Russian Catholics and the Latin Mass: Some History

The author is a convert from Orthodoxy, a fourth-year seminarian from the Russian Catholic Church of the Byzantine Rite and a consecrated lector from Saint Petersburg.

From One Peter Five

By Maxim Grigorieff

Russian Catholics of the Byzantine rite do not normally interfere much in the affairs of the Roman Rite, except in cases where it is truly necessary to speak or act for the good of our brethren in the one true faith. Today, I want to commemorate one deed and quite a few words that were said and done by two great pioneers and martyrs of Russian Catholicism of the Eastern rite.

One Deed:
The Russian Catholic Metropolitan celebrated the Roman Mass for the Latins

According to the opinion of some historians, Metropolitan Isidore of Kiev (1385 – 1463), an Eastern bishop and theologian who concluded the Catholic-Orthodox Union at the Council of Ferrara-Florence in the 15th century, was appointed as the papal legate for the Roman Catholics of three Church provinces located within the territories of the Russian state even before his return to Moscow. Thus, he was very similar to Bishop Joseph Wert – a Latin rite bishop of today serving as the ordinary for Byzantine Catholics in Russia who currently lack their proper leader, as well as to all other Latin bishops caring for Eastern Catholics in similar positions around the world – only, in reverse. In Moscow, Metropolitan Isidore – that polymath close to the royal family of New Rome (that is, Constantinople)–  was the Patriarchal Exarch for the Kiev Metropolis heading the Russian Catholic Church that had just achieved unity with the See of Old Rome in Italy. For the Latins living in the western lands of the Russian state, though, he was the one who celebrated Latin Masses, managed parishes, and possibly even ordained priests, wearing all the proper Latin insignia of that time.[1] (At this time the Metropolitan of Kiev was the head of the Church of Russia with the title “Metropolitan of Kiev and all Rus’. His residence, however, was in Moscow.)

Russia, or should I say Grand Duke Vasily II the Blind, appeared to be blind indeed to the spiritual benefits of the Union and the will of God. The society did not appreciate the efforts of its Metropolitan — a man who fervently defended the Eastern liturgy as well as the theology at the Ecumenical Council, competing with the best wits of the Dominican Order, while the future ‘heroes of orthodoxy’ (such as Mark of Ephesus) would finally absent themselves from the Council under the pretext of illness. As a result, Isidore was expelled from Russia for political reasons under a religious pretext. His place was taken by Bishop Jonah of Ryazan, a personal friend and close ally of the grand duke who practically led his country to a double schism with two Romes at the same time, although he did his best to stay in touch at least with Constantinople in attempt to have his deeds justified and authorised by the Uniate Patriarch of New Rome, the Catholic Patriarch Gregorios III. For many centuries thereafter, the Russian state treated Catholics with restraint or, under the influence of Protestantism, even hostility. But the Holy Spirit worked in the best minds of the Russian nobility, intelligentsia, and clergy throughout all these ages, as He did in England during the times of Cardinal Newman and G.K. Chesterton who were not less worthy than ancient martyrs who testified by their suffering at the dawn of the English Reformation. Isidore’s legacy, therefore, remains in the mustard seed of these latter converts that began to flower in the 19th century, as detailed in the recent 2nd edition of Heralds of a Catholic Russia by James Likoudis.

Let us turn now to one of these converts.

Many Words:
Russian Catholic Priest and Pioneer Convert Loved and Defended the Latin Mass, Language and Tradition

Future priest Alexey Zerchaninov was born on March 9, 1848, in the village of Bolshoye Murashkino to a family of an Orthodox priest. In 1871, he completed his studies at the Nizhny Novgorod Theological Seminary. After marrying on September 10 of the same year, just five days after his wedding, in accordance with the Russian Synodal tradition, he passed through all the minor orders and was ordained as a priest.

After his ordination, the newly ordained priest became a parish pastor in the village of Borisovo near Nizhny Novgorod – an old city of Great Russia (a fortress and outpost of the Moscow Czardom to the East of its Capital aimed to defend the borders from various nomadic tribes and Muslim principalities). There Fr. Zerchaninov actively engaged in missionary work among the Old Believers. These werereligious dissidents who had been persecuted by the Moscow Crown as schismatics for their unwillingness to accept certain liturgical reforms imposed by the government and the official hierarchy of the Russian Church. Once the eastern end of the Russian empire, the lands of Nizhny Novgorod were full of the Old Believers in exile. Their active presence highlighted the division among Christians, while their piety and education emphasised the shortcomings commonly spread among the official Church clergy and laity. A man of grace and a true servant of God, from the very beginning of his mission Fr. Zerchaninov was prompted to seek fellowship with those dissidents, conduct theological debates, while simultaneously engaging in religious education for his own flock. As a dean of the Arzamas district of the official Orthodox Church, Father Alexey taught religion in six rural parish schools, one of which was built at his own private expense.

His active educational and missionary work distinguished Fr. Alexey from typical members of the official Orthodox clergy, whose moral atmosphere and lifestyle were described by many contemporary writers as unflattering, to say the least. That is why, probably, Fr. Alexey was valued and respected, as he advanced in his career, which was very promising indeed.That is, until July 3, 1898, when he got imprisoned in Suzdal Spaso-Evfimiev Monastery as a religious criminal — a Uniate who had renounced Orthodoxy and embraced Popery, as they would say.

As I discussed in part II of my overview of the Russian Catholic beginnings:

It was for his religious views that he was later arrested and sent to the Suzdal prison as an apostate from the official Russian State Church. Lacking both the special education of a scholar and a simple notebook, there he wrote on small random sheets of paper his great 12 volume apologia for the Catholic faith titled The Kingdom of God in the World: Compilation of Materials Read by a Village Amateur, which was based solely on books and materials officially published by the Russian Orthodox Church. 

In the ninth book of his work, Fr. Alexey particularly wrote about the Roman Mass and the Latin language.

From the very first pages, while addressing the question of liturgical languages, Fr. Alexey draws the reader’s attention to the Apostle’s words on the interpretation of tongues. He points out that Paul specifically spoke of interpretation, not translation into the various languages of all the nations that inhabited the Roman Empire. If interpretation was needed, it may imply that the service with readings from the Scripture used to be conducted in one single, common language, and then explained to a necessary degree in this or that local dialect.[2] Fr. Zerchaninov held that to be self-evident, although the Pauls’ explicit topic was rather connected to speaking in tongues. But why would a Russian dissident even think of such matters?

Criticising the use of the Latin language, Orthodox polemicists noted that the Word of God should be preached to all nations, and therefore, supposedly, a single ‘official’ language has no place in the Church’s universal standard. In response to this argument, surprisingly resonant with the thought of Western Catholicism, Fr. Alexey remarks that the preaching of the Word of God and the celebration of the Liturgy are not the same thing, whereas neither are they not two mutually antagonistic entities. One should do both, as a standard liturgy in a standard language would complement the polylinguistic and multicultural preaching and religious education. Further in the text, he states that [Western] Catholics are correct to celebrate the liturgy specifically in Latin, as it was the language used by the apostles Peter and Paul for the local community of Rome that became the foundation of the Kingdom of God on Earth — the Catholic Church. In this historical circumstance, Fr. Alexey sees the fulfilment of Daniel’s prophecy:

And in the days of these kings shall the God of heaven set up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed: and the kingdom shall not be left to other people, but it shall break in pieces and consume all these kingdoms, and it shall stand for ever. (Dan. 2:44)

Since this Catholic Church is the Kingdom of God in the world, the author continues, this Kingdom must have one language that unites many nations. Historically, this language could have been Hebrew, Greek, or Latin. Fr. Zernchaninov believed that throughout the ages, it is the Latin language that has endured and therefore earnt its primacy.[3]

Personally, I cannot fully embrace the radicalism of Fr. Zertsaninov’s apologetic position, but there is no doubt:  his logic works excellently for the Roman Church, while also resonating with the thoughts and teachings of St. John XXIII, addressed to all Christians.[4] Even I, as a liturgical purist and a most passionate advocate of Church Slavonic and the Eastern Fathers, cannot deny the fact that many foundational dogmas of Christianity were formulated in Latin. Christianity, in its turn, is a historical religion founded by a historic figure and a real Son of Man, not an abstraction in the vacuum of space. Therefore, it is completely normal to have a diversity of languages within the Church, as well as some hierarchy among them based on various parameters depending on their intended use. That is why Latin has been and still remains highly valuable for the entire Church, and woe to them, who chose to ignore it.

Fr. Alexey continues his thought: the spread and use of the Latin language allows every educated Christian who partakes in the tradition of Saints Peter and Paul to unanimously praise the Holy Spirit. This then connects them with the leading Church, corresponding to the Epistle which has been traditionally ranked first among all of Paul’s New Testament letters.[5]

Unlike me, Fr. Zertsaninov was sceptical about the Church Slavonic, but he did admit the fact that even this ‘artificial’ language, gifted to the entire Christendom by Saints Cyril and Methodius, instils a strong sense of religious reverence in the faithful who pray in it. He believed that Latin evoked even more reverence among Roman Catholics — a language with such a rich history, on which many classical works of the glorious past of the West have been written.[6]

This pioneer of modern Russian Catholicism was so enchanted by the Latin language that he even seemed to have reached a level of childish naivety, as he suggested that Latin language had not been corrupted by the pagan wisdom of the Renaissance.[7] Of course, this was and still is a childishly naive proposition, but definitely well-intended and still a bit prophetic: a great deal of occult, pagan and gnostic content was written in many languages including that of the Romans, but Latin was latter used by the saints of the Catholic Church to oppose those evils in far more cases than any language could ever have boasted about in the modern times.

Next, Fr. Alexey, sitting behind the bars of the monastery prison, writes about the role of liturgical music. Russian Orthodox apologists opposed the use of the organ during the masses, insisting, like some contemporary thinkers in the West, that only the joint singing of the congregation can accompany the Liturgy.

Fr. Alexey replies:

In the Church service, music is almost like the representation of the invisible Divinity in icons. It is the language of the Word of God in relation to the mind and heart of man, acting on the human soul more irresistibly than any words or painted images, no matter how artistically they are executed. For the ear, it is like the beautiful rainbow for the eye, which cannot be precisely captured on canvas with even the best paints, despite the brightness of its spectra, and cannot be confined, despite its visible proximity.[8]

It is curious that despite the developed culture of singing and icon painting, the very topic of liturgical music has always been a blank spot for Russian Synodal theologians and apologists. Against those who attacked the instruments during the Liturgy, Fr. Zerchaninov presented a threefold argument:

1. First, the use of musical instruments in worship was inspired by God Himself;
2. Second, it has always been (I would say, meant to be – M.G.) the finest, non-secular music. Divine music that delights the spirit and touches the heart;
3. Third, the very practice of the Orthodox churches testifies to the universality of this principle: Eastern Orthodox people prefer to attend those churches with good professional choirs who sing well and beautifully. As far as the texts sung are literally the same, it is the quality of music that remains the only factor influencing that choice.

After all, the same Prophet who called for cymbals and harps to praise the Lord also called for all people and the entire universe to sing to Him.

There is an even more ironic statement on the pages of this book. Due to all the advantages of Western liturgical music, the quote states, even ‘the latest church reformers of the West, having expelled icon veneration from ecclesiastical use, did not dare to do the same with music.’[9] Of course, by saying that, Fr. Alexey was referring to the Protestants. However, as we can see, historically this iconoclastic phenomenon turned out to be broader and sadder in the West than even the mind of his brightness could have imagined at the beginning of the 20th century.

Finally, in the concluding part of the ninth book of his magnum opus, Fr. Alexey wrote about the Latin Mass. He argues, as if responding to the claims of Orthodox polemicists, that the Tridentine Mass is an ancient liturgy of the Apostolic origin, in its ‘modern’ form of the Tridentine rite tracing back to St. Gregory the Great – a great Orthodox Doctor of the Universal Church.[10]

On pages 142-143 he becomes even more specific, defending quiet Masses and pointing out the existence of similar services in the Russian Orthodox Church. Moreover, he emphasises the superiority of the Roman version over that practised by the Orthodox, which seems to be as questionable as extremely interesting in the context of Western arguments over the benefits of private Masses versus concelebration.

How very ironic it reads! While the ethos of the Western liturgical reform of the second half of the 20th century partly consists of following the East, the East itself originally adopted and shared many elements of its piety with the West – those elements that now seem to be abandoned. I find it difficult to argue against the pathos of attention to the East and the common tradition. That is precisely why I hope that the traditional elements of the Liturgy, the best – non-secular – liturgical music, and the Latin language will play among the Latins at least a bigger part of the role that Fr. Alexey Zertsanov, maybe a bit overly admiring, envisioned for them.

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[1] See the arguments in Соколов П.П. Был ли московский митрополит Исидор папским легатом для Москвы? / [Пл. Соколов]. — Киев : тип. Т.Г. Мейнандера, [1908]. — 16 с. ; 25 см.

[2] О. Алексей Зерчанинов [Звездин А. Н., псевд.], Царство Божие в мире: Компиляция мат-лов, прочит. деревенским дилетантом. Краков, 1897-1904. 12 кн.; Непокладные люди. Краков, 1904. Book 9, p, 6

[3] Ibid, p. 7

[4] Veterum Sapientia, URL: https://www.papalencyclicals.net/john23/j23veterum.htm

[5] О. Алексей Зерчанинов [Звездин А. Н., псевд.], Царство Божие в мире: Компиляция мат-лов, прочит. деревенским дилетантом. Краков, 1897-1904. 12 кн.; Непокладные люди. Краков, 1904. Book 9, p, 8

[6] Ibid, p. 9

[7] Ibid, p. 11

[8] Ibid, p. 53

[9] Ibid

[10] Ibid, p. 115.