Between Caesar and Christ: The Church, Monarchy, and the Risk of Fossilized Loyalty
A Reflection on the 4th of July
Since the liberation of Muscovy from Mongol rule in 1480, the Russian state has gradually stripped the Church of its inner independence—culminating in the Supreme Laws of the Empire (1796), where the Russian monarch was formally proclaimed the head of the Church. With the exception of a brief period of ecclesiastical freedom following the abdication of Tsar Nicholas II in 1917, and the current period beginning with the perestroika era, the bishops of the Russian Church Abroad have had the unique experience within the Russian Church of making decisions without pressure from political authorities.
Earlier in history, political systems corrected the damage of disastrous monarchs through coups d'état. In Byzantium, it was believed that no rebellion could succeed unless God permitted it—an idea arguably inherited from Roman political philosophy. Indeed, in Byzantine history, usurpers were sometimes more beneficial to the Orthodox Church than the “legitimate” emperors they displaced. In Russia, Emperor Peter the Great (r. 1682–1725) followed this logic when he claimed the power to appoint his successor, setting the stage for a series of palace revolutions throughout the eighteenth century.
That monarchy was a concession to human weakness is clear from the First Book of Samuel (8:7), where the Lord tells the prophet: “They have not rejected thee, but they have rejected me, that I should not reign over them.” Nevertheless, over time monarchy became sacralized. A sticheron for the feast of Christ’s Nativity glorifies Julius Caesar as the sole ruler of the earth. Three centuries later, St. Constantine—still Pontifex Maximus of the empire—dedicated the imperial order to Christ.
Even though the separation of Church and state was unknown in Byzantium, there were always holy men who resisted imperial encroachments into the sacred realm—men like in Russian history St. Metropolitan Philip II of Moscow (r. 1566–1568) and St. Metropolitan Arseny of Rostov (1697–1772). Their courage was a sign that the prophetic voice could still speak truth to power.
The Russian Orthodox Church Outside of Russia came into being as a response to the trauma of revolution and civil war. Unsurprisingly, within ROCOR the attitude toward the Bolshevik revolution and the murder of the royal family is unambiguously negative.1
One might observe that many American-born monarchists—who sincerely venerate the imperial family and uphold the memory of the Orthodox empire—likely take for granted the liberties afforded to them by the American constitutional order, often idealizing monarchy in the abstract and assuming, perhaps unconsciously, that their personal freedoms would remain intact under an imagined Orthodox crown—an assumption for which history offers little support. As Novice Serge Nedelsky once observed:
“The paradoxical fact remains, however, that it has been precisely liberal democracy which has allowed the ROCA, as I have suggested, to operate in conditions of freedom, unhampered by external political pressures.”
Absolutizing monarchy as the ideal form of governance makes it difficult to see the blind spots inherent to that system—chief among them, the lack of internal checks and balances on state power. By the late imperial period, this concern was beginning to register in the Russian Empire itself. Alexander II (r. 1855–1881) introduced judicial independence, and under Nicholas II (r. 1894–1918) the first national parliament allowed the voices of imperial subjects to be heard.
Having lived most of my life in Jordanville—where “God Save the Tsar,” the imperial anthem (1833–1917), is sung at seminary commencements, and where veneration of the last imperial family runs deep—I often wonder if we risk fossilizing in history. There is nothing wrong with preserving the hymn or honoring the martyrs of the royal house, so long as these symbols do not obscure our responsibility to discern how best to serve God in the present.
Yes, an Orthodox monarch is a sacredly anointed figure, set apart by the Church in a way fundamentally different from a modern president.2 Yet even the example of Tsar Ivan IV (Terrible, Groznyi) demonstrates that this consecrated role, though set apart by the Church, is not beyond the need for accountability. For we must also recognize that idealizing any system of governance—particularly one lacking structural checks—can foster a culture of unaccountability within Church institutions themselves. When reverence for authority takes the place of transparency and shared responsibility, the result can be not spiritual vitality but stagnation—and, for those faithfully laboring within such a system, even a toxic environment.
Preserving historical memory and honoring the royal martyrs can be meaningful expressions of gratitude and fidelity. But they should not come at the expense of thoughtful engagement with the world we live in now. Idealizing past forms of government—especially those that lacked structural accountability—can blind us to the needs and opportunities of the present.
As a Church living in freedom, we are called to respond wisely and courageously to the responsibilities God has given us today. Our task is not simply to remember, but to discern how best to serve—faithfully, creatively, and with integrity—in the world as it actually stands before us.
Footnotes
Only a year after its establishment, the Russian Church Abroad, at the 1921 All-Diaspora Council in Sremski Karlovci, proclaimed the restoration of the monarchy as the sole means by which Russia could be reconciled with God. “Appeal of Russian Pan-Diaspora Council of 1921 for Restoration of Monarchy,” Historical Studies of the Russian Church Abroad.
As it is mentioned in the Basis of Social Concept of the Russian Orthodox Church, “At the same time, the Lord says clearly through Samuel’s mouth that He expects this power to be faithful to His commandments and to do good works: ‘Now therefore behold the king ye have chosen, and whom ye have desired! and, behold, the Lord hath set a king over you. If ye will fear the Lord, and serve him, and obey his voice, and not rebel against the commandment of the Lord, then shall both ye continue following the Lord our God. But if ye will not obey the voice of the Lord, but rebel against the commandment of the Lord, then shall the hand of the Lord be against you, as it was against your fathers’ (1 Sam. 12:13-15). When Saul violated the Lord’s commandment, God rejected him (1 Sam. 16:1) and ordered him to anoint His other chosen one, David, a son of the commoner Jesse.” III. Church and State. The Russian Orthodox Church: Department of External Relations.