The fact that modernity makes a virtue out of selfishness is one of the keys to its enduring success. Solzhenitsyn claims that Protestantism made a major contribution to this:
Of course, one cannot declare that only my faith is correct and all the other faiths are not. Of course, God is endlessly multi-dimensional, so every religion that exists on earth represents some face, some side of God. One must not have any negative attitude to any religion, but nonetheless, the depth of understanding God and the depth of applying God’s commandments is different in different religions. In this sense, we have to admit that Protestantism has brought everything down only to faith. Calvinism says that nothing depends on man, that faith is already predetermined, and also in its sharp protest against Catholicism, Protestantism rushed to discard, together with ritual, all the mysterious, the mythical, and mystical aspects of the faith. In that sense, it has impoverished religion.
Agreeing with G. K. Chesterton’s view that each heresy takes a part of the truth and caricatures it until only a distortion of the truth remains, Solzhenitsyn maintained that this falling away from the truth in recent centuries could have apocalyptic consequences. “If mankind does not subordinate itself to moral demands, to moral conditions, then egos will destroy the world.” Taking the example of the ecological crisis, he believed that, like so many of society’s other problems, it has an irreligious origin.
Having left religion, man has forgotten that he is part of a unified creation. He has stopped thinking of himself as part of nature, and so we move to a destruction of the environment to such an extent that perhaps we will destroy the environment before we destroy society. As we can see by the number of international conferences where the United States and other leading countries are refusing to take measures to stem the destruction of the environment. This is a direct path toward the destruction of the world.
Confronted with such a doomsday scenario, was the only hope a return to religion? “Not a return to religion,” Solzhenitsyn replied, “but an elevation toward religion. The thing is that religion itself cannot but be dynamic, which is why return is an incorrect term.” There could be no return to the past.
On the contrary, in order to combat modern materialistic mores, as religion must, to fight nihilism and egotism, religion must also develop, must be flexible in its forms, and it must have a correlation with the cultural forms of the epoch. Religion always remains higher than everyday life. In order to make the elevation toward religion easier for people, religion must be able to alter its forms in relation to the consciousness of modern man.
Solzhenitsyn’s call for a dynamic dialogue between religion and modern culture seemed at variance with the implicit sympathy for the Old Believers evident in The Gulag Archipelago and several of his other works. “I spoke exclusively through the historical aspect, the historical plane, the historical lens”, Solzhenitsyn explained. The Old Believers were
treated amazingly unjustly, because of some very insignificant, trifling differences in ritual which were promoted with poor judgment and without much sound basis. Because of these small differences, they were persecuted in very many cruel ways, they were suppressed, they were exiled. From the perspective of historical justice, I sympathize with them and I am on their side, but this in no way ties in with what I have just said about the fact that religion in order to keep together with mankind must adapt its forms toward modem culture. In other words, do I agree with the Old Believers that religion should freeze and not move at all? Not at all!
Related to this from a Western point of view was the debate within the Catholic Church in the 1960s at the time of the Second Vatican Council. One side welcomed the Council because it modernized the Church, while the other, the traditionalists, saw it as a surrender to the modern values with which Christianity was essentially at war. Solzhenitsyn referred to the similar difficulties facing the Russian Orthodox Church:
A question peculiar to the Russian Orthodox Church is, should we continue to use Old Church Slavonic, or should we start to introduce more of the contemporary Russian language into the service? I understand the fears of both those in the Orthodox and in the Catholic Church, the wariness, the hesitation, and the fear that this is lowering the Church to the modern condition, the modern surroundings. I understand this fear, but alas, I fear that if religion does not allow itself to change, it will be impossible to return the world to religion because the world is incapable on its own of rising as high as the old demands of religion. Religion needs to come and meet it somewhat.
This perennial tension between tradition and reform in religious affairs was at the heart of Chesterton’s image of the Church as a heavenly chariot careering through the centuries, reeling but erect. It was, however, a little surprising to find Solzhenitsyn, so often perceived as the arch-traditionalist, apparently coming down on the side of the reformers. Perhaps it was time to apply a liturgical litmus test. Was there a point at which relevance to the modern world would sever religion’s links with its traditional tenets? Take, for example, the issue of women priests, which has caused such division in the Anglican church.
“Certainly there are many firm boundaries which cannot and should not be changed”, Solzhenitsyn replied. “When I speak of some sort of correlation between the cultural norms of the present, it is really only a small part of the whole thing.” There was a pause, punctuated by a mirthful, almost youthful gleam in the aging blue eyes. “Certainly, I do not believe that women priests is the way to go!” he continued, chuckling infectiously.
This infectious chuckling was another aspect of Solzhenitsyn’s demeanor that came as something of a surprise. Somehow, it seemed at variance with the pugnacity of his public image. The mirth and the relaxed humor were as much a part of his general character as the seriousness with which he approached many of the subjects under discussion. One example of Solzhenitsyn’s effervescence emerged when he was shown a list of Western writers with whom he shared an affinity. Solzhenitsyn was, I suggested, part of the same network of minds as these writers who had also adopted traditional Christianity as a response to modernity. He cast his eyes over the list, reading the names of Chesterton, Belloc, Eliot, C. S. Lewis, Tolkien, Sassoon, Sitwell, Waugh, and Newman: “I do know that such writers exist,” he quipped with the same recurrent chuckle, “and I also know that they are equally unpopular in the West!”
Did he believe that the outlook of such writers, taken together with the socioeconomic vision of E. F. Schumacher, was the key to society rediscovering its sanity? “I do believe that it would be the key, but I don’t believe this will happen, because people succumb to fashion, and they suffer from inertia, and it is hard for them to come round to a different point of view.” Did this pessimism, for want of a better word, apply to society’s prospects of rediscovering, or rising to, religion? There was a potent pause, during which his soul’s azure windows visibly saddened. “I would have to say that the road is very difficult, and the hope is very small, but it is not excluded. History has in different questions laid out some tremendous turnabouts and curves.” In that case, did he see the likelihood that religious belief would continue much as it was at present, the preserve of a misunderstood minority? “Yes, I do, but that doesn’t mean that believers should let their hands drop or that they should give up.”
In Russia at least, there were grounds for a limited degree of optimism. Since the fall of communism, there had been an increase in the number of Christianity’s adherents. “Many under an atheistic press, a vice grip, had forgotten, so we do have something of a return to Christianity. Yet simultaneously, there is a decay of values that accompanies the rise of the consumer society. It is a simultaneous process.” The present upheavals in Russia made it difficult to determine what the future held in store. “For the entire future of Russia, I would say that the situation is in a balance, and it is unclear which way this balance will go. As this is true for the whole of Russia, and all the issues to do with Russia, it is also unclear to what degree the development of Christianity will be intertwined in Russia and will influence the way the whole country goes. We cannot predict that now.”