An End to Heresy

On December 4, 1505, in the Moscow Kremlin’s Chudov Monastery, Archbishop Gennady of Novgorod breathed his last. One would think that the death of an aged monk would be of little significance, yet the actions of this man had serious repercussions on Russian history. Approximately 20 years before Gennady’s death, unusual priests came on the scene in Veliky [Great] Novgorod. They began to harshly attack the Orthodox Church, accusing its priests of acquiring too much wealth and of making appointments to church positions in exchange for money – a sin condemned by Holy Scripture.

Following this line of thinking, the rebel priests concluded that the priests who had attained their office by sinful means could not administer the sacraments, and that therefore the entire church service had no meaning. On top of that, these wandering preachers denied the sanctity of icons and cast doubt on the Holy Trinity – a central article of Christian faith.

We do not know whether or not the Novgorod heretics actually said the things their opponents accused them of. All we have are denunciatory speeches, primarily those of Archbishop Gennady himself. Given the duration and zeal of his efforts to expose the heretics, it can be presumed that his enemies enjoyed broad support among Novgorodians. And this is not surprising. The birthplace of the heresy was a major commercial city. Throughout Europe, it was enterprising and tightfisted merchants who first refused to meekly submit to ecclesiastical prescriptions. They were also the first to be bothered by ecclesiastical opulence. They had no desire to give up their hard-earned money to the Church.

At the end of the 15th century, Western Europe was full of heretics. In Germany, young Martin Luther, destined to initiate the struggle against the power of the Catholic Church, was coming of age. But across Russia, things were absolutely calm. The Orthodox Church enjoyed the support both of the rulers and of their subjects and was confident in its authority. The exception was Novgorod – the most “European” of Russian cities. Here, some people appeared and questioned this authority. And Gennady did everything he could to silence them. After a multitude of wrathful sermons were directed at them, the heretics were convicted. They were seated backwards on horses and led around the city as the faithful spat upon them. Birch helmets were placed on the unfortunate dissenters’ heads and then set on fire. Any who managed to survive this punishment fled to Europe. And that should have been the end of it.

Should have. Instead, this was only the beginning. It turned out that some of the heretics had not in fact fled. Somehow, they mysteriously turned up in Moscow, in the Kremlin, in the royal chambers. For 15 years, there had been supporters of the heresy among Grand Prince Ivan III’s closest confidants, first and foremost two prominent diplomats, the brothers Ivan and Fyodor Kuritsyn. The fact that Ivan Kuritsyn was better-known by his pagan name, “Wolf,” bothered no one. Back then, it was not unusual to practice two faiths. But the fact that the Kuritsyn brothers discussed sinful priests and the impropriety of Church wealth – that was a source of displeasure to many.

But there was nothing to be done. Ivan III was the sovereign and, having unified Rus and refused to pay tribute to the khans of the Golden Horde, he would brook no arguments. He had won the right to call himself an autocrat. He invited Italian craftsmen to Moscow to rebuild the Kremlin cathedrals and palaces and now it was evident to all what a great ruler lived here. Ivan married Sofia Paleolog, the niece of the last emperor of Byzantium. In so doing, he won the right to appear with Byzantine symbols of power – the orb and scepter. Who could raise objections with such a sovereign? There was no longer room in the country for both a strong sovereign and a strong church. The Church hierarchy was left with no choice but to pray for the preservation of its status.

Help for the priests came from a completely unexpected quarter. One of the strongest supporters of the heresy was the daughter-in-law of the Grand Prince: the Moldavian Princess, Yelena Stefanovna, widow to Ivan’s eldest son. The young woman exercised great influence, primarily as mother to Dmitry, the royal grandson. Ivan III so loved young Dmitry that he officially named him heir to the throne. Yelena Stefanovna’s support must have made life for the heretics significantly easier at court. It may even have been she who pointed out to Ivan how advantageous their teachings were for him (challenging the power of the Church).

Nonetheless, Sofia Paleolog, the second wife of the Grand Price, did not accept the young daughter-in-law’s privileged position. She had a son by Ivan named Vasily, and Sofia made every effort to ensure that Vasily would inherit the crown, not Dmitry. After lengthy and convoluted intrigues, Sofia and Vasily were victorious over Yelena and Dmitry. The latter were expelled from court and confined to a dungeon. This was a triumph not only for Sofia, but also for Archbishop Gennady, who had been unsuccessfully trying to convince Ivan III to break with the heretics.

Gennady and his loyal ally, the renowned Bishop Joseph Volotsky, spared neither actions nor words to convince the Grand Prince to switch sides. One argument proved decisive. Volotsky, who had for years argued the supremacy of ecclesiastic authority over secular authority, suddenly sent Ivan a missive declaring that the right to punish heretics, and by extension to interfere in Church dealings, must belong to the sovereign. The nimble mind of Ivan III immediately saw how well this arrangement could serve him. Supporting the heretics would inevitably lead to the sovereign taking over the Church’s wealth and revolutionary changes to religious life. But an alliance with Gennady and Joseph opened up another course for the Grand Prince: the Church would remain strong and wealthy, but would openly recognize the supremacy of the State and promise to serve it. Ivan decided that a strong Church as ally was better than a weak and looted Church.

In 1504, to the delight of Gennady and his supporters, the Holy Synod definitively denounced the heretics. Wolf Kuritsyn and his followers – referred to in official documents by scornful diminutives such as Mitya Konoplev and Ivashka Maksimov – were burned inside a log structure on the Moscow River. A certain Nekras Rukavov first had his tongue cut out and then was taken to Novgorod and burned there.

This was, perhaps, the only burning of heretics in medieval Rus. Until the schism of the 17th century, the church remained completely tame. Yelena Stefanovna was fortunate. She died quickly in prison. Her son, Dmitry, on the other hand, outlived his grandfather and spent many years in confinement during the rule of Sofia Paleolog’s son, Vasily III.

During the last years of Archbishop Gennady’s life, he was accused of taking bribes (forcing him to leave Novgorod). But in December of 1505, as he lay on his deathbed in Moscow, he must have taken pleasure in a sense of duty well done. How could he know that the tsars of Russia would not need a strong church for long? Each successive ruler gradually deprived the clergy of rights and privileges; two centuries later, Peter the Great placed the church under the full control of the State.