poor, abandoned children,
and the elderly; the funds were to be collected through entry fees, mon-
etary donations, and contributions in food. Financial aid could be a gift
or a loan. PHZ (1925, pp. 1–3), PHZ (1926, 4, pp. 3).
94. PHZ (1927, 9–10, pp. 22).
95. Hrizostom (1991, pp. 229–253).
96. HZ (1933, 10–11, pp. 9).
97. PHZ (1930, 1, pp. 10).
98. Hrizostom (1991, pp. 229–253).
99. Aleksov (2006, pp. 161).

100. Dimitrijević (1925b, pp. 193–200).
101. Subotić (1996, pp. 37–38).
102. Milivojević (1923, pp. 2–15).
103. Milivojević (1930), Dionisije (1930b, pp. 3–4).
104. Grdanički (1925, pp. 543–549; Jevtić (1924, pp. 80–85, 118–132),
Radić (2009, pp. 211–214).
105. Radić (2009, pp. 218).
106. Nikolaj (1931a, b, pp. 1–4), Subotić (1996, pp. 99–100, 109, 116).
Bishop Nikolaj Velimirović wrote in 1953 about God Worshippers
movement that ‘for over twenty years I have taken part in the move-
ment and watched its actions… I must tell the truth about the Serbian
God Worshippers even for though I have been appointed by the Holy
Synod as the manager of this movement. I have been the manager for
twenty years. I tried to clear this movement of simple peasant people of
spiritism and every kind of sectarianism, heresy, and schisms, which were
deliberately brought into it by strangers and by the local people out of
ignorance’. Nikolaj, svetijakov.org
107. Those excluded were Isailo Nikolić, the farmer and psychic medium
Zora Dokić, as well as some other members who held spiritualistic ses-
sions or visited them. The fraternities of the Three Holy Hierarchs of
Kusadak and the Shroud of the Holy Virgin of Belgrade were excluded.
PHZ, 11, 1931.
108. Duhovni život (1931, pp. 1–9), Duhovni život (1932, 4).
109. HZ (1933, pp. 4).
110. In 1932, Dionisije Milivojević said that spiritualism was ‘hit with an axe
at the root’ by the pilgrimage to Mount Athos in 1925, when many for-
mer spiritualists ‘woke up’. Dionisije (1932, pp. 6–12), Subotić (1996,
pp. 120).
111. PHZ, 4, 1925.
112. PHZ, 3, (1932a), PHZ, 6, 7–8, (1928).
113. Dimitrijević (1925a, pp. 1–2), PCEŽ (1934, pp. 309–313), Hrizostom
(1991, pp. 229–253), Radosavljević (1993, pp. 39, 45, 48, 60).
114. Tufegdžić (1922, pp. 323), Petrović (1924), Medaković (1924),
Dimitrijević Dimitrijević (1925a, pp. 1–2), Pekarović (1927, pp. 312),
PCEŽ (1934, pp. 304–308).
115. Savić (1924, pp. 3–4).
116. Dimitrijević (1926, pp. 319–328).
117. Milivojević (1926, pp. 1–11).
118. Milivojević (1923, pp. 2–15).
119. PHZ, 8, 1927; Matić (1927, pp. 6–7).
120. PHZ, 1–2, 1927; 6–7, 1927.

121. PHZ, 12, 1925, pp. 16.
122. PHZ, 2–3, 1929.
123. PHZ, 1, 1932, pp. 17.
124. Dionisije (1932b, pp. 1–5).
125. Pavlović (1994, pp. 31).
126. Dionisije (1932a, 7–8, p. 2).
127. Pravda, Avg. 30, 1932.
128. AY, Ministry of Religious Affairs KSCS, 69–3–3; Marinković (1933b,
pp. 1–3).
129. Pavlović (1994, pp. 79).
130. HZ (1934, 9–10, pp. 9–17).
131. Hrizostom (1991, pp. 229–253).
132. Subotić (1996, pp. 32–33).
133. Bremer (1997, pp. 121–122).
134. Hrizostom (1991, pp. 229–253).
135. PHZ (1927, 9–10, pp. 22), (1930, 11, pp. 13).
136. Archimandrite Dionisije stated in a text called ‘Vreme je…’ (PHZ, 2–3,
1929a) that there were about 96 Brotherhoods, while in ‘Reorganizacija
NHZ’ (PHZ, 5–6, 1929b) he stated that there were 105 fraternities.
137. Hrizostom (1991, pp. 229–253).
138. PHZ (1927, 1–2, pp. 26–28), Hrizostom (1991, pp. 229–253).
139. HZ (1934, pp. 24–28), HZ (1934, pp. 9–17), PHZ (1935, pp. 1).
140. F. A. (1937, pp. 5).
141. HZ (1934, 8, pp. 9).
142. Aleksov (2006, pp. 175).
143. Stefanović (1984, pp. 30–32), Byford (2006, pp. 163–192)
144. Tomasevich (2002, pp. 186).
145. Radić (2002, pp. II/131–132).
146. Ninković (2006, pp. 121–125).
147. ‘Bogomoljački pokret…’ http://www.rastko.rs/svecovek/zajednice/
index.html (July 24, 2014)
148. Radić (2002, pp. II/648).
References
Archival Sources
Archive of Serbian Orthodox Church (ASOC).
Military Archives of the Ministry of Defence of the Republic of Serbia (MA).
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306–311.
CHAPTER 9
The Influence of the God Worshipper

Movement on the Language Policy
and Religious Service of the Serbian
Orthodox Church
Ksenija J. Končarević
Numerous studies have been written about the language of religious

services in the Serbian Orthodox Church. The genres of these texts

range from official reports and popular newspaper articles to more seri-
ous scientific investigations. In terms of their approach to the issue,
they can be divided into (a) texts which consider the issue of liturgi-
cal language in terms of the revitalisation and promotion of ecclesiasti-
cal life, (b) texts which relate this issue to broader political, cultural, and
The chapter was written within the project ‘Serbian theology in the twentieth
century: the basic hypotheses of theological disciplines in the European
context—historical and modern perspectives’, funded by the Ministry of
Education, Science, and Technological Development of the Republic of Serbia
(project record number OI 179078).
K.J. Končarević (*) 
Faculty of Philology, University of Belgrade, Belgrade, Serbia

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_9
174 K.J. KONČAREVIĆ
historical contexts, and (c) texts limited predominantly to philological

aspects. Discussions on liturgical language have been published in the
journals of the Church, in theological, cultural, and political periodicals,
in comprehensive monographs, and in separate brochures.1
Let us first look at several of the oldest reports and polemical arti-
cles which suggest that there was a demand for the introduction of the
Serbian language into the religious service. ‘Our privation in the church
is vast, since neither the big nor the small ones have prayers’, said Dr.
Konstantin Peičić, the president of the Pančevo ecclesiastical and educa-
tional municipality back in 1869. ‘In order not to remain unfruitful, the
prayer should first be understood by those who want to pray to God, and
they should understand its words and its meaning (…) Therefore, the
prayer should be comprehended by he who prays and grasped and felt
in his heart’.2 After contrasting people reading Church Slavonic prayers
‘without understanding and pious emotions’ on the one hand and the
comfort derived from a prayer carried out in one’s own language on the
other, Peičić independently undertook the composition of prayers to be
used by his children at various times and for various needs. He then pub-
lished these prayers. According to the composer’s confession, the prayers
in the vernacular accomplished their objective: ‘When a child begins his
Serbian prayer, his entire countenance transforms and he becomes seri-
ous in his worship now and at all times, so that each feature reflects his
devotion’.3 However, an impartial reader will notice that, despite the
proclaimed principle of full comprehensibility, Peičić retained plenty of
Church Slavonic words in the texts of his prayers.4
The need to revive the religious lives of the people, and supposing
that a change to liturgical language would be one of the means for fulfill-
ing this aim, represented one of the incentives for introducing Serbian
into religious services. Peičić, a passionate advocate of transferring the
vernacular into the religious service, describes the disadvantageous reli-
gious condition of the people: ‘Unfortunately, churches have remained
empty and the people untamed, stupid and cruel; the clergy are pro-
faned, though by no fault of its own, deprived of the nimbus, I could
say deserted and despised; prayers are mechanical, pompous, made out of
duty, and have a sense of longevity which is boring for everybody, both
the clergy and the Christians’.5 The author underlines that the liturgi-
cal language is one of the basic causes for the superficial fulfilment of
Christian ‘ceremonial duties’. Bogdan Kuzmanović, a priest in Srpska
Klarija, wrote a brochure entirely dedicated to the proposal to introduce
9 THE INFLUENCE OF THE GOD WORSHIPPER … 175
the vernacular into religious services: ‘The conscious part of the people
already feel patriotic despair upon seeing that their church uses purely
dead forms not understood by people. This prevents all spiritual enthu-
siasm in the people and thus buries living people in superstition and a
lack of morals, so that everything moral, both religious and material, is
ruined everywhere’.6
The historiographical literature states that the issue of liturgical lan-
guage in each era corresponded closely with contemporary political and
cultural circumstances, public opinion (particularly in terms of rising
national consciousness and the relationship with Russia, which ranged
from Russophilia to disappointment), and the position of the Church
(the flourishing or weakening of religious life and arguments over
reforms of the Church). However, the activities of other religious com-
munities and those movements that emerged spontaneously among the
Orthodox Serbs have not yet been defined as crucial factors in promot-
ing Serbian as the service language of the Serbian Orthodox Church and
in stimulating authentic paraliturgical and liturgical creativity in the lan-
guage understood by most believers. This chapter intends to throw light
on the influence of religious renewal movements on the language poli-
cies of the Serbian Orthodox Church, which has been researched insuf-
ficiently in previous years.
It is no coincidence that initiatives for replacing the Russian variant
of Old Church Slavonic in Orthodox religious services with either the
Serbian variant or modern Serbian appeared first in the metropolitanate
of Karlovci in the late 1860s and early 1870s. This period was marked
by disillusionment at the abolition of the Serbian Vojvodina, a more
intense struggle for ecclesiastical and educational autonomy, and con-
flicts between Svetozar Miletić and Jovan Subotić on the one hand and
Patriarch Samuil Maširević and the hierarchy on the other about the par-
ticipation of laymen in church life.7 We should certainly add the abate-
ment of enthusiasm for the Russians, particularly after the Polish uprising
of 1863, and exposure to modern religious, cultural, political, and social
trends coming from the West. These religious trends were (a) the litur-
gical renewal movement within the Roman Catholic Church and (b)
the impact of Protestant communities, which will be discussed later in
the text.
In Serbia, the issue of liturgical language was raised intensively in
the late 1880s, no doubt in response to the ecstatic mood follow-
ing the establishment of the Serbian Church’s autocephaly (1879) and
the atmosphere of crisis after the conflict of the pro-Russian and pan-
Slavic Metropolitan Mihailo Jovanović with the Progressive govern-
ment. This conflict resulted in the overthrow of the metropolitan and
the uncanonical and illicit establishment of ‘the new hierarchy’ loyal to
the authorities, which governed the Church from 1883 to 1889.8 Thus,
it is not surprising that the initiative for changing the language of the
Orthodox religious service (constituted as a return to the Serbian recen-
sion) was launched by Milan Kujundžić, the minister of education and
Church affairs, in an open letter to Teodosije Mraović, the archbishop
of Belgrade and metropolitan of Serbia. Kujundžić argued for broad
Church reform to emphasise the national element (thus, he suggested
reassessing the celebration of Sveti prosijali in local churches and plac-
ing particular emphasis on the national saints). Certainly influenced by
the prevailing sentiment towards Russia, the minister aspired to force
the Russian recension of Church Slavonic out of the service as soon as
possible. He suggested severely restrictive measures: after returning the
Serbian recension to canon law and liturgical books, Serbian priests were
to be forbidden to perform church rituals using the Russian variant or
to sell and ‘spread’ them throughout Serbia. This suggestion provoked
arguments for and against the Serbian variant of the Slavonic language.
Ideas about using the vernacular in the liturgy appeared in Serbia con-
siderably later than in Vojvodina, a fact which was due to fewer con-
tacts with the Roman Catholic Church, fewer distinctive activities by
Protestant communities, and the later formation of autochthonous reli-
gious renewal movements in central Serbia.
The need to overcome the gap between archaic service expressions
and believers’ comprehension, along with the desirability of removing
several other anomalies in church life, resulted in a new phenomenon
in the Roman Catholic Church in the nineteenth century: the birth of
the liturgical renewal movement. Although it never represented a for-
mal organisation, this movement actively and with considerable success
argued for official institutional interventions into liturgical life in order
to alter, restructure, arrange, and reformulate expressions in the ser-
vice.9 The liturgical movement arose around 1830, and some of its most
prominent advocates formed their position in relation to the issue of ser-
vice language (Dom Prosper Guéranger, Dom Lambert Beauduin).10
However, the actions of Protestant communities must have had a con-
siderably greater influence on awareness of the need to introduce the
national language into religious services. There are several reasons for
this. The ideas of the Catholic liturgical movement in the South Slavic
regions did not result in practical results which would inspire Serbian
people to transfer them into the Orthodox milieu, while the Protestant
communities were more successful in their missionary activities among
the Serbian people. Thus, religious services in the vernacular (reading
the Holy Scripture, singing sacred songs, and publishing literature in
Serbian) began spontaneously entering the Orthodox milieu.
In the South Slavic countries, Protestantism had begun to spread back
in the sixteenth century, first among the non-Slavic population and then
among the Slavs themselves. The cultural, literary, and linguistic influ-
ences of the Protestants were first noticeable in Slovenia, where the
Lutheran Primož Trubar (1508–1586) performed an impressive feat
of translation and editing when he rendered the Bible into Slovenian,
wrote the Catechismus and an orthography, and published approximately
30 books in Slovenian and the ‘Croatian-Istrian’ and ‘coastal’ dialects.
His work inspired Juraj Dalmatin to translate the Holy Scriptures. Until
modern times, Dalmatin’s Bible continued to be used in the Roman
Catholic liturgy in Slovenia; owing to it, ‘the small Slovenian nation
obtained the confirmation and reason for existence’.11
Another significant centre of Protestantism among the South Slavs
was Vojvodina and southern Hungary, particularly following the ‘the
patent of toleration’ issued by Joseph II in 1781. In Serbia, the activi-
ties of Protestant communities became legal in 1853, when the Decree
on Religious Denominations was passed. The Serbian population was
approached by the Nazarenes (from 1872), the Baptists (1882), and the
Adventists (from 1890).12
The Nazarenes started their activities in the South Slavic coun-
tries in 1871, beginning in the Vojvodina. According to statistical
data from 1998, the Serbs were the largest national contingent among
the Nazarenes (approximately 45%), followed by the Hungarians, the
Romanians, and a small number of Danube Swabians. In Serbia, the
Nazarenes first organised themselves in Obrenovac (1872): in Belgrade,
their first activities took place in 1881 (gatherings and ‘several night
houses of prayer’, followed by the nearly free distribution of Holy
Scripture and books published by the Bible Society). As early as 1888,
they built a prayer house in Vračar, and a year later, they were detected in
Kragujevac. Socially, they were mainly from the lower social classes and
originated largely in the Srem district, the Banat, Bosanska Krajina, and
Slavonia.13
According to Đ. Slijepčević, a renowned historian of the Serbian

Church, the successful expansion of the Nazarenes was enabled by ‘the
religious indifference of the leading classes concerning cultural, scientific,
political and social life’, the dissonance between the ideas of the Church
and the state, the carelessness of the clergy, and harmful political strug-
gles between the upper echelons of the hierarchy and the political repre-
sentatives of the people.14
The Nazarene service was performed on Sundays (and in some areas
on Thursdays) in places of worship and consisted of reading extracts
from the Bible, offering prayers, and singing psalms and sacred songs,
all of which was followed by the catechism: everything was done in the
vernacular.15 The Nazarenes published (and are still publishing) a hym-
nal entitled Harfa Siona (Zion’s Harp): it was translated into Serbian by
Jovan Jovanović Zmaj, which significantly contributed to the popularity
not only of this hymnal,16 but also of the entire Nazarene community.
‘Despite all the negative effects’, says Slijepčević, ‘Nazarene activi-
ties had one substantial merit: they developed the habit of reading the
Holy Scripture among our peasants, which was not the case until that
moment’.17 The reason for this was the fact that the Nazarenes derived
their doctrines and moral norms from the Holy Scriptures, which were
correctly interpreted by the elders. The Baptists also insisted on a daily
reading of the Scriptures with comprehension and devotion so that they
could form the basis of morality, character, and attitudes.
The Adventists in particular insisted on the promotion of the vernacu-
lar in religious services and theology. As early as 1883, they founded the
Society for Translating, Printing, and Propagating Adventist Literature
in Veliki Bečkerek, while preaching in Serbian began in Kumane (in the
Banat) by Petar Todor. Owing to this missionary work, local Adventist
churches were formed in Titel, Novo Miloševo, and Mokrin in 1906, in
Kikinda in 1907, in Belgrade and Novi Kneževac in 1909, and in Zemun
in 1910.
Representatives of the people demanded that the religious service be
served in the living vernacular and submitted their appeals to the Church
hierarchy (for instance, the decisions of the national assembly in the
Timişoara diocese in 1905 and 1906): the Holy Assembly of Bishops
of the Serbian Orthodox Church decided to provisionally accept such
a possibility in Serbia in 1903.18 While the significant interest in this
issue did not dominate the twentieth century, the new circumstances
that befell the Serbian Orthodox Church following the reunion (1920)
incited its revival. These new circumstances were characterised by the

flourishing of cultural life, the renewal of monasticism, and the theo-
logical education of the youth, and especially the activities of the God
Worshipper movement.
‘The movement of the pious’, as an authentic expression of Serbian
piety, emerged in the Banat immediately after the uprising of 1848 and
soon spread throughout the metropolitanate of Karlovci. It was already
common for men and women to gather at individuals’ houses to read
the Holy Scripture and sing sacred songs.19 Following the wars of 1876–
1877, ‘the movement of the pious’ rapidly expanded throughout south-
east Serbia: after the First World War, it encompassed central Serbia.20
Its future was decisively influenced by Nikolaj Velimirović, the bishop of
Ohrid and Žiča, who remained the leader of the movement for 20 years
(1921–1941). Under his influence, the autochthonous brotherhoods
started to unify, which led all national Christian communities to establish
an integrated movement whose aim was further struggle for the spiritual
and moral renewal of the Serbian people.21 According to Bishop Nikolaj,
the movement represented ‘the response of the people to modernism,
liberalism, socialism and other modern novelties which were not under-
stood or accepted by the pious Orthodox population’.22 Archimandrite
Justin Popović indicated that the religious enthusiasm and eagerness of
its members were the greatest advantages of the God Worshipper move-
ment. However, he mentioned certain controversial points in its activi-
ties, arguing that it was necessary to ‘anchor the God Worshipper zeal in
the depths of the Orthodox holy fathers’ wisdom, blessed contemplation
of God and ascetic activities’.23 This was realised by pronouncing Bishop
Nikolaj Velimirović the leader of the movement.
The central office of the movement was in Kragujevac. It had a print-
ing office donated by Mihailo Pupin. The members of the movement
did their best to and popularise religious life. In order to enable fur-
ther successful expansion of the movement’s ideas, the first big assem-
bly of the People’s Christian Community was held in Kragujevac in
1921, where other religious associations were invited: Christian Youth
Community, Women’s Christian Movement, etc. In the same year, the
Rules of the People’s Christian Community were adopted with the bless-
ing of Patriarch Dimitrije.24 In addition to Bishop Nikolaj, Dragoljub
Milivojević—the later Bishop Dionisije—had a significant role in the
movement’s organisation. Former God Worshippers and later monks
Jovan Rapajić, Mihailo Đusić, Jakov Arsović, Rafailo Topalović, and
Gavrilo Dimitrijević were extremely prominent in spreading the move-

ment’s ideas25; as well as laymen Jovan Saračević and Dragi Miletić.26
The movement aspired to spread its ideas and organisational units—
brotherhoods and communities—among the people as much as possible.
Therefore, they organised ‘big God Worshipper assemblies’. The monas-
teries where these assemblies were held had the most significant role in
expanding and exchanging the traditions of the God Worshipper poetry
work (big assemblies—Drača in 1926, Petkovica in 1931 and regional, in
a number of monasteries). Bishop Nikolaj wrote that people from vari-
ous areas gathered at the God Worshipper assemblies: from the Banat,
Bačka, Slavonia, Srem, central Serbia, and Bosnia. Each assembly had a
defined order of activities—liturgies, prayers, confessions, communions,
singing of sacred songs, moralities, sermons, and reporting of the broth-
erhoods.27 At these assemblies, sacred songs were chanted deep into the
night.28
The third and fourth decade of the twentieth century brought numer-
ous debates and articles on the topic of the service language in periodi-
cal publications. This topic also interested the authors of monographs
about church reforms. ‘Our church should be more nationalized’, stated
Archimandrite Dr. Petronije Trbojević, the prior of the monastery of
Šišatovac, in a chapter dedicated to introducing the vernacular in the reli-
gious service. ‘Then the nation’s soul will burn brightly in the piety and
embrace the sacred Orthodox Faith. The Church will be full, and spirit-
ual serenity, attentiveness, piety and eagerness will replace the gloom and
boredom seen on the faces of the people present in the church today’.29
This author gave evidence about the experience of his contemporaries:
‘There were a lot of supporters of the vernacular in the religious service,
and in several churches I was offered copybooks written by pen or pencil,
Light, etc.’30 D. Čonić pointed out that since 1916, the prayers had been
from which to read the Creed, Lord’s Prayer, Vouchsafe O Lord, O Joyful
read before and after the communion, that the hymn of the Cherubin
was chanted in the vernacular in the eparchy of Vršac, that the Trinity
service had been served in Serbian in Veliki Bečkerek and Novi Sad in
1925, that the Easter canon was served via St. Kaćanski’s translation in
Orlovat, and that prayers before holy communion were already being
read in modern Serbian in churches throughout Belgrade, Serbia, and
Bosnia.31 The oldest record of a religious service in the vernacular comes
from the writings of Stojan Novaković: ‘It has been already twenty five
years (around 1865, our comment) since in Šabac the late Bishop Gavrilo
told me about the idea of translating church books into Serbian. (…)
In those times, Bishop Gavrilo gave orders that the Easter gospel in the
church of Šabac was to be read according to Vuk’s translation, which was
rare and very daring; if I recall correctly, the bishop himself read it. Since
the late bishop translated beautifully, he was undoubedly driven to invest
his talent in this audacious assignment’.32
The atmosphere in the 1920s and 1930s provoked translating activi-
ties as well as changes in the religious service. Chronologically speaking,
it was Dr. Irinej Ćirić (1884–1955), the bishop of Bačka, who first trans-
lated service texts into modern Serbian. He was a talented librarian of
the patriarchal library in Sremski Karlovci: he had studied theology at the
Moscow Theological Academy and obtained a Ph.D. from the faculty of
philosophy in Vienna. Later, he was an assistant professor, associate pro-
fessor, and full professor at the Theological School in Sremski Karlovci
(in his time, it had the rank of a faculty); he had mastery of Hebrew,
Greek, Latin, French, Russian, German, and Hungarian. He began pub-
lishing his translations of religious service texts as early as 1907 in the
journal Bogoslovski glasnik (Theological Herald), where, in the course of
two years, he published the translations of 43 psalms used in the daily
religious service. After 1909, he started publishing translations of prov-
erbs, troparions, hymns, and the complete service for Pentecost Sunday
(making a total of 38 translations). Among his shorter translations to
appear in church periodicals, there were nine prayer books (published
from 1922 to 1943) and 50 hymns, irmoses, Troparions, kotakions,
and chanted during the cycle of the weekly divine service (1936–1942).
Credit is due to Bishop Irinej Ćirić for the first translated religious ser-
vice books in Serbian: Večernje molitve (Evening prayers), Novi Sad,
1922 (includes the Ninth-hour, Vespers, Small and Great Complines);
Služba Mesopusne nedelje (Meat fare Sunday sermon), Sremski Karlovci,
1925; and Večernja služba u Nedelju svete Pedesetnice (Pentecost Sunday
Evening Sermon), Novi Sad, 1928. His most significant translating
enterprise is undoubtedly the book Nedelja svete Pedesetnice. Praznične
službe (Pentecost Sunday. Holiday Sermon), Uvjidek, 1942, where he
included all orders and unalterable parts of the following sermons: the
Ninth Hour; the Small Vespers ceremony; the Great Vespers ceremony
for holy days; the Small Compline; the ceremony of the Sunday mid-
night service; the early morning ceremony for holy days; the First, Third,
and Sixth Hour of the Divine Office; and the Liturgy (‘The Order of
the Divine and Clerical Liturgy, as it is in the Great Church and Holy
Mount Athos’). The complete daily cycle of the religious service, the
holy day all-night Vigils, and the Divine Liturgy of St John Chrystostom
became available to the Serbian religious community thanks to this trans-
lation. Arhijerejska Liturgija po beleškama blaženopočivšeg episkopa Irineja
Ćirića, uz komentare episkopa raško-prizrenskog Pavla (The Episcopal
Religious service according to the notes of the departed Bishop Irinej Ćirić,
with comments of Pavle, the Bishop of Raška and Prizren) was published
posthumously in Glasnik (The Official Gazette of the SOC, 1972, no.7,
171–184). It should be noted that the translations of Bishop Irinej Ćirić
were accompanied by numerous philological and liturgical comments.33
One of the first people to try and translate the sacred texts was the
educated priest Dr. Lazar Mirković, a liturgist and historian of church
art shaped in the tradition of Karlovci theology: he published a brochure
named Akatist Presvetoj Bogorodici (The Akathist to the Most Holy Mother
of God) in 1918.
The most significant translator of liturgical texts into Serbian was
Hierodeacon (later Archimandrite) Justin Popović, Ph.D. He started
his activity with the first integrated translation of the divine service of
St John Chrystostom (Belgrade, 1922) and continued it with a series of
comprehensive service books. Let us now name some of his translations
(he also translated the works of the Holy Fathers, hagiographies, monas-
tic typikons, etc.):Veliki trebnik (The Great Euchologion), Prizren, 1993
(this translation was finished back in 1958, but there was no opportu-
nity to print it; a few typescript copies were used in the monastery of
Ćelije and some priests who were followers of Father Justin); Služebnik
na srpskom jeziku (The Book of Prayers in the Serbian language), the mon-
astery of Krka, 1967 (typescript)—the translation from 1922 edited
by Hieromonk Artemije Radosavljević; Božanstvene Liturgije (Divine
Liturgies), Belgrade, 1978; Mali molitvenik (Small Prayer Book), the
monastery of Ćelije, Valjevo, 1982; and Molitvenik—Kanonik (Prayer
Book—Canon), the monastery of Ćelije, Valjevo, 1991. In addition,
Hegumen Justin translated akathists, canons, and prayers (his translations
of akathists were collected in the Complete Works, volume 5, Belgrade,
1999).
In the period between the two world wars, popular bilingual pub-
lications appeared, such as the one edited by Živan M. Marinković,
Božanstvena Liturgija sv. Jovana Zlatoustog: sa prevodom, objašnjenjima
i uputstvom za crkvenoslovensko čitanje. Za školsku upotrebu i narod (The
Divine Service of St John Chrystostom: with translation, explanations and
instructions for reading the Church Slavonic language. For use by schools
and the people), Belgrade, 1929. Petar T. Trbojević also offered a trans-
lation of the Divine Service of St John Chrystostom (Novi Sad, 1939),
but it remained (rightfully) overshadowed by the translations of Justin
Popović and Irinej Ćirić.
In the post-war period, the problem of the service language was more
thoroughly considered from the early 1960s, when the Church started
consolidating itself after the severe blows delivered to it in the campaign
of aggressive atheisation and denationalisation: during this era, it began
making efforts to revive religious life (expanding its publishing activities,
the improvement of theological education, etc.). The first specific deci-
sions about the possibilities and limitations of introducing the vernacu-
lar in the religious service were made by the highest Church legislative
authorities: the groundwork for this had been laid, as mentioned above,
by translating a particular corpus of liturgical texts from Church Slavonic
and Greek.
The report of Dr Damaskin Grdanički, the metropolitan of Zagreb,
to the Holy Eparchial Synod and Assembly in 1962 and the following
decision of the Synod in 1964 represented the basis for introducing
Serbian into the religious service of the SOC while maintaining tradi-
tional Church Slavonic expressions. The basic argument of Metropolitan
Damaskin for this move was the incomprehensibility of the traditional
language. After stating that ‘our living Serbian language is completely
distant from Church Slavonic, despite the fact that numerous words
from both languages have the same root’, the author wrote: ‘Therefore
our current service language is incomprehensible to the flock, and
even to priests to some extent. As such, it is unable to fulfil its objec-
tive, that is, to be contemporary man’s means to reach the depths of
our faith’s secret (…) and to help him to express his religious feelings
and thoughts’.34 Metropolitan Damaskin added that Serbian had been
occasionally used by Bishops Gavrilo Zmejanović, Georgije Letić, and
Irinej Ćirić, and Patriarch Varnava (Rosić) ‘at the Thanksgiving Service’:
he also noted that the Gospel was read in Serbian at Easter and on
Thursday of the Passion Week in a number of churches, that the com-
plete religious service was served in Serbian in some churches, and that
Bishop Nikolaj had created original religious poetry in the vernacu-
lar.35 This indicates that the liturgical and paraliturgical works which
emerged within the God Worshipper movement influenced the decision
to accept Serbian as the service language. However, was this decision of
the highest authorities of the SOC inspired by the activities of other reli-
gious renewal movements of the time? We are of the opinion that it was
influenced by the following: (a) the liturgical movement in the Roman
Catholic Church, (b) renewal movements in the Orthodox Church, and
(c) Protestant communities in Serbia.
In the West, the liturgical movement started growing vigorously from
1947, when the encyclic Mediator Dei was published, to the Second
Vatican Council in 1963, whose decisions reached their highest theo-
logical expression in The Constitution on the Sacred Religious Service
(Constitutio de sacra liturgia),36 which related the complete affirmation
in the liturgical doctrine and practices of the Roman Catholic Church.37
The appearance of the liturgical movement in the Orthodox Church is
generally related to Russian emigrant theologians (Fr Sergei Bulgakov,
Fr Nikolay Afanasiev, B. I. Sove, Fr Alexander Schmemann, etc.). In the
East, the most comprehensively organised institutional effort to con-
duct liturgical reform, including renovation of the service language (by
interventions into the lexis, syntax, and morphology of Church Slavonic)
occurred at the Local Assembly of the Russian Orthodox Church in
1917–1918.38 However, these efforts did not find a response in Serbia,
partly due to the isolation of the Church in Soviet Russia and partly due
to the unfinished language reform. However, the Greek example proved
more influential. The members of brotherhoods Zoe and Soter went to
a lot of effort to revive sermons, spread religious literature, found asso-
ciations for the school and university youth, assemble the intelligentsia,
popularise spiritual songs, and advocate more frequent taking of the
Eucharist. Their strategy was reflected in ‘The Plan for Reorganisation
of the Church of Greece’, prepared by Archbishop Ieronymos after
having been elected archbishop of Athens (1967). These trends from
Greece reached Serbia through monks who attended postgradu-
ate studies in Athens in the 1960s and 70s, such as the future Bishops
Pavle Stojčević, Amfilohije Radović, Atanasije Jevtić, Irinej Bulović, and
Artemije Radosavljević. Finally, it should be mentioned that, with the
abatement of militant atheism in the 1960s, the Protestant communi-
ties were fervently active in their attempts to win over followers, organ-
ise religious meetings and assemblies, publish, and open prayer houses.
Their missionary activities, as well as the divine service, were performed
in the contemporary language with methods which had particular success
among the young (musical activities) and the general population (going
from house to house).39
The decision to introduce Serbian into the religious service increased

translation activities.40 The appearance of a great number of shorter
prayers written in modern Serbian in prayer books for everyday use led
to the rapid acceptance of these prayers by the broadest possible range
of believers (these were mostly by Hegumen Justin and Bishop Nikolaj).
The short poems of Bishop Nikolaj Velimirović became immensely popu-
lar, particularly among the members of the God Worshipper movement.
These poems were originally intended to popularise the basic principles
of Christianity and celebrate Church holidays, but they gradually became
part of the divine service as an optional element, most often as pričasten
(communion songs).41 It is interesting that Bishop Nikolaj’s numerous
hymnographic works were never widely used, which may be down to
ideological reasons.
Among these works, there is only one written in Church Slavonic—
Kanon Presvjatoj Bogorodici Slovesnici (The Canon to the Most Holy
Mother of God).42 The following works were written in Serbian (with
certain archaic elements, mostly from the lexis of Church Slavonic).43
In addition, Bishop Nikolaj very poetically rendered Akatist Isusu
Sladčajšem (The Akathist to Our Sweetest Lord Jesus) (487–503), Akatist
Presvetoj Bogorodici (The Akathist to the Holy Virgin) (507–510), and the
funeral hymns of St John of Damascus (558–562). However, these were
not used officially, probably due to the parallel existence of prose transla-
tions by Justin Popović and Archpriest Lazar Mirković and the exagger-
ated folklorisation of the highly stylised akathist expressions in Nikolaj’s
renditions (he used the decasyllabic lines, rhyming schemes, and stylistic
devices characteristic of folk poetry).
From the above, it can be concluded that introducing the vernacular
into the religious service of the Serbian Orthodox Church and encour-
aging liturgical creativity in each era corresponded to the activities of
religious renewal movements in the immediate region and among the
Serbian people themselves. Awareness of the need to introduce the
national language into religious services from the 1870s to the First
World War was most influenced by the activities of the Protestant com-
munities in the Vojvodina and Serbia (primarily the Nazarenes and
Adventists), as well as by the movement of the pious which had been
founded spontaneously in the Banat following the Hungarian Revolution
of 1848. After the First World War, the God Worshipper movement,
guided by Bishop Nikolaj Velimirović, had a dominant role in promot-
ing the vernacular, while the translations of distinguished priests and
bishops were similarly significant (the work of Lazar Marković, Justin

Popović, and Irinej Ćirić). From the 1960s, the liturgical renewal move-
ment in the Roman Catholic Church, the Greek renewal movements
Zoe and Soter, and the Protestant communities all had a significant influ-
ence. Thus, in the span of a century, beginning with the first reports
and polemical texts, the introduction of Serbian into religious services
was finally established by the official decision of 1964. This resulted in a
comprehensive corpus of translated texts and authentic liturgical and par-
aliturgical works in Serbian.
Notes
1. For a more comprehensive review, see: Končarević (2006, p. 463).
2. Orthography and punctuation are cited according to the original texts.
3. Peičić (1869, pp. 13).
4. Ibid., p. 15.
5. Ibid., pp. 16–17.
6. Kuzmanović (1872, p. 4).
7. Slijepčević (1991, pp. 168–196).
8. Ibid., pp. 312–324; 381–415.
9. Vukašinović (2001, pp. 7–10).
10. Ibid., pp. 39, 57, 60.
11. Branković (2011, pp. 36–38).
12. Ibid., p. 41; Kuburić (2010, pp. 192–194).
13. Slijepčević (1943, pp. 13–33).
14. Ibid., pp. 5–11.
15. Slijepčević (1943, p. 42).
16. This hymnal was distributed in 12,000 copies on the territory of the met-
ropolitanate of Karlovci before 1899.
17. Slijepčević (1943, p. 11).
18. (Čonić 1927, p. 292; Grdanički 1963, p. 264).
19. Vojinović (1991, p. 229).
20. Vladimir Dvorniković also discusses the appearance of the God
Worshipper movement. Although he believed that the Serbian people did
not offer suitable soil for religious movements, Dvorniković identified
particular resistance to the official Church in the God Worshipper move-
ment. According to this author, the most radical Nazarenes were those in
Vojvodina, who appeared to be under the influence of Calvinism, while
the inhabitants in the south of Serbia were least interested in this phe-
nomenon. (Dvorniković 1990, p. 972; Vojinović 1991, p. 230).
21. Subotić (1996, p. 12).
22. Ibid., p. 15.
23. Dimitrijević (2002, p. 78).
24. Subotić (1996, p. 33).
25. Radosavljević (2002, p. 212) for more detail and extracts, see: Dimitrijević
(2002, pp. 87–170).
26. See their writings in: Dimitrijević (2002, pp. 267–302).
27. For a thorough record from such an assembly written by Bishop Nikolaj,
see: Dimitrijević (2002, pp. 61–75).
28. Velimirović (1997, pp. 69, 95, 164).
29. Trbojević (1931, p. 27).
Čonić (1927, pp. 291–292).

30. Ibid., p. 25.
31.
32. Novaković (1889, p. 88).
33. For a bibliographical review of the translations of Bishop Irinej Ćirić, see:
Ubiparipović (2010, pp. 111–124).
34. Grdanički (1963, p. 259).
35. Ibid., p. 264.
36. Vukašinović (2001, pp. 39, 57, 60, 87–94).
37. Ibid., pp. 11–104.
38. Končarević (2006, pp. 355–380).
39. Branković (2011, pp. 205–215).
Čarnić 1976; Psaltir 1977; Parimije 1980; Apostol 1981; Trebnik 1983;
40. Some of the most significant translations were made by Damaskin (1975),
Veliki kanon sv. Andrije Kritskog 1984 and Časoslov 1986, Matejić 1992;
ustanova 2006; Jevtić 2000; Parimejnik 2000; Časoslov 2007 (it was used
Stolić 1996; Liturgija svetoga apostola Marka 1998; Liturgija Apostolskih
until the appearance of the new official translation of the SAS Committee
of the SOC); Božanstvena Liturgija svetog apostola Jakova brata Božijeg
i prvog episkopa jerusalimskog 2007; and Radosavljević 2008). However,
the synodal publications of the translations of the service books were
most broadly used: (Evanđelje na srpskom jeziku za bogoslužbenu upotrebu
1977; Služebnik 1986; Služebnik 1998; Služebnik 2007; and Sveštena
knjiga Apostol. tekstovi apostolskih čitanja, 2011). Bishop Hristozom
Stolić made a significant contribution to editing and publishing the ser-
vice books in Serbian: 2003, 2005, and 2006 (the services in Serbian
are included in the text of the Menaion, which is dominantly written in
Church Slavonic).
41. Ašković et al. (2012, pp. 95–114).
42. Velimirović (1997, pp. 761–766).
43. Kanon mučenicima, pp. 205–209, Kanon stradanju Hristovom,
Bogorodici Javljenici, pp. 550–552, Kanon uz Časni post, pp. 572–580,

pp. 162–166, Mali kanon Bogojavljenju, pp. 542–547, Mali kanon Presvetoj
Ljubostinjski kanon Bogorodici—Carici tišine, pp. 730–734, Akatist svetoj

velikomučenici Varvari, pp. 223–229, numerous episcopal penitential and
antiphontroparions and hymns for the holy days dedicated to God, the
Mother of God, and the saints (107–186), as well as for more developed
services—Krsni moleban Hristu spasitelju naroda srpskog u vreme našestvija
inoplemenika, pp. 681–688 and Služba novomučenicima srpskim, sedam-
sto tisuća na broj, postradalim za veru pravoslavnu i srpsko ime od ustaša u
Drugom svetskom ratu, pp. 689–713.
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Vukašinović‚ V. 2001. Liturgijska obnova u XX veku. Beograd: Bogoslovski
fakultet SPC, Novi Sad: Beseda‚ Vršac: Fideb.
CHAPTER 10
The Prayer Chanting

Dragan Ašković
The political changes and military conflicts which the Serbian people
endured at the beginning of the twentieth century preceded important
changes in various spheres of life. The constitution of a single com-
mon state, an important historical and political accomplishment, posed
new challenges to the Serbs. At the same time, unusually pious people
started appearing. They were conspicuous because they regularly ful-
filled their religious obligations. They loved talking about the Gospels,
and they were extremely compassionate and dedicated to their fellow
men. Since their lives were rich in repentance and extremely intensive
and fervent prayer, they became known as bogomoljci (literally the ‘God
Worshippers’).1 Apart from the worthy memory of the God Worshippers,
which still lives on in the minds of devout Serbians today, the only other
‘discernible’ traces they left behind are their poetical works, known as
God Worshipper hymns. Since there almost no organised brotherhoods
of God Worshippers left today, their only testament is their hymns,
whose divine inspiration allows them to live on.
D. Ašković (*) 
Faculty of Orthodox Theology, University of Belgrade, Belgrade, Serbia

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_10
192 D. AŠKOVIĆ
In order to comprehensively consider the appearance, development,

and impact of this movement in Serbia at the beginning of the twentieth
century, it is insufficient to rely solely on archival and historiographical
research. The appearance of the God Worshipper movement and their
chanting is a complex phenomenon. Immediately prior to the emergence
of the movement, Europe was torn apart by various spiritual agitations.2
In addition to extremely important historical and political events, there
were repeated attempts to achieve unity among Christians. In contrast
to the numerous historical efforts to form a union,3 this occasion was
characterised by the desire to provide unity without a union, a ‘feder-
ation of all Christians into one holy nation, despite dogmatic obstacles
and confessional affiliation’.4 Where politics had failed, culture was now
tried.5 This is why this new type of religiosity was accompanied by the
appearance of hymns. This was appropriate to Serbian mentality, since
the Serbs appreciated and fostered poetry to an exceptional degree.
While the content of God Worshipper poetry was grounded in folklore
rather than historical facts, their hymns nevertheless represent a valuable
research subject, since they cherish and transfer the spirit of the times in
which they appeared. The reasons behind the appearance and develop-
ment of the movement were extremely complex, and nowadays only God
Worshipper hymns can bear witness to the nature of the movement, and
the spirit and feelings which it nurtured and conveyed.6
Jovan Dučić attributed the secret of Serbs’ Antaeus-like strength to the
Serbian village. According to him, history knows no other nation or state
as wholly rural as Serbia. Dučić regarded the village as the elementary and
the only source of the admirable and inexhaustible strength of the Serbs,
who created, perfected, improved, and spread their inspiring epic poems
through singing and playing the gusle.7 However, at the beginning of the
twentieth century, it was clear that Serbian religiosity had been reduced
to ritual formalism: it had become little more than baptisms, weddings,
funeral services, holy water, and cakes.8 This is why the God Worshippers
demonstrated such a high degree of poetic creativity: their hymns enabled
them to express an immediate and personal affirmation of religious zeal.
Inspired by centuries-long experience and memory, they started singing.
The only difference between their singing and Serbian medieval singing
was in terms of their themes: God Worshipper chanting had an explicit
religious, moral, and national content.9
The appearance of the God Worshipper movement and their chant-
ing is also related to the liturgical hymns used in churches, which had
10 THE PRAYER CHANTING OF THE GOD WORSHIPPER MOVEMENT 193
become almost entirely incomprehensible in the course of the previous

century. People could no longer relate to official liturgical poetry, which
had been developed in Greek long beforehand and had reached Serbia
in translation. As such, it lacked the elementary poetic delight found in
rhyming and symmetrical verses. It is insufficient to say that the God
Worshippers simply reacted to such a state. Having liberated themselves
from fear and prohibition, which admittedly was more implicit than
real, they started to spontaneously chant hymns. In doing so, the God
Worshippers essentially regenerated the spirit of original Christianity.
God Worshippers chanted in the vernacular, which required the use of
well-known folkloric principles. Popular folk melodies naturally became
part of this new religious musical genre. This is why the God Worshipper
community positioned itself against the existing ecclesiastic and religious
élite. The God Worshippers were a community of people equal in the
sight of God, a belief that had pronounced eschatological dimensions.
They felt that their religious mission in life could only be expressed via
poetry, since only this type of creativity assigned considerable significance
to linguistic fictions. No matter how authoritative official hymns were,
they increasingly emanated a feeling of uneasiness due to the profound
difference between the translations and the originals. Thus, the God
Worshippers began to enthusiastically produce and chant their hymns in
the vernacular.10 God Worshippers used the power of the spirit to chant,
which allowed their songs to inspire the masses more powerfully than
any sermon based on the rules of logic, rhetoric, or grammar.
At the beginning of the twentieth century, literacy was becoming
increasingly prevalent in Serbia. Therefore, these hymns were soon pub-
lished in a written form. This was extremely valuable for long poems
containing around 100 verses, since it was difficult to consign them to
memory. God Worshippers who loved chanting generally used their own
hand-written collections to memorise hymns better. This is how these
hymns were recorded later. As such, numerous printed hymnals are avail-
able today, all of which were developed by collecting and integrating the
hymns which numerous God Worshippers had written with their own
hands. The God Worshippers were famous for manuscripts that were
shabby, scruffy, worn out, and grease-stained from frequent use.
In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the most repre-
sentative type of reference book in Serbian education was the song book.
Following the example of secular poetry, the first God Worshipper hymn
collections were called Hymn Books or Sacred Lyres.11 They contained
194 D. AŠKOVIĆ
hymns that had previously been spread through word of mouth. These
hymns had only a modest literary form, with the romanticised emotions
common to folkloric tales: nonetheless, they contained sincere piety.
Thanks to these printed collections, God Worshippers hymns are
available today.12 They contain several hundred hymns, mostly written
by Bishop Nikolaj.13 In addition to his hymns, there are contributions
by unknown authors. This phenomenon is common in Christian crea-
tivity and is generally the consequence of certain virtues: love, tranquil-
lity of the mind, and modesty. Writing poems anonymously allowed for
unhindered expansion and improvement of the hymns. It was natural
for many God Worshippers to attempt to write hymns, since they were
always surrounded by such songs. However, although they tried to reach
the creative heights of Bishop Nikolaj, nobody managed to outshine
him. Besides good will and inspiration, a necessary condition for poetic
creativity was knowing a large number of existing hymns. Vuk Karadžić
noticed that only those who knew several dozen songs were able to cre-
ate their own hymns easily.14 In such cases, the author used the principle
of generality, which was dominated by traditionalism. God Worshipper
chanting was essentially based on oral experience, which allowed these
hymns to be altered and improved while being spread.
The themes of these poems could be national, historical, pastoral,
devotional, penitential, or ascetic: they often contained elements taken
from the Old and New Testaments. God Worshipper hymns exhibited
reverence for the Bible, as had been the case for the early Christians.15
Inspired by their example, God Worshippers expressed a Christian under-
standing and interpretation of biblical topics in their own language.
The lines of these hymns are brimming with morals, which is the conse-
quence of the movement’s distinct emphasis on morality.
Moralism is closely linked with national consciousness, given that at
the foundation of the nation is the Church, which is the only guaran-
tee of morality. When God Worshippers chant about Great, Holy, and
Heavenly Serbia, the land of glorious knights and saints, they are actually
sing about the Church, since only it can form a national community (see
e.g. 1).16 The God Worshippers did not equate the nation with the state,
which represented only a community of common interests confirmed by
the constitution and laws. Thus, they fervently chanted about Christian
moral values, which they considered to be ethical imperatives rather than
legal obligations.
Contrary to the spirit of the epic genre, which exhibited the bravery
of the hero over others, the ethos of the God Worshippers is character-
ised by an emphasis on heroism over one’s self. It is interesting that there
are no records of any God Worshipper activities in Montenegro. It would
be hard to imagine that a ‘movement of the pious’ could exist among
a people who constantly sang and remembered their epic past while
playing a gusle. Religious piety and penitential hymns could not inter-
est a Montenegrin, who was born and died with a gusle in his hands.
The Montenegrins spent their lives incessantly listening to singing, reviv-
ing, remembering, and spreading songs that converted their entire his-
tory and national consciousness into unforgettable verses. The nation
which generated the great poet Njegoš could not subject its poetry to
the form of hymns, which were more penitential and moral in character
than they were epic. These facts confirm that such a nation would rather
change its religion than its language and songs. This is reinforced by the
widespread conception that a great number of Serbs who accepted Islam
never ceased singing along to the gusle.
Even though the official Church devoted attention to God
Worshippers prior to the Second World War, numerous Church offi-
cials had reservations about them. Thus, official documents sent to the
bishops by the Holy Episcopal Synod contained demands for them to
undertake ‘active guidance and supervision in this movement’.17 On the
other hand, the Church sometimes assumed the support of the move-
ment, such as in the organisation of the welcome to be given to the
newly elected Bishop Venijamin when he arrived in Požarevac by train in
1934.18 The Church authorities were especially interested in the behav-
iour of the God Worshippers and their leaders: did they regularly attend
religious services and did they gather in the presence of priests were the
questions which exercised their attention.19
The hymns of the God Worshippers do not contain precise dogmatic
expressions. This is probably why Church officials regarded them as being
of lower value. This imperfection was compensated with various forms of
expression which conveyed a folk understanding of particular religious
doctrines.20 It looks as though God Worshippers avoided dealing with
high theology. In these hymns, the theme included in the verses was
emphasised at the expense of structural components. The hymns were
simple and melodic, which allowed them to be easily memorised and
spread.
196 D. AŠKOVIĆ
The most representative and popular God Worshipper hymn was

‘Help us, Supreme God’ (see e.g. 2). It is based on parallel rhymed octo-
syllabic verses, which are the most common verse in the Serbian folk
music tradition. This type of versification always contains the same cou-
plet, which is obligatorily sung at the beginning of all the stanzas in the
hymn. This represents the poetic homologous principle, which empha-
sises the message of the opening words of the verse. The initial verses
of the hymn are identical to the most common traditional greeting in
Serbia, which ‘invites’ God in. The verses of this hymn contain a sponta-
neous expression of national consciousness and the people’s relationship
towards God and the world. The most important aspirations of pious
Serbian people are listed in the hymn. It represents the essence of the life
of a Serbian peasant at the beginning of the twentieth century.
Bishop Nikolaj recognised splendidly the sincerity and power of the
folk piety in these hymns. He certainly received invaluable encourage-
ment from ‘Njegoš, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and ancient Indian philoso-
phy’.21 Because of his dedication to the simple, devout people, Bishop
Nikolaj was often slandered and accused of plotting with social undesir-
ables by certain Church officials. He replied that he plotted with peo-
ple invested with the Order of Karadjordje’s Star, who were honest and
hardworking, and who prayed while glancing towards the sky and won-
dering ‘what tomorrow was going to bring’.22 This way of life required
a specific belief in God as an omnipotent force, the only help in a cruel
and uncertain life. Such piety is manifested in the aforementioned hymn
‘Help us, Supreme God’. It was the most popular hymn among the God
Worshippers, and it served as their anthem. The content of its verses
indicates the ecstasy of authentic piety and the people’s aspiration to
renew creativity in the religious services of the Church.23 This song rep-
resents the specific offspring of literary folklore in the biblical tradition.
It unites religion with folklore and poetry with historiography and the
Bible.24 The content of this prayer-hymn underlines the observation that
the prayers of the Serbian people are often reduced to demands directed
to God.25 In contrast with this simple and sincere religious poetry, the
liturgical service is based on a complicated structure. In addition to
the incomprehensible Church Slavonic language, liturgical hymns are
chanted in prescribed and complex melodic patterns known as ‘Church
voices’. This incited the God Worshippers to persevere in the renova-
tion of religious and Church life. The simple Worshippers who ignored
everything but God and self-change were the most successful in organis-
ing and expanding the movement. It is precisely this willingness to attain
self-awareness and practise self-criticism that is the foundation of folk
piety. This readiness was not present in clericalised official piety because
it was based on learning. Self-awareness has always been the basis for
engaging in dialogue, and dialogue is a prerequisite of Christianity itself.
The highest authority in Christianity is the liturgy, which, on the model
of the ancient tragedy, is founded on dialogue. Through their faith and
prayer, the God Worshippers were rebuilding inviolable values whose
centre was man’s inimitable personality and dignity.
It was common for God Worshippers to regularly attend church ser-
vices. After the service, they would remain close to the church to praise
God together in the spirit of mutual prayer and to exchange their spirit-
ual experiences. Only after the religious service were they able to take the
initiative: God Worshipper gatherings in private homes were the most
interesting example of this. Although they resolutely claimed that they
belonged to the Church and that they respected the Church hierarchy,
only outside the churches could they freely reveal and fulfil their religious
needs. They gathered most frequently on Sunday afternoons and dur-
ing holidays, as well as on Sunday evenings and on saints’ days. Their
meetings did not have a prescribed order, although they shared common
characteristics. God Worshipper gatherings were meaningful, uniform,
and very dynamic. When coming together to pray, they entered a spa-
cious room full of icons, kissed the cross and the Gospel on the table,
and greeted everyone. They passed the censer with frankincense to the
leader, the oldest worshipper (known as the missionary).26 He would
perform the censing while praying out loud. Following the censing, eve-
rybody chanted certain Church hymns, usually those used in the liturgy.
This was followed by a reading from the Epistles and the Gospels: psalms
would be sung before concluding finally with It is Truly Met (Dostojno
jest). Then the sermon ensued. God Worshippers highly appreciated ser-
mons and those priests who enjoyed preaching. Indeed, the movement
arose as a reaction against the inertia of the clergy. If religious services
in a church did not include a sermon, they would hurry home to ‘fin-
ish’ the service and thus meet their religious needs.27 The most com-
mon hymn was Help us, Supreme God. God Worshipper gatherings used
to start with this hymn. It is generally known that religious poetry has
always been inseparable from ritual, both in ancient times and today.28
198 D. AŠKOVIĆ
Since the God Worshippers could not chant their hymns in church, it is
not surprising that they gathered in other places where their freedom was
not restrained by the presence of a priest or Church official.
At the gatherings, everybody had the unchallengeable right to speak,
witness, suggest, and be listened to. Each God Worshipper capable of
singing could express his or her talent and inspiration, either by chant-
ing or interpreting existing hymns written by others or by expressing his
own authentic creativity in the form of a chant. The verses of the follow-
ing hymns tell us about the significance of these gatherings to the God
Worshippers:
Dear brothers and sisters,

When we have gathered,
In this home now,
My dear brothers…29
The spontaneity during their gatherings provided the opportunity for

people to feel themselves as individual personalities, since a personal-
ity does not exist independently but occasionally appears within us, par-
ticularly during gatherings or holy days. The most useful condition
for the appearance of the personality is during artistic work: thus, God
Worshipper gatherings were accompanied by the chanting of hymns. In
addition, the gatherings provided the opportunity for inspired speeches.
The God Worshippers replaced the sermon and the arduous elements of
Church services with inspired speeches, which were not only remembered
but also transformed into hymns, thus ensuring their lasting existence.
God Worshippers expressed their needs in the verses of the hymns.
These were not only sacred in theme, but also bore a general character
related to everyday life. Their hymns also functioned as chanted prayers.
These were used to express their hopes and expectations. A lot of hymns
contained exact demands and expectations from God. The motives for
their emergence varied. A single sentence of an inspiring speech could
be sufficient for the creation of a hymn. Thus, for instance, one of the
numerous speeches by Bishop Nikolaj provoked the creation of the fol-
lowing hymn. Bishop Nikolaj began his speech with the words: ‘God
is close, my brothers, closer than the breath and sigh…’.30 The words
of this famous speech were eternalised as verses of a well-known hymn,
often chanted by God Worshippers with great enthusiasm: ‘God, you are
closer to us than our breath’ (God’s Closeness).31
God Worshipper speeches were based on personal experiences, inspira-

tion, and faith. They were not fulfilled by regulated religiosity. Official
belief based on learning provided rules or canons, which represented
only a prescribed pattern founded on a middle ground between conflict-
ing extremes: these rules had thus been created on the basis of human
experience and reason. This indicates that the official Church gave exces-
sive power to the human mind without foundation. What turned God
Worshipper gatherings into a congregation pervaded with liturgical and
tragic characteristics was charisma, the emotional inspiration of the com-
munity. Emotion is spiritual and therefore does not have a predictable or
established design. Therefore, the God Worshippers, as an eschatologi-
cal and charismatic community, were not desired by the institutionalised
Church. It wanted secure, predictable, and reliable members.
At the turn of the twentieth century, most Serbians were poor.32 This
deprived part of the population was devoted to the God Worshipper
movement, especially in the villages. This is why its hymns are dominated
by the belief that all the evils of the world are rooted in human greed
and selfishness. Early Christianity is known for these attitudes: they are
also present today and can be recognised among contemporary theolo-
gians.33 The following verses show how God Worshippers thought about
those who greedily strove to acquire wealth:
Happy is not the one who pleases his body,

Nor the one sitting on the throne.
Happy is not the one circled by courtiers,
Nor the one bowed and obediently served by people.
Happy is not the one who lives in gold,
Nor the one who builds a luxurious palace.
The one for whom the music, drums and organs play,
Or the one who lives in silk is not happy, either.
Happy are not the ones praised by people,
It is happiness only for minor spirits.34
These hymns offer various ways of singing about the tragedy resulting
from man’s attachment to mundane things. The following hymn, which
is based on a Gospel story, is dedicated to this topic:
A young man approached Jesus, bowing,

And asked him: What should I do, gentle Jesus?
200 D. AŠKOVIĆ
What should I do to gain eternal life,

What deed should I perform in order to enjoy?…
- There is one thing you need to improve yourself -
To give all your possessions to the poor.
So you can have the eternal life and heavenly dwelling.
On hearing this, the young man remained sorrowful.35
Their aspiration to impose the belief that only ‘God Almighty’ is the law-
ful owner of all goods signifies an invitation to everyone to use God’s
gifts solely for divine purposes. Hence the frequent invitation to place
the needs of one’s fellow man above personal wishes, as in the hymn
beginning with the lines:
‘A hungry man reaches his hand

For you to give him bread and ease his pain…’36
The God Worshippers were not economic or social reformers. Their

messages and invitations in such hymns represent the desperate cry of
those deprived of all rights and who have only their faith in God. These
conditions resulted in their motto: ‘What are wealth and earthly glory
worth’.37 The comfort which the wretched could only find in their trust
in God is expressed in the verses: ‘Jesus, you are the hope of the hungry
and the comfort of the thirsty’.38
This is why God Worshipper hymns attracted a broad swathe of the
Serbian population and easily crossed national, religious, and confes-
sional borders. The main objective of the movement was religious
revival: this was reflected in the hymns, which were used as one of the
means for spreading the ideas of the movement. The story of a God
Worshipper from Tuzla shows the extent to which these hymns capti-
vated the souls and hearts of devout people. This individual said that he
had frequently had the opportunity to hear ‘the Muslims chanting our
sacred songs at homes and in the fields’.39 Interreligious influences were
manifested in various other ways. Therefore, the same hymn in this musi-
cal genre can be recognised in both Serbian and Muslim traditions: the
verses differ, but the melodies are completely identical. This example
confirms the well-known creative technique of singing new verses to a
familiar melody. Thus, both Rabba traži i plači40 and the Macedonian
folk song Žali i gordej se are sung to the melody of the song S one strane
Plive.41
The value and uniqueness of these hymns are expressed in the readi-
ness of the God Worshippers to sing rather than in their musical or
poetic achievements. The manner in which hymns were created was not
extremely important to the God Worshippers. They created them accord-
ing to what they knew and felt. This is evident in the fact that Serbs,
Croats, and Muslims used the same melodies but with different verses.
These songs prove the rich folk heritage of Serbia, one which has been
developed throughout the course of the country’s history. This heritage
and experience give specific value to these hymns.42 Thus, any musical
improvement would be at odds with the religious identity of the God
Worshipper movement. Perhaps this is the reason why nothing of this
kind happened, at least to our knowledge. The situation with these songs
confirms the attitude of John Blacking, who says that music is the first
thing to appear in every civilisation, but the last to develop.43 Something
similar happened to these hymns, which are now sung by many in a new
and more modern way.
Since these are hymns which are drenched in religion and nationality,
any expectation that we might find recognisable Church and folklore ele-
ments is necessarily betrayed. On the basis of available God Worshipper
works, it can be noticed that the people who created many of these
hymns accepted a considerable number of new elements into their crea-
tions in order to adapt to the challenges of the times.44 The song Vera
naša, vera stara (Our faith, the old faith) is an example of adapting a
hymn to popular urban singing; it was sung to the melody of the famous
urban songs O, jesenjske duge noći (Oh, the long nights of autumn)45 and
Devojka na studencu (The girl at the well).46 This indicates that the crea-
tive products of the God Worshippers did not develop in isolation. The
melody of this song was well known not only in Serbia, but also further
afield47 The God Worshippers were not immune to the interpenetration
of musical traditions during the process of dispersal. They also adopted
foreign melodies to sing their hymns. These songs were another aspect of
God Worshipper creativity. The melody of the song ‘Oh, the long nights
of autumn’ found a place among religious-spiritual songs. Contrary to
urban and folk traditions, the song ‘Our faith, the old faith’ obtained a
new meaning infused with religious sentimentality, while the multitradi-
tionalism of this melody, according to modern ethnomusicologist Nice
Fracile, indicates that everybody living in the South Slavic region is ‘con-
nected and mutually influenced to such an extent that we are not aware
of it’.48
202 D. AŠKOVIĆ
The fact that God Worshippers were open to accepting the influences
of foreign musical traditions is confirmed by the example of the Irish tra-
ditional song Amazing Grace.49 The God Worshipper hymn ‘Welcome,
bright day’ (Christmas hymn) (see e.g. 3) was sung to the melody of this
Irish song.
Although God Worshippers chanted their hymns everywhere, they did
not always sound the same. Hymns assumed a special dimension when
chanted at their assemblies. The specific place and time of the perfor-
mance was an important attribute of God Worshipper chanting. Only in
this way did their hymns assume a significance much greater than com-
mon songs. Only in this way could they observe moral norms and give
the impression of man’s liberation from everything earthly.
If we measure the mutual influences between the God Worshippers
and the competent clergy, we can perceive that the former affected the
latter more than vice versa. While the Church was much older, the young
God Worshipper movement changed the stale life of the Church forever
with its activities. The God Worshipper movement had a lot of the ele-
ments in common with early Christian communities, and thus it is not
surprising that it contributed to the renewal of liturgical life and the
emergence of numerous hymns. The God Worshippers’ great inspiration
and enthusiasm did not allow their creativity to slacken or be subjected
to censorship. The price of the cry for religious freedom was the fact that
the God Worshipper hymns remained paraliturgical. These hymns repre-
sent the authentic testimony of Serbian piety and religious identity at the
beginning of the twentieth century. God Worshippers used these hymns
to express their orientation and affiliation. However, the official Church
held the God Worshippers to be a ‘disobedient flock’ because of these
hymns. After the Second World War, God Worshipper hymns were fre-
quently attacked as hymns which ruined the sanctified spirit of liturgical
hymns because they demonstrated melodies with folk origins.
It is true that these hymns emerged relatively ‘late’. In the period in
question, more modern forms of life were present. It was a time of ethi-
cal degradation. Thus, only a religious setting could secure the existence
of these hymns; they did not have enough time to develop further and
become more traditional. Despite this, these hymns were massively sup-
ported by their fans and the members of the movement. They consisted
of elements taken from the most different music traditions available,
which is one of the reasons why they remained superficial. Thanks to the
popular practice of singing over bass, they spread widely and still echo in
certain areas.
God Worshipper hymns are characterised by folkloric aspects, but they
also bear national and confessional imprints. Depending on the region,
the melodics of these hymns contain urban, rural, and ‘oriental’ charac-
teristics. However, since these hymns also have a supraconfessional qual-
ity, the fact that they were chanted to globally famous melodies is not
surprising. It can be noticed that music was not the aim but the means
of these poetical works. The message in the verses, rather than the one
in the melody, was the most important. The hymns emerged on the basis
of spontaneous and directly expressed folk creativity, which helps us to
understand the God Worshipper movement and its religious, social, and
political activities. These hymns testify that the God Worshippers, despite
their origins, were not simple or boring or cold. Given that they were
overwhelmed by faith, they cannot be considered mere believers. Their
devotion reached the heights of lyrical experience where religion meets
poetry. They were absolutely committed to creating and realising the
highest ideals. Today, God Worshipper hymns represent the only living
testament of the activities of the members of this movement.
God Worshipper hymns are the sole authentic testimony of the epony-
mous movement. The beliefs of the God Worshippers represent a uto-
pia, because they were realised exclusively within man and not in the
world. Therefore, neither morality nor nationality nor personality can
be a constitutional, legal, or canonical obligation. Christianity is not the
truth about history and the world, but the truth about man, a fact which
was testified unselfishly by the God Worshippers. They did not spread
the word about historical events in a scientific way or in a chronological
order. Thus, a large number of their hymns cannot be ordered chrono-
logically or according to content. They are focused exclusively on spirit
and emotions, since songs and feelings are indelible in people’s memo-
ries. The most powerful and deserving parts of their testament are their
stories about the miracles and speeches which generated their eter-
nal hymns. God Worshipper hymns show that Christianity is based on
historical awareness and emotions, and not on thinking or a system of
rules. This is why these hymns do not have great intellectual or theologi-
cal value. Their emotion is not a consequence of thinking, which arises
out of experience, as is confirmed by epic works. The origin of God
Worshipper chanting is a tragic experience. It was not a heroic cult, but
204 D. AŠKOVIĆ
a cult of sacrifice, which is sometimes the price that must be paid when
expressing constructive disagreement with an established system, a pro-
cess which necessarily claims innocent victims.
Thus, for the God Worshippers, history is not based solely on events
and chronology, but primarily on the awareness that man can have about
specific events. This phenomenon is impossible to determine by relying
on knowledge. Faith is a secret which can be talked about only by using
the language of art, and feelings are the only way to enable this. This is
why the secret is connected to spiritual feelings which allow everybody
to testify in unpredictable and different ways. God Worshipper hymns
represent an enduring testament to the honest folk piety of Serbs at the
beginning of the twentieth century.
Musical Examples
Example No. 1: ‘Heavenly Serbia, Serbia is Celestial’ (Molitvena
pesmarica, 67); sung by: Archimandrite Arsenije (1953–2014), the
monastery of Kaona, 2005; recorded by: Dragan Ašković.
HEAVENLY SERBIA
Heavenly Serbia, Serbia is celestial,
Fragrant and beautiful as the rose of May.
There are our holy fathers and forefathers,
Which reached their aims with the holy cross.
There are Serbian grand princes, kings and emperors,
And the knights of the cross, both new and old.
There are flocks of heroes’ mothers and sisters,
Shining like gold while crying and suffering.
There are armies of fasters and gentle saints,
And numerous, numerous dear relatives.
There honourable monks and pale nuns,

Joyfully look at the eternal light of God.
There are Serbian honorees and endowers,
Fighters and sufferers, both young and old.
And lovable girls and beloved children,
Who gladly perished for their Christ.
There are hosts who in their homes,
Lit icon lamps to the Most Eternal God.
They are joyful there around Saint Sava,
Like emperors’ sons during royal fame.
That is the eternal, Heavenly Serbia,
Shining like a cluster of stars in front of God.
Oh, most gracious God, in three hypostases,
Consider us the sinful as holy and save us.
We beg you, Christ, for all our people,
To lead us to the white heaven.
Example No. 2: ‘Help us, Supreme God’ (The Prayer to God) (Bishop
Nikolaj, Sabrana dela, 671); sung by: The Brotherhood of Christian
Community, Valjevo, 2005; recorded by: Dragan Ašković
THE PRAYER TO GOD

Help us, Supreme God,
Nothing can be done without You,
206 D. AŠKOVIĆ
Neither plow nor dig,

Nor fight for justice.
Neither be born or die,
Nor overcome an illness.

Neither a sinner can regret,
Nor one can sing with their brother.

And with You everything can be achieved,
And the eternal life reached.
Following the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina in 1992–1995, another

stanza was added to the existing text of the hymn:
Help us, gracious Christ,

For our souls to be pure,
That there is no war anymore,
That brother does not fight against brother.
The hymn with this stanza was sung by Jelena Tatić (1972, Teslić—
Bosnia and Herzegovina), Belgrade, 2006; recorded by: Dragan Ašković.
Example No. 3: ‘Welcome, the Bright Day’ (Christmas hymn); sung

by: Hegumenia Glikerija (1934), the monastery of Ćelije, July 2005;
recorded by: Dragan Ašković.
CHRISTMAS HYMN
Welcome, the bright day,
Everybody is cheering to you in a joyful voice,
We are celebrating in our souls and hearts,
The day when Salvation was born to the world…(Duhovna
pesmarica “Tebi, samo tebi“, 6)
Notes
1. Subotić (1996, pp. 15).
2. The very idea of organised religious movements originated from the
British Isles in the first half of the nineteenth century. In Serbia such a
movement was named the Christian Youth Community so that it was
more easily accepted (it bores no national or confessional adjective).
Numerous famous people were supporters and advocates of these move-
ments; for instance, scientist Mihailo Pupin, Dimitrije Ljotić, leader of
right-oriented movement Zbor, and Vladimir Dedijer, a later activist in
the Communist movement. See more: Pavlović (1994, p. 23); Subotić
(1996, p. 32).
3. For the Union of Lyon (1274), see: Popović (2006, p. 343); for the
Union of Florence (1438/9), see: Hubert (1978, p. 362).
5. Čalić (2013, p. 61).

4. Florovski (1995, p. 142).

208 D. AŠKOVIĆ
6. Scholarly interest in prayer chanting from the point of view of ethnomu-

sicology can be seen in: Ašković (2006, pp. 17–31); Ašković (2007b,
pp. 95–113); Ašković (2008, pp. 299–323); Ašković (2010, pp. 175–187);
Ašković (2012, pp. 272–283); Ašković (2013, pp. 228–246).
7. Dučić (2004, pp. V/600).
8. Radić (2011, p. 42).
9. In the turbulent wartime years at the beginning of the twentieth century,
King Petar I Karađorđević, in 1910, explicitly demanded that the Serbian
clergy arouse ‘patriotic feelings’ in their sermons during religious services.
It was an invitation to national mobilisation in the hard times following
the annexation crisis. Živojinović (1990, p. 128).
10. Grun (2008, pp. 193–213).
11. One of the oldest hymn books which contains the expression ‘lyre’ in its
name is: Josif Ce, Children’s lyre. It consisted of hymns for school children.
It was published in Prague in 1876. See more in: Pejović (2001, p. 279).
12. The first and most comprehensive collection of these hymns was pub-
lished by the diocese of Western Europe: Bishop Nikolaj, The Collected
Works, (Dusseldorf, 1978), Book 11. In addition to this edition, we have
selected a few more printed collections of this kind: Glas trube duhovne
(1965), Molitvena pesmarica (1997), Duhovna pesmarica, Vreoci (2004),
Duhovne pesme (2002), Pravoslavna duhovna lira (2003), Duhovna pes-
marica (2004).
13. Nikolaj Velimirović (1880–1956) was born in the village of Lelić near
Valjevo. After he had finished the gymnasium and seminary, he studied
in Berne, Switzerland, where he received his doctorate. Having spent a
short time in Belgrade, he went to study philosophy at Oxford. When he
returned to Belgrade, he received a delayed welcome. Soon he was sent
to Russia to ‘become more Orthodox’. In 1915, Nikola Pašić sent him
to England and America to propagate the Serbian cause. In 1919, he was
consecrated as bishop of Žiča; however, he was sent to Ohrid. He was
among one of the first to protect the God Worshippers. He contributed
much to overthrowing the Concordat in 1936. Soon after the occupation
of 1941, the Germans arrested him, and transferred him to the concen-
tration camp of Dahau in 1944. Dimitrije Ljotić (a particularly dedicated
God Worshipper) intervened, and Nikolaj and Patriarch Gavrilo were lib-
erated from Dahau. After the war, Nikolaj immigrated to the USA, where
he later died.
14. Karadžić (1976, pp. I/530).
15. Averincev (1982, p. 223).
16. Here in after all hymns will be cited according to their first lines, while the
title of specifically named hymns will be given in brackets.
17. The Holy Episcopal Synod No. 5544/record 1285 of 23/10- VI—in

1934. Stated according to: Odluke i rešenja… (2013, p. 203).
18. The Holy Episcopal Synod No. 7322/934. Stated according to: Odluke i
rešenja… (2013, p. 225).
19. Ibid., p. 289.
20. Ajdačić (2004, p. 244).
21. Radić (2011, p. 167).
22. Subotić (1996, p. 39).
23. Ašković and Končarević (2012, pp. 95–114).
24. This hymn was included in the official state educational system as a rec-
ommended composition for singing in the first and second grades of
primary school and is classified as a folk song. The official Gazette RS—
Educational Gazette (2004, No. 10 as of August 12).
25. Bandić (2008, p. 264).
26. The missionary was a prominent worshipper who had considerable experi-
ence and the gift of being able to preach and thus attract new followers
to the movement.
27. Vojinović (1991, p. 237).
28. Trifunović (1970, pp. 9–93).
29. Pravoslavna duhovna lira (2003, p. 112).
30. Velimirović (1997, pp. XV/31).
Čalić (2013, p. 36).

31. Velimirović (1997, pp. XI/362).
32.
33. Florovski (1995, p. 37).
34. „Nije sretan onaj ko telu ugodi“(Duhovna pesma); Pravoslavna duhovna
lira (2003, p. 138).
35. „Jedan mladić priđe Hristu klanjajući se“ (Bogati mladić); Pravoslavna
duhovna lira (2003, p. 306).
36. „Jedan gladan čovek pruži svoju ruku“ (Na strašnom sudu); Velimirović
(1997, pp. XI/555).
37. „Šta bogatstvo vredi i zemaljska slava“; (Bogataš i Lazar); Velimirović
(1997, pp. XI/60).
38. „Isuse blagi i živonosni“ (1940, p. 12). Hieromonk Timotej is stated to
be the author of the hymn’s verses.
39. Velimirović (1953, p. 16).
40. Berberović-Talam (2001, p. 48).
41. The verses of this famous song can be found in: Molitvena pesmarica
„Pojte Bogu našemu, pojte“ (1997, p. 105).
42. About the idea that the value of music depends on the human experience
invested in its formation, see: Bleking (1992, p. 60).
43. Bleking (1992, p. 66).
210 D. AŠKOVIĆ
44. Ašković (2007a, pp. 149–157).

45. Cenerić (1980, p. 132).
46. On the melody of this song see: Fracile 1997, pp. 283–295); The verses of
the song can be found in the authorised collection: Radičević (1954, p. 3).
47. See about this: Fracile (1997, p. 290).
48. Ibid., p. 291.
49. This traditional Irish song was found on the following Internet page:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GoQfZ2_YQpI; The song has also
been found in a song book published by the Adventist Church: Plamen
ljubavi (1997, pp. 73); It can also be found in: ‘Hrvatska liturgijska pjes-
marica’ (2003, p. 874).
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CHAPTER 11
The God Worshipper Movement

and Pilgrimage: Religious Revival
in the Past and Present
Dragana Radisavljević-Ćiparizović
Introduction: Social Conditions for the Appearance

Investigating a religious movement dating back more than 150 years

presents a special challenge to sociologists. The primary task of our dis-
cipline is to examine the impact of society on religion, and vice versa,
and to explain, and possibly to understand, religiosity among contem-
poraries by using scientific methods (both quantitative and qualitative)
in empirical research. The complexity of the subject of investigation, the
God Worshipper movement, requires an interdisciplinary approach, and
this is the reason why this chapter makes use of findings from historians,
theologians, and anthropologists as well as sociological research. Mirko
Blagojević, a sociologist who specialises in conventional church r eligiosity
in Serbia and Russia in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, points
out that Orthodoxy and the Serbian Orthodox Church (SOC) should
D. Radisavljević-Ćiparizović (*) 
Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade, Belgrade, Serbia

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_11
214 D. RADISAVLJEVIĆ-ĆIPARIZOVIĆ
be viewed from the perspective of several different sociopolitical frame-

works in which the social position and the social and spiritual impact of
the SOC varied to a great extent. This author provides a typology of reli-
gious structures in various historical periods: Serbia before the Second
World War—stable religious structure; Serbia after the Second World
War—destabilisation of religious structure; Serbia from the late 1980s
to the late 1990s—restabilisation of religious structure.1 The appear-
ance of the first ideal type overlapped with the appearance of the God
Worshipper movement, which occurred at the end of the First World War
in 1918.
Before the First World War, the SOC held a privileged social position.
The Serbian Constitution of 1903 established Orthodox Christianity
as the official state religion: religious education became a compulsory
school subject, state holidays were marked by church services, and the
salaries of church officials were paid by the government, just like other
state employees. It could be claimed that, in such a social and cultural
environment, the common people were in close contact with Orthodox
Christianity, since religion and the Church were, in one way or another,
present in their everyday lives. At the same time, atheism was socially
undesirable and proscribed. The position of the SOC changed between
the two world wars; it lost its dominant position as a socially privileged
church in the Kingdom of Serbia when it was equalised with other reli-
gious communities in the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes (later
Yugoslavia). Zoran Krstić, a theologian who investigated the relationship
between the Church and society, claims that people in Serbia were not
overly religious in the twentieth century.2 The author argues that dur-
ing the period of irregular parish church life (the sixteenth to eighteenth
centuries), when emphasis was transferred from evangelicalism to a more
conventional and traditional form of religion, the essential postulates of
Christianity were forgotten. Radmila Radić has argued similarly in rela-
tion to the decline of religiosity among the Serbs in the same period.
In the nineteenth century, Serbia was a poor and backward country
seeking to develop into a modern society. Due to the neglect of religion
in previous periods, insufficiently Christianised believers faced new sec-
ular and materialistic ideas which permeated society, while the Church,
with its small number of poorly educated clergy, was unable to put up
much opposition. The Church at the end of the nineteenth century was
viewed as a political institution which was ‘busy fostering nationalism’
at the expense of caring for the religious situation of the population.
11 THE GOD WORSHIPPER MOVEMENT AND PILGRIMAGE … 215
Religious ceremonies were mostly observed within the family, dispensing

with strict Christian dogmatism and church discipline.3
The Serbian God Worshipper Movement:

From Charismatic Phenomenon
to Establishment to Decline
The God Worshippers were a lay movement of Orthodox peasants which

spontaneously appeared in the second half of the nineteenth century in
present day Voivodina and Serbia.4 Their objective was the religious and
moral renewal of the people. They differed from the majority of church-
goers in terms of their ascetic lifestyle: they fasted strictly, prayed often,
regularly attended church services, and frequently took confession and
communion. As a contemporary sociologist of religion might put it,
they were an ideal type of firm, practical believers. On the other hand,
especially in the beginning, they came close to going astray because they
practised spiritualism, as extensively investigated by Radmila Radić.5
The emergence of the prayer brotherhood, their organisational form,
stemmed from both general social circumstances and the conservative
attitude of the official Church, which did not pay sufficient attention to
the common people. It was objected that the movement of the pious
(Pobožni) was a heretical organisation6: many critics did not recognise
that its members were yearning for authentic Christianity and experience
of the living God. Thomas Bremer has argued that the Serbian prayer
movement originated in Voivodina, the site of the former metropolitan-
ate of Sremski Karlovci, and that it should be viewed in the context of
the various sects that appeared in this area at that time.7
Other researchers hold similar opinions, arguing that the appearance
of religious movements in the West was a significant driver for the emer-
gence of the God Worshipper movement in these regions. For example,
in Great Britain, a religious movement emerged among working class.
Bojan Aleksov, who has extensively researched the Nazarenes among the
Serbs, notes that the God Worshipper movement deployed some typi-
cally ‘Protestant devices’ in church life, such as conferences, special pro-
grammes for women, communal singing, and wide use of the written
word for religious purposes.8 Mihailo Smiljanić, on the basis of his recent
investigation into a local God Worshipper brotherhood, remarks that
the movement appeared almost simultaneously in regions which are not
directly connected topographically, such as Voivodina and south-eastern

Serbia. Moreover, these areas belonged to different states and church
jurisdictions in the period in question, which made contact more diffi-
cult. The author also points out the existence of a latent need among the
people for a more intense and expressive religiosity than the one offered
by the Church: ‘it is evident that the Voivodina prayer movement at the
turn of the century enthusiastically sought to put prescribed church dis-
cipline into practice, together with an intensified religious life outside
the church’.9 We agree with those authors who claim that the appear-
ance of the brotherhood should be divided into two periods, namely
before 1919 and after. The movement existed before 1919, but it had no
organisation at all. Neither the origins nor the characteristic features of
the various God Worshipper brotherhoods were uniform.10
It is also no accident that the God Worshipper movement spread dur-
ing the hardest times of the Serbian people in the Great War. In such
dire circumstances, universal questions of life and death, and thus reli-
gion, inevitably arise. Examining how people relate to religion in wealthy
countries which have not waged wars for over a century, Vladeta Jerotić
claims that attitudes range from atheism and complete indifference to a
lukewarm outlook to faith. The author points out the truth of the folk
saying: ‘Where there is no tribulation, there is also no place of worship’.
Bishop Nikolaj Vladimirović connected the appearance of the movement
with the experience of the Balkan Wars and the First World War, con-
sidering it to be a spontaneous movement of pious Serbian peasants: ‘it
stems from the personal spiritual experiences of individuals, especially
during the long periods of war from 1912 to 1918; that is to say, it stems
from miracles’.11 The spread of the movement during the First World
War attracted the attention of the military authorities on the Salonika
front. Đoko Slijepčević, a historian, wrote that soldiers who were mem-
bers of the prayer movement strictly observed the fasts, went to church,
prayed to God by themselves, and despised thieves, liars, and especially
blasphemers. Before Patriarch Dimitrij intervened on their behalf, offic-
ers were very strict with members of the movement even if they were
commendable soldiers,12 fearing that they were Nazarenes.13
The God Worshipper movement was started spontaneously by laymen,
without incentive on the part of the church hierarchy. On the contrary,
among clergy and the bishops they were repudiated and mistrusted.
However, even though the Serbian Church was greatly opposed to the
Nazarene movement, it was indifferent to the prayer movement at first.
Some approved of it, while others warned against possible transgressions.
The main arguments against the movement concerned suspicions of dis-

sent (sectarianism). The members of this movement also required greater
engagement from priests; for example, they may have expected them
to deliver a homily at every liturgy. The clergy were suspicious of their
zeal, notably in terms of extreme fasting and worshiping practices which
went against church rules. In addition, certain forms of heterodoxy were
observable, such as discretionary interpretation of the Holy Scriptures.14
It is interesting that spiritualist practices were observed in certain broth-
erhoods. R. Radić has stated that this was the ‘fashion of the period’,
but it was nevertheless in marked opposition to church dogma.15 When
he took upon himself the challenging task of establishing the movement,
Bishop Velimirović publicly called on the clergy to accept the movement
in an article entitled ‘Do not reject them’.16
The first phase of the establishment of this charismatic movement began
with its recognition, which took the form of a blessing from the Church
in December 1920. Milan Bozoljac and Dragoljub Milivojević set out
the rules of the People’s Christian Community, which were approved,
with certain modifications, by Patriarch Dimitrije and the Synod of the
SOC in 1921. In the same year, the first assembly of God Worshipper
brotherhoods was held. It was estimated that there were 50,000 mem-
bers of both sexes at this time.17 From then on, the movement was
under the guidance of Bishop Nikolaj, with the blessing by Patriarch
Dimitrije. The movement still did not have a unified organisation, but it
soon spread across villages in Šumadija, Mačva, Pomoravlje, Voivodina,
and Semberija. The magazine Christian Community was established
in 1922: it later changed its name to New Souls and then to Orthodox
Christian Community in 1927. After 1924, it had the circulation of
10,000 copies.18 Thanks to its institutionalisation between the two wars,
the movement further developed through publishing, educational activi-
ties, assemblies, and mass gatherings.
Training courses stemmed from awareness that preacher-mission-
aries needed to be better educated. At the proposal of Bishop Nikolaj,
they were issued with certificates that enabled them to hold religious-
moral gatherings in cooperation with local parish priests: such meet-
ings were aimed at instilling faith and morality among the people.19 In
the early 1930s, the movement continued to develop its institutional
framework. It held annual meetings at the Kovilje monastery in 1933,
the Blagoveštenje monastery in 1934, the Žiča monastery in 1936, the
Tavna monastery in 1939, and in Žiča again in 1940: there was also a
series of prayer assemblies in various dioceses.20 Even former adherents
of spiritualism joined church institutions over time. The number of spir-

itualist magazines went into sharp decline, and, in the 1930s, they slowly
withdrew from the public sphere.21 At the beginning of the Second
World War in Yugoslavia, the God Worshipper movement was forced to
cease its activities. The printing house was closed, the assemblies could
not be held, and Bishop Nikolaj was imprisoned. After the war, the
movement was practically destroyed by strong anti-religious pressure.
Post-war circumstances prevented the prayer brotherhood from institut-
ing its earlier organisational forms. There are certain groups today which
claim to be the bearers of the traditions of the God Worshipper move-
ment; however, they do not hold the same importance in the Serbian
Church as they did before the war. Mihajlo Smiljanić has investigated the
existence of a local brotherhood in Višegrad Stari Vlah and draws the
conclusion that the closure of the community enabled the local move-
ment to survive when the communist government came to power.22
The ‘Project Rastko’23 website provides information on the rules of the
Christian People’s Community, a prayer movement in the former Šabac-
Valjevo diocese (with special emphasis on the period 1962–1985), the
Orthodox Christian Community in Loznica, and the Orthodox Christian
People’s Community in Šabac. Whether these and similar communities
which claim the names of the former God Worshipper brotherhoods still
operate, and in what manner, requires further empirical research. We are
of the opinion that this is an attempt to keep alive the memory of this
movement, which was of great significance to the Orthodox Church, by
maintaining its form: keeping the name, singing their famous hymns, and
going on pilgrimages to monasteries. Dragan Ašković has described the
importance of the hymns of the God Worshipper movement, which were
sung in a comprehensible folk dialect and were used to begin every prayer
meeting and assembly of the brotherhood.24
Religious Revival and the God Worshippers

The appearance of the God Worshipper movement brought about a
religious renewal, which was mostly manifested through the following
activities:
1. Publishing: between the two wars, the movement engaged in vigorous

publishing activities. In Kragujevac, the location of their central office,
the magazines Christian Community and Missionary were published
between 1922 and 1941. Furthermore, over 100 publications were

issued in the series The Library of the People’s Christian Community.
It has been estimated that the total number of publications put out by
the Worshipper between the two wars exceeds four million.25
2. Revival of monasticism: the God Worshippers deserve credit for
the fact that monasticism in Serbia succeeded in overcoming the
tribulations it faced. Serbian monasteries traditionally suffered from
a lack of young monks. This was connected with centuries-long
Turkish rule, which affected the regular development of monkhood.
Statistical data from the turn of the twentieth century show that
there were one or two monks per monastery. After the First World
War, when all the various Serbian ecclesiastical jurisdictions united,
there was only one female monastery with ten nuns in the Serbian
Church. With the arrival of emigrating Russian nuns in Serbia,
female monasteries began to revive. Monks and nuns belonging
to the God Worshipper movement once again settled in dozens of
previously deserted monasteries. 20 of the monks belonging to the
brotherhood went to the Hilandar monastery alone.26 Descendants
of God Worshipper families remained attached to the Church. This
was confirmed by our investigation in 2007 on religiosity in pilgrims.
3. Church reforms: the Serbian Church allowed the use of local dialects,
encouraged pastoral activities, improved religious education, and
increased its own publishing activity. Bojan Aleksov has interpreted
these processes as the modernisation of the SOC: this was charac-
terised by two parallel and opposing tendencies. On the one hand,
the Church went through ethnicisation, a process whereby Orthodox
Christianity assumed the status of a distinctive cultural expression of
the Serbian people. On the other hand, the adoption of strategies
and forms of religiosity from other churches on the part of the SOC
points to the universalisation of religion in modern times.27
The God Worshippers and Pilgrimages

Pilgrimages were a characteristic aspect of the movement. Before the
First World War, members from Voivodina went on pilgrimages to mon-
asteries that were one or two days walking distance; for example, mem-
bers from Banat went to the Vojlovica monastery, while those from
Bačka travelled to the Kovilje monastery. After the First World War, they
most often went on pilgrimage to the Hilandar monastery.28
Some authors interpret such ritualisation as a strategy applied by the

Orthodox Church in response to the appearance of new religious move-
ments. More specifically, the Catholic Church also successfully defended
their worshippers by strengthening the ritual aspect of religion. This
opinion is supported by reports testifying that many Serbs in Slavonija
and South Hungary took part in Catholic pilgrimages, processions, and
observances of the Holy Mother of God (the cult of the Virgin Mary).29
We are of the opinion that when seeking the holy (especially in sick-
ness or hardship), believers of different religions and confessions visit the
same holy places, regardless of their ethnic origins and confessional affili-
ations. These are so-called mixed pilgrimages.30 This was confirmed by
Duijzings, a Dutch anthropologist who, in 1991, conducted research on
‘mixed’ pilgrimages to the Orthodox Serbian monasteries of Gračanica
and Zočište and the Roman Catholic shrine in Letnica, all of which are
in Kosovo. The crossing of ethnic and religious borders in the Balkans
has always been widespread, with both Muslims and Christians visiting
each other’s shrines, thereby setting aside the obvious theological objec-
tions from religious orthodoxy.31
Aleksov also claims that the metropolinate of Karlovci ordered its
priests to encourage similar traditional Orthodox customs, such as pil-
grimages to holy springs or miracle-working icons. Many ‘holy waters’
were established in these areas at this time, as has been extensively
described by Mirjana Đekić. This author points out that beliefs about the
curative power of water date into the distant past, and that they were
supported by the official teachings of the Church: the same holds true
for the cult of miracle-working icons.32 Dragan Subotić, who has had
access to the archives of the SOC, provides a detailed description of mass
assemblies of the God Worshipper movement held under the guidance of
Nikolaj Velimirović. The assemblies were held between 1926 and 1938
on an almost annual basis. These large prayer gatherings, mostly held
at monasteries, involved several thousand members of the movement.
Velimirović, in his book Divan, described some of the gatherings and
cited speeches and sermons; however, Bremer argues that this material
cannot be used as a historical source, since it was the basis for the bish-
op’s ecclesiology: ‘this pseudo-realistic account of the prayer movement
meeting reveals his own vision and his account of an ideal ecclesiologi-
cal actuality’.33 Velimirović saw the assemblies as a sort of mass conver-
testimony of a nun from Čurug at the assembly in Divostin monastery

sion where the people embraced Orthodox Christianity. Here, we cite the
concerning God Worshipper pilgrimage, as written down by Velimirović

from memory in Divan:
Our brotherhood in Čurug is large and old. You may have heard that
our church is the largest in Voivodina. At that time, when I was a girl, I
used to walk with our God Worshipper brothers from Bač and Banat to
our famous monasteries, starting from Vojlovica and Kovilje, all the way to
Ravanica and Pribina Glava. Then it was called the ‘Small Pilgrimage’. One
who went on three such pilgrimages was considered to be a worshipper of
the Holy Mountain. One who made seven such pilgrimages was consid-
ered to be a worshipper of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. Unmarried
girls went on pilgrimage before the wedding for happiness in marriage, the
old men and women prayed for the salvation of their souls. Before setting
out on the journey, we fasted for three days, and another three in the mon-
asteries, and on the seventh day we would take communion in the mon-
astery where we happened to be. Many went barefoot, like going to the
Holy Sepulchre, all the while singing church and spiritual songs. On the
way, some regarded us as a miracle, some as monsters. One summer, there
was a terrible draught. Everything was wilted. When we set out on our
pilgrimage to the Fruška Gora, peasants implored us to pray for rain in
the monasteries. And we did. In every monastery the priests were glad to
rained abundantly. In Čurug this was attributed to our pilgrimage and

say molebens for rain at our request. When we were in Šišatovac, it finally
prayers. And the prestige of our brotherhood was considerably enhanced.34
This account shows that, for the members of the God Worshipper move-
ment, the places of pilgrimage were well-known monasteries, which
acted as stand-ins for the inaccessible great pilgrimages to the Holy
Mountain and Jerusalem. The motives of pilgrims from different genera-
tions were universal: ‘happiness in marriage’ or ‘saving the soul’. These
were not tourist trips: the pilgrims walked barefoot, sang the songs of
the brotherhood, and fasted for six days to take communion on the sev-
enth day at a monastery. The importance of prayer served to enhance the
prestige of the brotherhood.
Pilgrimages in Twenty-First Century Serbia: An Investigation

into the Religiosity of Pilgrims
The revitalisation of religiosity in Serbia in the last 25 years has been
marked by religious traditionalism and a notion of returning to the
ancestral faith; the author of this chapter has written about this in her
book Religiosity and Tradition.35 After almost half a century of banish-

ment from social life, the Church has once again stepped into the public
arena and assumed importance in the shaping of religious and national
identity. After the 5 October 2000 regime change in Serbia, the SOC,
as the church of the majority, not only kept, but also strengthened its
social position. What had once been abolished by a political decision and
the imposition of communist ideology returned in a similar, albeit less
violent, manner. In July 2001, religious education was introduced into
primary and secondary schools as a confessional subject. The faculty of
Orthodox theology once again became part of Belgrade University, and
the clergy returned to the professional army. In 2006, the Law on the
Legal Position of Religious Communities was finally adopted, although
this was the sixth version! Church property has been returned or restitu-
tion has been made for nationalised church estates; temples have been
restored and new ones constructed.
Two theoretical frameworks are often cited when interpreting the
return and revitalisation of religion in Serbia. The first considers religion
as public institution, while the second examines it as an internal religious
revivification stemming from the very core of religion: the Church as
the institution of God and the individual spiritual needs of believers for
religiosity and faith. While the first framework is never questioned, the
second provokes various, often opposing, opinions and interpretations
of the same empirical evidence.36 This is the reason why there are still
no easy answers about whether the people of Serbia are religious. Zoran
Krstić, who, in addition to his scientific work, has experience as a priest,
writes the following about religious revival ‘of our time’:
Most of our parishes, and notably city churches, have already formed in
the last two decades a small but strong Eucharistic core, comprising of
believers who increasingly differ from traditional believers in the manner in
which they live their faith.37
In our 2007 investigation of religiosity among pilgrims, we met wor-

shippers like these. The great majority of our respondents, pilgrims,
were members of a parish community. It is worth noting that they often
did not attend the church closest to their place of residence, but rather
sought a suitable community and priest. In-depth interviews were con-
ducted in Belgrade from a sample of 25 Orthodox and 25 Catholic
respondents. The religiosity of the pilgrims was traced through time via
three categories: upbringing, conversion, and self-appraisal of religios-

ity. A typology was constructed from the self-assessment of religiosity: a
church believer, a missionary, and a traditionalist. Three directions were
observed in the religious lives of believers: progression, stagnation, and
regression.38
The findings of the investigation confirm the substantial influence of
the family on the religiosity of the respondents; however, for the pro-
gression of their religious lives, conversion, understood as a dynamic
category, is of central importance. Some of the pilgrims, now church
believers, had markedly atheistic upbringings within their families. Three
types of pilgrims were established in accordance with their upbringing:
(1) traditional religious upbringing; (2) non-religious upbringing; and
(3) from God Worshipper families. While traditionally raised believers
and those with non-religious upbringings were expected, pilgrims from
the so-called God Worshipper families were surprising. In contrast to
those with a traditional religious upbringing, their family backgrounds
exhibited increased religiosity. There were eight of them in total (five
from Catholic families and three from Orthodox ones). Below we pro-
vide examples of Orthodox Worshipper pilgrim families (OP) to illustrate
the enhanced religiosity which we argue constitutes a God Worshipper
upbringing.
My parents were very pious. We were the most numerous family zadruga
(extended family) in the former Yugoslavia. The census of 1956 listed
64 members of the family under a single roof. My father was the leader
of the GodWorshipper movement of St Nikolaj Velimirović. He was perse-
cuted by communists, despite the fact that two of his brothers were killed
in the National Liberation Army. In 1964 Milan Kovačević came and made
a recording of our house in Janja, the municipality of Šipovo. We were at
an evening prayer before the meal. The head of the household stood in
front of the icon, we did not have a censer, and read the Lord’s Prayer and
the Hail Mary. A God Worshipper read from the book of devotion and the
homiliary, and sang hymns. They never worked on feast days. We prayed in
the open, there was no church. The church was built as late as 1976, the
communists would not allow it [OP 10, male, age 73, sacristan].
Both my mother’s and my father’s side had always been with the Church.
My fraternal great grandfather was a catechist at the turn of the twentieth
century. My mother’s side was a Bogomoljac family from Bosnia. My
father is from Sarajevo and my mother from Janja: many nuns, bishops,
and priests come from there. Taking into consideration the modern way
of life, I like visiting monasteries. Before every meal, we say a prayer, or

make the sign of the cross. As a little girl, I also visited monasteries. My
mother works at the temple of St Alexander Nevski, and my husband is
a deacon in Arilje. Here I am active with missionary work. It is never too
much. Everyone likes to hear a kind word and take advice [OP12, f, age
29, administrator].
My father was the head of the church board. My mother also had strong
faith. Doctors suspected paralysis, but my mother took me to a church,
on foot, to Žiča, carrying me in her arms.39 Later on, there was never any
doubt: ‘you know, you are not a member’, as I never renounced my faith.
I know where and when the Communist Party was founded, but I am
from a traditional family, countless times have I recognised God [OP17,
f, age 55, unemployed].
In all three cases, the pilgrims from God Worshipper families, despite
being from various generations, were closely attached to the Church. It
was confirmed that these families have been and still remain the breeding
ground for lay and clerical church cadres.
Conclusion
The God Worshipper movement appeared spontaneously among lay
pious people at the turn of the twentieth century, without stimulation
on the part of the church hierarchy. After the First World War, it spread
to all regions inhabited by Serbian peasant soldiers. Both external and
internal factors influenced the movement. The external factors relate
to similar movements of the period, particularly the Nazarenes, with
whom they were in a sort of symbiotic relationship for a time. The inter-
nal factors concern the situation in Serbian society and the Church, in
addition to a great spiritual yearning for authentic Christianity and expe-
rience of the living faith. The movement went through a charismatic
phase, followed by a process of acceptance conducted by Bishop Nikolaj
Velimirović: this gradually institutionalised it. Historically speaking, the
God Worshipper movement played a positive role in the Serbian Church,
since it revived religious life between the two world wars, spread reli-
gious publications on a massive scale, and restored monasticism. Some
of the research which has been conducted into the subject shows that
there remain some isolated local communities of God Worshippers, but
religious revival today mostly comes from parish communities. Like the
God Worshipper movement, this revival does not involve the majority
of traditional believers, but rather a small number of churchgoers. They
are distinguished from traditional believers by their strict church disci-
pline, which involves regular attendance at the liturgy, observance of all
prescribed fasts, and frequent taking of communion.40 In contrast to the
former members of the movement, who were mostly uneducated village
people, today we have well-educated urban believers of both sexes. They
share with the God Worshippers a love of monasteries, frequent pilgrim-
ages, and regular liturgical life.
Notes
1. Blagojević (2008, pp. 235–257).
2. Krstić (2012).
3. Radić (2009, pp. 249–250).
4. Grujić (1993, p. 206).
5. Radić (2009, pp. 196–228).
6. Ašković (2014, p. 165).
7. Bremer (1997, p. 114).
8. Aleksov (2010, p. 198).
9. Smiljanić (2014, pp. 209–222).
10. Dimitrijević (1925, pp. 193–200).
11. Velimirović (1953, pp. 5–7).
12. Slijepčević (1991, p. 575).
13. In accordance with their beliefs (conscientious objection), Nazarenes
refused to carry arms. See Aleksov’s chapter in this volume.
14. Smiljanić (2014, pp. 209–222).
15. Radić (2009, p. 196).
16. Ibid.
17. Subotić (1996, pp. 32–33).
18. Radić (2009, p. 202).
19. Bremer (1997, pp. 122–123).
20. Subotić (1996, pp. 217–251).
21. Radić (2009, p. 253).
22. Smiljanić (2014, p. 211).
23. http://www.rastko.org.rs/svecovek/zajednice/index.html.
24. Ašković (2014, pp. 161–175).
25. Bremer (1997, pp. 116–117).
26. Ibid., 117–118.
27. Aleksov (2010, p. 301).
28. Smiljanić (2014, p. 209).
29. Aleksov (2010, p. 281).

30. The author defended a doctoral thesis on mixed pilgrimages and the relig-
iosity of pilgrims in Serbia at the Faculty of Philosophy in Belgrade in
2013, entitled: Religion and Pilgrimage Tourism: A Case Study of Three
Shrines in Serbia (St. Petka on Kalemegdan, the Mother of God of Đunis
and the Mother of God of Tekije).
31. Dejzings (2005, p. 112).
32. Đekić (2001, pp. 9–14).
33. Bremer (1997, p. 114).
34. Velimirović (1953, p. 23).
35. Radisavljević-Ćiparizović (2006, pp. 95−105).
36. Blagojević (2008, pp. 97–117).
37. Krstić (2012, p. 140).
38. The terms progression, stagnation, and regression do not have value con-
notations, but are used to explain the dynamics of the religious lives and
religiosity of the pilgrims.
39. The respondent is from a village near Kruševac. The distance from
Kruševac to the monastery of Žiča is 56 km. In an age when we use the
car to cross the street, this appears somewhat hard to believe. It used to
be common to go on a pilgrimage on foot, especially in troubling times
(war, serious illness), to monasteries and holy places: our respondents,
pilgrims themselves, confirmed this in their accounts.
40. Mass attendance at liturgy and the taking of communion has appeared
in Serbia only since the beginning of the 1990s, as shown by three key
investigations of religiosity in the twentieth century, conducted in 1983,
1993, and 1999 respectively. See in Radisavljević-Ćiparizović (2006).
References
Aleksov, Bojan. 2010. Nazareni među Srbima: verska trvenja u južnoj Ugarskoj i
Srbiji od 1850. do 1914. Beograd: Zavod za udžbenike.
Ašković, Dragan. 2014. “Odnos narodnog i crkvenog oblika pobožnosti u vreme
nastanka i širenja Bogomoljačkog pokreta”, in “Etnos”, religija i identitet: naučni
skup u čast Dušana Bandića, Lidija B. Radulović i Ildiko Erdei (eds.). Beograd:
Odeljenje za etnologiju i antropologiju, Filozofski fakultet, pp. 161–175.
Blagojević, Mirko. 2008. “Religiozna Evropa, Rusija i Srbija: juče i danas: argu-
menti empirijske evidencije: slučaj Srbije”. Filozofija i društvo 3: 235–257.
Blagojević, Mirko. 2009. “Revitalizacija religije I religioznosti u Srbiji: stvarnost
ili mit”. Filozofija i društvo 20 (2): 97–117.
Bremer, Tomas. 1997. Vera, kultura i politika: eklezijalna struktura i ekleziologija
u Srpskoj pravoslavnoj crkvi u XIX i XX veku. Niš: Gradina: JUNIR.
Dejzings, Ger. 2005. Religija i identitet na Kosovu. Beograd: Biblioteka XXvek.
Dimitrijević, Steva. 1925. “Pokret pobožnih u našem narodu”, Vesnik Srpske

Crkve, april.
Đekić, Mirjana. 2001. Vodice u Vojvodini. Beograd: Draganić.
Grujić, Radoslav. 1993. Azbučnik Srpske pravoslavne crkve po Radoslavu Grujiću.
prir. Slobodan Mileusnić. Beograd: BIGZ.
http://www.rastko.org.rs/svecovek/zajednice/index.html. Accessed 27 Jan 2015.
Jerotić, Vladeta. 1996. Staro i novo u hrišćanstvu. Beograd: Iskoni.
Krstić, Zoran. 2012. Pravoslavlje i modernost: teme praktične teologije. Beograd:
Službeni glasnik.
Radisavljević-Ćiparizović, Dragana. 2006. Religioznost i tradicija. Beograd:
Filozofski fakultet, Institut za sociološka istraživanja.
Radisavljević-Ćiparizović, Dragana. 2013. Religija i hodočasnički turizam: studije
slučaja tri svetilišta u Srbiji (Kalemegdanska sv. Petka, Bogorodica Đuniska i
Majka Božja Tekijska), Ph.D. thesis. Beograd: Filozofski fakultet.
Radić, Radmila. 2009. Narodna verovanja, religija i spiritizam u srpskom društvu
19. i prvoj polovini 20. veka. Beograd: Institut za noviju istoriju Srbije.
Slijepčević, Đoko. 1991. Istorija Srpske pravoslavne crkve. Knj.2, Od početka XIX
veka do kraja Drugog svetskog rata. Beograd: BIGZ.
Smiljanić, Mihailo. 2014. “Bogomoljački pokret u višegradskom Starom Vlahu
i okolini po kazivanjima meštana”. Mileševski zapisi 10: 209–222.
Subotić, Dragan. 1996. Episkop Nikolaj i pravoslavni bogomoljački pokret. Beograd:
Nova Iskra.
Velimirović, Nikolaj. 1953. Divan: nauka o čudesima. Njujork.
Velimirović, Nikolaj. 1997. Bogomoljački pokret: (članci, besede, polsnice i studije).
Izabrana dela knj. 15. Valjevo: Glas Crkve.
PART III
Case Studies of Renewal Movements

in the Orthodox Churches of Romania,
Greece and Bulgaria
CHAPTER 12
The Romanian Lord’s Army: A Case Study

in Eastern Orthodox Church Renewal
Corneliu Constantineanu
Introduction
The beginning of the twentieth century represented a particularly intense
period in the life of the Romanian Orthodox Church. One of the sig-
nificant moments in that era was a ‘rediscovery’ of the central role of
the Scriptures in the everyday lives of believers. This led, in turn, to an
unambiguous affirmation of the centrality of the person of Christ. This
rediscovery of the Scripture and Christ at the beginning of the twentieth
century had two major influences in the Romanian context. On the one
hand, there was Oastea Domnului (The Lord’s Army), a unique move-
ment for spiritual renewal within the Orthodox Church. This move-
ment has grown continually ever since and today affects more than a
million people in all parts of Romania.1 The Lord’s Army represents a
real hope for authentic renewal within the Romanian Orthodox Church.
On the other hand, a new translation of the Bible in the same period,
written in contemporary and very accessible Romanian, contributed sub-
stantially to the growth of a particular form of Protestantism, known
C. Constantineanu (*) 
Aurel Vlaicu University of Arad, Arad, Romania

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_12
232 C. Constantineanu
in Romania as neo-Protestantism. This included the new evangelical

churches, with the three most significant being the Pentecostals, the
Baptists, and the Brethren. This is very significant indeed, because even
though the Reformation reached Transylvania in the sixteenth century,
it did not have a direct impact on the Romanian population until much,
much later. Both of these major consequences of the ‘rediscovery’ of the
centrality of Scripture for the life of the Church were significant devel-
opments for Romanian Christianity, and they deserve to be explored ade-
quately. However, the limited space of this chapter allows me to develop
only one of these major influences. I will therefore concentrate on the
Lord’s Army.2
The structure of this chapter is simple. I begin by looking closely at
three key figures in the Romanian Orthodox Church who contributed
substantially to the ‘rediscovery’ of Scripture at the beginning of the
twentieth century, namely the Orthodox priests Dumitru Cornilescu,
Dumitru Popescu, and Iosif Trifa. More space will be given to Trifa, who
was the founder of the Lord’s Army movement. A separate section will
be devoted to the foundation and theology of the Lord’s Army. A short
account on the Orthodox Church’s response to these developments will
be presented, followed by a brief discussion of Traian Dorz, the peas-
ant poet and leader of the Romanian Lord’s Army. It is my hope that by
making this material available to a wider audience, this chapter will con-
tribute to better knowledge and understanding of this particular aspect
of religious renewal in Romania.
The ‘Rediscovery’ of Scripture in the Romanian

Orthodox Church: Key Figures
In the first half of the twentieth century, the Romanian Orthodox Church
experienced a good deal of what could be called ‘internal unrest’. Priests,
lay people, and many intellectuals were dissatisfied with their ‘empty’
Christian lives. Searching for a deeper and more fulfilling faith, they dis-
covered for themselves the essence of the Gospels and experienced a new
vitality in their spiritual lives, particularly through a close and living rela-
tionship with Jesus Christ. Although the number of people directly and
notably involved in this process was very large, I will refer principally to
the activity of three Orthodox priests whose influence was extremely sig-
nificant: Dumitru Cornilescu, Tudor Popescu, and Iosif Trifa.
12 THE ROMANIAN LORD’S ARMY: A CASE STUDY IN EASTERN ORTHODOX … 233
Dumitru Cornilescu (1891–1975) and the Modern

Romanian Translation of the Bible3
A grandson of Orthodox priests, Cornilescu felt attracted to the priest-
hood and so decided to study theology at the Orthodox Theological
Seminary in Bucharest.4 Yet, as a student, he was discontented with the
teachings and rituals of the Church. With the permission and help of the
director of the seminary, he read and translated many Christian books
from English, French, and German.5 These books spoke of a Christian
life completely different from that which he had experienced. Becoming
very impressed and enthusiastic about this new life, he decided upon the
purpose of his ministry: ‘This will be my job when I will be a priest: to
make known this life to our people’.6
Cornilescu noticed that all the books he read spoke about a daily
reading of the Scriptures. Presuming that this was the mystery of the
‘new life’, he decided to read them every single day in order to find the
secret for himself. However, after a few days, he was disappointed. Here
is how his biographer, Maianu, describes his reaction:
At the beginning he did not like the Bible. He was very disappointed. The
Romanian translation of the Bible available at that time was so difficult that
he was not able to understand it. ‘How is it possible to praise the Bible so
much’, he asked himself, ‘when it does not have anything nice or interest-
ing in it.’ But as soon as he started to read it in a foreign language, he
understood it and was very satisfied.7
There were two important things that motivated Cornilescu to start a

new translation of the Bible: first, the lack of clarity in the version used
by the Orthodox Church and, second, his strong conviction that it was
only through direct access to the Bible that the religious lives of the
Romanian people could be improved. When he started to translate the
Bible, he was very confused by many Greek and Hebrew words and
concepts which contradicted his beliefs at that moment. At that time,
Cornilescu also experienced many contradictory feelings, which guided
him to a new understanding of soteriology and of the relationship
between the Bible and the Church: this was an understanding closer to
the Protestant interpretation of these doctrines.8 One of the things that
surprised him was how much the Bible talks about sin, and that it was
something very hateful in God’s eyes. Cornilescu said:
All the time I thought that sin is a terrible thing. But if somebody would
have asked me ‘what is sin’, I would have probably answered: ‘if someone
kills somebody, he commits sin. The killer is a sinner and his place is in
prison.’ But when I read the words of Matthew 5:22, ‘But I say to you
that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judg-
ment’, I was shocked, thinking that all of us are angry every day.9
Reflecting on these and similar texts, two concepts became fixed in

Cornilescu’s mind: ‘imputed sin’ and ‘imputed justice’. By these terms,
he explained the relation between sin and the death of humanity, on the
one hand, and the lack of sin and the death of Christ as the basis for
justification by faith, on the other. For the first time in the history of
the Romanian translation of the Bible, Cornilescu uses the expression ‘to
be counted as righteous’ in order to communicate the idea of ‘imputed’
righteousness. He also changed all the expressions which contained the
synergical concept of salvation. He swapped the active voice of the verb
used in the Orthodox translation to denote redemption, salvation, justifi-
cation, and sanctification for the passive voice in order to emphasise that
salvation is the work of God and not of humans.10
No one should be surprised to read that Cornilescu experienced a real
conversion while working on his translation. He specifies in his ‘history’
the steps that he followed:
I see that there is a forgiveness of sins, that Christ died for me, so forgive-
ness is for my sins as well. Praise the Lord!… And so I took for me the
forgiveness of sins. This was the first step. The second step [came] when
I discovered that we do not have a dead Saviour but a living Saviour with
whom we can come into a relationship. … The last step was when I dis-
covered that He is also Lord, … and so I accepted Him as my Lord and
Master. … This is the way I came to God. Now I knew I was born again
and I was a child of God. I knew that from now on everything must be
renewed in my life.11
Regarding the relationship between the Church and Bible, Cornilescu

remarked that, in Orthodox understanding and practice, the Bible is not
the ‘book of the people’, but the ‘book of the institution’. It was so inte-
grated into the liturgy that nobody who was not an expert in this area
could make the distinction between what was tradition and what was the
Word of God. Cornilescu decided to put the Bible in the hands of the
people and to encourage them to read it and to live in conformity with
its teaching. After six years of hard work, his Bible was ready for printing:
it was published by the Romanian Evangelical Society in 1921. Not long

time after this, the British Bible Society adopted Cornilescu’s translation
as its standard text; after its revision in 1924, some 100,000 copies of
Cornilescu’s version have been published annually.12 Indeed, Maianu
estimated that the British and Foreign Bible Society printed around five
million copies of Cornilescu’s Bible between 1921 and 1981.13
For Cornilescu, the Bible represented the source of authority for
both theology and practice. Therefore, as we have already mentioned,
he decided to spread the Bible among the laity and to encourage them
to read and study it regularly. Since the Bible and its interpretation
belong to the Church in the Orthodox tradition, individual believers
have tended not to be personally concerned with the message and analy-
sis of the Bible. Therefore, Cornilescu’s hope was that if people could
read the Bible for themselves, they would have the same experience of
conversion he had had. Indeed, he found that many people were look-
ing for ‘something more’ than the simple formalism and legalism in the
Church. So, in addition to the official liturgical services of the Orthodox
Church, Cornilescu organised regular small groups in his own house for
the purpose of studying the Bible. His ideas and goals were accepted and
supported by another Orthodox priest, Tudor Popescu; together, they
continued hosting these Bible study groups.
I close this brief presentation of Dumitru Cornilescu with this
reminder: not only did he experience a new life, but he also formed
around him many groups of people whom he helped to experience this
new life. They gathered together, usually on Sundays, for prayer and
Bible study. Even though Cornilescu’s major influence on renewal within
the Orthodox Church was through his translation of the Bible,14 he was
also directly involved in organising home groups where lots of Orthodox
believers experienced a renewal of their spiritual lives. The Orthodox
priest Tudor Popescu and his movement represent an example of how
renewal began within the Orthodox Church.
Tudor Popescu (1882–1963): The Preacher

of the New Life in Christ
The Orthodox priest Tudor Popescu was among the first to be directly
influenced by Dumitru Cornilescu’s new life and his translation of the
Bible. As soon as he convinced himself of the necessity of a new life in
Christ and a close relationship with Him, Popescu started to preach this
in his church. He insisted that Scripture was the ultimate authority for
doctrine and life. He preached that salvation comes only from faith in
Jesus Christ. His ultimate concern was to bring souls to Christ:
The only thing I am concerned with is to bring souls to Christ. I say to

everyone: You are a lost sinner. Christ died for sinners in order to save
them. Do you truly believe in Him? You are then saved. You don’t believe?
You are lost. What is your attitude toward this Jesus? Do you receive him
as a Saviour and Master of your life? It is on this that your eternal life
depends. Decide to follow him, or otherwise stop naming yourself with his
name! This is the content of every one of my sermons. …I did not and I
will not preach [anything] but the crucified Christ, and our life with him.
… The only thing that matters is to bring souls to Christ.15
His preaching was very successful: large crowds of people received his
message and were transformed by it. He took seriously all of the vital
questions to which the Orthodox Church did not pay attention, such as
eternal life, the judgement of God, the nature of God as it is revealed
in the Scriptures, and one’s position towards God, sin, forgiveness, sal-
vation, Jesus Christ, faith, Bible, a personal relationship with Jesus, and
the Gospels. Of course, he reinterpreted all of these issues from a biblical
perspective and from his experience of a new life in Christ, which, ulti-
mately, caused his expulsion from the Orthodox Church under the accu-
sation of being a ‘heretic’. Yet, his desire was to live and ‘work within the
Church in which I was born and in which I grew’.16
Moreover, together with Cornilescu, Popescu decided to publish
a journal named Adevărul Creştin (The Christian Truth) in order to
provide systematic biblical teachings for their new converts. In all their
teachings and writings, they emphasised the authority of the Bible
over the Church and its traditions. Therefore, they started to remove
those parts of the liturgy that, according to their new understanding of
things, were in contradiction with biblical teachings.17 All these changes
provoked a strong reaction from the Orthodox, which led to both
Cornilescu and Popescu being expelled from the Church.
After his expulsion, Popescu, with the help of Princess Calimachi
(who had also helped Cornilescu), built a new house and used it as an
independent church, where the emphasis was no longer on forms and
pre-established rituals, but on the fellowship of believers and preaching
the Word of God. Following Popescu’s example and direction, there
were many other such gatherings, especially in the central and southern
parts of Romania. These churches took his name and were thus known
as ‘Tudorian’ churches. These communities were independent until
the communists took power. Thereafter, they had to come under the
umbrella of one of the recognised denominations. Thus, the Tudorian
churches joined the Brethren denomination. However, even though they
were formally within this denomination, the Tudorian churches pre-
served their own teachings and practices. One practice that differentiated
the Tudorian church from the Brethren was that the Tudorians contin-
ued to practise infant baptism, while the Brethren only practised adult
baptism, which they administered to those who believed and confessed
in Jesus Christ.
It was only the rejection and condemnation by the Orthodox Church
of these two priests that determined their separation from Orthodoxy
and the creation of independent churches. Who knows where the
Orthodox Church would have been had it not rejected and expelled
these two great modern ‘prophets’. However, despite its desperate and
violent attempts to stop the Tudorians, the Church could not combat
a third wave of spiritual renewal initiated and developed by another
Orthodox priest, Iosif Trifa, the founder of the Lord’s Army.
Iosif Trifa (1888–1938): The Founder of the Romanian

Lord’s Army18
Iosif Trifa was born in 1888 in Certege, Turda district, not far from
Cluj-Napoca. He studied theology at the Orthodox Theological
Institute in Sibiu. Upon his graduation in 1910, he returned to his home
village as a schoolmaster and was then ordained as a priest in the local
Orthodox Church. The first essential thing that Trifa encountered, and
which had a tremendous impact on his future activity, was his ‘discovery’
of the Scriptures. No comment can substitute Trifa’s own testimony of
how he came to ‘know’ the Bible:
I think it will be useful if I will tell others how I knew the Bible. To be
honest I should confess from the very beginning that I didn’t know the
Bible well when I finished the seminary. On the contrary, the responsibility
for this sad reality rested neither on the shoulders of my beloved professors
nor on mine, their student. Rather the whole responsibility was due - and
is still due - to another circumstance: the unfit outfit of Cyrillic characters
in which the Bible we used in the seminary was dressed. This old cloth
should be changed today without any delay, otherwise it will prevent again
and again our young theologians and priests from penetrating the beautiful
treasures of the Bible. […]
I immediately realised that the ignorance of the Scriptures is an impossible
situation for me, a minister and a preacher of the Word! So one morning
I woke up with an irrevocable decision to end this state of affairs and to
begin to learn the Scriptures. I procured an edition of the New Testament
with Latin characters, the Psalms, and the Old Testament, I bound them
together in the best possible way and then I started to study them. […]
My whole strength, my whole value as a Christian, as a pastor, is taken

from the Bible and is given to me by the Bible. As a Christian it gives me
peace of soul that nobody can take away or disturb. It gives me the enthu-
siasm, courage, and love in my heart that nobody can put out. It gives me
the strength to endure a fight, to pass a difficulty, to overcome a sin.
As a pastor, it gives me everything I need to shepherd souls. In all my

pastoral duties the Bible accompanies me, enlightens me, advises me, and
strengthens me. It gives me the thrill, dimensions, and responsibility of my
ministry, of the gift with which I was invested. It gives me the warmth
of my heart and the light of my mind to proclaim the Word continually.
It gives me the enthusiasm and love, the continuous anxiety and pastoral
unrest, to make Jesus known by any means.
The Bible represents my daily relationship with the Saviour. Whenever I

open and read it, it’s like I feel something comes from it to me and thrills
my whole being: the Spirit of the Lord. … This daily relationship is my
strength, my value, my life. I have before me the Holy Book: the Bible. All
I am and all I have belong to it.
Take from me this Bible and you take from me everything, all my qualities.
Take everything and leave me the Bible - I won’t lose anything. Stop me from
reading it for a few days and you have given me the greatest punishment and
torture. A treasure I have found in the Bible, a holy treasure, for which alone
I live my life. I don’t hide this treasure and I’m not afraid to lose it: nothing
and no-one can take it or steal it from me. At the end of my life, with my last
movement, I will embrace it. With it I will pass away into the other world
because I have lived in this word with it and for it.
‘This is how I discovered the Bible and the benefits I had from knowing it’19
At about the same time, in 1920, the distinguished professor Dr. Nicolae
Bălan from the Orthodox Theological Seminary, Sibiu, was invested
as the Metropolitan of Ardeal, a large Romanian province. After his
installation, the metropolitan made it his goal to bring the people to the
light of the Gospel, as he himself declared on the occasion of his inaugu-
ral speech: ‘We will seek, together with the ministers of the altar, to raise
the conscience of our holy mission and to perfect the methods of our
supervision of souls… I want aliving church and a militant religiosity for
the fulfillment of the ideal’.20
In 1921, Metropolitan Nicolae Bãlan called Iosif Trifa to Sibiu and
made him the chaplain of the Orthodox Theological Seminary. In 1922,
Bãlan decided to publish a journal of religious education for Romanian
villages, The Light of the Villages,21 and named Trifa as its editor. Here
is what Trifa wrote in the first issue of the journal, which shows us his
strong convictions and aspirations:
The foundation of the new order in the village - and in the state - should
be the fear of God and the obedience to His Word. To start from the
beginning: from the faith and love of God… because without this begin-
ning, it will not be possible to do anything good and stable… There is
only one medicine that can give health and salvation to the world and to
the state: the people’s return to Jesus, to his teaching and his command-
ment of love. Then peace and good will among people and nations will
come.22
Armed with this kind of thinking and animated by the desire to change
and direct the hearts of people to Jesus, Trifa took full advantage of his
position at the journal and ‘preached’ for the whole year via his articles
against all the unrighteousness of individuals and the nation. Not only
was Trifa condemning the individual sins of people, he also denounced
the ‘absence’ and ‘silence’ of the Orthodox Church in this respect.
Referring to this fact, the great poet Traian Dorz23 wrote in his history:
‘while the orphans are dying, the people are suffering, the faith is being
lost, poverty is spreading, strangers are getting fat, and the devil is laugh-
ing—the Church is silent, inactive, and absent’.24 In such circumstances,
Trifa’s voice became more relevant and necessary. Indeed, Dorz remarks:
In all this struggle with the general evil, the voice of Lumina Satelor was
not the only one which was crying out. But it was the only one that had
the conviction that it is only a spiritual renewal that would stop the col-
lapse and would still be able to bring salvation. That it is only a total and
powerful return to Christ that can save and lift us up. That faith and His
Cross and Sacrifice is the only way of salvation… While others were giving
all sorts of ‘solutions’ and were prescribing all sorts of ‘remedies’ against
the illness of the country, Father Iosif was insisting on the only salvific
remedy possible: Christ.25
For a whole year, Trifa used the opportunity to call people to repent-
ance and to a new life; however, despite such intense activity, he felt that
all his efforts were futile. He realised that no one took action or put his
appeals into practice. ‘Around the beginning of 1923’, he would write
later, ‘I was considering my ten years of activity as a village priest, and
one year as an editor at Lumina Satelor; I was painfully realising my
11 years of futility, of no results’.26 And so, this man of God reached a
moment of crisis. On thinking about the desperate state of people with-
out Christ, his heart was broken. He felt guilty that he had not done
anything to change this state of affairs: ‘What did I do so that Christ
would be brought to people, and people brought to Christ?’ This was
the hopeless question that Trifa asked himself over and over again. He
repented once more, dedicated himself fully to Christ, and made a new
covenant that he would use a different strategy. Out of this moment
of crisis, a decision was born: to call people to take action and to fight
against sin, especially against the two most popular ones, drunkenness
and cursing. His action had tremendous consequences, and multitudes
of people responded to his appeal by signing the ‘Decision’ he distrib-
uted. This represents the beginning of the Lord’s Army. Here is the way
the initiator of this movement described this critical moment a few years
later:
The plan for the Army of the Lord came out of a prayer. Around New Year
1923, reflecting on the pagan custom that people have of spending their
New Year enjoying themselves in drinking and cursing and having it in
mind to write an article, some drunken men passed by my window shout-
ing and screaming. At that moment I knelt at my bureau and prayed: Lord
God, the wickedness and darkness is overcoming us, the flood of unright-
eousness is upon us… people are sinking into spiritual death… O Lord,
give us more strength in our struggle against the darkness and the devil …
Come Lord Jesus, for again it is stormy on the sea of our life…
So when I started to write the article about the New Year, an idea came
into my mind that I should write a call for a fight against sins, followed by
a Decision, things that I immediately did…27
Since this ‘Decision’ is very relevant to our discussion, I will reproduce

the complete text. This represents the constitutional event and germ of
the subsequent renewal movement known as the Lord’s Army:
All those who want to enter into this open battle against drinking and
cursing will sign this decision. Then you should put this signed decision on
the wall of your house, and especially in your heart, so that you will have it
with you throughout the year …and so you will be able to see how many
of you have fought till the end the good fight for the defeat of Satan and
for our salvation.
Dear reader, be among those who sign this decision and enter yourself into
the Army of those who decide for the Saviour Christ and for the battle
against sins. Obey the voice and prayer of my heart and sign and keep the
following decision:
DECISION
The undersigned ….., thinking about how I should enter into the New Year in
a useful way for the salvation of my soul, decide through the present declara-
tion that with the beginning of the New Year I will renounce drinking and
cursing. I realise what great sins are they.
Through this I enter into the line of those who decide like me to be good soldiers
of Christ. To begin the holy battle for the purification of our many and heavy
sins.
Ahead of our army is the Saviour Christ, and He will lead us to victory.
Asking my Saviour Jesus Christ to help me to fight in his Army, I sign this
decision that was made for my good and my salvation.
Given at …on New Year 1923
N. N. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Subscriber of the journal Lumina Satelor28
Four months later, in the Easter issue of the journal, Trifa published the
list of the first ‘soldiers’. This was the moment of conception for the
Romanian Lord’s Army. This initial step was followed by subsequent and
concentrated efforts towards the establishment and consolidation of the
movement.
The Lord’s Army: A Biblically Based Renewal Movement

in the Romanian Orthodox Church
The Foundation of the Lord’s Army. Very soon after everything started,
Trifa realised that the ‘decision’ in itself was not enough. To say ‘no’ to
some sins was not sufficient. To be simply soldiers of the ‘army’ did not
necessarily help. Trifa understood that people had to go deeper to find
knowledge of Jesus Christ as their personal Saviour. Since people do not
have the capacity to live a holy life when they lose their personal relation-
ship with Jesus Christ, Trifa was absolutely convinced that all decisions
made by such people cannot produce the renewal which can be accom-
plished alone by Christ through the Holy Spirit. Thus, the basis of the
new movement was a personal relationship with Christ. This was empha-
sised from the very beginning in Trifa’s writings:
We must go further to advance towards the gift and the light of our
Saviour Jesus Christ from the New Testament. Allow therefore the light
and love of the Saviour to enter your house and to enlighten your spirit,
to clean all of your sins… You cannot bear good fruits because you do not
have a relationship with Jesus the Saviour. … As long as you will not enter
into a living relationship with Jesus, my sermons and my advice are useless.
… The strength of a real destiny is the relationship that one has made, and
continues to have, with the Saviour.29
The Establishment of the Lord’s Army. Once the ‘army’ got moving, it
spread vigorously and became a massive movement. Yet, as a newly
constituted group, it had to be clearly defined so that everybody knew
what it believed and what its goals were. Therefore, Trifa, as its spiritual
leader, immediately had to think through the different options available
to define and build the movement. Thus, there were general meetings
of the ‘soldiers’ from different parts of the country. Gatherings in vil-
lages were held and special groups of ‘soldiers’ formed to study the Bible
together and to offer mutual encouragement. However, probably one of
the most important means Trifa had at his disposal was the weekly jour-
nal The Light of the Villages, where he published numerous articles that
defined for all the fundamental principles of the Lord’s Army.
Thus, for example, in several successive issues of his journal from
1928, he published a document called the Small Regulation for Those
Who Have Entered and Those Who Want to Enter the Lord’s Army. Among
the most important regulations were the necessity of a new life after one
has first finished with his previous, sinful way of living, obedience and
absolute surrender before God according to the example of Christ, and
continuous training to become a skilful soldier of Christ by means of
prayer, church attendance, partaking in the sacraments, and daily reading
of the Bible and other Christian literature. A soldier of the Lord must be
active, fight constantly for the extension of the Kingdom of God, and
bring others to salvation. The regulations also required complete absti-
nence from alcoholic drinks, smoking, and swearing.
When Trifa wrote his foundational book Ce este Oastea Domnului?
(What is the Lord’s Army?), he outlined the purpose and strategy of
the movement. There are basically four major themes that stand out
as foundational for the life and activity of the Lord’s Army:30 (1) The
crucified Christ stands as the core principle in their teaching. The cross
is the door to salvation and the key to victory over temptation and sin.
(2) The struggle against sin and the importance of living righteous lives
comes through a true understanding of Christ’s victory on the cross.
For Trifa, the sign of the cross ‘has the power to drive away Satan only
when we put it in the framework of the sacrifice of the cross, especially as
we receive the gift of the sacrifice, Jesus the Saviour and his victory’. (3)
Moral and ethical renewal comes through personally encountering Christ
on the cross. Trifa emphasises receiving Jesus and His gifts, the need for
the Church to wage war against sin and evil, regular Bible study as the
foundation for personal piety, and the danger of alcohol consumption,
which curses not only individuals but whole nations. (4) The Army of
the Lord exists through lay and voluntary involvement. Trifa defined the
Army of the Lord as a grassroots, Bible-based force for revitalising the
Romanian Orthodox Church.
As we have already mentioned, evangelism represented one of the key
emphases of the Army of the Lord, and I will briefly note here the five
specific means of evangelism that Trifa commends: (1) the daily life of
a Christian, which he defines as the best sermon; (2) acts of mercy; (3)
love and prayer; (4) forgiveness and suffering; and (5) the distribution of
Christian literature. Interestingly, Trifa is silent about the role of liturgy,
the Church, and icons in salvation and spirituality. This fact, we will see,
explains the controversy surrounding his writings and the movement he
founded. Rather than the traditional Orthodox emphasis upon mystical
union with God, he expresses his understanding of salvation and witness
in a language more commonly associated with Western Protestantism.
Theological Emphases in the Teaching

of the Lord’s Army
There are five theological emphases that can be traced in the teaching of
the Romanian Lord’s Army. A few remarks will be made about each of
these basic principles. At the end of the section, I will comment on an
extremely important point for the Lord’s Army, namely the role of the
Bible.
(1) Personal relationship with Jesus, accepting him by faith as Saviour
and Lord. Trifa understood that the secret of salvation and the power of
his Army were and always will be in Christ, in the living sacrifice of the
crucified Christ. After he found Christ and received Him as a personal
Saviour, Trifa did not tire of calling people to Christ as the only One able
to give humanity life according to the will of God. In fact, this was the
very essence and motto of the whole movement: ‘The Army of the Lord
is to find and to proclaim Jesus, the Crucified’.31 Here are Trifa’s own
words on what Jesus meant for him:
All the ministry of our salvation consists only in the Cross and Sacrifice
of Jesus, the Crucified. The Cross and His Sacrifice at Calvary has made
our salvation possible. Without this our struggle and labour is in vain. Our
whole struggle and all our hope for salvation consists only in our faith and
unconditional trust in the Cross and the living Sacrifice of Jesus Christ. In
fact, the entire ministry of the Lord’s Army is to find and proclaim Jesus,
the Crucified… Thus, we find that the first and greatest need of the nation
and of our people consists exclusively in a living knowledge of Christ. If we
could really have Christ, we will miss nothing. We would get everything
through Him and with Him, for in Him we have completion.32
While the very conception of the Army was associated more with the
idea of a personal struggle against the two sins of drinking and cursing,
Trifa later realised that:
It is not drink and cursing that are the greatest evil from which our nation
suffers - the greatest evil is that we do not know and follow Jesus, the
Crucified. For if we would have Him, not only would we no longer live in
these horrible sins, but we would all walk in the holiness and the joy of the
wonderful light of God…. Thus, it comes more powerful and deeper, as
the Cornerstone of the Ministry, the foundation of knowing and receiving
Jesus Christ as a personal Saviour by everyone who really wants the salva-
tion of the soul as well as the salvation of our nation.33
There are two interesting aspects that we find in the theology of Trifa
in this regard. First, he redefined one’s status before God on the basis
of one’s personal relationship with Jesus Christ according to John 1:12.
Second, the victorious Christian life is also conditioned by one’s rela-
tionship with Jesus: ‘we also have to live a victorious life. But we can
experience this victory only by receiving the Lord and his gifts of victory,
won for us through the sacrifice on the cross, at Calvary’.34 Finally, in the
teaching of the Lord’s Army, the only foundation for salvation consists in
receiving Christ as a personal Saviour and Lord.
(2) The New Birth. The second great principle or concept in the the-
ology of the Lord’s Army is ‘the mystery the new birth’ or ‘the mys-
tery of conversion’. Dorz connects the first two principles and says: ‘The
miracle of discovering Christ produces in our being another miracle: the
secret and divine work of the new birth’.35 According to the teaching of
the Lord’s Army, new birth means inner transformation through Jesus
Christ and the work of the Holy Spirit, who brings new life from God in
the one being born again. In order to distinguish and differentiate the
new birth from infant baptism as practised by the Orthodox Church,
Trifa supported his position with two examples from the Church
fathers: St Athanasius the Great, who even speaks of three births, and
St John Chrysostom, who emphasised that ‘it is not enough to be born
Christian, you must become a Christian’.36 Here is what the father of the
Lord’s Army wrote about new birth, underlining that the Holy Spirit has
a major role:
The new birth is a big mystery in which the greatest work belongs to God
and not to man. From his side, man cannot do much, but… accept the
Lord and his sacrifice; then the Holy Spirit begins to work towards a new
birth. …Only those who truly find and accept the Lord are able to under-
stand and receive this mystery. The new birth is a hidden work of the Holy
Spirit, but the fruit of this work is a change in the foundations of a man’s
life, a new life.37
The biblical basis for this teaching was found in texts such as John 3:3-5;
4:14 and Tit 3:5 (‘he saved us, not because of any works of righteous-
ness that we had done, but according to his mercy, through the water of
rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit’). Furthermore, it is emphasised

that it is the Word of God that bears in itself the divine seed with the
capacity to bring a soul to life and regenerate it (1 Peter 1:23: ‘You have
been born anew, not of perishable but of imperishable seed, through the
living and enduring word of God’). So we have seen that the Holy Spirit
awakens sinners, convinces them of their sins and their helplessness, and
presents Christ to them, the only chance of obtaining acceptance before
God. Yet, one must respond with faith and repentance.
(3) Repentance. In the teaching of the Army of the Lord, repentance
consists of three things: the recognition of sins, the confession of sins,
and breaking with the sinful past.
The recognition of sins comes through the light of the Holy Spirit and
through Scripture. This allows people to understand that their sins hurt
God, that sins obstruct their access to God, and that sin’s wage is death.
When someone understands this, he or she experiences grief and pain for
his or her sins, which leads to repentance: ‘Repentance has great impor-
tance in the work of our salvation. Repentance leads to the forgiveness
of sins. … The first door is the recognition of the terrible state of sin. …
This recognition must open the next door—repentance for sin’.38
The confession of sins is based on three biblical excerpts: Prov. 28:13
(‘No-one who conceals transgressions will prosper, but one who con-
fesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy’); Psalm 32:3-5 (‘While I kept
silence, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long. For
day and night, your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried
up as by the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and
I did not hide my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to
the LORD”, and you forgave the guilt of my sin’); and 1 John 1:9 (‘If
we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins
and cleanse us from all unrighteousness’). ‘The sign that one has truly
entered the grace of repentance’, says Trifa, ‘is exactly when the person
starts to confess without shame his past and his sins’.39
The complete break with sin represents the third element of repent-
ance and involves redirecting one’s life: if one used to live in unright-
eousness and sin, repentance will mean the interruption of this kind of
life and living for God in future.
(4) The Assurance of Salvation. Another concept extremely important
in the theology of the Army of the Lord is the assurance of salvation, the
certainty of belonging to Christ and of knowing Him personally. In one
of his books, The Ark of Noah, Trifa wrote an interesting chapter entitled
‘The ark was floating with salvation over the waters of death—all those
entered in it had the absolute assurance of their salvation’. By using
Noah’s story, he illustrates the assurance of salvation that those who have
received Christ should possess:
After Noah entered the ark and God locked the door, he was in total assur-
ance. … He was not afraid since God locked the door and was watching it.
… Noah had the assurance of salvation. God himself was his certainty. The
ark was under the protection of God. The flood was the scourge and wrath
of God, but the ark - and only the ark- was taken out of this scourge. It
was under the love, forgiveness, and protection of God. … Noah’s assur-
ance is an icon of the believer’s assurance, of those saved by the precious
blood of the Saviour. … All those who received and are truly receiving
Jesus the Saviour and his holy sacrifice have absolute assurance of their sal-
vation (John 5:24). Thus, we have full assurance of salvation in the pre-
cious sacrifice of our precious Saviour.40
From the perspective of the Lord’s Army, an authentic Christian enjoys

certainty, the certainty of knowledge of the Lord; he knows that he is
rescued from the punishment of sin and hell and rejoices in the salva-
tion that God has already started to work in his heart. They emphasise
the biblical teachings from Romans 8:14-16 (‘For all who are led by the
Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of
slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption.
When we cry, “Abba! Father!” it is that very Spirit bearing witness with
our spirit that we are children of God’) and 1 John 3:2 (‘Beloved, we are
God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we
do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see
him as he is’).
(5) Evangelism. As we have seen from the origins of the Lord’s Army,
Trifa experienced the miracle of conversion and then devoted himself
fully to evangelisation. His ultimate purpose was for people to know
Jesus Christ:
The Lord’s Army is first and foremost an evangelistic movement… The

social reforms come only from the great spiritual reformation, following
the example of our Great Teacher, who has not reformed the world by
social, financial, and political reforms but by the great reform of souls. The
reforms will come by themselves when we will have a Christian world and
true Christians.41
There is great emphasis in the teachings of the Army of the Lord that
every single ‘soldier’ should be active and not indifferent to those who
have not yet found Jesus. It is not enough only to taste personally the
joy of the new life, it is also necessary to bring new souls to Christ.
Regarding the means of evangelism, Trifa suggests two very important
ones: through personal example (good deeds, love, prayer, patience, suf-
fering, and forgiveness) and through books and religious literature.
Our life and our deeds represent the best sermon and the greatest help for
bringing souls to the Saviour. When you live a life according to the Gospel,
then your life in the midst of people becomes the salt that salts and pre-
serves life […]
Let us go to prisons, hospitals and wherever there are suffering people,

and let us give them material and spiritual help. They are people who can-
not be brought to salvation otherwise than through the parable of the
Samaritan put into practice […]
Always use prayer in your efforts to win souls for the Saviour and for the
Army. Prayer does wonderful things here… Cover always the sinners with
prayers, with evangelical love, and you will have great victories […]
Let us spread everywhere Bibles, psalms, books, and religious pamphlets.

Every single soldier of the Lord must distribute books and religious tracts
because through this he becomes a sower of the evangelical light and he
will win many souls for Christ.42
The Role of the Bible. Throughout its existence, the Lord’s Army valued
the Bible as the only source of renewal for the Church. It is only the light
of the Gospel, the power of the Word that can awaken people to a new
life. It was the strong conviction and goal of the founder of the Lord’s
Army that the Bible should be taken out of church and delivered to fami-
lies, society at large, the whole nation, and the rest of the world: this was
the mission of every single man and woman. Trifa devoted a special place
to the Bible in The Light of the Villages. Moreover, in order to encourage
the reading and spread of the Bible, he initiated, within the same jour-
nal, a ‘Bible school’ to encourage deeper study with monetary rewards
and other gifts. This developed, eventually, into a regular practice of the
Army of the Lord, which soon afterwards started evening ‘Bible schools’
where people had the opportunity to study the Bible together and get to
know it better. Here are a few words of Trifa on this matter:
The Bible is the most widely spread book on Earth. Even this tells us that
it is not an ordinary book but the Book of God. Therefore, whoever takes
the Bible in his hands must take it as a letter from God… We have devoted
this issue of our journal to the Bible in order to make this Book of Life
known to our readers. The Light of the Villages thus brings to them not
only news that changes from day to day, but also the Word of God that
remains forever the same.43
Finally, we will say that probably the most important aspect with regard
to the Lord’s Army focus on the Bible is that it has always insisted that it
is only in the Bible that people can find Jesus Christ, the sole foundation
of salvation.
The Practical Emphasis in the Life of the Lord’s Army. It is known
from the history of the universal Church that having correct theology,
though extremely important, does not automatically guarantee a success-
ful and victorious Christian life. There must always be appropriate means
by which true teachings and doctrines can find their way into the every-
day life and experiences of the believer. The Lord’s Army found a won-
derful way by which to combine theory and practice into an attractive
lifestyle. One of the key factors behind this achievement was the gather-
ing of the Army.
The Gathering
The founder of the Lord’s Army restored to regular meetings of the con-
gregation the atmosphere of the early Church, where people had the
freedom to manifest their spiritual gifts. He often referred to and quoted
from the apostle Paul’s advice to the Corinthians: ‘What should be done
then, my friends? When you come together, each one has a hymn, a les-
son, a revelation, a tongue, or an interpretation. Let all things be done
for building up’ (1 Cor. 14:26). However, at the centre of every meeting
of the Army should always be the Lord Jesus Christ:
Brothers, do not forget the promise of Mathew 18:20: Wherever two or

three soldiers are together, they gather in the name of the precious prom-
ise of the Saviour: ‘For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am
there among them.’ … The gathering of the Army is a gathering in the
name of the Lord Jesus, around the cross…, a gathering of souls that call
Jesus in their midst.44
There are three distinctive elements that characterise the meetings of the
Lord’s Army. I will illustrate each of these aspects with a representative
quotation from Trifa.
(1) The Reading of the Bible
The meetings of the Army of the Lord should be first of all a school of the
Bible, a Bible school. And this school lasts for for an entire life. … In the
gatherings of the Army, all the soldiers able to read should have the Bible.
As a schoolboy does not go to school without his books, in the same way
there can be no students without the book, the book of life. A true soldier
can be only a biblical soldier; only a soldier armed with the sword of the
Holy Spirit, which is the Word of God - Ephesians 6:23.45
(2) Praying together
Another element of the meetings of the Army of the Lord must be prayer
with the whole congregation. The soldiers of the Lord must learn to pray
together around the cross of the Saviour. The soldiers of the Lord must
learn to pray not only from the prayer books but also with their own
words. Prayer with specific and personal words is a sign of the work of the
Spirit. For such a prayer both the Holy Spirit and the mind of man work
together.46
(3) Singing together
Singing together must be another element in the meetings of the Army.

In addition to this, there can also be readings from religious books, recita-
tions of religious poems, there can be speeches and other useful things…47
The Reaction of the Orthodox Church

The renewal movements initiated in the first part of the twentieth cen-
tury within the Romanian Orthodox Church by Dumitru Cornilescu,
Tudor Popescu, and Iosif Trifa had had but one purpose: to motivate
the Orthodox Church to rediscover the fundamental value of biblical
Christianity and to return to her true mission: to serve God and repre-
sent Him in the midst of the Romanian nation, to help people come to
the Gospel and to a personal and living relationship with Jesus Christ,
the only hope for salvation, and to teach them the transformation of life
that is in Christ. It should be stated once more that none of these priests
wanted to leave the Orthodox Church to start a new denomination.

They all wished to work within their own Church. At the same time,
however, they were ready to pay any price to bring to all people what
they had found themselves: a new, fresh, and vital relation with their
Saviour, Jesus Christ.
However, the Orthodox Church was very resistant to these attempts
to create a spiritual and theological renewal, even though none of these
movements were contrary to the Bible. Thus, for example, the Romanian
Orthodox Church avoided any kind of discussion with Cornilescu
regarding the authority of the Bible. In a similar way, it avoided criti-
cal reflection on the difference between Cornilescu’s concepts and
those of the Church on the relation between Scripture and Church
and instead preferred to reiterate its official position. They rejected
Cornilescu’s teachings, arguing that they were Protestant and thus heret-
ical. Also, because of Cornilescu’s wide distribution of the Bible among
the Orthodox, especially through the ‘soldiers’ of the Lord’s Army, the
Church took strong repressive actions in order to stop this phenomenon.
With the help of the state, the Church started to persecute and pro-
hibit all other religious movements existing at this time. However, the
Orthodox Church did not succeed in this attempt, despite all her efforts.
As a result of Orthodox reactions, Dumitru Cornilescu had to leave
the country under the pressure of the Church: he never returned.
Since the Orthodox Church did not accept his theology, he eventually
left it and became part of a Brethren community. In the same way, the
Orthodox Church rejected and expelled Tudor Popescu from the priest-
hood. Following the example of his predecessor, he founded an inde-
pendent church movement where he continued to preach the new life he
had found in Christ.
Iosif Trifa experienced the same fate, even though he did not manifest
any willingness to leave the Orthodox Church. In fact, even after they
expelled him from the priesthood, Trifa did not abandon the Church:
he remained there to continue his battle for the spiritual renewal of his
Brethren. And so did the Army of the Lord, which, despite resistance,
is still today within the Orthodox Church, representing the hope of
renewal for the old and occasionally ‘tired’ mother Church!
The accusations that the Orthodox Church brought against the
Lord’s Army and Trifa focused on two major issues (among many). First
is the fact that the Orthodox Church denies any possibility for a person
to enter into a relationship with Jesus Christ other than through the
mediation of an official representative of the Church. Closely related to

this was the teaching of the Lord’s Army about the new birth as an event
that takes place at a mature age, when one accepts Christ and returns
to God. This teaching thus denied the Orthodox doctrine of baptism,
according to which the person experiences a new birth through the very
act of baptism. Therefore, the Orthodox Church also rejected this teach-
ing as heresy. The second important accusation against Trifa consisted
of the fact that he refused to deliver the leadership of the Lord’s Army
to the hierarchy of the Orthodox Church. For several years, the official
Church tried to take over this movement. However, as Trifa observed, all
the Church wanted was to transform this movement of spiritual renewal
into an organisation for cultural education.
Thus, although the Orthodox Church has accepted and tolerated
the Lord’s Army within its walls, it has always manifested resistance to
it, which has sometimes been strong. Experiencing this continual rejec-
tion, many of the leaders and ‘soldiers’ of the Army preferred to leave
the Orthodox Church and join different evangelical denominations. The
one great leader of the Army of the Lord who fought against this ten-
dency was Traian Dorz, whose many followers struggled to carry on the
renewal of the Orthodox Church from within. There is no doubt, how-
ever, that because of its teachings and theological emphasis on Scripture
and a personal relationship with Christ, the Lord’s Army will always
remain in tension with the Orthodox Church.
Traian Dorz (1914–1989): The Peasant Poet and Leader

of the Romanian Lord’s Army
One cannot write even a brief note on the Romanian Lord’s Army, as
I have attempted in this chapter, without making at least a short refer-
ence to Traian Dorz, a peasant who became one of the most important
Christian poets and writers in Romania and who consolidated and led the
Lord’s Army after the death of Trifa until the collapse of communism in
1989. As an only child born to a well-off village family in Bihor, Dorz
was a lover and devourer of books. The story goes that before he was
14, he finished reading all of the books in the school library as well as
in the library of his teacher. No wonder that one of the sayings he left
for posterity was that ‘a person has three urgent needs: bread, books, and
God’.48 One particular book, which he received as a gift for successfully
completing his first seven years of school, was to mark him significantly for
his entire life and ministry: Trifa’s Noah’s Ark. This was his first encounter
with the renewal movement which would consume his entire life.
From the early age of 15, Dorz began to write poems and short reli-
gious stories, which were published in the various religious magazines of
the Lord’s Army in Sibiu. When he was 20, Dorz was called by Trifa
to help him edit and publish for the Lord’s Army. His first volumes of
poems began to appear at this time. Between 1935 and 1947, he pub-
lished 12 volumes of poems and also made substantial contributions in
many publications from around the country.49 With the ascension of
the communist regime in Romania in 1948, a new phase of persecution
began for the faith and all believers. For Dorz, arrests, imprisonment,
labour camps, and house arrests became constants in his life. Between
1948 and 1964, he directly faced terror and suffering in communist pris-
ons in Gherla, Oradea, Ghencea (Bucharest), and Caransebes, and two
forced labour camps in Popesti-Leordeni and Periprava Grind. After he
was released from prison in 1964, he was kept under house arrest in his
native village and forced to work in agriculture while being very closely
monitored by the secret police. Despite these harsh realities, Dorz con-
tinues to write very intensely throughout these years, especially at night.
Dorz’s entire literary work comes to more than 100 published vol-
umes. He wrote more than 10,000 poems and rhyming proverbs, gath-
ered in some 36 volumes. Dorz also wrote many prose books: four
volumes on the history of the Lord’s Army, four volumes of short sto-
ries, seven volumes of meditations on the Gospel of John, 28 volumes
in the series Eternal Reflections, eight volumes of daily meditations on
Psalms, an autobiography, a history of the Lord’s Army, and books
for children.50 It is absolutely remarkable that this simple man had an
exceptionally unique talent for poetry and writing: his profound biblical
and spiritual poems remain a great inspiration to many. The Romanian
Orthodox Patriarch summarised his legacy well:
The poems and songs of brother Traian Dorz are inspired by the Holy
Gospel and have a spiritual and moral content that is accessible to all
believers of all ages; they cultivate the love for Christ and for people
through their poetic-popular sensibilities.51
More than anything, it was his life of suffering, imprisonment, and pain
which shaped Dorz. In total, Dorz spent seven years in military service
and/or war, 17 years in prison, and another ten years of being forbidden
from attending any public event. However, he understood that all this
suffering was God’s mysterious wisdom and gracious way of preparing
his heart and life for his ministry. He says:
Later in life I understood that all the trials and sufferings I had to go
through in my life were God’s hidden wisdom, who was working at a won-
derful plan for my life. He was preparing, through these sufferings … my
heart and all my being for the ministry I had to do. They were like sharp
and painful ploughs that were supposed to cut deeply in me – preparing
the soil of my being for the seed that was to come, for the tears that were
to come, for the songs that were to raise up, to grow, and bring fruit later
on.”52
This particular understanding of suffering may explain why the major

theme of his literary work was Golgotha as the spring of eternal love and
the victory of the resurrection of the crucified Christ. Indeed, in all he
wrote, Dorz portrayed the complete and perfect love of God that was
manifested in Jesus. And even if the poet experienced much suffering
and pain in his life, through all his poems and songs he was known and
will be remembered as the great poet of love, light, faith, and humility.53
His poems and hymns are sung today not only at the gatherings of the
Lord’s Army, but also in many of the Romanian Evangelical churches:
his great legacy is yet to be assessed. I am deeply aware that these brief
lines do not even begin to do justice to this great man of God. I do
hope, however, that I have managed to arouse interest by introducing
the readers of this book to the amazing personality and accomplishments
of this poet and leader of the Romanian Lord’s Army.
Conclusion
In conclusion, it is my hope that this chapter has helped us to take a
fresh look at some significant developments in Romanian Christianity
at the beginning of the twentieth century. We have learned about three
Orthodox priests (Cornilescu, Popescu, and Trifa) and how they discov-
ered for themselves the true teaching and authority of the Bible and tried
to preach in their churches the biblical teachings of salvation through a
personal relationship with Jesus Christ. We also saw that their work has
had a great impact on many Orthodox believers. We have similarly seen
the amazing legacy of Traian Dorz, the peasant poet and leader of the
Lord’s Army.
The rediscovery of the centrality of the Bible fundamentally con-
tributed to the establishment and growth of the Lord’s Army, a fasci-
nating phenomenon within the Orthodox Church. For a ‘soldier’ of
the Lord’s Army, being a Christian does not just mean membership in
the traditional and historical Orthodox Church. On the contrary, being
a Christian means having a close and intimate relationship with Jesus
Christ, experiencing the reality and joy of salvation, reading and studying
the Bible regularly, transforming the mind and life towards the likeness
of Christ, telling others the good news of salvation, living life under the
lordship of Jesus Christ, and expressing in everyday life the principles of
Christian ethics.
The spread of the new Bible in Romania and the vitality of the Lord’s
Army also had a positive effect upon the Orthodox Church. It started to
give the Bible a central place in the liturgy and outside it, which had a
beneficial effect on the life of the Church as a whole. These events have
generated an internal dynamism within the Romanian Orthodox Church
that, in many respects, is a unique phenomenon in the Orthodox world.
As Timothy Ware rightly remarks: ‘Among all the Orthodox Churches,
except the Greek Church, the Romanian Church is unmistakably
the most vigorous in its external life and enjoys the strongest popular
support’.54
Finally, I would like to add that this study has illustrated once more
that an authentic renewal of the Church can only spring forth from a
rediscovery of both the fundamental value of the Bible and the centrality
of the person of Jesus Christ. This gives us a great and legitimate hope
for the future: whenever the Church may go astray from its mission and
destiny, there will always be the Scriptures, an unfailing source to redirect
the Church and to guide it back to its original purpose in and for the
world.
Notes
1. The Lord’s Army movements among Romanians in Serbia see Mircea
Măran’s chapter in this volume.
2. This is a revised and extended version of a paper which was previously
published in KAIROS—Evangelical Journal of Theology 5 (2011): 35–48.
3. I will refer briefly only to the main aspects of the activity and influence
of Dumitru Cornilescu. For a better and longer treatment of the sub-
ject in English, see Constantineanu, The Modern Romanian Translation
and Reformation Attempts within the Romanian Orthodox Church,
unpublished thesis, presented to the Evangelical Theological Seminary,
Osijek, Croatia for the Associate of Theology Degree, 1997a, b. For a
thoroughly documented and researched academic study of the history of
Cornilescu’s translation of the Bible, see Contac (2014).
4. There are three major sources that I am using for the life and activity of
Dumitru Cornilescu. First is his own testimony (1988): ‘Cum m-am
and how I told others’); I. Ţon (1994) Credinţa Adevărată (The True
întors la Dumnezeu şi cum am spus şi altora’ (‘How I turned to God
Faith), and Paul Negruţ’s published Ph.D. dissertation (1996) Revelaţie,

Scriptură, Comuniune: O interogare asupra autorităţii în cunoaşterea
teologică (Revelation, Scripture, Communion: An interrogation of
authority in theological knowledge). Unless otherwise noted by direct
quotation, the information I am giving here comes from these sources.
5. Among the writers whom he read were F. Thomas, F. Bettex, R. A.
Torrey, S. D. Gordon, J. H. M. Conkey, G. Muller, C. H. Mackintosh,
and others (Negruţ (1996), Revelaţie, 121).
6. Cornilescu (1988, pp. 103).
7. As quoted by Negruţ (1996), Revelaţie, 122. This quotation and all
the others from Romanian authors represent my own translation.
Cornilescu’s comment on the poor quality of the Romanian translation
of the Bible raises the question of the place of the Bible in the life of the
8. See Maianu as quoted by Ţon (1994), pp. 108–115.

Romanian Orthodox Church at the beginning of the twentieth century.

9. Negrut (1996), 129.
Ţon (1994, pp. 106–107).

10. Ibid., 130.
11.
12. Negruţ (1996), p. 132.
13. For comprehensive and exhaustive documentation, as well as the fasci-
nating story of Cornilescu’s translation of the Bible into Romanian, see
Emanuel Contac (2014), Cornilescu.
14. Later on, when other renewal movements started, they exclusively used
Cornilescu’s translation of the Bible, which made it possible for these
movements to grow very quickly. Cornilescu’s Bible had an immense
impact on the spread of the neo-Protestant groups and the Evangelical
churches in Romania. The Orthodox Church, however, soon rejected his
translation as being ‘Protestant’ and did not allow their adherents to read
it.
Church, as quoted by Ţon (1994, pp. 122–123).

15. T. Popescu in his defence to the patriarchate of the Romanian Orthodox
16. Ibid., 124.
17. Negrut (1996), p. 133.
18. For this chapter, I am grateful to Nicolae Pavel (1994), a leader of the
Lord’s Army, who made available his diploma work, The Theology of Iosif
Trifa, from which I obtained valuable and unique information, which
would have otherwise been almost impossible to obtain, regarding the
life, theology, and ministry of Iosif Trifa.
19. Trifa (1921, pp. 252).
20. Pravila Oastei Domnului, 1937, pp. 1–2.
21. Its full title in Romanian was Lumina Satelor - foaie saptaminala pentru
Ţon (1994, pp. 141–142).

popor (The Light of the Villages—a weekly paper for the people).
22.
23. He was one of the disciples of Trifa and became the leader of the Lord’s
Army after the latter’s death. He wrote a valuable history of this move-
ment from its very beginnings: Pentru istoria unei jertfe - Marturii despre
Ţon (1994, pp. 142).

începutul şi primii 12 ani ai Oastei Domnului.
24.
25. Ibid., pp. 142.
26. Trifa (1936, pp. 34).
28. Ţon (1994, pp. 144–145).

27. Ibid., pp. 34.

29. Trifa, Mai linga Domnul meu, in Pavel (1994), 10.
30. As they are summarised by Keppeler (1994a, b, pp. 8–9).
32. As quoted by Dorz, History, in Ţon (1994, pp. 147–148).

31. Trifa (1934a, b, pp. 21).

33. Ibid., pp. 148.
35. As quoted by Ţon (1994, pp. 146).

34. Trifa (1934a, b, pp. 61).

36. Foaia Oastei Domnului (50/1933), in Pavel (1994), 11.
37. Trifa (1930, pp. 68–69).
38. Trifa (1929, pp. 12).
39. Tilcuirea Evangeliilor, in Pavel (1994), 18.
40. As quoted by Pavel (1994), 24.
41. Ibid., pp. 27.
43. Ţon (1994, pp. 154–156).

42. Trifa (1934a, b, pp. 142–143).

44. Trifa (1934a, b, pp. 175, 182).
45. Ibid., pp. 178.
46. Ibid., pp. 178.
47. Ibid., pp. 179.

48. Dorz, pp. 51.
49. Chirca (2015).
50. For a complete and detailed description of his writings up to 1980, see his
own list in Dorz (1995, pp. 417–421).
51. Chirca (2015).
52. Dorz (1994, pp. 19).
53. Oastea Domnului, “Traian Dorz”, http://www.oasteadomnului.ro/tra-
ian-dorz/ accessed 10 September 2015.
54. Ware (1993, pp. 176).
References
Chirca, Viorel. 2015. “Poetul şi scriitorul creştin Traian Dorz- scurtă biografie”.
Available at http://presagalati.ro/poetul-si-scriitorul-crestin-traian-dorz-scurta-
biografie/. Accessed on August 28.
Contac, Emanuel. 2014. Cornilescu: din culisele celei mai citite traduceri a Sfintei
Scripturi [Cornilescu. Unveiling the Story of the Most Widely Read Romanian
Version of the Bible]. Cluj-Napoca: Editura Logos.
Constantineanu, Corneliu. 1997a. The Romanian Lord’s Army: A Case Study in
the Eastern Orthodox Church Renewal. Unpublished thesis submitted to the
Evangelical Theological Seminary, Osijek.
Constantineanu, Ioana. 1997b. The Modern Romanian Translation of the
Bible and the Renewal Attempts within the Romanian Orthodox Church.
Unpublished thesis submitted to the Evangelical Theological Seminary,
Osijek.
Adevărată, ed. Iosif Ţon. Oradea: Societatea Misionară Română.

Cornilescu, Dumitru. 1988. Cum m-am întors la Dumnezeu. In Credinţa
Dorz, Traian. 1994. Hristos Mărturia Mea, vol. 1. Sibiu: Editura Oastea
Domnului.
Dorz, Traian. 1995. Hristos Mărturia Mea, vol. 2, 3. Sibiu: Editura Oastea
Domnului.
Dorz, Traian. Semănaţi cuvântul sfânt (Sibiu: Editura Oastea Domnului, year of
publication not known).
Keppeler, Tom. 1994a. “A Summary of Trifa’s What is the Army of the Lord?” In
East-West Church & Ministry Report 2, p. 8.
Keppeler, Tom. 1994b. “Two Factions in Romania’s Army of the Lord,” In East-
West Church & Ministry Report 2, pp. 8–9.
Mă̆ianu, A. 1995. Viata si lucrarea lui Dumitru Cornilescu. Bucuresti: Editura
Stephanus.
Negruţ, Paul. 1996. Revelaţie, Scriptură, Comuniune: O Interogaţie Asupra
Autoritaţii în Cunoaşterea Teologică. Oradea: Editura Cartea Creştină.
Oastea Domnului. 2015. “Traian Dorz”, http://www.oasteadomnului.ro/tra-

ian-dorz/. Accessed September 10, 2015.
Pavel, Nicolae. 1994. Teologia lui Iosif Trifa. Unpublished diploma work,
Institutul Biblic “Emanuel”: Oradea.
Pravila Oastei Domnului. 1937. Sibiu.
Swedish European Mission. The Lord’s Army: Introducing a Unique Ministry in
Romania. Norfolk: Christ is King Community Church. No data about publi-
cation available.
Trifa, Iosif. 1921. Revista Teologică, nr. 8.
Trifa, Iosif. 1922–1929. Lumina Satelor, Sibiu.
Trifa, Iosif. 1929. Limina Satelor. Sibiu.
Trifa, Iosif. 1930. Corabia lui Noe. Sibiu.
Trifa, Iosif. 1934a. Ce este Oastea Domnului?. Sibiu.
Trifa, Iosif. 1934b. Isus Biruitorul. Sibiu.
Ţon, Iosif. 1994. Credinţa Adevărată. Oradea: Societatea Misionară Română.

Trifa, Iosif. 1936. Ce este Oastea Domnului. Sibiu.
Ware, Timothy. 1993. The Orthodox Church, 3rd ed. Harmondsworth: Penguin.
CHAPTER 13
The Oastea Domnului (Lord’s Army)

Movement in the Serbian Banat
Mircea Măran
This chapter tries to present the history of the Romanian Orthodox

Church during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, with special
attention being paid to the Church’s activities after the First World War
and the border changes between the Kingdom of SCS (from 1929 the
Kingdom of Yugoslavia) and the Kingdom of Romania in the region of
the Banat. The second part deals with the establishment and spread of
the movement Oastea Domnului in Romania and among Romanians in
the Yugoslav (Serbian) part of Banat. The third part is deals with the
local activities of the Oastea Domnului movement, its interwar press,
societies and pilgrimages in the Banat. The last part presents the devel-
opment of the movement in the communist era.
Background
After the foundation of the Romanian Orthodox metropolitanate of
Transylvania in 1864 and dioceses with their centres in Caransebeş and
Arad in 1865, a new page in the history of the Romanian Orthodox
Church had begun. The parishes, priests, and believers of the Banat
M. Măran (*) 
Preschool Teacher Training College—Vršac, Vršac, Serbia

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_13
262 M. MĂRAN
played an important role in this new epoch. However, despite attain-

ing Church autonomy, some believers left Orthodox Christianity and
joined various neo-Protestant movements or the Greek Catholic Church
during the nineteenth and the first decades of the twentieth centuries.
Nevertheless, the majority of Romanians remain to this day a part of the
Orthodox Church, which represented (and still represents) an important
factor in the preservation of national identity, especially for those outside
the homeland.
The Church played the aforementioned role for the Romanian
Orthodox people in the western parts of the ‘historical’ Banat during
Austro-Hungarian rule and after the division of the Banat between the
Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes (SCS) and Romania. With this
division, which took place after the dissolution of the Austro-Hungarian
Monarchy in 1918, the Romanian population from more than 40 set-
tlements in west Banat became a part of the newly founded Kingdom of
SCS.
Apart from many other important issues which needed to be resolved
(border demarcation, the use of minority languages in cultural affairs,
education, and periodicals, participation in land reform, etc.), the two
neighbouring countries also had to decide the Romanian Orthodox
Church’s position in the ‘Yugoslav’ Banat and the Serbian Orthodox
Church’s position in the ‘Romanian’ Banat. This issue was discussed by
delegates of the two countries on numerous occasions alongside debates
over signing a new school convention. In 1934, the convention on
the Romanian Orthodox Church’s position in the Yugoslav Banat and
the Serbian Orthodox Church’s position in the Romanian Banat was
adopted. However, the Kingdom of Yugoslavia never ratified the docu-
ment and as such it was never implemented.1
The role of Romanian Orthodox priests in the secular world was
not to be underestimated, especially if we keep in mind the small num-
bers of local intellectuals who moved to Romania after the division.
The clergy were the only Romanian intellectuals who remained at their
posts and who were also involved in the political and economic life of
the Romanian national minority in the Kingdom of Yugoslavia. Hence,
for example, priests were at the forefront of the Romanian party in the
Kingdom of SCS (1923–1929): they were also the heads of Astra (the
Association for Culture of the Romanian People in the Yugoslav Banat)
from its establishment in 1936 and the leaders of the majority of local
cultural societies. They edited publications in the Romanian language,
13 THE OASTEA DOMNULUI … 263
among which were Nădejdea (Hope), Foaia poporului român (The

Romanian People’s Paper), and Biruinţa (Victory). Because of this, the
clergy’s influence on Romanian citizens was immensely strong.
Although the seats of the two dioceses (Caransebeş and Arad) to
which the Romanian Orthodox believers in Yugoslavia belonged were
on the other side of the border after the division of the Banat, a strong
connection remained. The bishop’s circular letters regularly arrived at
Church municipalities, young priests went to theological seminaries
in Romania, and canonical visitations from Romanian parish prelates
occurred on two occasions (Bishop Iosif Traian Badescu of Caransebeş
in 1928 and Bishop Vasile Lăzărescu in 1936). Books, magazines, and
the other publications which the Romanian Orthodox Church issued
reached the Yugoslav Banat (e.g. Foaia diecezană from Caransebeş,
Calendarul Românului, etc.).
The parishes were included in three protopresbyterates: Pančevo (with
its seat in Banatsko Novo Selo), Vršac, and Sarča (today Sutjeska near
Zrenjanin). All three protopresbyterates elected representatives to the
diocesan synod and to the metropolitan synod of Sibiu. Only the proto-
presbyterate in Pančevo maintained the same number of parishes that it
had had before the war. After the division of the Banat, the protopresby-
terate in Vršac was reorganised by designating the parishes in Romania
to other protopresbyterates in Romanian territory and by assigning the
Bela Crkva protopresbyterate, which remained in the Yugoslav king-
dom, to the Vršac protopresbyterate. The same situation occurred in the
Sarča protopresbyterate, to which the Romanian Orthodox parishes in
Yugoslav territory were assigned. Before the division of the Banat, these
parishes belonged to the protopresbyterate of Banat Comloş (Veliki and
Mali Torak, Ečka, Sarča, Jankov Most, and Rusko Selo).
The end of the Second World War and the communist ascent to
power in Yugoslavia and Romania greatly influenced the religious lives of
Romanians in the Yugoslav Banat. In the beginning, the Yugoslav com-
munist regime was not fond of the Romanian Orthodox clergy. This was
not only because of their religious politics, which led them to distance
religious communities from public life, but also because it was believed
that the clergy had cooperated with the occupation government dur-
ing the war and that they supported the Antonescu regime in Romania.
Consequently, certain priests (mainly the former heads of Astra) were
persecuted and forced to leave the country and go to Romania, where
they were fell into the clutches of the Romanian communist government.2
264 M. MĂRAN
The number of priests declined considerably. Many priests retired

or died: in bigger towns with two or even three parishes, the parishes
were merged into one, while in smaller villages there were parishes left
without a priest, which meant that divine services were held by priests
from neighbouring localities. The material position of the clergy was
also poor, especially considering the fact that the land reform included
Church property and that the income from selling candles, graves, and
burial services was often not enough to provide priests with salaries.3
Contact with the diocesan base became increasingly difficult to main-
tain, a fact which can be deduced from letters which arrived in Church
municipalities. The situation was particularly serious in 1948, when a
conflict broke out between Yugoslavia and the Cominform countries,
which included Romania. In letter no. 4173 from 30 November 1948,
the diocese of Caransebeş asked that, in the future, all letters and doc-
uments from the Romanian Orthodox Church in Yugoslavia first be
sent to Petar Toma, the diocesan secretary, and not to the Caransebeş
diocese.4 Obviously, censorship was being implemented. Finally, the
Caransebeş diocese was abolished in 1949, and Romanian Orthodox par-
ishes from the Yugoslav Banat were assigned to the archdiocese and met-
ropolitanate in Timişoara. In these years, the only real authorities in the
administrative sense were the three aforementioned protopresbyterates.5
During the 1950s and 1960s, the clergy’s position slowly ameliorated
as conditions in the Yugoslav countries improved. Simultaneously, gov-
ernment pressure on the Church began to lessen. However, the num-
ber of believers also declined, mainly because of the significant increase
of Romanian members of the Yugoslav Communist Party, who distanced
themselves from the Church, but also because of the general decrease of
the number of Romanians in the country.6
The clergy was organised into the Association of the Romanian
Orthodox Clergy from Vojvodina, which started to publish the paper
Credinţa (Faith) in 1969. The members of this organisation initiated
the founding of the Romanian Orthodox vicariate in the Yugoslav Banat.
The Romanian clergy informed the government of this decision at the
second assembly of the association, which was held on 6 October 1970
in Belgrade.7
Given that the Romanian parishes in the Yugoslav Banat did not have
a unified organisation, the need arose for the establishment of a vicari-
ate. Its rules were confirmed in a Romanian Orthodox Church assem-
bly held in Vršac on 28 January 1971 in the presence of 23 priests
(out a total of 26). The Vicariate, which was recognised by the Yugoslav
government, was also recognised ‘canonically and spiritually’ by the patri-
arch in Bucharest, but not administratively. On the basis of the Romanian
laws which were being implemented at the time, the administrative power
of the Patriarchate was limited to the Romanian territory. Romanian
Orthodox parishes beyond Romanian borders were allowed to organise
vicariates or dioceses (for Orthodox Romanians in the USA, Hungary,
and Yugoslavia). They were founded according to the laws of the country
in question and were administratively independent from the patriarchate
in Bucharest. The first vicar of the Romanian Orthodox Vicariate in the
Yugoslav Banat, based in Vršac, was the head priest Aurel Uroş.8
After the changes which followed the fall of Nicolae Ceauşescu
(1989) in Romania and marked the last decades of the twentieth and
the first decade of the twenty-first centuries in Yugoslavia (i.e. Serbia),
favourable conditions were created for the Romanian Orthodox Church
in the Banat to become once more one of the most significant institu-
tions for the Romanian national minority. The Romanian Orthodox par-
ishes in the Serbian Banat were again part of the Caransebeş diocese after
its reconstitution (1994). This enabled the closer involvement of priests
and believers from the Serbian Banat in the happenings of the Romanian
Orthodox Church. Meanwhile, the Romanian Orthodox Vicariate in
the Serbian Banat was not abolished. The closer relationship with the
Church authorities in the Romanian Orthodox patriarchate could also
be felt through the frequent visits of Bishop Dr. Laurenţiu Streza of
Caransebeş to parishes in the Serbian Banat.
Today, the Romanian parishes in the territory of the Republic of
Serbia are part of the bishopric of Dacia Felix, whose administrative
bishop is Dr. Daniil Stoenescu. Despite the increase in the number of
protopresbyterates due to the new administrative division of the dioceses,
the number of believers is in decline because of the decrease in the num-
ber of people who consider themselves to be members of the Romanian
national minority.
The Establishment and Spread of Oastea Domnului

The Oastea Domnului (Lord’s Army) movement was formed in
Transylvania a year after it became part of Romania. The founder was
the Orthodox priest Iosif Trifa, who started publishing the religious
journal Lumina satelor (the Light of the villages) in 1922. Because of his
266 M. MĂRAN
energetic nature and sincere desire for the revival of authentic Orthodox
values, he received support from Metropolitan Nicolae Bălan of Ardeal.
In the following year, the movement gained its first followers and started
to spread quickly. The main cause for the emergence and spread of the
movement was the wish to strengthen Orthodox elite influence in the
multi-ethnic and multiconfessional society of Transylvania and to attempt
to suppress the neo-Protestant movements which were seriously threat-
ening to convert a large number of Romanian Orthodox believers.
Among the main goals of Oastea Domnului was the suppression of alco-
holism, smoking, and other ‘vices’ among Orthodox believers.
The swift spread of the movement and the large number of believers
who joined it increased Iosif Trifa’s popularity and reputation. The
Metropolitan of Ardeal tried to take control of the movement in order
to preserve his authority, which quickly led to a conflict between him and
Trifa. The conflict became public in 1933–1934, and ended with Trifa’s
defeat. He was stripped of his priesthood for betraying Orthodox inter-
ests by allegedly imposing strict rules on faith and everyday life under the
influence of neo-Protestant teachings. In the following years, the Holy
Synod of the Romanian Orthodox Church imposed rules (‘statutes’) on
Oastea Domnului. By doing so, they turned the movement into a reli-
gious organisation that was a part of the Ardeal metropolitanate. Trifa
did not have the strength to oppose these measures: he soon fell ill from
tuberculosis and died in 1938. Oastea Domnului quickly spread through
the Banat.
The Spread of the Movement Among Romanians

in the Yugoslav Banat
At the beginning of the 1930s, Oastea Domnului started to spread

among Romanians in the Yugoslav Banat. As an integral part of the
Romanian Orthodox Church, the Romanian parishes in the Yugoslav
Banat maintained a strong connection with the dioceses in Caransebeş
and Arad, from which they received circular letters, journals, and other
publications. It was therefore natural that Church influence was felt
among priests and believers on the other side of the border. As early as
the 1920s, Trifa’s journal Lumina satelor was regularly sent to some par-
ish libraries. We learn about this through the questionnaires which priests
regularly completed at the request of Coriolan Buracu, the director of
the I. G. Bibicescu Central Library. This library supplied Romanian
parishes in the Yugoslav Banat with books and other publications from
Romania in the form of donations. The donor in return asked that each
of the libraries regularly sent work reports, as well as reports on the gen-
eral cultural circumstances in the parish. On the basis of these question-
naires, we learn that in 1927 the parish library in Ritiševo near Vršac was
subscribed to 11 publications, mostly from Romania, among which was
Lumina satelor.9 In 1928, this publication was also found in parish librar-
ies in Mramorak, Ečka, Sveti Mihailo (today Lokve), and Sarča (today
Sutjeska).10 It is certain that reading this literature influenced the emer-
gence of Oastea Domnului in these places, although it did not guarantee
the flowering of the movement (the library in Sarča, e.g., had four exam-
ples of this journal, but the movement never developed there).
The first intensive activity of the movement occurred at the begin-
ning of 1931, when Oastea Domnului found itself at the centre of the
Romanian Orthodox Church’s attention. In the beginning, there had
been a lot of doubt, distrust, and prejudice among some believers and
priests regarding the character of this movement. Because of this, the
diocesan authorities sent circular letters in which they highlighted the
essence of the movement, while insisting that wherever Oastea Domnului
occurred it needed to be under the direct leadership and control of the
local parish priest; otherwise, it could take a turn in the wrong direction.
In a circular letter from 1 March 1931 to all parishes in the Caransebeş
diocese, Bishop Iosif Traian Badescu emphasised the importance of this
movement, which had been formed ‘from the wish to suppress the sects,
to strengthen the religiousness and morality of the people, [and] to pro-
mote the suppression of alcohol’.11 The movement was useful for the
Orthodox Church so long as it did not deviate from the straight and nar-
row, in which case it could become dangerous. Here, the hierarch con-
sidered the possibility of members becoming too close to neo-Protestant
teachings, which could only be prevented by having priests in charge of
local Oastea Domnului organisations. Therefore, if the movement existed
in their town or village, priests were required to be at its head without
exception.12
The role of priests in local Oastea Domnului organisations was also
discussed by the Holy Synod of the Romanian Orthodox Church in
Bucharest, which confirmed their leading role in the movement with the
decisions taken from 17 October to 12 December 1931. In a new cir-
cular letter issued on 6 February 1933, Bishop Badescu and the dioc-
esan council in Caransebeş again emphasised to priests that they had
268 M. MĂRAN
‘an obligation to be at the head of these organisations, because they

would otherwise face severe consequences and responsibility in the eyes
of the Lord’.13 In the letter, it was stated that Oastea Domnului emerged
‘as a reaction against sects among our people, which represents the wish
to intensify and to bring to the people’s consciousness the religious
teachings of the Orthodox Church’.14 Problems and distrust were still
present, mainly because the songs sung at the meetings were similar to
‘sectarian’ hymns which allegedly did not belong to Church traditions.
Another cause for confusion was the question of salvation: Did believers
who were not a part of the movement have the same chance of salvation
as members of Oastea Domnului? The answer from the leaders of the
Orthodox Church was as follows: ‘All believers, all of those who became
a part of Christ’s Church through the act of christening, are simultane-
ously fighters, Lord’s soldiers, here on Earth, in the Lord’s Kingdom,
[and] therefore are all equal. There exists no difference between the
ones who are members of the “Lord’s Army”, and therefore call them-
selves “soldiers”, and the ones who are not’.15 It was the priest’s duty
to become head of the local organisations which had already been
formed or those which people were inclined to form. In this way the
priests could direct members of Oastea Domnului towards the goals of
the Church: they were ‘in a word to provide everything needed for their
affirmation and activation in the Church and for the Church’.16 Through
advice, praise, and comments, priests were supposed to channel meetings
and their activities. Oastea Domnului meetings were held exclusively in
Church buildings.
Grigorie Comşa, the bishop of Arad (1925–1935), was of the same
opinion and believed that, without the leading role of the clergy, there
was a danger of the movement ‘straying from the Orthodox spirit’.17
The Romanian Orthodox parishes in the central part of the Yugoslav
Banat, as has already been mentioned, belonged to the Arad diocese.
Similar content could also be found in publications in Romanian.18
Aurel Uroş, a young student at the theological school in Caransebeş
from Dolovo near Pančevo, also stressed the clergy’s role in the Oastea
Domnului19 movement. The members of this movement did not con-
sider it to be ‘a movement outside the Church framework, but as work
in the Church, through the means of its spiritual authority, through
the clergy’. Uroş believed that Oastea Domnului in the Yugoslav
Banat faced many obstacles, but that it was skilfully overcoming them.
Oastea Domnului was ‘the start of an obvious revival of spiritual life’,

but, as he also highlighted, only through the leading role of the clergy.20
In Foaia diecezană, a paper which Uroş published in Caransebeş,21
he explored a different aspect of this movement in the Yugoslav Banat:
its relationship with the Serbian God Worshippers. The author believed
that the spread of neo-Protestant teachings among the Romanians in
the Banat was caused by the influence of the Serbs, who were allegedly
‘prone to religious adventures’, by which he meant the ready accept-
ance of new religious teachings. Since the Romanians formed a national
minority in the mixed Serbian-Romanian or Serbian-Romanian-German
villages in the Banat, divine services were usually conducted in other
languages. For the Romanians, this was ‘the first step towards disag-
gregation, which, in the beginning, manifested itself through national
indifference and resulted in complete assimilation’.22 Therefore, the rela-
tionship between Romanian believers and their Serbian co-religionists
was welcome because the Serbs ‘have the same religion as we do, as is
said among the people’. However, two risks for Romanian believers
could be noticed: first that they would fall under the influence of neo-
Protestant teachings together with the God Worshippers and second that
assimilation would occur. Uroş considered it to be wise, where possible,
to avoid contact with God Worshippers, since they ‘have quasi magical
visions’.23 Such cases allegedly existed in the Banat villages of Crepaja,
Dolovo, and Bavanište. For all these reasons, there was a possibil-
ity that Oastea Domnului would stray from Orthodox teachings, espe-
cially through the religious songs ‘which the soldiers improvise’, which
‘diverge to a certain extent from the traditional spirit of the Orthodox
Church’. As such, the priest’s role must be leading and decisive.
If Oastea Domnului was firmly and correctly led by the local priest, it
would become a good ‘antivenom’ for the believers of various religious
teachings, i.e. the ‘sects’, as they were referred to by Orthodox priests.
Therefore, many ‘lost souls’ returned to the Orthodox Church by
becoming members of Oastea Domnului, as was the case in Sveti Mihailo
and Dolovo.24
In any case, the movement was becoming more organised in these
years. In 1930, Oastea Domnului started its activity in Uzdin, which was
thus the movement’s first centre among the Romanians in the Yugoslav
Banat. In the same year, it seems, the movement was established in Straža,
Sv. Mihailo, and Dolovo, which were the most active in these years.
270 M. MĂRAN
Activities of the Local Movement

The clergy’s decisive role in the activities of the local Oastea Domnului
movements is made evident by the fact that those priests who conducted
a rich array of activities in the religious, cultural, and political fields were
the heads of these associations. The priest Ioan Miter was the founder
of the movement in his parish in Straža near Vršac. At the beginning of
the 1930s, he stood out by engaging in many important activities for
the Romanian national minority in Yugoslavia. He was the editor of the
weekly paper Nădejdea from Vršac and the founder and president of the
Association of Romanian Choirs and Fanfares. The latter was the first
significant Romanian cultural association in the period between the two
wars: its founding assembly was held in Alibunar on 30 August 1931.25
At the end of the same year, he founded the Romanian Orthodox Clare
in the Yugoslav Banat Association and became its first president.26 After
a conflict with the management of Nădejdea, he founded a new weekly
paper called Foaia poporului român (Paper of the Romanian People), and
was appointed the director of Astra in the same year. As such, this priest
played a significant role in the cultural, political, and confessional devel-
opment of the Romanians in the Banat during the 1930s; his role in the
Oastea Domnului movement was inevitable. A similar role was played by
the priest Lazar Cârdu (1901–1973) from Sveti Mihailo, a village near
Alibunar, where one of the first Oastea Domnului local associations was
founded. Cârdu was one of the main associates and comrades of Ioan
Miter in his aforementioned activities. Sveti Mihailo was the village with
the highest number of Nazarenes among the Romanians in the Yugoslav
Banat;27 hence, Cârdu’s role and responsibilities were more considera-
ble. Therefore, it is no surprise that one of the oldest Oastea Domnului
movements was founded in Sveti Mihailo, where a harsh battle for the
preservation of Orthodoxy was being fought.
The first significant meeting of the Oastea Domnului movement in the
Yugoslav Banat was held in Sveti Mihailo on 16 August 1931. The local
priests Lazar Cârdu and Corneliu Cure, ‘who were profoundly familiar
with the psychology of the villagers’,28 in cooperation with Ioan Miter
from Straža, put forward the idea of having a patron saint’s day for Sveti
Mihailo, which would strengthen the Orthodox spirit among the local
citizens in the context of Nazarene expansion in that village. ‘Soldiers’
from four villages attended this assembly: Sveti Mihailo, Uzdin, Straža,
and Dolovo. In a crowded Church, Miter addressed the believers,
followed by the priests Ioan Naia from Margita and Ioan Marina from
Sveti Jovan (present day name Barice). The meeting was completed in the
evening, and the songs of the ‘Lord’s soldiers’29 echoed in the Church.
Besides the aforementioned model of organisation of priests and
congregations within the Romanian Orthodox Church in the Yugoslav
Banat, an important role was played by the so-called religious circles.
Members of Oastea Domnului attended the meetings of these circles, and
Nădejdea30 published an article about one of those meetings. The subject
was a religious gathering organised by the clergy of ‘the Fourth Religious
Circle’ of the Romanians in the Yugoslav Banat, headed by Miter.
Religious circles were formed in 1923–1924 so that the position of the
Romanian Orthodox Church would strengthen in the absence of a uni-
fied Church organisation in the Yugoslav Banat (the seats of the dioceses
were located in another country). They were also founded in the hope
that Romanian culture would be strengthened and national conscious-
ness in this region would be entrenched. Events organised by the reli-
gious circles began with a divine liturgy, which was attended by all the
priests belonging to the circle; after the liturgy, there were lectures on
religious topics held by the priests. Following the lectures were discus-
sions dedicated to culture. In the final part, the members of local cho-
ral societies participated along with other cultural amateurs. Such events,
cultural and religious by nature, were held in all the parishes belonging
to a religious circle.31 The event held in Vojvodinci near Vršac also had
members of Oastea Domnului from Straža as guests. Following the liturgy
and the conference, where, among other things, the discussion was about
the ‘important issue of Lord’s Army, which preoccupied both priests and
the congregation’,32 the Lord’s Army choir from Straža performed a series
of religious songs in the Church, which attracted a large number of res-
idents of all ages. We note that the performance of religious songs was
accompanied by the recitation of religious poems by girls, who probably
belonged to the families of members of this association.
The Lord’s Army choir from Straža, under the direction of Ion Băiaş
(who was the head of the Church choir), performed several hymns from
the repertoire of this religious association at the clerical conference and
the consecration of the House of Culture in Orešac on 10 July 1932.33
The cultural and religious events that took place on this occasion
brought together a large number of believers and cultural workers from
several places around Vršac.
272 M. MĂRAN
The intense activity of the Straža movement that took place in these
years can also be confirmed by the visit of the choir to Kuštilj (near
Vršac), which was famous for its unusually intense and lively cultural and
national activities. 30 members of Oastea Domnului (men and women)
participated, led by Ioan Miter.34 In his speech to the congregation, he
explained the aim of the movement, ‘which is nothing other than respect
for ancestral faith and its achievements, among which the Church occu-
pies the most important place’. Another aim was ‘love for their nation’,
which was expressed on many other occasions and in different docu-
ments, newspaper articles, and speeches delivered at meetings. From the
same article, we learn that the movement had already been organised in
Kuštilj and was led by the priest Octavian Trailovici.
Of course, the Straža branch of Oastea Domnului was primarily
involved in local religious events. We have a detailed description of its
participation in the local Church’s celebration of its patron saint, the
Nativity of the Theotokos, in 1933, when ‘all its members’ were present,
as well as a large number of priests from nearby parishes.35 The choir
performed polyphonic religious songs (‘on two voices’); among the par-
ticipants were two girls with poems, who were, apparently, present at
most of the religious events.
The visit of Miter to Uzdin which took place on 25 June 1933
was one of the most significant events in the early history of Oastea
Domnului in the Yugoslav Banat. The importance of this event lies in
the fact that the priest who had done the most to organise the move-
ment and who had contributed the most to its popularisation, both in
the press and at religious gatherings all over the Banat, visited the old-
est and most important local organisation, which was established in one
of the most significant centres of Romanian spirituality and culture in
Yugoslavian territory. The Divine Liturgy in the Uzdin Church, where
Miter also participated, was accompanied by the local Oastea Domnului
choir. In the afternoon, ‘all the soldiers met in the House of Culture to
pray and read the Holy Scriptures’.36
The local organisation from Uzdin had about 40 members. Even
before the visit of Miter, the Uzdin ‘soldiers’ visited Ečka, near Veliki
Bečkerek, on 12 March 1933, which was, apparently, the first time that
‘religious propaganda’ carried out by Oastea Domnului expanded into
the Romanian parishes of the Arad diocese. The readers of Nădejdea
were informed about this event by the parish priest Valeriu Magdu from
Ečka,37 who wrote about the activity of Uzdin ‘soldiers’ with a great
deal of sympathy and enthusiasm. Magdu provided his readers with
a very interesting definition of this religious movement ‘because prob-

ably many do not know what Oastea Domnului is’: ‘It is a voluntary reli-
gious organisation of believers who belong to the Romanian Orthodox
faith, which is under the invisible protection of our Lord Jesus Christ
and the visible shield of our Orthodox Church’.38 As for its members,
the author of the article pointed out that they were ‘soldiers of the Lord
[who] solemnly swore that they would give up bad habits and that they
would cultivate virtues, and lead a pure, evangelical life based on the
teachings of our Lord Jesus Christ, which were left in the treasury of our
Orthodox Church’. The author continues to explain that it was a purely
religious and moral organisation and that its members were ‘Soldiers
of the Lord, [who] sacredly keep the commandments of God, go to
Church regularly, and keep away from sins, for example: they do not
drink, smoke, curse, damn anyone, slander, lie, cheat, steal, or be lazy’.
Finally, he gave his own judgment on their attitude towards the nation,
religion, and the state in which they lived: ‘They are good Romanians
because they love their nation; they are good Christians, because they
love their Church; they are good citizens, because they love their coun-
try’.39 The visits of the Uzdin ‘soldiers’ to Ečka roused great interest
among local members of the congregation, and so many people attended
the liturgy, as well as the conference and prayers in the afternoon.
After founding a mixed choir in 1933, the Uzdin branch of Oastea
Domnului also established a brass orchestra in 1936 modelled on simi-
lar orchestras that existed in the interwar period in most places with a
Romanian population in the Banat.40 The difference between this associ-
ation and other ‘fanfares’ was that the Uzdin brass orchestra played reli-
gious songs. The head of the choir and the orchestra was Iova Şoşdeanu,
a well-known local cultural enthusiast. As is the case with other similar
vocal groups, the Uzdin Oastea Domnului choir participated in many
religious events, especially local ones. A particularly important example
was its participation in the Divine Liturgy during the conference of ‘the
Third Religious Circle’ in Uzdin on 22 April 1934, where the choirs of
Romanian Orthodox Churches from Glogonj and Uzdin also partici-
pated.41 This indicates that in these years there were two religious choral
groups in Uzdin: the Church choir and the Oastea Domnului choir.
The brass orchestra from Uzdin was present at the ceremonies mark-
ing the Church’s celebration of its patron saint in Sveti Mihailo (Lokve),
where the congress of Oastea Domnului was also held, with the par-
ticipation of members from Sveti Mihailo, Uzdin, Dolovo, Straža,
Nikolinci, Deliblato, Mramorak, and other places.42 They did a great
274 M. MĂRAN
deal of work (‘lion’s work’)43 organising all the events for that occasion.
A particular impression was left by the presence of Serbian believers from
Alibunar, who were led by Dr. Tomin. During these events, Dr. Josip
Rogić, the minister of physical education of the Kingdom of Yugoslavia,
also came to Sveti Mihailo.44
The local Oastea Domnului association from Grebenac also held
certain activities during various religious and cultural events: their choir
participated in the Clerical Conference of Religious Circles in Bela Crkva
in 1936,45 as well as during the visit of Bishop Vasile Lăzărescu to Bela
Crkva (also in 1936).46
The canonical visitation of Bishop Vasile Lăzărescu of Caransebeş to
the Romanian parishes in the Yugoslav Banat in 1936 was an opportu-
nity for priests, the congregation, and members of Oastea Domnului to
meet the new head of the Church after the death of Bishop Iosif Traian
Badescu in 1933. The bishop visited all the parishes that belonged to his
diocese: the religious and cultural events which were prepared in his hon-
our included the participation of Oastea Domnului choirs in the places
where they existed. We have data on their presence during the bishop’s
visit to Sveti Mihailo,47 when, led by the Church cantor Mr Mohan, they
performed religious songs in Father Corneliu Cure’s house.
‘Soldiers’ from Mramorak, on the other hand, exhibited originality in
their activities by participating in school celebrations of the Christmas
holidays in 1938. Together with the school administration and the
Church municipality, they gave shoes and socks worth 520 dinars to the
poorest students as well as sweets and chocolates valued at 110 dinars to
all the students of the school.48At the same time, there was no lack of
monetary donations for the school itself: the Church municipality gave
the school 100 dinars and Oastea Domnului 50 dinars.
There were also cases of cooperation with local organisations from
Romania. In 1934, members of Oastea Domnului from Iamand Vraniin
Romania, located along the border, visited Kuštilj.49 The Kuštilj priest
Octavian Trailovici participated in the liturgy; afterwards, as usual, the
local Oastea Domnului choir performed religious songs.
New Comments in the Interwar Press

In the interwar years, the Romanian publications that were printed in the
Yugoslav Banat engaged in an intensive activity: they frequently noted
the considerable presence of Oastea Domnului. This was especially the
case in Nădejdea. This state of affairs was probably influenced by the

membership of the editorial board, as it was headed by Ioan Miter, who,
as we have shown, actively participated in the work of Oastea Domnului.
After a large number of articles in the period between 1931 and 1934,
the number of published articles relating to Oastea Domnului started to
gradually decline during 1935 and 1936; by the late 1930s, such pieces
had become a rarity. Throughout this period, in addition to presenting
the organisation’s activities in the parishes of the Yugoslav Banat, other
articles were also published which aimed to popularise the movement
among readers. Such texts were usually taken from different publica-
tions from Romania, either word-by-word or adapted to the needs of
Romanian readers in the Yugoslav Banat.
In this regard, it is worth mentioning the article ‘The ceremony of
Oastea Domnului in Sibiu’,50 which provided an exhaustive report on
this event and quoted the words of Metropolitan Nicolae Bălan and
other representatives of the higher clergy. However, despite the words
of praise for Iosif Trifa, the founder of the movement, the article omit-
ted his speech ‘for lack of space’, which can be understood as one of the
first hints of a conflict between him and the metropolitan of Transylvania;
in the conflict, the Romanian clergy in the Yugoslav Banat stood on the
side of Bălan. Although Trifa was still celebrated as a true apostle of the
Romanian Church in an article titled ‘Father Iosif’,51 which was pub-
lished shortly after the article on the festivities in Sibiu, we note that, as
time passed by and the conflict between Trifa and Bălan progressed, his
name was more and more rarely encountered on the pages of Nădejdea.
A few issues later, new and fulsome praise for Metropolitan Nicolae Bălan
was published in an article entitled ‘The Most Reverend Metropolitan
Nicolae and Oastea Domnului’.52 The most numerous articles on Oastea
Domnului we have encountered are short pieces in the magazines
Lumina Satelor and Oastea Domnului, which include religious poems
authored by ‘soldiers’ from Romania. The only author of such texts from
the Yugoslav Banat was Aurel Grivei, ‘a soldier of the Lord from Straža’.53
Nădejdea did not write a single word about the conflict between
Metropolitan Bălan and Trifa. The clergy was informed of the decision
of the Holy Synod of the Romanian Orthodox Church (no. 2231 b. ex
1937) on 4 April 1937 to excommunicate Trifain a letter sent to all par-
ishes.54 One such letter, dated 14 April 1937, was found in the archives of
the parish in Vladimirovac. In it, the Pančevo priest Ioan Murgu notifies
the local parish priest of the decision of the Synod.
276 M. MĂRAN
The Society of St. George

In the period between the two world wars, in addition to Oastea
Domnului, the Romanian Orthodox Church tried to strengthen its posi-
tion by consolidating its ranks and by establishing other associations of a
religious character, such as Societatea Sfântul Gheorghe (the Society of St
George) and Cuvioasa Paraschiva (Holy Mother Paraskeva). In a circular
letter dated 31 December 1935, Bishop Vasile and the Caransebeş dioc-
esan council pointed out the importance of creating organisations where
young parishioners could enrol and whose aim would be to strengthen
Orthodoxy and culture among the Romanian Orthodox youth: ‘if we
briefly pay attention to this society, do we not notice that in its activ-
ity there are many beautiful programmes with cultural content?’55 It was
believed that ‘if only one part of it is implemented, and even only par-
tially, the appearance of our villages will change for the better, and
bad habits will be reduced and will eventually disappear’. There were
a great number of various religious and cultural associations across the
Caransebeş diocese, since they were not difficult to set up and organ-
ise. Nevertheless, their establishment encountered various obstacles, such
as those caused by the passivity of local parish priests and poor commu-
nication with other intellectuals, primarily with teachers, the bearers of
cultural activities in the countryside. The establishment of the Society of
St George encountered other obstacles in the Romanian Orthodox par-
ishes in the Yugoslav Banat, as we learn from a letter of the Vladimirovac
priest Valeriu Filaret Perin to the Pančevo Protopresbyter Ioan Murgu.
The letter states that the establishment of this association was impossible
for at least three reasons:
1. The existing law on associations in our country does not permit the
establishment of associations without the consent of the Chief of the dis-
trict (srez) and the presence of the Commissioner who has the task to
supervise the work of associations, whether they are political, cultural, or
religious by nature; 2. The registration of the rules of associations faces
obstacles at the Ministry of Internal Affairs, which was confirmed when the
rules of various Romanian cultural societies were supposed to be accepted;
3. Recruiting of active members among the youth would be done with
great difficulty, because of early marriages that are present among the
youth below the age of 16.56
Indeed, the establishment of the Society of St George in the Romanian

parishes of the Yugoslav Banat failed, despite the insistence of the leading
clergy in the Caransebeş diocese. The reason is very clear: in every

place where there was a Romanian Orthodox parish and a school with
Romanian as the teaching language, there had already been rich cultural
activity conducted by local amateur societies, and it was often the case
that members of the clergy were at the forefront of such associations.
Villages did not have enough human and material resources to establish
new cultural associations within Churches where one already existed.
Clergy from the Caransebeş diocese monitored the members of the
congregations in the Yugoslav Banat and strove to consolidate the influ-
ence of the Orthodox Church through the activities of Oastea Domnului
and the Society of St George. This monitoring did not cease even during
the Second World War, when the Banat was under Nazi occupation and
the head of the diocese was Bishop Veniamin Nistor.57 Protopresbyters
and priests had the same tasks as in the previous period58:
7. Bring prayer books, calendars, and other books with spiritual content, as
well as the magazines Lumina satelor and Oastea Domnului to the parish-
ioners’ homes, to satisfy their spiritual thirst, which can increasingly be
felt among the congregation[…]; 8. In places where Oastea Domnului is
organised, occupy the leading positions in the organisation and use it as an
important aid in pastoral activities in the parish; 9. Organise adult youth
in the Society of St George in order to regulate their life and leisure in
a useful manner by holding religious lectures with sermons on Sundays,
after the evening liturgy. Priests should come closer to the mentality of
young people by spending time with them and being spiritual advisers
and parents. The presence of the clergy among young people makes them
be respectful and loving toward their spiritual father, who brings them
encouragement and knowledge.
Pilgrimages to Malo Središte and Seleuš

A special chapter in the religious history of the Romanians in Yugoslav
Banat between the two wars is taken up by pilgrimages, which began to
be held annually in two places: Malo Središte and Seleuš. In a situation
where the Orthodox clergy were a decisive factor in the fight for the pres-
ervation of the Romanian national identity, it was clear that they would
attempt to fulfil this role in the national movement through diverse reli-
gious activities. Among them was Oastea Domnului, as we have shown
in the text above. However, a special place belongs to pilgrimages, which
form an integral part of the Christian understanding of the relation-
ship between the congregation and the sacred. The idea of organising
278 M. MĂRAN
pilgrimages to Malo Središte, where there had been a monastery until

the second half of the eighteenth century, appeared among Romanians
as early as 1927–1928 in the meetings of protopresbyters and priests.59
Once the idea about having a pilgrimage to this place emerged, it was
decided in 1936 to organise another pilgrimage, this time to Seleuš near
Alibunar, so that the members of congregations in places quite remote
from Malo Središte could participate. Pilgrims (primarily from Uzdin)
who came to Malo Središte had to travel 50–60 km and be away from
home for several days, which was not only strenuous but also prevented
members of the congregation from doing field work.60 Therefore, after
the blessing and decision of Bishop Vasile Lăzărescu (no. B. 5138 ex
1936), permission was given to organise the first pilgrimage to a ‘heal-
ing spring’ in Seleuš61 on 29 August 1936, the day when the Romanian
Orthodox Church marks the beheading of St John the Baptist.62
Pilgrimages were also a new opportunity for Oastea Domnului
to spread the faith. On a pilgrimage to Malo Središte in 1935, Oastea
Domnului members from Uzdin bore their flag and choirs of ‘soldiers’
from Uzdin, Nikolinci, and Sveti Mihailo performed religious songs.63
The Romanian-language press from Vršac (Nădejdea, Foaia poporului
român) and Caransebeş (Foaia diecezană) regularly informed their read-
ers about the participation of ‘soldiers’ in pilgrimages to Malo Središte in
the coming years. Members of Oastea Domnului from certain places in
the southern Banat (Mramorak, Dolovo) also took part in pilgrimages to
the ‘healing spring’ in Seleuš.64
In the Communist Era

The period after the Second World War is characterised by significant
changes in terms of the government’s attitude towards the Church and
Oastea Domnului. The Romanian communist authorities banned the lat-
ter, which was confirmed by Patriarch Iustinian in the journal Biserica
Ortodoxă Română (The Romanian Orthodox Church) in November-
December 1949. Article 1 of that decision stated that ‘…the activity of
all associations, societies, or associations of an ecclesiastical character,
such as the Association of Women […], societies such as St George, St
Ecaterina, and Anastasia Şaguna, youth associations, the missionary
association Patriarch Miron, Oastea Domnului, choir committees, com-
mittees for helping the poor, for taking care of the sickly, ecclesiastical
cultural societies, for nursing homes, for building Churches, for courier
services … etc., must cease in parishes’. Their activities would now

come under the jurisdiction of the parish committee.65 According to a
letter of the Timişoara-Caransebeş archdiocese on 10 September 1955,
there were apparently incidents in some parishes of the Vršac protopres-
byterate ‘in which a role was played by the former association Oastea
Domnului’.66 The Pančevo Protoresbyter Victor Popovici notified the
clergy in his territory.
Oastea Domnului was therefore banned in Romania, but, because
of political circumstances, this prohibition could not be adequately and
consistently implemented in the Romanian parishes in the Yugoslav
Banat: this was because the Yugoslav communist authorities tolerated the
movement’s existence. The very next year, in 1956, we have information
that this association was established in Vojvodinci near Vršac.67 Thus, it
continued to exist in some parishes beyond the reach of the Romanian
communist regime.68
Of course, the position of the Church also deteriorated in Yugoslavia,
which meant that local Oastea Domnului branches could not undertake
activities atthepre-warlevel: some, apparently, even stopped operat-
ing entirely. During the 1970s and 1980s, a number of local Oastea
Domnului associations were established (or renewed their work)
within the Romanian Orthodox vicariate in the Yugoslav Banat. At the
end of the 1980s, the movement was active in the following areas69:
Alibunar (founded in 1971),70 Sočica (1980), Malo Središte (1980),
Lokve (1972), Barice (1979), Straža (1973), Kuštilj (1985), Mali Žam
(1972), Nikolinci (1972), Uzdin (1972), Ečka (1975), Veliki Torak
(1984), Markovac, Seleuš (1975), Vršac (1980), Vojvodinci (1956),
and Grebenac (1972). In 1998, a local branch of Oastea Domnului was
founded in Jablanka.
The increased standards of living and financial help provided by immi-
grants from the West made it possible for associations in some places to
construct a prayer house. For example, in Mali Žam near Vršac, a struc-
ture was built with rooms intended for the parish committee and Oastea
Domnului in 1965, thanks to a donation from the engineer Corneliu
Bota.71 In 1978, a house for Oastea Domnului was erected in the court-
yard of the Church in Vojvodinci,72 while in Nikolinci, the room where
the library had been located (in the former rectory) was converted into
a space for Oastea Domnului. 60 new seats were bought for it in 1985.73
Associations in Ečka, Grebenac, Lokve, Straža, Uzdin, and Kuštilj also
had prayer houses.
280 M. MĂRAN
The participation of ‘soldiers’ in pilgrimages to Malo Središte also

continued, which were organised every year on the Feast of the Glorious
Cross (14 September). In addition to the liturgy, sermons, the reading
of religious literature, and praying, one of the most important moments
on pilgrimages was when religious songs were performed by Oastea
Domnului members.74
It is worth mentioning that an association similar to the Orthodox
Oastea Domnului also existed within the Uniate Church. It was called
Reuniunea mariană or Reuniunea Sfânta Maria, and it existed for a
short time in the Uniate parish in Markovac near Vršac under the leader-
ship of the priest Vasile Miclău.
Conclusion
Although significantly less prevalent in the social life of the Romanians
in the Banat, Oastea Domnului associations made a contribution to the
preservation of Orthodoxy in the last decades of the twentieth century
in conditions where the number of believers dropped considerably and
interest in religious matters increasingly diminished. Only during the
1990s, at the height of ‘the nationaland religious renaissance’ of the
Romanians in the Banat (after the fall of Nicolae Ceauşescu’s regime in
Romania and the liberalisation of the religious situation in Serbia), would
Oastea Domnului get the opportunity for a decisive return to the social
scene. Links with the mother Church in Romania were strengthened,
where Oastea Domnului again became legal after the fall of communism.
In this respect, we should mention the visit of Metropolitan Nicolae
Corneanu to Uzdin on 6 October 1990, when he met with members of
the local Oastea Domnului association.75
The most serious problem, however, was the fact that the ‘soldiers’
mostly belonged to the older generations. Their numbers gradually
decreased, since no new ‘soldiers’ from the younger generation joined,
being disinterested in this form of religious expression.
Because of this, the number of Oastea Domnului associations has
gradually decreased. In those associations that did continue with their
religious activity, the number of members has significantly declined. One
of the last priests who made a serious effort to work with the members of
his congregation who were also in Oastea Domnului was Drăgan Chilom
from Grebenac; however, with his sudden death in 2014, this association
has an uncertain future. From discussions with the priests and members
of congregations, we learn that, in some places, ‘soldiers of the Lord’

still gather after the liturgy or on Sunday afternoons to read religious
texts and sing religious songs. Based on data from a calendar for 2015
published by the Dacia Felix bishopric,76 Oastea Domnului still exists in
Uzdin, Lokve, Nikolinci, Straža, Kuštilj, Vojvodinci, Jablanka, Mali Žam,
and Grebenac. However, it is clear that Oastea Domnului among the
Romanians in the Banat is slowly receding into the past of this ethnic
and religious community.
Notes
1. Popi (1976, pp. 124–125).
2. Măran (2011, pp. 303–311).
3. The archive of the Romanian Orthodox Church in Vladimirovac
(AROCV), no. 33/1947.
4. AROCV, no. 102/1948.
5. The only change that compares with the period between the two world
wars was the change of the protopresbyterate’s base from Sarča to Mali
Torak.
6. The number of Romanians declined from 67,675 in 1921 to 52,978 in
1971 and to 30,419 in 2002. See more in Đurić-Milovanović, Maran,
Sikimić, (2011, pp. 11).
7. Miclea (1971, p. 4).
8. Prot. A.U. (1971, pp. 2–3).
9. Chipurici (1995, p. 82).
10. Ibid., p. 127.
(AROCV), A book of circular letters: Protocolul circularelor, municipality
Vladimirovac (Petrovasela), 1925, no. 81 Pres. Ex. (1931), 65–66.
12. Ibid.,
13. ARPCV, Protocolul circularelor, municipality Vladimirovac (Petrovasela),
1933, no. 435 Sc. ex. 1933, 87–88.
14. Ibid.,
15. Ibid.,
16. Ibid.,
17. Pavel (2007, p. 261).
18. On the position of the Romanian Orthodox Church in the Yugoslav
Banat between the two wars, the most substantial account is to be found
in the weekly paper Nădejdea from Vršac and in Foaia diecezană, the offi-
cial Caransebeş diocesan paper.
19. Doloveanu (1931, p. 1).
282 M. MĂRAN
20. Ibid.,
21. Doloveanu (1931, 6).
22. Ibid.,
23. Ibid.,
24. Ibid., 2–3.
25. Maran (2004, p. 56).
26. Ibid.,
27. Đurić-Milovanović, Maran, Sikimić, (2010, pp. 62–63).
28. Dolovanu (1931, p. 2).
29. Ibid.,
30. Fiştea (1931, pp. 1).
31. Maran (2004, pp. 107–112).
32. Fiştea (1931, pp. 1).
33. Nădejdea (1932, p. 2).
34. Ibid.,
35. Nădejdea (1933, p. 3).
36. Nădejdea (1933, p. 4).
37. Magdu (1933, p. 2).
38. Ibid.,
39. Ibid.,
40. Şoşdeanu (2010, p. 64).
41. Nădejdea (1934, p. 2).
42. Nădejdea (1936, p. 4).
43. Ibid.,
44. Ibid.,
45. Foaia poporului român (1936, p. 5).
46. Foaia poporului român (1936, p. 2).
47. Ibid.,
48. Nădejdea 1, (1938, p. 4).
49. Nădejdea 6, (1934, p. 3).
50. Nădejdea 23. July 3, (1932, p. 1).
51. Nădejdea 31, (1932, p. 1).
52. Nădejdea 41, pp. (1932, p. 1).
53. Nădejdea 51, (1934, p. 5).
(AROCV), no. 86/1937.
55. AROCV, A book of circular letters, 1935, no. 7238 Sc. 1935 (a manu-
script copy), 101–102. (The original of the cited letter can also be found
in the archives).
56. AROCV, no. 19/1936.
57. Măran (2011, pp. 303–311).
58. AROCV, A book of circular letters, 1943, no. 22 bis. (1943): 123.
59. AROCV, no. 209/1936.

60. AROCV, no.40/ex 1936.
61. AROCV, no. 144 ex 1936.
62. From 1924, the Romanian Orthodox Church accepted the Gregorian cal-
endar.
63. Nădejdea 38, (1935, pp. 4). (a feuilleton which was continued in the next
two issues).
64. Nădejdea 11 September 1938, p. 4.
65. AROCV, no. 42/1955.
66. AROCV, no. 42/1955.
67. Mata (2007, p. 158).
69. Ţicu (1980, p. 75).

68. Popi (1998, p. 330).

70. According to other sources, in 1976 (Monografia Alibunarului (1998,
71. Ţicu (1980, p. 128).

81).

72. Mata (2007, p. 158).
73. Turcoane (2006, p. 129).
74. Semănătorul, A Bulletin of the Romanian Orthodox Vicariate from the
Yugoslav Banat 6, 1987, pp. 10–11.
75. Libertatea 42, (1990, p. 2).
76. Calendar creştin ortodox 2015, published by Bishopric Dacia Felix, Vršac.
References
Chipurici, Nicolae. 1995. Românii din afara României. Bucureşti: Editura
Lumina.
Đurić-Milovanović, Aleksandra, Maran, Mirča, Sikimić, Biljana. 2011. Rumunske
verske zajednice u Banatu. Vršac: Visoka škola strukovnih studija za obrazo-
vanje vaspitača „Mihailo Palov”.
Maran, Mirča. 2004. Kulturni razvoj Rumuna u Banatu 1918–1941. Pančevo:
Istorijski arhiv u Pančevu.
Măran, Mircea. 2011. „Clerul român din Banatul sârbesc în anii păstoririi epis-
copului Veniamin Nistor”. In Lucrările simpozionului internaţional “Taină şi
mărturisire”. Caransebeş: Editura Episcopiei Caransebeşului, 303–311.
Magdu, V. 1933. “Oastea Domnului din Uzdin în propagandă religioasă la
Ecica”, Nădejdea 14.
Mata, Cornel. 2007. Monografia Voivodinţului. Voivodinţ-Vârşeţ.
Miclea, T. 1971. “Adunarea generală a Asociaţiei clerului ortodox român“,
Credinţa 3, 6 (2), Vîrşeţ, April 18, 4.
Popi, Gligor. 1976. Rumuni u jugoslovenskom Banatu između dva rata
(1918–1941). Novi Sad: Institut za izučavanje istorije Vojvodine.
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Popi, Gligor. 1998. Monografia Alibunarului. Alibunar.

Popi, Gligor. 1998. Românii din Banatul sârbesc, II. Panciova: Libertatea.
Şoşdeanu, Petru. 2010. Corul bărbătesc din Uzdin (1898–2008). Panciova:
Ţicu, Theodor. 1980. Românii din Banatul iugoslav, ediţia a doua. Hamilton.
Libertatea.
Turcoane, Andrei. 2006. Monografia parohiei Nicolinţi. Nicolinţi.

Uroş Doloveanu, A. 1931. “Sectarismul în Banatul-jugoslav”, Foaia diecezană 9.
March 1, 6.
Uroş Doloveanu, Aurel. 1931. “Sectarismul în Banatul-jugoslav” (continuation),
Foaia diecezană, nor. 10. March 8, 2–3.
Uroş Doloveanu, Aurel. 1931. “Zorile unei renaşteri creştineşti”, Nădejdea 34, 1.
Vesa, Pavel. 2007. Episcopii Aradului 1706–2006. Arad: Editura Guthenberg univers.
CHAPTER 14
The Brotherhood of Theologians

Zoe and Its Influence on Twentieth-
Century Greece
Amaryllis Logotheti
Church and State in Nineteenth-Century Greece

The Brotherhood of Theologians Zoe was founded in 1907: it evolved
from a semi-monastic brotherhood with few members to one of the
most, if not the most, influential religious organisations in twentieth-
century Greece. Its founder, Archimandrite Efsevios Matthopoulos
(1849–1929), had a long religious trajectory during the second half of
the nineteenth century, which enabled him, through experience and mili-
tant devotion, to create a religious para-ecclesiastical1 model with direct
social involvement and great potential for expansion. However, Zoe did
not exist in a vacuum, nor was it a mere product of the twentieth cen-
tury. On the contrary, Zoe was the by-product of the long and turbu-
lent nineteenth century, which led to a need for religious revival and the
pursuit of values that had been lost or modified. There were three main
reasons for the establishment of such religious organisations throughout
the nineteenth century: first, the unresolved and constantly changing
A. Logotheti (*) 
Panteion Univeristy, Athens, Greece

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_14
286 A. Logotheti
relations between the Church and the state; secondly, an official Church
that was often criticised as weak and lukewarm in its convictions; and
thirdly, the use of religious means to express social, political, and eco-
nomic discontent.
The modern synthesis that emerged between religion and national
identity in nineteenth-century Greece viewed Orthodoxy as an inte-
gral and indispensable element of Greek identity, a term that was in
fact synonymous with ‘Greekness’. The consequences of this fusion
were twofold. On the one hand, Greek national identity absorbed into
its rubric numerous religious markers, as in the case of Annunciation
Day (25 March), which became the Greek national holiday commemo-
rating the 1821 revolution against the Ottomans. On the other hand,
Orthodoxy was equally absorbed into Modern Greek national identity,
paving the way for the ‘nationalization of Orthodoxy’. This is in accord-
ance with Roudometof’s definition of the particularisation of a formerly
universalistic religion, whereby God became in effect not a universal
God, but the God of a particular nation.2
During the first period of the independent Greek state’s existence,
religion dominated, emerging through two largely opposing fields:
(a) the formation of a ‘state church’ and a quasi ‘state Orthodoxy’ which
would respond to the nationalising needs of the newly constructed state,
and (b) the emergence of a series of ‘resistance’ discourses. These aimed
at maintaining traditional social structures and/or protesting against the
new political, social, and cultural realities, such as the inequalities and
hierarchies produced by the modern state. Religious discourse changed
its nature in the second half of the nineteenth century from a ‘defensive’
to an ‘offensive’ stance. It no longer had to rescue and preserve tradi-
tional society, so instead it set its sights on transforming and reforming
society in accordance with traditional values repositioned for a modern
context.3 What we witness here is an ideological shift. Conservatism
no longer asked for a return to pre-modern values; on the contrary, it
sought to adapt modern values to traditional patterns. Modernity was
not rejected in its entirety: an attempt was made to realign it with ‘ances-
tral traditions’.
The re-emergence of Orthodox Christianity during the post-
revolutionary years not only served as an ideological counterpoint to
Western ideas. Its pervasive influence on the popular and rural strata
turned it into an ideological filter through which people perceived the
world, making religion both their national foothold as well as their line
14 THE BROTHERHOOD OF THEOLOGIANS ZOE AND ITS INFLUENCE … 287
of defence against the new realities dictated by trade, state repression, and
their consequent liberal and authoritarian repercussions.4 The by-product
of this process was the emergence of individuals and religious communi-
ties who acted as bearers of a new religious and social purity, gripped by
excruciating doubts about the role of the church leadership and alarmed
by the extremely slow reaction of the latter to support Orthodoxy effec-
tively. The goal of these actors (individuals, clubs, and brotherhoods) was
the organisation of an effective mission in the service of society and cater-
ing to the wellsprings of Orthodoxy: by doing this, they would face the
new challenges and restore the glory, power, and authority of the Church.
These first religious or para-religious organisations, as witnessed either in
individual action or mass movements, can be seen as the forefathers of the
Zoe brotherhood; therefore, we consider them to be very important.
An individual who embodied popular Orthodoxy was Christophoros
Panagiotopoulos (1770–1861), widely known as Papoulakos. Although
illiterate and advanced in years, he became quite popular in the
Peloponnese peninsula with his fervent preaching, which initially had a
strong moral content: exhortation to repentance and compliance with
the rules of church life, denunciation of perjury and theft, especially of
the animal rustling that literally plagued the western Peloponnese at the
time, and the condemnation of adultery. Towards the end of his life,
his criticism was directed to more political matters, such as the foreign,
non-Orthodox king, the constitution, and the laws, which he consid-
ered to be a creation of the Devil, and the foreign powers that wanted
once more to enslave Greece. Even the Holy Synod was harshly criti-
cised, since it was controlled by King Otto. In other words, the deep fear
of an illiterate man for developments that he could not control, assess,
and ultimately prevent revealed the inability of a large part of rural soci-
ety to adapt to inevitable changes in everyday life. This was expressed by
embracing the only traditional value that could respond to the new social
reality: religion.
Another influential and, in terms of Zoe, more important person was
Apostolos Makrakis (1831–1905), a nineteenth-century religious intel-
lectual who became very popular by criticising Church and state mecha-
nisms alike, by condemning the European Enlightenment, and by trying
to achieve the conservative modernisation of society through a Church
reformation. To that end, he established two associations, ‘John the
Baptist’ and ‘Constantine the Great’, aiming to create a religious com-
munity that would share the same ideals, strengthen ties between his
288 A. Logotheti
followers, and consolidate his reform programme. The most impor-

tant difference between him and the earlier messianic figures of the
Greek world is that, for the first time, his social reform programme
was expressed through specific organisational structures.5 His rela-
tions with the Church gradually worsened, and in 1878 the Holy Synod
issued a circular which forbade Christians from following Makrakis’
theological and philosophical fallacies. One of his closest disciples was
Efsevios Matthopoulos, who would later found Zoe. Makrakis fostered
Matthopoulos’ ideological tendencies, and the disciple was probably
inspired to set-up Christian groups committed to religious teaching and
action under his mentor’s influence. Matthopoulos’ pietistic morality
is evident in his spiritual child, Zoe, a brotherhood based on two pil-
lars: maintaining the link between the Church and the Nation unbro-
ken and not questioning existing theological dogma.6 However, unlike
Makrakis and his anticlerical stance, Matthopoulos chose to stay close to
the Church in an effort that could be classified as religious entryism, in
the sense that he thought that reforming the Church by setting a power-
ful example would be a more fruitful strategy than direct confrontation.
Despite his considerable reformative ambitions, Zoe’s spiritual journey
and expansion would have exceeded its founder’s wildest expectations.
Zoe
Zoe continued the nineteenth-century tradition of incorporating all
criticism of state policies into a religious discourse, thus using religious
arguments as a filter to distil opinions of a strictly secular nature (such
as on education, foreign policy, social stratification, etc.). The most
durable of Zoe’s sources that allow us to follow its ideology is its epon-
ymous weekly periodical, with a tradition of uninterrupted publication
for more than a century: the first volume was published in 1911, and it
remains in print today. The brotherhood had a communal, semi-monas-
tic character.7 Its members lived together in a multi-storey building in
the centre of Athens and had to voluntarily accept the three virtues of
traditional Orthodox monasticism: celibacy, poverty, and obedience.8
We do not know the exact number of members of the brotherhood in
the beginning, but we know that the highest number (about 150) was
reached around 1959.9 With respect to their composition, the mem-
bers were mainly ‘graduates of Orthodox theology’ and, in exceptional
cases, non-theologians who were willing to contribute to the work of the

association.10
The main purposes of Zoe were twofold: the spiritual growth of its
members according to the principles of Orthodox spirituality and com-
plete dedication to the expansion of Orthodoxy within Greece in a
framework of growing urbanisation and secularisation.11 The brother-
hood also had quite clear means for the realisation of its vision. Since
the very beginning, according to the articles of its association, Zoe envis-
aged organising sermons and lectures both lay and scientific in content,
creating Sunday schools and other educational establishments to spread
the word of God, founding public libraries, circulating printed material
(books, periodicals, pamphlets, etc.), charity work and mission in Greece
and abroad, and close cooperation with other organisations that fos-
tered similar goals and ideas.12 With Zoe’s activities reaching a peak dur-
ing the Greek civil war (1946–1949), we may safely conclude that the
brotherhood attained its goals to a certain degree. It did not, of course,
achieve the lasting Christian utopia for which it was striving, but it nev-
ertheless managed to expand all over Greece, influence the Church, and
eventually become a crucial state ally. It is important to note that Zoe
always planned to stay ‘within the world’ and actively try to change it,
for which it received lots of criticism, starting with dissenting opinions
on its nature. Was it an ecclesiastical, ex-ecclesiastical, or para-ecclesi-
astical organisation? We may immediately exclude the term ‘ecclesiasti-
cal’, since Zoe never became an integral part of the Orthodox Church of
Greece; however, since it was not excluded from or foreign to the Greek
Orthodox tradition, it is hard to label it as ‘exo-ecclesiastical’. The term
that applies most fittingly to Zoe’s case would be ‘para-ecclesiastical’
in the sense that it can be defined as a ‘voluntary, not-for-profit asso-
ciation of Christians working outside denominational control to achieve
some specific ministry or social service’.13 At the same time, it existed
alongside mainstream religion.14
Most organisations with these characteristics tend to be Protestant
or Evangelical; for this reason, Zoe has been labelled a ‘Protestant’
organisation by many. For instance, one of its prominent former mem-
bers, Hristos Yannaras, believed that the theological sources of Zoe were
mostly Protestant,15 and therefore labelled it a foreign pietistic movement
which deviated from a genuinely Orthodox spirit.16 His main argument
was that emphasis was placed in a pietistic way upon moral perfection,
while the dogmas of the Orthodox Church were neglected. It was not
290 A. Logotheti
the dominance of the Protestant model within Orthodoxy that Zoe

promoted, but rather a reorganisation of the sovereign discourse of the
Church as the preferential ally of the state within the borrowed version
of the Protestant example. The accusations that Zoe was an estranged
religious movement derive mainly from the Protestant idea that salva-
tion is not to be found in any kind of withdrawal from the world but in
the midst of worldly activities, a concept that Zoe followed to the letter.
According to Serif Mardin, religion and its representatives play the role of
middlemen between the individual and the state.17 The element of corpo-
rate organisation was borrowed from the Protestant model, but what Zoe
was really striving for was the control of this ‘intermediary’ social domain
with a normative model (work, ethics, charity etc.).18
Zoe, due to its complex structure and strict organisation, gained such
independence and exercised such influence upon the population that it
seemed to replace the Church in many ways. This was not, however, its
goal. In regard to the Church, the word that would best describe Zoe’s
policy is not ‘replacement’, but rather ‘entryism’. Zoe did not intend to
become a church in the place of the Church: it aimed to penetrate the
Church ideologically and impose its ideas on it. Like many other reform-
ist movements in the past, the mission was to reform the Church and
make it function within a secular world that was drifting away from reli-
gion.19 Nevertheless, it is evident that the religious revival of the peo-
ple with regard to Orthodox spirituality originated from private initiative
and not from the official Church. Thus, conflict between them was una-
voidable.20 The two most crucial moments of tension between Zoe and
the Church can be traced to the years 1914 and 1923. In 1914, hav-
ing been attacked by an archimandrite, Zoe was acquitted without a
trial because the Holy Synod considered Zoe’s written explanations
adequate.21 On the second occasion, this time condemned by a bishop,
Zoe had to justify itself before the Holy Synod. It was not only acquit-
ted, but also received the praise and blessing of the entire hierarchy
for its work. The judgment of the Holy Synod was also signed by the
bishop who levelled the initial accusation.22 After the normalisation of
the relations between Zoe and the Church, we may safely conclude that
the former’s activities expanded more or less unabashedly, leading to the
achievement of the brotherhood’s two main goals: to engage the Church
in the same ideological agenda and to assist the Church in becoming a
solid counterpart of the state. Concerning the Church, it would not be
an exaggeration to claim that Zoe managed to induce it to assume active
missionary work, an action that was foreign to the Greek Church until
the beginning of the twentieth century.
Zoe’s Network
The interwar years in Greece proved to be fertile ground for religious
intervention: social inequalities exploded, and easily-made wealth stood
in stark contrast to extreme poverty. A ‘European’ lifestyle in major
urban centres went hand in hand with huge demographic changes in the
country, which were the result of the increasing number of refugees from
Asia Minor. These rapid and alarming changes, especially for conserva-
tive environments, gave a boost to Zoe to start expanding and infiltrat-
ing society with charity and preaching work.
Faithful to the tenets of modern religion, Zoe considered religious
action to be a part of all aspects of life. Several societies operating under
Zoe’s umbrella exemplified this paradigm by aspiring to embrace all
ages with a wide range of activities: from Sunday school catechism for
school children to the organisation of unions for parents, professionals,
scientists, and simple people alike. The general name for all the unions/
associations was ‘The cooperating Christian Societies of St Paul’.23 These
organisations complemented each other and worked together, while
remaining connected to few leading persons. This in effect meant that,
despite their diversity, one can talk about a single, interlinked move-
ment, especially since the Brothers of Zoe and the Sisters of Efseveia
(the respective sisterhood) held key organisational positions and formed
the undisputed spiritual leadership.24 Between 1926 and 1950, several
organisations proliferated: although they may have seemed fragmented
and devoted to a special cause, they nevertheless aimed at uniting people
by means of their distinct interests and occupations in order to further
the cause of shared religious and social responsibilities within the com-
munity. Division does not keep people apart; on the contrary, it unites
them under common ideals. One of Zoe’s leaders described this vision
very clearly:
Everyone should know what to do. What is his job? What is your weapon?
Everyone should know that well! Not just: I belong to a great a general
mission. What is your specialty, sir? What are your orders for today’s battle?
A daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly programme. Not a vague mission,
but an applied, individual [mission] along social sectors. How will I work
292 A. Logotheti
among porters, you among shoemakers, you among chemists, you among
traders?25
We will mention some of these activities to show how far Zoe went in
order to methodically spread its ideal of a ‘New Greece’. Children and
schooling were fundamental in this project; therefore, there were quite
a few associations dedicated to children of school age as well as young
adults, university students, and young professionals. Educating children
is always crucial when the far-reaching goal is to transform society, but
in this case there was a complementary, more practical reason: Sunday
schools were crucial for Zoe since in the 1920s leftist ideas started pen-
etrating Greek society, and religious education was seen as a defence
against this foreign invasion. Ioannis Kolitsaras, a prominent Zoe mem-
ber, stated his concerns very clearly:
[…] During those times the negationist nonsense of Delmouzos and

Glinos had flooded the schools, [and] under the guise of improving educa-
tion they were actually propagating an atheist, Marxist ideology. Therefore
we should find a way for the child, freely and of its own will, to follow
courses appropriate for his age and in the best possible educational way, in
a place different from school. The most sacred and suitable space was the
temple. The material of the course had to be very carefully chosen from
the Old and New Testament, from ecclesiastical history, and the List of
Saints of the Church […] for adolescents and young people.26
In the winter of 1926–1927, the first-seven Sunday schools were

founded, and within the first decade Zoe established 240 lower-level,
50 medium-level, and 15 high-level Sunday schools,27 which were fre-
quented by 30,600 pupils countrywide.28 The highest number of Sunday
schools controlled by Zoe was 2216 in 1959.29 At this point, we should
make it clear that one has to be cautious with citing exact numbers,
since most of them were given by Zoe or its members and are repro-
duced by almost all scholars. However, even if we consider the numbers
to be slightly exaggerated, this does not change the fact that they remain
impressive. One out of every five pupils nationwide was frequenting a
Sunday school in the 1950s.30
Zoe did not restrict itself to Sunday schools. The Christian Education
Pan-Hellenic Union of Parents was founded in 1934 to promote the
spread of Sunday schools all over Greece. In 1937, the Christian Union
of Scientists was established and started issuing the monthly periodical

Aktines, which addressed a more educated audience and had as its major
goal the demonstration of the reliability of Christianity as the highest
cultural asset and the sole truth, as well as its harmonious relationship
with science.31 Zoe already owned a publishing house called Damascus,
and it published poetry, short stories and novels, and books of classical
and devotional content. The girls’ and women’s associations of Zoe
were coordinated by Efseveia, the Missionary Sisterhood of Christian
Women. Its main activities were leading the Sunday schools and the
student movement, publishing and promoting the fortnightly maga-
zine for children The Child’s Life, being responsible for nurses in hos-
pitals as well as for young working women, organising student choirs,
assisting the female members of the Christian Union of Scientists, and
organising Bible study groups. It is worth mentioning that all members
were volunteers. The Christian Union of Educators was another asso-
ciation which published a periodical, Hellenic-Christian Education. The
Christian Union of Working Youth was founded in 1945 and soon estab-
lished 70 branches in the most important Greek towns: it had over 2000
members in its heyday. An important social welfare association was estab-
lished at the beginning of the Second World War: Pronoia (Welfare),
founded in 1940, had as its mission an extensive relief programme to aid
the suffering homeless and poor families and a simultaneous dedication
to their moral and spiritual awakening. The Student Christian Union
was founded in 1945 and soon became the largest student movement
in Greece. The St. Eunice Christian Union was founded in 1948 and
involved young women who became voluntary nurses in hospitals and
infirmaries of Athens.
If we were to trace the leitmotiv behind all the organisations that Zoe
coordinated, it could be summarised with the words ‘missionary work’:
the world was perceived as a battlefield which was to be conquered
by religious mission, the most important weapon. The method to be
applied towards the final victory of Christian values was the foundation
of several organisations that were to penetrate society both vertically and
horizontally. According to Seraphim Papakostas, Zoe’s leader from 1927
to 1954:
You have to engrave two lines. One is vertical and the other horizontal.
The vertical line elevates you and connects you to Christ. Elevate your
hearts upwards, connect your existence with the Spirit, become a temple
294 A. Logotheti
of the living God… The other, horizontal line leads you as missionaries
to your neighbour under the commandment of God. […] Each day, with
your words, your deeds, your example, your whole life, you have to preach
God’s Kingdom, you have to become the light of Christ among the people
[…] so that the praised Christian civilisation becomes a reality.32
The Sunday schools are such an example of this vertical and horizontal
hierarchy. Vertically, there was a top-down strict hierarchy that coordi-
nated the whole mission: 10–15 Sunday schools formed a group, and
2–3 such groups formed a precinct. All leaders of groups and precincts
together with a brother from Zoe made up the Sunday school central
committee, which coordinated and controlled the work. The teaching
personnel were instructed at special tutorials, where they all used the
same material and preaching methods. There was very little room for
improvisation or divergence from the programme. Horizontally, the chil-
dren were supposed to absorb as much of the material taught as possible
and were instructed to spread their knowledge. They were expected to
propagate the ideals of the Sunday school to their social surroundings.
The most successful pupils were those who brought their classmates,
teachers, immediate and extended family, friends, and even strangers
(ill people in hospitals, the poor families they helped, etc.) to the broth-
erhood. The charity work that was expected from all Zoe members also
blatantly included and presupposed the notion of proselytism.
Considered broadly, this was how Zoe managed its network. The ver-
tical structure, the relationship with God, was mediated entirely by the
brotherhood and its strict hierarchy. The horizontal structure was syn-
onymous with mission and the bringing of as many as possible to the
Christian way of life. This way of life was not meant in the sense of an
abstract or personal religious faith, but a pious life of which the only
possible guarantor was Zoe. Believing in God and living by his com-
mand could only be defined, measured, and ensured by his representa-
tives on earth. Not only was the supernatural realm ‘above’ this world
in terms of value and control, but also both the supernatural and earthly
worlds were themselves organised in terms of a religiously legitimated
hierarchy.33 It seems that Zoe was aware from the very beginning of
the basic notion that authority should be based on consent, and con-
sent should be gained through persuasion, not coercion. To understand
in our bones, so to speak, Paul’s great organic metaphor of the body of
Christ is to understand that there are many gifts, that we all have our
gifts, and that the body cannot function without all of us.34
The Prevalence of Ideology

The 1940s was a decade of war and destruction, and therefore religious
feeling revived. Most people did not feel themselves to be masters of
their own fates: even those who took part in the armed struggle knew
that their destinies depended largely on forces they could not control.
Furthermore, not everyone was able to withstand the pauperisation and
mental stress involved. During the Greek-Italian war and the German
occupation, Zoe held a rather low-profile stance. It mainly distributed
its periodical, along with Aktines and religious books, to soldiers and
focused on charitable work: it organised soup kitchens, feeding daily
almost 10% of the student population nationwide. Kitchen soups for chil-
dren were ‘of major importance from a moral, social, and national point
of view’,35 since they allowed the brotherhood to extend its roots even
deeper into society and thus pave the way for Zoe’s full expansion during
the forthcoming civil war.
With the perfect subordination of all the associated organisations
to a top-down hierarchy, the mechanism was in place to spread ideas
and perform any given task. We should keep in mind that, from an
organisational and disciplinary point of view, Zoe has often been com-
pared to the Communist Party of Greece (KKE) and was perceived as
its counterweight, especially during the turbulent years of the civil war
(1946–1949). Its structure and efficacy were therefore mutatis mutan-
dis often parallel to those of the communists, and the brotherhood has
even been called the ‘EAM of the Church’.36 It is not an exaggera-
tion to say that Zoe dived into the pool of anticommunism with all its
strength. By activating a notion common in historic religions, according
to which religious action is above all necessary for salvation,37 the broth-
erhood gave its religious action a very concrete anticommunist charac-
ter. All of the previous charity and missionary work was turned against
the communists. To give an example, one of the tasks of the numerous
Zoe associations was to visit hospitals and have members offer their ser-
vices to the ill or those injured in war. However, during the civil war,
they did this exclusively for the soldiers of the nationalist army. So, char-
ity projects that ‘were regularly designed to involve as many people as
possible’38 were transformed into militant charity in favour of the nation-
ally minded, supporters of the anticommunist struggle, and/or commu-
nists who were willing to change their ideological affiliation. Charity was
directed at people from the war-stricken areas and was always connected
296 A. Logotheti
to their moral and spiritual awakening. In the context of the war, this
awakening was inextricably intertwined with the predominant ideology
of ethnikofrosyni (national mindedness or loyalty to the nation)39 and the
promotion of the Greek Christian civilisation, a notion embraced by the
coalition of powers on the right. Zoe’s militant actions involved speeches
in favour of ‘national struggle’, spreading anticommunist printed mate-
rial, and providing moral and material support to the nationalist army.
Indeed, it became such a dominant player in anticommunist propa-
ganda that in 1948 the Greek throne officially assigned to the brother-
hood the ‘spiritual guidance of the anti-communist struggle’.40 Seraphim
Papakostas and Alexandros Tsirintanis, the leader of the Christian Union
of Scientists established ‘Greek Light’ (Ellinikon Fos) in 1948, a society
with all the characteristics of a propagandistic campaign.41 Its main task
was to organise anticommunist propaganda by inventing slogans, hold
events in favour of the national army in town squares, visit soldiers’ fami-
lies, offer courses at children’s homes (paidoupoleis),42 and maintain cor-
respondence with soldiers at the front. The Christian Union of Students
alone a flow of over 1,000,000 pamphlets, magazines, and books, and
some 40,000 letters sent to the front.43
There are two elements that should definitely be stressed from this
period:
(a) Zoe did not exercise anticommunism for the sake of it. It found
in anticommunist propaganda the ideal opportunity to promote
the ideology it had advocated since its foundation and which for
the first time it was close to implementing. Anticommunism was
not the goal: it was the means to lead Greece to its eternal destiny
and realise the Greek Orthodox ideal. The ideal can be defined as
a romantic idea in which a return to the Byzantine era, the need
to reconstruct the national narrative, and the progressive retreat
from the ideas of the Enlightenment was combined with politico-
religious rhetoric. This rendered ‘Greek-Orthodox civilisation’ as
one of the most important features of the past and the present.44
This present was threatened by the emergence of a contemporary
enemy, who embodied in this specific time and space the eternal
threat of the eradication of the ‘chosen nation’.
(b) The Greek civil war marked the moment of the highly antici-
pated, but hardly expected, breakthrough of the brotherhood
into the state apparatus. This was a state that had for years
remained suspicious of all private initiative that criticised state

inadequacy in social welfare and tried to play an active role in
assisting or replacing state functions (in education, social welfare,
health, etc.). For instance, the support and promotion of national
issues by the Church did not always find resonance among the
political authorities, since the latter generally harboured sus-
picion against any institution with a strong social impact speak-
ing about issues that the state saw as part of its own monopoly.45
Considering the civil war to be the foremost national issue and
concentrating its efforts on social action (mostly charity), Zoe
managed to overcome the obstacle of state suspicion and upgrade
itself to a status equivalent to that of the state apparatus, thereby
becoming a pillar of anticommunism. Religion, not as a dogma
but as the glue of social cohesion, was exploited in order to con-
solidate the hegemonic nationalist ideology.
Conclusion
Although Zoe still exists today, it remains a shadow of its old self. Its
gradual decline started in the late 1950s, when two distinct groups
started taking shape inside Zoe. Their different views (some define the
conflict in terms of conservative vs. progressive members,46 others as
old members vs. new members)47 led to the split of Zoe in 1960 and
the creation of a new, more rigid brotherhood called Soter. Neither of
the two brotherhoods (or others that were formed in the future) was to
regain the former glory of their parent organisation within the Greek
social sphere. Zoe’s swan song was during the years of the Greek junta
(1967–1974), when it managed to maintain a majority in the Holy
Synod and appoint one of its members as the archbishop of Athens:
this was the closest it would ever get to its aspiration of penetrating and
reforming the Church. It was also the closest it would ever get to the
state, since ‘the ideology of Zoe was used as ideology of the state’.48
After the fall of the colonels’ regime, Zoe was identified with the ideol-
ogy of the extreme right: it failed to adapt to changes in the Western
world and thus never regained its former glory. As we have already
stated, the brotherhood’s main aim was to penetrate every social class
through the oral and written word of God, and to find workers able and
willing to create a vibrant grassroots Christian movement all over Greece
and wherever Greeks were to be found.49 Zoe’s ideological arsenal for
298 A. Logotheti
achieving ideological hegemony in Greek society included national unity,

the establishment of a common collective identity, and the concentration
of power. Judging from the outcome, we may conclude that both goals
were achieved to a great extent, although not without a few bumps on
the way. If we were to give a name to its ideology, it would be conserva-
tive modernisation rather than anti-modernism.
Notes
1. The term ‘para-ecclesiastic’ is used to designate how Christian faith-based
organisations work outside of and across denominations to engage in
social welfare and evangelism, usually independent of church oversight.
Zoe itself always claimed to be ‘strictly and ardently Orthodox […], a liv-
ing part of the Orthodox Church’. Rev. Constantelos (1959, p. 11). For
more info, see Note 14.
2. Roudometof (2010, p. 27).
3. Gazi (2011, pp. 43–44).
4. Liakos (1983, pp. 121–144, 137).
5. Gazi (2004, p. 57).
6. Maczewski (2002, p. 34).
7. Makrides (1997, p. 189).
8. Gousidis (1989, p. 43).
9. Bratsiotes (1960, p. 372).
10. Maczewski (2002, p. 255). Regarding the participation of non-theologi-
ans in the Brotherhood, they carried out technical, accounting, or com-
mercial tasks.
11. Makridis (1988, p. 168). More precisely, ‘the purpose of the Brotherhood
is both the mutual assistance of its members towards their moral eleva-
tion to Christ and their exhaustive devotion to their mission. On the
other hand [the purpose of the Brotherhood is devotion to] the mission
through abnegation and self-sacrifice of propagating the Christian princi-
ples and truths among the people’.
12. Cited in Maczewski (2002, pp. 255–256).
13. Reid (1990, p. 863).
14. Another interesting definition for a parachurch or, as we prefer to call it,
para-ecclesiastical organisation is that of ‘organizations that are not part
of the traditional, organized church, yet that are engaged in churchlike
activities’, which was provided by Willmer et al. (1998, p. 12).
15. Cf. also Maczewski, op. cit., passim.
16. Yannaras (1972, pp. 86–112). See also Yannaras (1987).
17. Mardin (1995, pp. 292–293).
18. For a more detailed discussion, see Stamatopoulos (2014, pp. 34–64).

19. Anastassiadis (2010, p. 44).
20. Makrides (1998, p. 173).
21. Papakostas (1948, p. 68).
22. For details, see Psilopoulos (1966, pp. 258–289).
23. This article does not exhaust the associations that are related to Zoe. For a
complete account, see Maczewski and Constantellos.
24. Maczewski, op. cit., 1.51.
25. Mastrogiannopoulos (1962, p. 39).
26. Kolitsaras (1980, p. 47).
27. Technically all Sunday schools belong to the Church and are established
by a priest or bishop. However, the impression of society is that they were
run by Zoe, since the brotherhood fervently supported and played a cru-
cial role in their expansion. We came up with three criteria which define
whether a Sunday school is part of Zoe’s network: (a) if the leading
priest/bishop/parish maintains close ties to Zoe, (b) if a Sunday school
uses the teaching methods and manuals of Zoe, and (c) if the one respon-
sible for a Sunday school is a member of any other of Zoe’s associations.
28. Papakostas, op. cit., pp. 111–112.
29. Maczewski, op. cit., p. 51.
30. Bournazos (2009, p. 31).
31. Makrides (2004, p. 161).
32. Kolitsaras, op. cit., pp. 192–193.
33. Bellah (1964, p. 366).
34. Bellah (1991, p. 465).
35. Zoe, vol. 1416, 01.03.1940.
36. Agouridis (1983, p. 23).
37. For the notion of historic religions, see Bellah (1964, pp. 358–374).
38. Dalzell Jr. (1987, p. 128).
39. The notion of ethnikofrosyni, and more precisely the adjective ethnikofron,
was first used in the Greek language in 1915, but the concept was socially
established during the Greek civil war. Values that had already existed
since Metaxas’ dictatorship (such as nation, army, religion, Hellenism,
and tradition) acquired a new meaning that excluded the communists
from the national body. For more details, see: Papadimitriou (2006),
Bournazos (2009), and Elefantis (1976).
40. Karagiannis (2001, p. 109).
41. Bournazos, op. cit., p. 32.
42. In 1947, in a campaign under the auspices of Queen Frederica, a royal
fund was raised in order to protect children from war zones from
being abducted by the communists. Thus begun the process of settling
some 18,000 children from northern Greece into 54 children’s homes
300 A. Logotheti
(paidoupoleis) located in cities and towns throughout Greece. For more

details, see Loring and van Boeschoten (2012) and Baerentzen (1987).
43. Constantellos, op. cit., p. 19.
44. Gazi (2004, p. 64).
45. Makrides (2011, p. 867).
46. Makridis (1988, p. 171).
47. Tsakonas (1963, p. 44).
48. Angelopoulos (1985, p. 221).
49. Constantellos, op. cit., p. 12.
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CHAPTER 15
The Case of the Christiyanka Journal:

The Bulgarian Orthodox Charity Network
and the Movement for Practical Christianity
After World War I
Galina Goncharova
Introduction
On 8 July 1922, the Holy Synod of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church
(BPC) established the White Cross stavropegial monastic fraternity with
the intention of fostering monasticism in the country and reviving the
influence of the Church in society. In accordance with the adopted stat-
ute, the first aim of the organisation was ‘providing assistance to the
mission of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church’. There were three types
of legitimate members: sister-nuns, student-novices (who attended the
religious school of the fraternity), and ‘zealous sisters’. The latter were
Orthodox women from different villages and cities who ‘voluntar-
ily served the fraternity by sacrificing material and moral resources’ and
helped local priests to establish and guide ‘charitable and educational’
fraternities in their parishes.1 The Holy Synod strongly encouraged the
G. Goncharova (*) 
Sofia University “St. Kliment Ohridski”, Sofia, Bulgaria

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_15
304 G. Goncharova
use of the White Cross’ statute as a model for all parish fraternities in the
country. The organisation was situated in the vicinity of the capital Sofia
on the premises of the Kurilo monastery.
The White Cross fraternity was a unique phenomenon in the
Bulgarian Orthodox Church of the time. Inspired by Catholic orders
and social organisations such as the Red Cross and the Child Protection
Union, it combined the monastic life with social activities and public
events. As Archimandrite Stefan Abadzhiev, the head of the White Cross
and chief of the economic department at the Holy Synod, claimed, it
rapidly earned the reputation of being a ‘true school for spiritual life’.
For various complex reasons, the fraternity was closed in 1933 as rapidly
as it was opened; however, it has been remembered as one of the first
serious attempts of the BPC to construct a positive public self-image of
itself as a powerful cultural and social institution on a par with the state.
One year after the establishment of the White Cross, the Union of
the Christian Orthodox Fraternities was founded. It consolidated exist-
ing organisations at parish level ‘into one living spiritual body’ and was
bound to the task of attracting ‘all Orthodox Christians’ to charitable
activities. Differing only in terms of member numbers, both the White
Cross fraternity and the Union launched a series of important educa-
tional and social initiatives. They both validated charity as a meaningful
relationship between the clergy and laity. Last but not least, they sup-
ported the restoration of the traditional authority of the BPC in social
and national terms.
Another factor closely bound the two organisations together—the
periodical Christiyanka: Journal for the Christian Family. As the journal
of the White Cross from 1923 to 1929 and of the Union from 1929
to 1948, it achieved a circulation of 15,000 copies2 and was consid-
ered to be one of the most significant forums of the Bulgarian move-
ment for practical Christianity and ‘the inner mission of the BPC’ in the
interwar period. How did it happen that a journal for women and fam-
ily issues functioned successfully as an organ of the influential charitable
organisations of the BPC and vice versa? What were the main discursive
matrixes, topics, and narratives which mobilised the public behind chari-
table causes? How did Chistiyanka face the post-war crisis of liberal soci-
ety and its values? What kind of agencies were involved or formed in the
making of this popular religious publication, which addressed both the
conditions of the day and Orthodox tradition?
15 THE CASE OF THE CHRISTIYANKA JOURNAL: THE BULGARIAN … 305
The present chapter attempts to answer these questions by analys-

ing the development of the journal in relation to a particular social and
cultural context. We will discuss the contribution of Christiyanka to the
advancement of the public vision for practical Christianity and the con-
ception of the ‘inner mission of the BPC’, both of which were central to
the movement for religious and spiritual revival in Bulgaria in the inter-
war period. This discussion is based predominantly on the issues of the
periodical published between 1923 and 1948. Alongside its own articles,
the journal also published various official documents (such as statutes,
laws, and institutional programmes) and other pieces from the church
press; nonetheless, it is possible to distinguish Christiyanka from similar
journals and to identify the different agencies and agendas of the BPC’s
social policy. It is our intention to outline the crucial role of Christiyanka
in the formation of a public space and a network for debate and work in
both the religious and secular aspects of everyday life from a cultural his-
torical perspective.
The Social and Discursive Environment

of Christiyanka
After World War I, Bulgaria faced serious political, economic, and social
turbulence. Entering the war on the side of the Central Powers and then
sharing the fate of the defeated countries, Bulgaria had to pay repara-
tions and hand over Western Thrace and Northern Dubruja to Greece
and Romania, respectively, in accordance with the terms of the Treaty
of Neuilly. The fresh memory of physical and emotional terror on the
frontlines, disappointment in the political parties responsible for the
defeat and in the liberal party system in general, and increased sensitiv-
ity towards issues of national and collective identity triggered a powerful
public discourse on the all-consuming cultural ‘crisis’. This was imag-
ined as overwhelming all of the values and structures of Bulgarian soci-
ety, from the durable state foundations of social and national solidarity to
the transient conceptions of the younger generation. As the Bill for the
National School Celebration of the ‘Day of the Leaders of the Bulgarian
Nation’ (1922) stated: ‘The virtues rooted in the souls of generations for
decades (love and respect to the ancient Bulgarians, reverence before the
figures of our national movement, devotion to and competitiveness for
goodness and beauty, zeal for perfection) were seriously shaken by the
negative results of the war. This first happened in society itself and then
306 G. Goncharova
influenced the negative behavior of the school youth. The latter became
engrossed in routine, amusement, and the shallowness of life…’3
However, the unravelling of the corrupted present was not lim-
ited merely to pessimistic conclusions. The crisis had its mirror image
in the ‘revival’ of the economic, political, and cultural power of the
national community. Both notions reflected the search for social stabil-
ity and cohesion by recalling and returning to traditional Bulgarian val-
ues. Similar to crisis, revival incorporated various discursive constructions
of better living after the wars. Derived from the history of the period
of political modernisation and integration under Ottoman rule, the
notion of ‘National Revival’ could be easily applied to radical or moder-
ate visions for social development—the pro-Nazi appeal to restore the
‘proud past’ of the pagan proto-Bulgarians or projects for the ‘physi-
cal and moral upbringing’ of the younger generation in the family and
school, for instance. Thus, Gergana Mircheva has argued that ‘the inter-
war crisis motivated the “toughening” of the discourses on national
degeneration and regeneration. Nation-rebuilding was imagined in
organicist terms and accompanied by a reinvention of Bulgarian national
history’.4
The ‘revival’ notion implied a strongly activist perspective that per-
meated the programmes and statutes of the various social organisations
and associations which claimed to contribute to a more prosperous and
virtuous future for the nation. While only a few influential non-state
organisations functioned beyond the scope of the political parties in
the pre-war period, their number increased considerably between the
1920s and the 1940s, along with the periodicals presenting their social
vision and agenda. Moreover, such organisations were divided into three
groups according to their main goals and features: ‘sports/gymnastic’,
‘moral’, and ‘patriotic’. The first fostered certain physical activities (the
Union of Bulgarian Athletic Societies Younak [Hero], the Bulgarian Boy
Scout Union, and the Bulgarian Sports Federation). The second culti-
vated human and civic virtues, from temperance to generosity, mutual
aid, and charity (the Bulgarian Temperance Federation, the Parents’
Union for Education, and the Union for the Victims of the War). The
third ‘excite and strengthen love towards the fatherland’ (the Bulgarian
National Union Kubrat, Bulgarska Rodna Zashtita [Bulgarian Native
Defence], and the All-Bulgarian Union of Father Paysiy).5 What united
all of these organisations together in a complex and multifaceted network
was their willingness to either assist or challenge the state in many areas
of public life, especially in social policy and cultural issues. They deployed
their vision for a new, hopeful, and just social order in broad initiatives
and activities; therefore, they did much more than simple promotional
work among various social groups and strata.
The Bulgarian Orthodox Church, along with its clergy and laity, was
an active part in the aforementioned network framed by and (re)framing
the discourse of crisis vs. revival. The Church was in a quite ambivalent
and complicated public position after the war. Originally, the latter came
out with the most convincing argument for turning the ‘body of Christ’
into the most important and influential social institution. The battle-
field brought to light the existential and political vulnerability of the
Bulgarian people, which only the Church was able to remove. Thus, Ivan
Snegarov, one of the most prominent Bulgarian theologians, argued that
military priests were an important factor for successful campaigns inas-
much as they contrived ‘to keep up the spirit and the morale of the sol-
diers, to create heroes and strong personalities with the Christian spirit
of self-denial’. He also came to the conclusion that ‘nobody has ever felt
the truth of the Christian faith’ with such an intensity as both priests and
laymen did during and after the war.6
However, the increased visibility and importance of the Church’s
social functions did not receive unreserved validation and acknowledge-
ment from the state. From 1913 onwards, three governments7 with
different political agendas tried to restrict the financial autonomy and
educational initiatives of the BPC. The highly anticipated election of a
new exarch was also impeded by governing elites, as was the acceptance
of a new statute of the Exarchate. In addition, the Church had to cope
with the inertia of the negative image of the clergy inherited from the
pre-war period, when the pro-Russian high clergy opposed the regime
of the ‘Bulgarian Bismarck’ Stefan Stambolov (1887–1894), which sub-
ordinated the country to the Western Great Powers.8 Above all, the war
catalysed the effects of these conflicts between the BPC and the state and
gave impetus to a public discussion on the significance of the Church for
Bulgarian society in the context of increased social insecurity and fascina-
tion with radical political and religious projects such as communism and
the esoteric Christianity of Petar Dunov.9 The increased number of peo-
ple who expected to receive public assistance and support (war invalids,
widows, and orphans) raised the question of institutions and organisa-
tions that would cooperate with the state to build a functional system of
social care. Hence, the popular notion of crisis was connected to the lack
308 G. Goncharova
of recognition and support for the BPC’s claim to leadership in national

and social affairs. Ruling circles were blamed for ‘schools full of nonbe-
lievers, the atheistic intelligentsia, the corruption of public morals, [and]
rapacity in trade’. They deserved to a great extent the apocalyptic sanc-
tion of the war.10
The overcoming of the crisis was linked to the organised com-
mitment of the clergy and laity to the material, physical, and psy
chological needs of Orthodox Christian citizens. Aspiring to take on
a role of as the arbiter of public morality, the BPC contributed to the
expansion of the so-called moral organisations. In the 1930s and 1940s,
the Holy Synod endorsed a variety of initiatives which strengthened
and centralised the work of existing Orthodox organisations with char-
itable functions. Thus, the statute of the Union of Priests’ Fraternities
in Bulgaria underwent several editions,11 and parish charitable fraterni-
ties were united in a common organisation in 1926. At the same time,
new church organisations were established, such as Orthodox societies
for children and students. The latter became members of the Union
of Orthodox Christian Societies of the School Youth in Bulgaria in
1924.12 In 1931, the Union of Orthodox Women in Bulgaria was also
established. All these organisations worked in close cooperation with
one another and furthered the religious revival by turning their atten-
tion to the social and everyday dimensions of religiosity: they also fol-
lowed the BPC’s programme for establishing large-scale charitable work.
In a speech at a conference on the life and work of the Church in Bern
in 1926, Metropolitan Stefan of Sofia stated: ‘The small country of
Bulgaria is sincerely behind and for the triumph of the ideal of practical
Christianity’.13
Appealing for practical Christianity the clergy to a great extent
adapted and adopted for their own purposes the main messages of the
popular crisis vs. revival discourse. Thus, the first issue of the journal
of the Vratsa eparchy, published under the eloquent title Duhoven
podem [Spiritual Upsurge], spoke in 1925 about ‘the storm of fire’
brought by the war and appealed to its readers to ‘unite and rally in
the name of good in order to overcome the evil which wasted away
our social life just like a heavy disease’.14 In the second year of its
publication, the journal was defined as a ‘periodical for Christian
publicity and religious education’; 12 years later, another journal
with a similar title, Duhovno Vazrazhdane [Spiritual Revival], was
published by the religious authorities of Vratsa ‘to call the Bulgarian
people to: revival, resurrection in a new life in faith, in unity and

inner strength’.15
The Christiyanka journal evolved in this context of increased cleri-
cal and lay sensitivity to social issues. The publication not only shared
the same discursive environment as journals like Duhoven podem and
Duhovno vazrazhdane, but was also responsible for developments and
shifts in this environment.
Pioneer Work for Christian Solidarity

and the Advancement of Church Social Policy
From the very beginning of Christiyanka, it was much more than

just a platform for addressing women and their relationship with the
Christian faith. Edited by prominent Bulgarian clerics and intellectu-
als like Archimandrite Stefan Abadzhiev, the head of the White Cross,16
Metropolitan Neofit of Vidin, and the poet and writer Lubomir
Bobevski, the journal gathered the leading voices of modern Bulgarian
religious culture to provide an answer to the quest for a new experience
of community and humanity after the war.
The introductory article in the first issue from 1923 clearly revealed
the intention of certain church activists to define and promote the social
policy of BPC. It characterised the Church and its members as ‘social
workers’ who should combine the observance of religious rituals in the
temple with serving the indigent and suffering people in public insti-
tutions. Potential readers of the journal were called to become zeal-
ous sisters of the White Cross and join the fraternity’s effort to develop
charity and religious education under the leadership of the high clergy:
‘These zealous sisters should be in close touch with their parish priests
and under the direct leadership of the priests. They should be in a regu-
lar written and spiritual communication with the Christiyanka journal.
They should be bearers of its ideas, workers of the White Cross, mission-
aries for the restoration of harmony between faith and life, Samaritans
relieving the sadness and pain of neighbours…builders of a living vig-
orous Christianity, deaconesses in the renovated and regenerated native
church’.17
In general, the programme of the journal strictly followed the statute
of the White Cross, where the main goal of the organisation was defined
in art. 11 as ‘to support the mission of the people’s Orthodox Church
by contributing to and developing the expression of Christian mercy and
310 G. Goncharova
religious and moral education through the service of its sisters’.18 The
programme was comparable to a number of other publications (statutes,
leaflets, periodicals, etc.) of the aforementioned church organisations
that sought to create a ‘Christian public sphere’, which meant construct-
ing bonds of trust and solidarity among believers (and nonbelievers) on
the basis of broad social initiatives. Thus, if the first statute of the Union
of Priests’ Fraternities in Bulgaria aimed mainly at the dissemination of
religious knowledge and control over the public behaviour of its mem-
bers,19 the second, promulgated in 1920, added the following tasks:
to ensure ‘society’s recognition of the authority of priests’, to guaran-
tee the ‘religious and moral prosperity of Orthodox Christians’, and to
provide relief for ‘poor and invalid Christians in the eparchies’ (art. 2).20
The Union of Orthodox Women in Bulgaria envisaged the ‘establish-
ment of model nurseries, boarding houses, asylums, and summer camps
with instruction in the Orthodox faith and folk traditions’ (art. 2).21
In their vision for a Christian public sphere, the editors of
Christiyanka also provided an expanded religious version of the crisis
vs. revival discourse, denouncing post-war modern mentalities, calling
for a return to the glorious Bulgarian past, and demanding the redis-
covery of both universal and traditional Bulgarian values (i.e. centuries-
old Christian values) through joint practical endeavours. By constantly
referring to these topics, many journals and periodicals reproduced the
same quest for a renovated social order. For example, the president of
the Union of the Orthodox Christian Societies for the School Youth
described his organisation as ‘one of the most typical mass religious
movements in the country’ that had appeared in the ‘psychologically
morbid postwar period’. He specifically outlined the importance of a
national upbringing for the youth and bound the future of the organ-
isation with the preservation of the Orthodox culture intrinsic to ‘the
history of Christianity and the history of the Bulgarian people’.22 In the
same fashion, within the pages of Christiyanka, the prominent intellec-
tual Iliya Bobchev sought the help of the Bulgarian clergy in the ‘strug-
gle’ against the corruption of morals, which he defined as ‘the fruit and
result of the reckless war’: after all, ‘the clergy had always taken into
account the sorrows of the Bulgarian people’.23
What distinguished Christiyanka from other publications of the
church press was its role as a pioneer in the field of social welfare in terms
of gender. In every issue released during the first seven years of the jour-
nal, the public appearances of the sisters-nuns were described in terms
close to those found in the lives of saints. They were portrayed as fervent
believers with spiritual beauty, always ready to sacrifice time and energy
to their educational and charitable activities. Their most important task
was the creation and promotion of charitable fraternities. The journal
printed numerous stories about peasants and citizens who were happy to
have had the sisters as helpmates in the (re)organisation of parish net-
works. Fraternities similar to the White Cross were praised as ‘kernels’,
‘nests’, and ‘the yeast’ of a new Christian public sphere, ‘a living active
school for spiritual revival’,24 which would change radically the material
and mental condition of all suffering and needy Bulgarians.
Paradoxically enough, this narrative of a spiritual revival being per-
formed by pious sisters completely devoted to their missionary labours
was combined with a discussion on the position of Bulgarian women in
society and the family. On the one hand, the editors tended to defend
traditional Bulgarian morality, which prescribed a gendered division
of labour and stressed the role of motherhood in raising Christian val-
ues in children. They published critical articles on the Bulgarian wom-
en’s movement alongside instructions on how to keep the love of one’s
spouse alive. A regular column entitled ‘Household updates’ advised
female readers about how ‘to redouble the material income of the fam-
ily’.25 This modern tabloidesque style was exalted by illustrations on
the cover and inside, which depicted icons and pictures in a secessionist
style. On the final pages, one could find advertisements for the newspa-
per Woman’s Mirror under an angry notice against pornography.26 The
journal was filled with stories about women saints, ‘patriotic Bulgarian
women’, and heroic Orthodox mothers who inspired or had been
inspired by the religious, moral, and national revival movements. Thus,
a kind of metanarrative about the religious metamorphosis of femininity
was produced, which also emphasised the vanguard role of female religi-
osity in social welfare.
What gave meaning to this peculiar mixture of religious and secu-
lar representations in the journal’s agenda was the maxim of advertis-
ing a unique model of Orthodox communication. Registering that ‘the
struggle against the enemies of the Church has transferred from squares
and halls to the printing press’, the editors stated that ‘Christiyanka
should make its way to every town, to every village, to every library…
in order to encourage the intelligentsia to enter the charitable fraterni-
ties’.27 The same demand was applied to the nuns of the White Cross.
They were summoned to follow the example of the ‘mendicant friars of
312 G. Goncharova
Rila monastery in the times of the Turkish yoke’ and enter every sin-
gle Christian home, even if just to reconcile quarrelling spouses.28 The
overt aspiration of clerics like Stefan Abadzhiev to turn the fraternity
and its journal into a kind of window display of the new social policy of
the BPC explains the blend of spirituality with worldly life. It also pro-
vides one possible key for understanding the rapid rise and decline of
the White Cross ‘brand’. Conceived as a kind of ecclesiastical Orthodox
order with a clearly philanthropic purpose, the White Cross was an origi-
nal and innovative religious initiative in the Bulgarian Orthodox context.
Hence, its core members found themselves in a delicate position when
it came to representing high religious values and fulfilling their church
and social duties with equal diligence. Thus, the nuns regularly organ-
ised and took part in litany processions and ‘spiritual excursions’ around
the country. The excursions included delivering religious talks, visiting
and instructing believers in their homes, distributing icons and religious
literature, collecting aid for the White Cross, and encouraging the crea-
tion of fraternities. The nuns often went to work in local factories and
gave spiritual concerts in schools and community centres. Before pub-
lishing Christiyanka, they edited and circulated the religious leaflet series
Faith and Life; from 1926, they worked hard in the newly established
printing house of the White Cross. At the end of 1927, the fraternity
was made up of 11 nuns and 17 novices. Within the same year, however,
the decline of the White Cross began. Several nuns left the fraternity for
health reasons. There were accusations that the sisters had been forced
to work extremely long hours in the printing house and were living in a
very bad condition while also adhering to strict monastic discipline. In
1931, Christiyanka was redeemed by the Holy Synod and turned into a
journal for the Union of Orthodox Christian Fraternities in Bulgaria.29
In 1933, the White Cross ceased to exist for the same reason that it had
appeared: the organisational agenda which combined narrow religious
duties with community-wide social activities.
From the Promotion of a Renovated Social and Religious

Order to the Panoply of Social Compassion
The introductory note in the first issue of the renovated Christiyanka,
signed by Metropolitan Pavel of Stara Zagora, president of the Union
of Fraternities, was far from the expected proclamation about the inten-
tions and aspirations of the new editorial board.30 The only indication of
a change in the ownership was the clarification that Christiyanka would

be published instead of Vazhod [Upsurge], a magazine which had been
planned to represent the Union of Fraternities. There was no continu-
ity with the old issues of Christiyanka. Only a promised discussion on
the role of women in the Church and on the need for balance between
the material and spiritual aspects of existence was reminiscent of the
former publication.31 However, the columns ‘Life of the Unions’ and
‘Life of the Fraternities’ kept the general religious and moral message of
the White Cross alive in that they pompously chronicled the fulfilment
of the goals and tasks of the united fraternities in the spheres of reli-
gious education and charity. The latter in particular was widely defined
in the Union’s ‘Programme for Practical Work’, which was adopted in
the organisation’s fifth convention. It was held to include the following:
(a) gathering money in special money boxes at home, separate from
membership dues, and giving up this cash to the president of the fra-
ternity to share out among the needy; (b) regular commissions tasked
with finding the poor, orphans, widows, unemployed, and needy in the
vicinity of the temple; (c) visiting hospitals, asylums, and prisons; (d)
health care (the provision of medicine) and taking care of funerals for
the extremely poor; (e) kindergartens where mothers working in facto-
ries could leave their children during the day; (f) soup kitchens; (g) the
obligation of each member to provide clothing to one poor child dur-
ing Christian holidays; and (h) working to get those who had fallen into
religious error or a corrupted life to return to the Church.32 The con-
struction of asylums, orphanages, and rest homes was not included in
the programme because such had already been achieved when the con-
vention met and thus served as direct evidence for the sturdiness of the
Union’s organisations. The specification ‘for practical work’ and the sug-
gested localisation ‘in the vicinity of the temple’ strongly emphasised the
vector of the charitable activities of the Church: from the defined small
community of the temple to the indefinite and immense multitude of the
suffering; from personal consolidation in the faith to a real commitment
to respond to the needs of one’s fellow man; and from the monastic’s
ascetic service to the joint efforts of believers and nonbelievers in ser-
vice to humanity. It was precisely this in-between localisation of religious
experience that was outlined by the new contributors of Christiyanka.
The journal provided a spectacular panoply of images of the socially
underprivileged. Almost every issue painted in dark colours the great
number of those who ‘yearn for relief’: ‘How to help the crowd of poor,
314 G. Goncharova
deceased people, from the shelterless ones, stiff with cold and with backs
in rags, to the scabby ones…How many people wander homeless and
friendless? How many sighs and tears do we see?’33
These frescos of suffering in the secular, material world served as vivid
illustrations of the great achievements of the Orthodox fraternities in the
capital and countryside. The texts on this topic not only provided infor-
mation about certain initiatives and events, but also attempted to explore
and discover the basic grounds for a religious charitable consciousness in
which ladies replaced nuns, and the secular space where the fraternities
undertook their ‘practical work’ was brought to the fore.
Written in a sentimental and instructive fashion, these articles pedan-
tically listed the expressions of compassion and donations gathered by
the members of the Union. The story of the celebration of ‘the day of
the poor people’ organised by the Transfiguration of Christ fraternity
was a perfect example in this regard. The day started with the oration
of Metropolitan Stefan of Sofia, continued with a brass concert, and fin-
ished with a group of highborn women sewing and knitting children’s
garments. After several days, the fraternity gathered ‘a hundred of
woolen sweaters, 50 satin gowns, more than 200 metres of flared flan-
nel, 50 pairs of boots, and many overshoes, coats, socks, and gloves, [all]
brought by rich compassionate ladies’.34
Such texts showed how the fraternities achieved a balance between
the social and spiritual life that was praised in the new programme of
the journal. The story began with the following statement: ‘The
Church is an organism/constitution’. Hence, catholicity was inter-
preted as mutual giving and receiving and religiosity as an expression of
humanity. Another group of texts, manifestos of the fraternity’s model,
brought this interpretation to its apogee. They emphasised that charity
was Christianity in practice and the highest expression of belonging to
the Church. The intensive reflection on community and the continuity
of religious charity even fostered a kind of shift in Christiyanka’s stable
discourse about the advancement of practical Christianity in the coun-
try. The latter was subordinated to ‘the inner mission of the Church’ in
answer to the increased aspirations of the BPC for leadership over the
charity network. If in the previous decade the Church had fostered the
strengthening of the structures of ‘a Christian public sphere’ in order to
promote its cultural and social policy, in the middle of the 1930s these
structures required a new approach in order to sustain them and allow
them to intervene further into secular, non-spiritual spaces. Thus, Boris
Popstoimenov, one of the main contributors to Christiyanka and head of

the Holy Synod’s department for the inner church mission from 1933,
published an article on the issue, stating that: ‘In our country we began
speaking about the inner mission only a year ago’. He specified the main
goal of the inner mission as the ‘moral-religious upbringing of the indi-
vidual’ and the provision of material support to cover basic needs. He
outlined the importance of the charitable fraternities in this mission
and for the continuation of the Church’s social policy: ‘The Orthodox
Christian fraternities play their part in the development of the inner mis-
sion of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, which the following generations
will shape and complete’.35
The observations of Popstoimenov inspired theologians and cler-
ics to apply the Protestant notion of diaconia and the Catholic idea of
caritas to the BPC’s social mission and the charitable activities of the
fraternities. Thus, Archpriest Hristo Dimitrov, referring to Western theo-
logical authors and their terminology, defined the ‘inner mission’ of the
Orthodox Church as ‘extraordinary organised cooperation between the
clergy and the laity for the saving work of the Church, inspired by […]
the Christian faith and love of neighbours and directed towards the spir-
itually and physically weak, the threatened and the dying, and expressed
in the most diverse range of missionary, educational, charitable, and social
activities’.36 He discerned three main goals of the mission: pedagogical
(sermons on the Gospel), diaconic or charitable (meeting the material and
spiritual needs of the poor and sick), and social (work with social unions).
Sharing the same understanding, Archpriest Georgy Shavelsky applied the
Western appeal for ‘the Christian and overall revival of the godless folk’ to
the pursuit of ‘the raising of the prestige of BPC’. He further stated: ‘We
have a duty to expand and strengthen the inner mission’.37
The intensification of the discourse on practical Christianity and ‘the
inner mission’ corresponded with the ‘restored position of the BPC as
a custodian of morality’, supported by the state and society.38 In the
1930s, the Bulgarian Synod funded a large social network: religious sum-
mer camps for children and the youth, kindergartens, the provision of
Christmas trees and celebrations for workers’ children, soup kitchens,
boarding schools for poor students, houses for beggars, and other insti-
tutions and activities.39 The Union of Orthodox Fraternities was one of
the most viable and vigorous units in this network. In 1937, the Union
of Orthodox Brotherhoods contained about 5000 men and 25,000
women.40
316 G. Goncharova
So it was not surprising that, in 1935, Chrystiyanka underwent a nota-

ble transformation and was established in a style more befitting a time-
tested and prestigious social organisation. The journal was published
in an upgraded typography and printed colourful and luxurious photos
of pictures by Viktor Vasnetsov and Ivan Kramskoi (along with several
other representatives of Russian religious painting in the Silver Age).
Boris Popstoimenov took over the editorship. Professor Stefan Badzhov,
a prominent muralist, restorer, and teacher at the National Art Academy
became the art editor, which explains the introduction of the sumptuous
illustrations. The journal was published in this way until 1948, when the
communist regime imposed strict control overall social organisations.
The Discursive Defence of the Church’s

Inner Mission
Between 1935 and 1948, Christiyanka continued to provide information
about the initiatives of the Union and retained its profile as a teacher
about everyday family life and a proponent of church charity. There was
one major difference, however. A deep theological reflection on practical
Christianity prevailed over the ecstatic glorification of ‘care for the sick
and the poor’. Articles dedicated to the inner mission of the BPC came
close to dominating the content. The network of Orthodox Christian
fraternities was the culmination of the movement for national and reli-
gious revival, providing the most eloquent evidence for the undeniable
role of the BPC in increasing social morality and prosperity. The present-
able photographs of the Union’s meetings and fraternity gatherings per-
fectly illustrated the religious themes of the articles. They were obviously
designed to attract the attention of a large and cultured audience.
One possible explanation for this slight shift in the journal’s concep-
tual framework was the editorship of Popstoimenov, who had proved
himself as one of the most fervent ideologists and supporters of the
‘expansion of the inner mission’. But it could hardly be a coincidence
that a year before the transformation of Christiyanka, the Law on Public
Assistance (which enforced state control overall social initiatives) was
enacted. The interests of the fraternities were directly encroached, and
they were put into a position of submission and dependence in relation
to the municipalities and the county branches of the ‘Public Support’
(the new state organisation for social assistance). They were also affected
by article 26 of the new legislation, which prohibited the ‘mass gathering
of aid’ (except on Children’s Day and several other dates).
In the first years following the promulgation of the law, church circles
began working on a new conception of charity work. In 1936, delegates
from all parts of the country discussed the impending decline of the
church social welfare system at the Ninth Convention of the Fraternities.
They reported difficulties in collecting membership dues because of the
obstructions created by the ‘Public Support’ in particular and article
26 in general. They drew the conclusion that the new legal provisions
impeded the spontaneous mass acts of generosity which the fraterni-
ties had been provoking for many long years.41 In 1939, Metropolitan
Kiril of Plovdiv, speaking on behalf of the Holy Synod and the clergy,
expressed concerns that the ‘the civil principles of charity, established
by the state’ threatened to undermine the authority of the Church in an
article in Tsarkoven vestnik. He provided a synthesis of the general dis-
cursive representations of the BPC’s contributions to the national social
care system and to the movement of religious revival. Metropolitan
Kiril discovered the origins of the charitable fraternities in the period of
national revival, but also pointed out that the Church developed its social
network in an attempt to counteract ‘a social process of impoverishment’
and to give a practical dimension to Christian brotherly love. From these
premises, he criticised the Law for Public Assistance for taking posses-
sion of social functions that were ‘natural and inherent’ to the Church.
He argued that only by sustaining the Church’s charity network could
national and social solidarity be guaranteed: ‘The state should not be the
only source for all the people and Bulgarian work should not be ripped
out of the activity and heart of society…The work of the Church is ben-
eficial not only materially but also in terms of discipline, in terms of rais-
ing the moral level of society, affirming an atmosphere of mutual aid, and
tightening public and private bonds’.42
Metropolitan Kiril’s article identified the rivalry between the state and
the Church in the field of charitable work in the middle of the 1930s. It
was a part of the mobilisation of the clergy and laity to protect and pre-
serve the real and symbolical capital of the Bulgarian version of practical
Christianity. Thus, in 1940, Metropolitan Paisiy of Vratsa met with the
director of the department of civil mobilisation, part of the Ministry of
War, to discuss a programme for improving the general conditions of the
BPC. This envisaged a complex of ‘social institutions’ (orphanages, nurs-
ing homes, shelter for the homeless, etc.) under the ownership of the
Orthodox fraternities that would attract teachers and intellectuals into
the Church’s welfare system.43
318 G. Goncharova
The change in the conception of Christiyanka was not random but

was rather a purposeful shift to advertise the inner mission of the BPC. It
offered a modern theological vision accessible to both religious and secu-
lar people. So, while the journal was one of the first voices for ‘spiritual
revival’ in the early 1930s, it ended the decade as one of the leading pub-
lic forums for the defence of the Church’s social role and image.
Conclusion
Appearing when there was a crisis in trust for the political and cultural
values of liberalism and when a search for new models of social solidar-
ity had begun, Christiyanka advanced organisational and discursive strat-
egies for strengthening the role of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church in
the social realm. The development of Christiyanka sheds light on the
different stages and agencies in the movement for practical Christianity,
which was inseparable from the charitable networks of the Bulgarian
Orthodox Church. Thus, when under the ownership and editorship of
the White Cross, the journal provided basic instructions for organising
charity work in the parishes and widely popularised the idea of Orthodox
social care, which was rarely known at the time in Bulgaria. Its first
owners and editors, monks and representatives of the high clergy, fol-
lowed a quite ambitious agenda of complete devotion to social issues in
their public lives: this came to an end when the White Cross closed and
the editorial board was replaced. In the second period of its existence,
Christiyanka faced the task of representing the concerns and achieve-
ments of the Union in a period when the authority of the BPS had con-
siderably increased and when the clergy and laity were open to discussing
the secular dimensions of Christian charity. Giving priority to sentimental
stories about the initiatives of the Union and deep theological reflection
on the inner mission of the Church, the journal first helped to create and
then enriched the conceptual framework of practical Christianity. Finally,
under the editorship of Boris Popstoimenov, one of the promoters of the
inner mission, the journal acted as a defender of the Church’s social pol-
icy against the aspirations of the state.
The extent to which the journal was tied to the agenda of the inner
mission can be seen by the fact that in the 1940s, when the Church lost
its battle with the state over the control of charity, its content was nar-
rowed to routine reviews of the Union’s activities and to ordinary articles
on Christian women and family. This continued until 1948.
Christiyanka is a valuable historical source for studying the particu-

lar dynamic of the BPC’s adoption and adaptation of modern (Western)
models of charity work in a Bulgarian context. The analysis of its content
shows that the history of religious renewal in Bulgaria in the interwar
years can be told through a journal for women and the family.
Notes
1. On the history of the White Cross fraternity, see Krasteva (2000),
pp. 275–310.
2. Miloshev (1998), p. 2.
3. Official Motivation of the Draft Law on the Amendment and Supplement
of the Public Holidays and Sunday Rest Act.—Records of Proceedings of
the XX Regular National Assembly, I regular session, III meeting, 31. 10.
1992, 1624.
4. Mircheva (2014), pp. 188–209.
5. Here I provide a few examples of each type of organisation. On the typol-
ogy under discussion, see, for example, Poppetrov (2009).
6. Snegarov (1916), pp. 512–515.
7. The government led by Prime Minister Vasil Radoslavov (1913–1914)
and the governments led by Prime Minister Aleksander Stamboliyski
(1919–1923).
8. Metropolitan of Lovech Gavryil, ‘Osnovni cherty na socialnata deynost na
Bulgarskata pravoslavne carkva predi i sled 9 septemvri (1944)’, http://
www.pravoslavieto.com/docs/socialna_dejnost/soc_dejnost_mitr_gavriil.
htm (11/02/2016).
9. Petar Dunov (1864–1944) was a Bulgarian philosopher and spir-
itual teacher who predicted that ‘a new order would triumph on Earth
by means of the self-cognition and self-improvement of each human
individual’ (see The Origin of the Teaching of the White Brotherhood in
Bulgaria: http://www.beinsadouno.org/bg/node/1970).
10. ‘Bulgarskoto Duhovenstvo’, Naroden Strazh 1, 10, (1919), pp. 1–2.
11. The first one was published in 1903, followed by the editions of 1920,
1926, 1929, and 1934.
12. Paralingov (2016).
13. Stefan (1940), pp. 102 (102–103).
14. ‘Kam chetcite’. (1925). Duhoven podem 1, 1, p. 1.
15. Paisiy (1937), p. 1
16. Stefan Abadzhiev was main editor from the fourth issue of the journal to
the third issue of the seventh volume (1929).
17. Neofit (1923), pp. 4 (3–4).
320 G. Goncharova
18. ‘Ot Ustava na stavropigalnoto zhensko monashesko bratstvo “Byal

Krust”’, Christiyanka 1, 5-6-7, 52.
19. Ustav na sveshtenicheskite bratstva v eparhiite v Knajestvoto (1903).
20. Ustav na Sayuza na sveshtenicheskite bratstva v Tsatrstvo Bulgaria (1920).
21. Ustav na Pravoslavnite zheni v Bulgaeia (1933).
22. Radoilsky (1926), pp. 56–57.
23. Bobchev (1926), p. 83.
24. Abadzhiev, Christiyanka, 1, 2–3, 3–5.
25. Christiyanka (1923), p. 37.
27. Christiyanka (1924), pp. 3–4.
29. On the rise and decline of the White Cross, see Krasteva (2000),
pp. 275–310.
30. The new editors were the priests S. Tcvetko and Ivan pp. Shivachev, and
Hieromonach Pimen, the secretary of the Stara Zagora eparchy.
34. Christiyanka (1933), pp. 214–216.
35. Popstoimenov (1933), pp. 204–205.
36. Dimitrov (1933), pp. 408–409.
37. Shavelsky(1940), pp. 102, 345–347.
38. Kalkandjieva (2010), pp. 93.
39. Ibid., pp. 92; Tsankov (1936), p. 338.
40. Ibid., pp. 93, 271–278.
41. Christiyanka (1936), pp. 332–333.
42. Tsarkoven Vestnik (1939), pp. 512–515.
43. Eldurov (1999), pp. 250–258.
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Index
A Amfilohije (Radović), Bishop/

Adevărul Creştin (The Christian Metropolitan of Montenegro, 184
Truth), journal, 236 Anathema, 26–28, 34–36, 42, 124
Adventist Church, 156, 178, 210 Andrei, (Ukhtomskii’s), Bishop, 38
Adventists, 14, 77, 118, 125, 148, Andrej, (Frušić), Bishop, 159
150, 153, 155, 156, 160, 177, Angold, Michael, 18
178, 185, 210 Anthropology of Religion, 13
Afanasiev, Nikolay, Russian theologian, Anticommunism, 158, 295–297
184 Antioch, 2
Agadjanian, Alexander, 18 Anti-Semitism, 6, 158
Aggiornamento, 1 Antonescu regime in Romania, 263
Akhalkalak district in Tiflis province, Antonii, (Khrapovitskii) of Volyna,
57, 58 Archbishop, 38, 42
Aktines, journal, 293, 295 Apostasy, 14, 32, 47, 161
Aleksinac, 141 Apostles Peter and Paul, 57
Aleksov, Bojan, 16, 19, 105, 126, 162, Apostolos, Makrakis, 287
166, 167, 215, 219, 220, 225, Arad, 261, 263, 266, 268, 272
226 Aranđelovac, 141
Alexander II, Tsar, 24, 28, 29, 36, 37 Aranicki, 111, 116, 117, 119, 120,
Alexandria, 2 127, 129, 130, 144
Alibunar, 270, 274, 278, 279, 283 Archbishopric of Belgrade-Karlovac,
All-Bulgarian Union of Father Paysiy, 157
306 Arkhangel’sk province, 51, 54, 56
All-Russian Baptist Union, 79 Armenian Church, 2
America, 8, 19, 62, 108, 127, 208 Artemije (Radosavljević), Bishop, 182,
American Congregationalists, 8 184
© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017 323

Studies, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-63354-1_15
324 Index
Asia Minor, 291 Bečkerek, 106, 128, 153, 178, 180, 272
Ašković, Dragan, 16, 187, 204–206, Bela Crkva, 263, 274
208–210, 218, 225 Belaia Tserkva, 93
Association for Culture of the Belgrade, 106, 111, 113, 131, 140,
Romanian People in the Yugoslav 141, 144, 148, 153, 157, 159,
Banat, 262 166, 176–178, 180, 182, 183,
Association of Romanian Choirs and 206, 208, 222, 226, 264
Fanfares, 270 Belorussia, 6
Association of the Romanian Bessarabia, 78, 80, 95
Orthodox Clergy from Vojvodina, Bible, 2, 7, 63, 78, 82, 83, 87, 98,
264 115, 118, 122, 139, 177, 178,
Assyrian Church, 2 194, 196, 231, 233–238, 242–
Atanasije (Jevtić), Bishop, 142, 184 244, 248–251, 254–256, 293
Atheism, 115, 156, 184, 214, 216 Bible society, 118, 177, 235
Athens, 184, 288, 293, 297 Bihor, 252
Austro-Hungarian Empire, 124, 138 Binns, J., 18
Autocephalous churches, 11 Biriukov, P.I., 49, 59, 64, 85, 98
Biserica Ortodoxă Română (The
Romanian Orthodox Church),
B journal, 278
Bačka, 3, 122, 130, 131, 153, 180, Bishopric of Dacia Felix, 265
181, 219 Bishoprics of Banja Luka, 159
Badzhov, Stefan, 316 Blacking, John, 201
Băiaş, Ion, 271 Blagojević, Ivan, 142
Bălan, Nicolae, 238, 266, 275 Blagojević, Mirko, 213, 225, 226
Balkan, 2–4, 6, 23, 124, 137, 138, Blagoveštenje, monastery, 217
141, 216, 220 Bodianskii, A.M., 52, 62
Baltic regions, 7 Bogomoljac, journal, 144
Banat, 3, 5, 7, 8, 15, 17, 106, 107, Bogoslovski glasnik (Theological
114, 115, 121, 122, 127, 138, Herald), journal, 129, 181
139, 153, 157, 160, 177–180, Bogovađa, monastery, 151
185, 219, 221, 261–281, 283 Boiarskii, Aleksandr, 71
Banatsko Novo Selo, village, 263 Bolshevism, 156
Baptism, 48, 93, 107, 112 Bonnekemper, Johann, 78, 95
Baptist Church, 77 Bosanska Krajina, 177
Baptists, 7, 8, 60, 77, 78, 83–85, 94, Bosnia, 4, 7, 9, 125, 139, 152, 153,
98, 100, 107, 177, 178, 232 158, 159, 180, 206, 223
Barice, village, 271, 279 Bota, Corneliu, 279
Bashkichet in Tiflis province, 52–54 Bota, Dj., priest, 138, 162
Bavanište, village, 114, 269 Bozoljac, Milan, 145, 154, 157, 217
Beauduin, Dom Lambert, 176 Braničevo, 157, 159
Index 325
Bremer, Thomas, 16, 18, 131, 140, Catholicism, 1, 12, 30, 31, 94, 110,
157, 162, 164, 167, 215, 220, 123
225, 226 Caucasus, 3, 51, 52, 54, 55, 59, 61,
Brethren denomination, 237 62, 90
British Bible Society, 235 Ceauşescu, Nicolae, 265, 280
Brotherhood of Partisans of Ćelije, monastery, 182, 206
Ecclesiastic Renewal, 68, 69 Central Powers, 305
The Brotherhood of Theologians Zoe, Certege, Turda district, 237
15, 285 Cetinje, 149
Brothers of Zoe, 291 Chekmariov, Stepan, 86
Bucharest, 233, 253, 265, 267 Chernigov province, 28
Budapest, 105 Chertkov, V.D., 49, 60–62, 64
Bulgakov, Sergei, Russian theologian, Chilandar, monastery, 154
philosopher and economist, 184 Chilom, Drăgan, 280
Bulgaria, 4, 8, 15, 16, 156, 158, 305, Christian Brotherhood of Struggle and
308, 310, 312, 318–320 advocates of Christian socialism,
Bulgarian Boy Scout Union, 306 68
Bulgarian movement for practical Christian Community and Missionary,
Christianity, 304 journal, 218
Bulgarian National Union Kubrat, The Christian Community of
Bulgarska Rodna Zashtita Universal Brotherhood, 63
[Bulgarian Native Defence], 306 Christian Community of Young
Bulgarian Orthodox Church, 15, 303, People, 153
304, 307, 315, 318 The Christian Education Pan-Hellenic
Bulgarian Sport Federation, 306 Union of Parents, 292
Bulgarian Temperance Federation, 306 Christianisation, 63
Buracu, Coriolan, 266 Christian moral values, 194
Byzantine Empire, 4 Christian socialism, 69, 70
Byzantine era, 296 Christian-Socialist Labour Party, 71
The Christian Union of Educators,
293
C Christian Union of Scientists, 292,
Calvinist idea, 113 296
Canada, 62, 163 The Christian Union of Working
Cannell, Fenella, 18 Youth, 293
Capitalism, 2, 4, 68, 48 Christiyanka, journal, 304, 305,
Caransebeş, 261, 263–268, 274, 309–316, 318–320
276–279, 281 Church hymns, 121, 197
Cârdu, Lazar, priest, 270 Church Slavonic language, 183, 196
Catherine the Great, Russian monarch, Church Slavonic prayers, 174
7, 24, 26, 34 Clark, Elmer, 14
326 Index
Clergy, 2, 16, 24, 27, 32, 68, 70–74, Ćuković, Vaso, 148
Čurug, village, 130, 220, 221

85, 106–115, 117, 120, 121, Cure, Corneliu, 270, 274
123, 125, 126, 140, 141, 145,
147, 149, 159, 174, 178, 197, Cuvioasa Paraschiva (Holy Mother
202, 208, 214, 216, 222, 262– Paraskeva), 276
264, 268–271, 275, 277, 279, Cyrillic alphabet, 5
304, 307–310, 315, 317, 318
Clergymen, 68
Cluj-Napoca, 237 D
Cominform, 264 Dacia Felix bishopric, 281
Commission on Ecclesiastic and Damaskin (Grdanički), Metropolitan
Confessional Issues of the Union of Zagreb, 131, 183, 187
of 17 October, 68 Danube, 3, 8, 177
Commission on Religious Affairs of The decree of the Soviet of People’s
the PR Bosnia and Herzegovina, Commissars ‘On Separation of the
159 Church from the State and the
Communism, 13, 99, 156, 252, 280, School from the Church, 72
307 Đekić, Mirjana, 220, 226
Communist Party, 73, 264, 295 Deliblato, village, 273
Communist Party of Greece (KKE), Denver (Colorado, USA), 148
295 Detroit (Michigan, USA), 153
Congregationalists, 277, 278 Dimitrije (Pavlović), Metropolitan/
Consistorium of the Srem diocese, 106 Patriarch of the Serbian Orthodox
Constantinople, 2–4, 36 Church, 140, 142, 144–146, 151,
The cooperating Christian Societies of 179, 217
St Paul, 291 Dimitrijević, Gavrilo, 180
Coptic Church, 2 Dimitrijević, Stevan, 138, 153
Corfu, 142, 162 Dimitrijević, Vladimir, 117, 120, 122,
Cornilescu, Dumitru, 17, 232–236, 127, 149
250, 251, 254, 256 Dimitrov, Hristo, Archpriest, 158,
Council of Serbian Schools in Austria- 315, 320
Hungary, 114 Diocesan authorities, 149, 267, 281
Covenant of Orthodox Christians, 145 Dioceses of Žiča, 157
Crepaja, village, 106, 107, 109, 269 Dionisije, (Dragoljub Milivojević),
Crimean War 1853–1856, 3 Bishop, 124, 138, 151, 156,
Crkvari, type of religious behavior 163–166, 179
which primary task is the excava- Districts of Jajce, 159
tion of foundations of churches, Dogma, 30, 32, 34, 60, 63, 125, 149,
based on orders received in 155, 217, 288, 289, 297
dreams, 138 Dolovo, village, 115, 268–270, 273,
Croatia, 7, 110, 112, 130, 256 278
Croatians, 201 Donauschwaben, 7
Index 327
Donji Vakuf (B&H), 159 England, 59, 60, 64, 163, 208
Dorz, Traian, 17, 232, 239, 245, Episcopate, 24, 30–33, 68, 70, 106,
252–255, 257, 258 146, 151
Dostoevsky, Fedor, Russian writer, 67, Estonian Lutherans, 6
196 Ethiopians, 2
Doukhobor propaganda, 60 Ethnicisation, 219
Doukhobor Psalms, 55 Ethnikofrosyni (national mindedness
Drača, monastery, 152, 180 or loyalty to the nation), 296, 299
Dreval, Feoktist, 80 European Enlightenment, 287
Dreval, Vasilii, 80 Evangelisation, 63, 247
Drozhzhin, E.N., 52 Evangelism, 243, 247, 248
Dučić, Jovan, Serbian poet and diplo- Exarchate, 307
mat, 192, 208
Duhovni život (Spiritual Life), jour-
nal, 154, 166 F
Dukhobortsy, 14, 16 Fa, István, Calvinist priest, 109
Dunov, Petar, 307, 319 February revolution, 70
Đurđević, Ratibor, 158 Federal Commission for Religious
Dushenkovskii, Venedikt, 83, 84, 97 Affairs, 159
Đusić, Mihailo, 179 Fenek, monastery, 154
Filaret (Drozdov), Metropolitan, 28,
40
E First Balkan War, 124
Easter, 57, 180, 181, 183, 241 First World War, 17, 124, 130, 131,
Easter gospel, 181 138, 141, 152, 160, 179, 185,
Eastern Christianity, 13 214, 216, 219, 224, 261
Eastern Europe, 7, 11–13, 16–18 Fitzgerald, T.E., 18
Eastern Orthodox Churches, 9, 12 France, 2, 3
Eastern Orthodox world, 13 Franklin, Benjamin, American politi-
Ecclesiology, 30, 32–34, 39, 220 cian, scientist and writer, 118
Ečka, village, 263, 267, 272, 273, 279 Freemasonry, 156, 158
Ecumenical council (sobor), 1, 30 French Revolution, 4
Edinoverie, 25, 27–29, 34–40, 42 Fröhlich, Samuel Heinrich, founder
Edinovertsy, 27, 29, 34, 36–38 of the Evangelical Baptists
Efsevios (Matthopoulos), (Nazarenes), 105
Archimandrite, 17, 285, 288 Fruška Gora, 221
Egorov, Ioann, Archpriest, 71 Funeral hymns, 185
Egypt, 3, 89
Ekaterinburg, 36
Ekaterinoslav, 78, 96, 100 G
Elemir, village, 106 Gačić, Tihomir, 144, 145
Elizavetpol province, 57 Gavrilo, (Zmejanović), Bishop, 183
328 Index
Georgije, (Branković), Patriarch of Greek-Orthodox civilisation, 296

Karlovci, 113 Greek rites, 25
Georgije, (Letić), Bishop of Temišvar, Grigorii (Postnikov), Metropolitan of
183 St. Petersburg, 28, 40
German, (Anđelić), Serbian Patriarch, Grivei, Aurel, 275
110 Guéranger, Dom Prosper, 176
German Baptists, 78 Gumeniuk, Feodosii, 80
German colony of Rikenau, 78 Gusle, musical instrument from
German colony of Rohrbach, 78 Southeastern Europe, 192, 195
Germans, 7, 78, 119, 208
Ghencea (Bucharest), 253
Gherla, 253 H
Glasnik, journal, 146, 163, 182 Habsburg Empire, 2, 3, 105
Glogonj, village, 273 Hamburg, 7
God Worshipper assemblies, 146, 180 Hann, Chris, 13, 18
God Worshipper hymns, 191–194, Heelas, Paul, 18
196, 200, 202–204 Hellenic-Christian Education, journal,
God Worshipper movement, 14–16, 293
121, 137, 138, 140, 141, Heresy, 9, 106, 107, 142, 154, 156,
148, 149, 151–161, 179, 183, 166, 252
185, 186, 192, 199, 201–203, Heretics, 26, 154, 156
213–216, 218–221, 224, 225 Herzegovina, 153, 159, 206
bogomoljci, 106, 121–126, Holy Land, 139
130–132, 138, 163, 191 Holy Scripture, 81, 87, 92, 97, 122,
Goreloe, village, 51 130, 141, 144, 145, 150, 160,
Gospel hymns, 152 177–179, 217, 272
Gospels, 48, 56, 83, 87, 108, 111, Holy Synod, 6, 23, 31, 80, 96, 107,
123, 139, 145, 159, 161, 191, 149, 156, 161, 166, 266, 267,
197, 232, 236 275, 287, 288, 290, 297, 303,
Governor Shervashidze, 57, 59 304, 308, 312, 315, 317
Gračanica, monastery, 220 Holy Trinity, 60, 152, 180
Grbanović, Luka, 106, 127 Hrišćanska zajednica, journal, 132,
Great Britain, 215 147, 149, 151, 153, 155, 164
Great Moscow Council of 1667, 25, 33 Hrizostom, (Vojinović) Bishop, 157,
Grebenac, village, 274, 279, 280, 281 159, 161–167
Greece, 2, 15, 16, 128, 184, 285–287, Hungary, 3, 16, 18, 19, 105, 107,
289, 291–293, 295–297, 299, 110, 112–116, 119, 125, 130,
300, 305 140, 177, 220, 265
Greek Catholic Church, 262
Greek civil war (1946–1949), 289,
296, 299 I
Greek Light (Ellinikon Fos), journal, Iasevich-Borodaevskaia, 87, 94, 98, 99
296 Ieronymos, Archbishop, 184
Index 329
Ilarion, (Ruvarac), Archimandrit, 106 Jovanović, Milica, 148

Inđija, 118 Jovan, (Rapajić), monk, 156, 179
Individualism, 30, 48 Jovan, (Velimirović), Bishop, 159
Industrial Revolution, 3, 48 Judaism, 156
Intelligentsia, 49, 50, 54, 68, 69, 74, Juraj Dalmatin, Slovene Lutheran min-
109, 112, 123, 144, 184, 308, ister, writer and translator, 177
311 Justin, (Popović), Hierodeacon (later
Ioann of Kronstadt, 121 Archimandrite), 179, 182
Iosif Traian (Badescu) of Caransebeş,
Bishop, 263, 267, 274
Irinej, (Bulović), Bishop, 184 K
Irinej, (Ćirić), Bishop, 181 Kalinovskii, Sergii, priest, 71, 72
Irkutsk, 28 Kallistos (Timothy Ware), Bishop, 255
Iustinian, (Marina), Patriarch of the Kalmykova, Luker’ia, 51
Romanian Orthodox Church, 278 Karadžić, Vuk, Serbian philologist, lin-
Ivanjica, 151 guist and reformer of the Serbian
Iziumchenko, N.T., 52 language, 5, 194
Karlovci metropolitanates, 106
Kars district, 57
J Kazan, 42, 86, 91–93, 97, 98
Jablanka, village, 279, 281 Kebabcha, village, 80
Jagodina, 145, 150 Khar’kov province, 51
Jakov, (Arsović), monk, 179 Kherson, 49, 78, 80–82, 91, 95
Jakšić, Milutin, 120, 130 Kherson province, 49, 80–82, 91, 96
Janja (Jajce district), village, 159, 223 Khilkov, D. A., Prince, 49
Jankov Most, 263 Khomiakov, Aleksei, Russian theolo-
Jehovah’s Witnesses, 14 gian and philosepher, 30
Jenkins, P., 18 Kiev, 37, 78, 79, 81, 85, 86, 88–94,
Jerotić, Vladeta, 216 96
Jerusalem, 221 Kikinda, 153, 178
Jesuitism, 33 Kingdom of Serbia, 105, 214
Jesus, 25, 48, 53, 57, 59, 81, 85, 87, Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and
89, 93, 99, 145, 185, 199, 200, Slovenes, 12, 214, 262
232, 236–245, 247–251, 254, Kingdom of Yugoslavia, 8, 17, 156,
255, 273 261, 262, 274
Jews, 6, 93 Kiril of Plovdiv, Metropolitan, 317
Jordan, river, 139 Kodymka Malaia, village, 80
Jošanica, monastery, 150 Kolitsaras, Ioannis, 292
Josif, (Cvijović), Metropolitan, 150 Kondrat, Maliovannyi, 79, 81, 82,
Jovanović, Đoka, 110 84–87, 89–94
Jovanović, Jovan Zmaj, Serbian physi- Konkin, Ivan, 54
cian and poet, 178 Korff, M., Baron, 78
330 Index
Kostić, Laza, Serbian poet, 115 Lokve, village, 267, 273, 279, 281
Koval, Iakov, 81 The Lord’s Army, 240
Kovilje, monastery, 217, 219 Lossky, V., 18
Kragujevac, 124, 132, 138, 146–148, Loznica, 218
150–153, 158, 159, 164, 177, Lumina satelor, journal, 239–241
179, 218 Lutheran community in Rohrbach, 78
Kramskoi, Ivan, 316 L’vov, Nikolai, 70
Krasnitskii, Vladimir, priest, 73 Lysenko, Ivan, 90–92, 99
Krawchuk, Andrii, 16, 18
Krnjevo, 146
Krstić, Zoran, 214, 222 M
Kruševac, 153, 226 Macedonia, 153, 200
Kujundžić, Milan, 176 Mačva, 138, 141, 143, 217
Kumane, 106, 178 Magdu, Valeriu, priest, 272
Kurilo, monastery, 304 Magyarisation, 119, 126
Kuštilj, village, 272, 274, 279, 281 Makarii (Bulgakov), Metropolitan, 30
Kuzmanović, Bogdan, 174 Maletin, Vitomir, 121
Kuznetsov, N.D., 71 Maliovannaya, Efrosinia, 81
Maliovannyi, religious movement, 16
Maliovantsy, 14, 79, 81, 86–94
L Mali Žam, village, 279, 281
Language policies, 16, 175 Malo Središte, village, 277, 278, 280
Lapovo, 141 Malušev, Jovan, 107
Last Judgment, 86–89, 92 Manchuria, 62
Latinism, 33 Mandrović, Đorđe, priest, 115
Latvian Lutherans, 6 Marcus, Bach, 14
Lay movement, 215 Marian apparitions, 110
Leonov, M.L. (the folk writer Maksim Marian cult, 110
Goremyka), 54 Marina, Ioan, priest, 271
Leustean, Lucian, 16 Marinković, M. Živan, priest, 130,
Liberalism, 141, 156, 179, 318 138, 182
Library of the National Christian Marxist ideology, 292
Community, 148 Marx, Karl, 3
The Light of the Villages, journal, 249 Materialism, 141
Liturgical hymns, 192, 196, 202 Melopoetic experimentation, 16
Liturgical language, 173–175 Mennonite, 7, 61, 77, 78, 94, 97
Liturgy, 5, 31, 35, 115, 116, 176, Methodists, 155
177, 181, 197, 217, 225, 234, Metropolitanate in Timişoara, 264
236, 243, 255, 271–274, 277, Metropolitanate of Karlovci, 138
280, 281 Mićić, Boginja, 145
Ljotić, Dimitrije, Serbian right-wing Miclău, Vasile, priest, 280
politician, 158, 207, 208 Middle Ages, 4
Index 331
Mihailo (Jovanović), Metropolitan of N

Serbia, 176 Naia, Ioan, priest, 271
Mikhail (Semionov), Archimandrite, 69 Napoleon, 3
Miletić, Dragi, 180 National Christian Community, 145
Miletić, Svetozar, political leader of National consciousness, 2, 108, 119,
Serbs in Vojvodina, 175 175, 194–196, 271
Millet system, 6 Nationalism, 2, 4–6, 24, 39, 124, 126,
Milošević, Gavra, priest, 150 214
Milovskaia church, 29 Nationality (narodnost), 33
Ministry of Internal Affairs, 59, 276 Nativity of the Theotokos, 272
Mircheva, Gergana, 306 Nazarene hymnals, 155
Mirković, Lazar, 182 Nazarenes, 16, 106–111, 113–118,
Misionar, journal, 156, 163, 164 120–126, 139–142, 148, 153,
Missionaries or ‘popular preachers’, 155, 160, 177, 178, 185, 215,
151 216, 224, 270
Missionary Sisterhood of Christian Nemanjić dynasty, Serbian dynasty
Women, 293 from the Midlle Ages, 147
Miter, Ioan, 270–272, 275 Neofit of Vidin, Metropolitan, 309
Mitrofan, Bishop, 151 Neo-Protestant communities, 18
Modernisation, 24 Neo-Protestantism, 232
Modernism, 179, 298 Neostundists, 51
Modernity, 8, 11, 17, 64, 112, 126, Netherlands, 2
141, 161, 286 The New Harp of Zion, 155
Moisei, Todosienko, 92 New Testament, 63, 83, 85, 91, 93,
Mokrin, village, 178 141, 144, 155, 159, 194, 238,
Molokans, 50, 51, 90, 99 242, 292
Monasticism, 125, 132, 179, 219, New York, 19, 148
224, 288, 303 Nežider (Nezsider), camp, 142
Montenegrins, 195 Nice, Fracile, 201
Montenegro, 195 Nicene Creed, 142
Moscow, 23, 25, 26, 33, 34, 36, 37, Nicholas I (1825–55), Emperor of
56, 58, 71–74, 181 Russia, 27, 28
Mount Athos, 131, 154, 166, 182 Nicholas II, Emperor of Russia, 58
Mramorak, village, 267, 273, 274, 278 Nicolae (Bălan) of Ardeal,
Mudrik, Mitrofan, 89, 90 Metropolitan, 266
Mukhin, (Rybkin) Dimitrii, 81 Nicolae (Corneanu), Metropolitan of
Murgu, Ioan, Protopresbyter, 275 Romanian Orthodox Church, 280
Murzaku, Ines, 16, 18 Nikodim (Lebedev), 28
Museum of the History of Religion, Nikolaj, (Velimirović), Bishop of
49, 63 Serbian Orthodox Church, 17,
Muslims, 8, 55, 200, 201, 220 123, 138, 141, 145, 149, 179,
Mysticism, 48, 124, 140, 147, 153 183, 196, 216, 217, 220, 224
332 Index
Nikolinci, village, 273, 278, 279, 281 Orthodox Christian Renewal

Nikol’skaia parish in St Petersburg, 28 Movements, 13, 16
Nikon, (Minin), Patriarch of the Orthodox Church of Greece, 289
Russian Orthodox Church, 25 Orthodox Faith, 49, 107, 119, 140,
Niš, 153, 157 142, 145, 146, 150, 155, 165,
Niva, journal, 62 180, 273, 310
Njegoš, Petrović Petar, Prince-Bishop Orthodox parishes, 35, 38, 263–265,
of Montenegro, poet, 195, 196 268, 276
Northern Dubruja, 305 Orthodox Theological Faculty in
Novaković, Stojan, Serbian historian Czernowitz in Bukovina, 116
and politician, 180 Orthodox Theological Institute in
Novi Sad, 153, 180, 181, 183 Sibiu, 237
Novo Miloševo, village, 178 Orthodox Theological Seminary in
Novo-Vasilievka, 79 Bucharest, 233
Orthodox tradition, 113, 116, 235,
289, 304
O Orthodoxy, 1, 2, 5, 6, 9, 13–17, 24,
Oastea Domnului, 265–269, 272–280 25, 27, 30, 32, 35, 38, 47, 49,
Obdorsk, 51 51, 68–70, 74, 120, 121, 123,
Obradović, Dositej, Serbian educator 124, 139, 145, 149, 152, 155,
and reformer, 118 156, 161, 237, 270, 276, 280,
Obrenovac, 141, 177 286, 287, 289, 290
October Revolution, 74 Otto, King of Greece, 287
Odessa, 82, 96, 97 Ottoman Empire, 3, 6
Old Belief, a semi-legal set of schis- Ottoman rule, 3, 5, 306
matic movements, 23, 24, 26–28,
32, 34
Old calendar, 144 P
Old Church Slavonic, 175 Padej, village, 121
Old Testament, 83, 155, 238 Paisiy of Vratsa, Metropolitan, 317
Olfactory hallucinations, 89 Panagiotopoulos, Christophoros,
Oncken, Gerhard Johann, Baptist Papoulakos, 287
Preacher, 7 Pančevo, 106, 109, 174, 263, 268,
Oradea, 253 275, 276, 279
Orlovat, village, 180 Panić, Ljubomir, Archpriest, 106
Orthodox canons, 68 Pankhurst, J., 18
Orthodox Christian Brotherhood, Papakostas, Seraphim, 293, 296, 299
145, 152 Parents’ Union for Education, 306
Orthodox Christian communities in Parishioners, 23, 24, 27, 29, 31, 68,
Bulgaria, 158 114, 117, 118, 276, 277
Index 333
Parry, Ken, 18 Politbureau, 73

Pashkovism, 14, 48, 63 Polonism, 33
Pashkov, V., Colonel, 78, 83, 95 Polyphonic religious songs, 272
Patriarch, 4, 25, 30, 73, 106, 110, Pomoravlje, 143, 217
113, 151, 217, 265, 278 Popadić, Milan, 111, 128
Pavel of Stara Zagora, Metropolitan of Popescu, Dumitru, 17, 232
Bulgarian Orthodox Church, 312 Popović, Atanasije, Major, 142
Pavle, (Stojčević), Bishop/Patriarch of Popovici, Victor, Protoresbyter, 279
Serbian Orthodox Church, 184 Popstoimenov, Boris, 314, 316, 318
Pavlovki, village, 51 Požarevac, 144, 153, 159, 195
Peičić, Konstantin, 174 Practical believers, 215
Peloponnese peninsula, 287 Practical Christianity, 304, 305, 308,
Pentecostals, 77, 232 314–318
People (narod), 33 Prayer meetings, 157
Perin, Valeriu Filaret, priest, 276 Pre-Conciliar Assembly, 69
Perm, 28 Predejane, village, 144
Petar, Todor, 178 Prelates, 29, 35, 36, 263
Peter the Great, Tsar, 24, 26 Pre-Nikonian rituals, 26, 27, 33
Petronije (Trbojević), Archimandrite, Priesthood, 26, 233, 251, 266
180 Princess Calimachi, (Elena Ghika),
Petro-ostrov, 91 wife of Alexandru Callimachi
Petrov, Georgii, 69 Prince of Moldavia, 236
Pietism, 125, 139, 161 Principality of Serbia, 18
Pietists, 78, 155 Procurator of the Synod, 32, 37, 71
Pietists from Württemberg, 78 Proselytism, 8, 110, 114, 294
Piety, 5, 24, 25, 33–35, 39, 47, 110, Protestant Christianity, 18, 121
121, 123, 125, 161, 179, 180, Protestant communities, 160, 175–
194–196, 202, 243 177, 184, 186
Pilgrimages, 110, 123, 153, 158, Protestant evangelical movements, 2,
218–221, 225, 277, 278, 280 289
Pirot, 141, 153, 158 Protestantism, 1, 30, 177, 231, 243
Platon (Levshin), Metropolitan of Protopresbyterate of Banat Comloş,
Moscow, 26, 34, 37 263
Pobedonostsev, Petrovich Konstantin, Province of Chernigov, 28, 78
Russian civil servant, philosopher, Province of Ekaterinoslav, 78, 96, 100
and adviser of Alexander III and Province of Kharkov, 78, 96
Nicholas II, 6, 37, 68 Province of Podolia, 78
Pobožni (Pious) group, 121 Province of Poltava, 78
Poland, 156 Province of Tavrida, 51, 55, 64, 78,
Policijski glasnik (Police Gazette), 79, 95
journal, 140 Province of Volynia, 78, 96
Polish uprising of 1863, 175 Provisional Government, 70, 71
334 Index
Prusskii, Pavel, abbot, 37 Ritual, 26, 28, 32–34, 39, 48, 87,
Psalms, 52, 55, 56, 83, 178, 197, 238, 161, 192, 197, 220
248, 253 Ritualisation, 220
Pupin, Mihailo, American physicist and Rogerenes from Connecticut, 93
ohysical chemist originatig from Rogić, Josip, 274
Serbia, 108, 148, 179, 207 Roman alphabet, 5
Purleigh, 60 Roman Catholic Church, 31, 175,
176, 184, 186
Romania, 8, 15, 17, 153, 231, 237,
Q 252, 253, 255, 262–265, 267,
Quakerism, 81, 97 274, 275, 279, 280, 305
Quakers, 61, 62, 84, 87, 93, 94, 97 Romanian Christianity, 232, 254
Quietism, 140 Romanian communist authorities, 278
Romanian Evangelical churches, 254
Romanian Evangelical Society, 235
R Romanian national identity, 277
Radical Reformation, 92–94 Romanian national minority, 262, 265,
Radić, Radmila, 16, 214, 215, 217 269, 270
Radojević, Milosav, 145 Romanian Orthodox Christians, 17
Radovan, Tadić, 141 Romanian Orthodox Church, 231,
Rakovica, monastery, 151 232, 242, 243, 250, 251, 255,
Ranters of the English Revolution, 93 256, 261–267, 271, 273, 275,
Rasputin, G., monk, 70 276, 278, 281, 281
Rasputinshchina, 70 Romanian Orthodox Metropolitanate
Rationalism, 2, 4, 48, 63, 115 of Transylvania, 261
Ravanica, monastery, 221 Romanian Orthodox Vicariate in the
Reformation, 92, 95, 120, 161, 232, Yugoslav Banat, 264, 279
247, 287 Romanians, 7, 116, 177, 261–264,
Religion Combined with Life, church 266, 269–271, 273, 277, 280,
group, 71 281
Renewal, 9, 25, 39, 49, 68, 72, Romanov, Mikhailovich Aleksei, Tsar,
74, 146, 161, 179, 184, 185, 25
202, 215, 231, 235, 237, 239, Rome, 2
241–243, 246, 248, 250, 253, Roudometof, V., 15
255, 319 Rudchuk, Dementii and Agafia, 89
Renovationism (obnovlentshestvo), 14 Rusko Selo, village, 263
Renovationists, 17, 69, 70 Russia, 2, 3, 6, 14, 17, 24, 31, 32, 35,
Renovation movement, 67, 69 37, 39, 47, 48, 51, 52, 59, 62,
Revitalisation of religiosity, 221 63, 68, 73, 77, 78, 94, 108, 120,
Revolution of 1848, 110, 185 156, 175, 176, 184, 213
Rila, monastery, 312 Russian Empire, 7, 12, 36, 77, 79, 95
Ritiševo, village, 267 Russian Khlysty and Shalaputs, 93
Index 335
Russian Orthodox Church, 23, 24, 31, Serbian Orthodox Church, 14, 16,
33, 38, 67, 73–75, 126, 156, 184 113, 137, 141, 157, 161, 163,
Russian Orthodoxy, 14, 17, 24, 25, 173, 175, 178, 185, 213, 262
27, 32, 38, 74, 79, 94 Serbian peasant paternalism, 158
Russian patriarchate, 32 Serbian Radical Party in Hungary,
Russian Radical Reformation, 81, 94 113, 119, 128
Russophilia, 175 Serbs, 105, 108, 110, 112, 114,
Russo-Turkish War, 1877–1878, 55 116–119, 121, 124, 126, 140,
153, 156, 175, 177, 191, 192,
195, 201, 214, 215, 262, 269
S Seventh Day Adventists, 14
Šabac, 157, 159, 180, 218 Shalaput (radical Khlyst), 79
Sabornici, journal, 145 Shavelski, Georgy, Archpriest, 315
Salonika front, 141, 216 Shenkursk in Arkhangel’sk province,
Salvation, 246 51, 54
Samuil, (Maširević), Bishop of Buda, Shleev, Simeon, 38
Patriarch of the Serb, 175 Siberia, 56, 59, 90
Saračević, Jovan, 158, 180 Sibiu, 237–239, 253, 263, 275
Sarajevo, 223 Sikorskii, Ivan, 86, 98
Saratov, 28 Simeon, (Stanković), Bishop of Šabac,
Sarča (today Sutjeska near Zrenjanin), 157
village, 263, 267, 281 Sin, 53, 55, 61, 81–83, 88, 93, 94,
Satanism, 156 108, 118, 122, 139, 150, 153,
Sava, river, 3 233, 234, 236, 239, 242, 246,
Schmemann, Alexander, 184 247
Schwalm, Georg, Lutheran priest, 109 Šišatovac, monastery, 180, 221
Second Vatican Council, 184 Sisters of Efseveia, 291
Second World War, 14, 18, 146, 195, Skibino, vilage, 83
202, 214, 218, 263, 277, 278, Slavonia, 7, 177, 180
293 Slavophile, 24, 30, 32, 138
Sectarianism, 122, 124, 140, 156, Slijepčević, Đoko, Serbian theolog and
166, 217 historian, 121, 162, 178, 186,
Secularity, 2, 318 216, 225
Secular sovereigns (gosudaria), 31 Slovaks, 119
Seleuš, village, 277–279 Slovenia, 177
Semberija, 143 Smederevo, 153, 154
Serbian Empire of Stefan Dušan, 4 Smiljanić, Mihailo, 215, 218
Serbian folk music tradition, 196 Snegarov, Ivan, Bulgarian academician,
Serbian Liberal Party, 113 church historian and archivist,
Serbian Metropolitanate, 107, 108 307
336 Index
Sobornost, 30–33, 69 Stefan (Abadzhiev), Archimandrite,

Socialism, 2, 160, 179 304, 309, 312
Societatea Sfântul Gheorghe (the Stefan, Metropolitan of Sofia, Exarch
Society of St George), 276 of Bulgarian Orthodox Church,
Society for the Admirers of Spiritual 140
Enlightenment in St Petersburg, Stepanović Stepa, Duke, Serbian mil-
36 litary commander, 143
Society for Translating, Printing, and The St Eunice Christian Union, 293
Propagating Adventist Literature Stig, 143
in Veliki Bečkerek, 178 St John Chrysostom, 245
Sociologist of religion, 215 St John of Damascus, 185
Sofia, 314 Stoenescu, Daniil, 265
Sokobanja, 141 St Petersburg, 7, 23, 28, 29, 36, 78
Soloviov, Vladimir, Russian philoso- Straža, village, 269, 270–273, 275,
pher and theologian, 67 279, 281
Sombor, 153 Strel’bitskii, Ioann, 81
Şoşdeanu, Iova, 273 Streza, Laurenţiu, 265
Sosin, Dimitrii, 80 St Roman, monastery, 151
Soter, 184, 186, 297 The Student Christian Union, 293
South Banat, 106 Stundism, 14, 32, 48, 77, 79, 83, 84
Southeastern Europe, 2, 3, 16 Stundist Brothers, 78
Southern Caucasus, 51, 52, 54, 55, Stundists, 49, 81, 83, 90, 94, 107
57, 59 Stundo-Baptist congregation, 83
Sove, B.I., 184 Stundo-Baptists, 77, 83–85
Soviet State, 17, 67, 73 Stundo-Shalaputs, 79, 95
Soviet Union, 14, 95 Subbotin, Nikolai, 37, 42
Spener, John, 139 Subotica, 153
Spener, Philip Jacob, 78, 117 Subotić, Dragan, 220
Spiritualism, 124, 138, 149, 154, 156, Subotić, Jovan, 175
215, 218 Sumskaia district, 51
Srbobran, 110, 113, 153 Sunday schools, 289, 292–294
Srem, 106, 109–111, 153, 177, 180 Supreme Command of the Serbian
Sremski Karlovci, 114, 116, 181, 215 Army, 140, 142
Srpska Klarija, 174 Sventsitskii, Valentin, 69
Srpski Sion, journal, 116 Sveti Mihailo (today Lokve), village,
Stajić, Vasa, 140 267, 270, 273, 274, 278
Stambolov, Stefan, 307 Svetosavlje, journal, 126
Štampa, journal, 113 Svetozarevo, 159
Stara Pazova, 119 Synod, 6, 24–26, 31, 32, 34, 36, 70,
State Duma, 70 73, 80, 114, 145, 146, 149, 156,
St Athanasius the Great, 245 157, 183, 195, 217, 303, 315
Syrian Presbyterian, 8
Index 337
Štampa, journal, 113 Trubar, Primož, Slovenian protestant

Šumadija, 143, 147, 153, 217 reformer of the Lutheran tradi-
tion, 177
Tsarist Russia, 6
T Tsarkoven vestnik, journal, 317, 320
Tarashcha district, 81, 82, 84, 86, 91, Tsirintanis, Alexandros, 296
92, 93 Tudor, Popescu, 232, 235, 236, 250,
Taraš, village, 106 251, 257
Tavna, monastery, 217 Tudorian churches, 237
Tavrida province, 51, 55, 79, 80 Turbovka (Skvira district), village,
Tbilisi, 57 89–91
Teodosije, (Mraović), Metropolitan of Turkey, 3, 62
Serbia, 176 Tuzla, 157, 200
Theological School in Sremski
Karlovci, 181
Timişoara-Caransebeş archdiocese, U
279 Ukraine, 2, 3, 6–8, 14, 78, 79, 86, 95
Timoshevka, village, 80 Ukrainian folklore, 82
Titel, village, 178 Ukrainian peasants, 77–79, 81, 87, 91
Tobol’sk province, 56 Ukrainian Stundists’ (khokhly-
Todorović, Aleksa, priest, 158, 164 shtundy), 78
Tolstoianism, 14 Uniates, 156, 280
Tolstoyans, 49–54, 57–59, 61, 62 Union for the Victims of the War, 306
Tolstoyism, 48–50, 51–53, 56, 63, Union of Bulgarian Athletic Societies
64, 115 Younak [Hero], 306
Tolstoy L.N., Russian writer, 48, 49, Union of Democratic Clergy, 72
51, 57 Union of Orthodox Christian
Toma, Petar, 264 Fraternities in Bulgaria, 312
Tomić, Jaša, 115, 119, 120, 123, 139 Union of Orthodox Christian Societies
Topalović, Rafailo, 179 of the School Youth in Bulgaria,
Trailovici, Octavian, 272, 274 308
Transylvania, 5, 7, 8, 232, 265, 266, Union of Orthodox Women in
275 Bulgaria, 308, 310
Treaty of Neuilly, 305 United Council of Religious
Tregubov, I.M., 50 Communities and Groups, 73
Trifa, Iosif, Romanian Orthodox priest Uroş, Aurel, priest, 265, 268, 269
and evangelist, 17, 232, 237, USA, 14, 19, 108, 148, 153, 163, 265
239–248, 251–254, 257, 265, USSR, 74
266, 275 Uzdin Oastea Domnului choir, 273
Trotsky, Lev, Marxist revolutionary Uzdin, village, 269, 270, 272, 273,
and Soviet politician, 73 278–281
338 Index
V Vojvodina, northern Serbian

Valjevo, 153, 159, 182, 205, 208, 218 Provience, 7, 125, 143, 153, 158,
Valuev, P.A., Russian minister of the 175–177, 185, 186, 264
interior, 36, 42 Vojvodinci, village, 271, 279, 281
Varnava (Rosić), Patriarch of the Vorob’ev A., 56
Serbian Orthodox Church, 183 Vraniin, Iamand, 274
Vasa (Pelagić), Archmandrite, 110, Vršac, xiv, 109, 153, 180, 263–265,
111, 127, 140 267, 270–272, 278–281, 283
Vasile (Lăzărescu), Bishop, 263, 274, Vršac bishopric, 109
276, 278 Vučković, Jovan, 108, 114, 115, 123,
Vasil’kov district, 80, 86 129, 130, 139, 161
Vasnetsov, Viktor, 316 Vukićević, M. Veselin, 147, 164
Vegetarianism, 55, 59 Vybornost’ (‘electiveness’), 30, 32, 33
Velika Plana, 146
Veliki and Mali Torak, villages, 263,
281 W
Veniamin (Nistor), Bishop, 277 Western Christendom, 3
Venijamin, Bishop, 195 Western Thrace, 305
Verbova (Skvira district), village, 90 White Cross stauropegial monastic
Verigintsy, 53, 56 fraternity, 303
Verigin, Vasil’evich Peter, Doukhobor White, G. Ellen, 118
leader, 50–64 Wilson, Bryan, 14
Verigin, Vasilii, 54, 56, 57 Women’s Christian Movement
Verkhovskii, Ioann, priest, 17, 23–26, (WCM), 152, 179
28, 29, 31–42 World War I, 8, 9, 17, 70, 124, 130,
Verkhovskii, Timofei, 28, 40 131, 138, 141, 152, 160, 179,
Vernacular, 2, 5, 12, 115, 125, 128, 185, 214, 216, 219, 224, 261,
160, 174–178, 180, 183, 185, 303, 305
193 World War II, 7, 14, 18, 74, 146, 158,
Vernacular Bibles, 2 195, 202, 214, 218, 263, 277,
Vesnik, journal, 118, 128, 130, 146, 278, 293
149
Vesnik Srpske Crkve, journal, 118,
127, 128, 131, 146 Y
Vienna, 3, 181 Yannaras, Hristos, 289, 298
Vikentije, Fruškogorac, monk, 139, Yugoslav communist regime, 263
162
Virgin Mary, 152, 220
Višegrad, 218 Z
Vladimirovac, village, 275, 276, 281, Zagreb, 110, 183
282 Zbor, right-oriented movement, 158,
Vojlovica, monastery, 219, 221 207
Index 339
Zemun, 153, 163, 178 Zoe, movement, 15, 16, 184, 186,
Žiča, monastery, 157, 179, 208, 217, 285, 287–299
224 Zurich, 105
Zion’s Harp, hymnal book, 116, 178 Zvornik, 157
Zočište, monastery, 220

Orthodox Christian Renewal Movements in Eastern Europe

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Orthodox Christian Renewal Movements in Eastern Europe

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Edited by

Aleksandra Djuri Milovanovi

More information about this series at

Christianity and Renewal - Interdisciplinary Studies

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017948265

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017

Cover illustration: Wrangel, Getty Images

Printed on acid-free paper

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by Springer Nature

Belgrade Aleksandra Djurić Milovanović

1 Prologue: Looking West, but Walking East:

2 Introduction: Understanding Renewal Movements

Part I Orthodox Christian Renewal Movements in Russia, The

3 Ritual, Ecclesia, and the Reform of Russian Orthodoxy:

4 The New Doctrines of the Doukhobor Fasters

5 The ‘Renovationists’ and the Soviet State 67

6 Maliovantsy: Orthodox Christianity and the Ukrainian

Part II The God Worshipper Movement and Its Influence

7 The Nazarenes Among the Serbs: Proselytism

8 The God Worshipper Movement in Serbian Society in the

9 The Influence of the God Worshipper Movement on the

10 The Prayer Chanting of the God Worshipper Movement 191

11 The God Worshipper Movement and Pilgrimage:

Part III Case Studies of Renewal Movements in the Orthodox

12 The Romanian Lord’s Army: A Case Study in Eastern

13 The Oastea Domnului (Lord’s Army) Movement in the

14 The Brotherhood of Theologians Zoe and Its Influence

15 The Case of the Christiyanka Journal: The Bulgarian

About the Editors

Aleksandra Djurić Milovanović Ph.D. “2012, Ethnology and

Radmila Radić Ph.D. “1992, History, Faculty of Philosophy,

Bojan Aleksov Ph.D. “2005, Comparative History of central, southern

Dragan Ašković Ph.D. “2011, Ethnomusicological Science, University

Corneliu Constantineanu Ph.D. “2006, Philosophy/Biblical Studies/

Galina Goncharova Ph.D. “2011, Sociology, Anthropology and

of professions, and the study of nationalism. Galina has been granted a

Svetlana A. Inikova Ph.D. “1985, Anthropology, Lomonosov

Ksenija J. Končarević Ph.D. “1997, Lingua-didactic theory of text-

Amaryllis Logotheti Ph.D. “2016, History, Panteion University,

anticommunism, and the triangular relationship between Turkey, Greece,

Mircea Măran Ph.D. “2008, History, Faculty of Philosophy, University

Meic Pearse D.Phil. Ecclesiastical History. “1992, Ecclesiastical

Dragana Radisavljević-Ćiparizović Ph.D. “2013, Sociology, Faculty of

Mikhail Vitalievich Shkarovskiy Ph.D. “1996, History, Leningrad

James M. White Ph.D. “2014, History, European University Institute,

Sergei I. Zhuk Ph.D. “2002, History, Johns Hopkins University,

Prologue: Looking West, but Walking

The historic strength and the historic weakness of Eastern Orthodoxy

© The Author(s) 2017 1

peoples—with the sole exception of Russia—lived under Muslim,

empire. In the meantime, it accorded itself a right to interfere with

nation-states. Conversely, where societies were overwhelmingly agri-

insistence upon Church Slavonic seem arcane. Nation-states, under-

Hungarian and ethnic German Protestants of various confessions. In

11. See Zhuk (2004), Coleman (2005).

Introduction: Understanding Renewal

Aleksandra Djurić Milovanović and Radmila Radić

© The Author(s) 2017 11

God Worshipper Movement. These movements appeared in the same

Southeastern Europe (2014), Andrii Krawchuk and Thomas Bremer

imperial Russia Father Ioann Verkhovskii (James White) to the dis-

The most significant innovation in modern religious culture is a grow-

organized in Lewis County, New York. As immigrants came from Europe

Leustean, Lucian N. (ed.). 2014. Orthodox Christianity and Nationalism in

Part I Orthodox Christian Renewal Movements in Russia, The

Part II The God Worshipper Movement and Its Influence

Part III Case Studies of Renewal Movements in the Orthodox

Prologue: Looking West, but Walking

11. See Zhuk (2004), Coleman (2005).

Ritual, Ecclesia, and the Reform of Russian

Old Belief and Edinoverie

Exile, Death, and Afterlife

5. Verkhovskii (2014, p. 529); This new edition of Verkhovskii’s writ-

The New Doctrines of the Doukhobor

9. Ibid., sheet 11 back–12 back.

“христиан” ». Животная книга духоборцев. (Petersburg, 1909),

21. Толстойи, Веригин 1995.

27. „Письма духоборческого руководителя Петра Васильевича Веригина“.

The ‘Renovationists’ and the Soviet State

Maliovantsy: Orthodox Christianity and the

Kondrat Maliovannyi and His Movement

The Millenarian Theology of the Maliovantsy