Reflections on War

This work of Bulgakov, which had been awaiting publication for many years, was first published by V. Beznosov in the magazine “Zvezda” (1994, No. 5) based on a manuscript stored at the Orthodox Theological Institute in Paris. The manuscript supposedly dates from 1940. Here it is reproduced from the journal text with a number of typos corrected. Reprint: Bulgakov S. N. Works on sociology and theology. M. 1997. pp. 650–692; commentary by V.V. Sapov: pp. 779–782. This work, to which many threads extend from the study “The Holy Grail,” can at the same time be considered as the first draft of Bulgakov’s dying work created during the war years - “The Apocalypse of John (An Experience in Dogmatic Interpretation)” (Paris, 1948). Here the main points of Bulgakov’s exegesis of the Revelation of John the Theologian are already evident. The question of war is one of those “damned” questions that seem to be incapable of a final solution, despite its apparent simplicity. They come back to us again and again, tormenting our minds and conscience. Of course, there is nothing simpler than a moralistic condemnation of war, following the example of Tolstoy, or generally absolutized pacifism, in connection with one or another of his doctrines. And, however, it turns out to be just as difficult and impracticable as the opposite: the militaristic and painless acceptance of war. The question of war, obviously, is one of those that does not allow for an absolute solution, but only a relative one, and this is where all its pain and difficulty lies. Here, in all its vital concreteness, opposite, but equally conscientious, decisions are equally possible. It cannot be exhausted by the commandment “Thou shalt not kill,” for the mere fact that the Old Testament, which gave this commandment, itself does not at all make its straightforward application to war, just like the New: neither the Forerunner, who addressed the soldiers (Lk. 3, 14), nor the Lord Himself, who by no means demanded either from Jairus, 1 or from the centurion 2 to renounce their ministry, nor the apostles, nor the Church, which canonizes soldiers, did not give it such an interpretation, which is characteristic only of straightforward sectarianism. It cannot be resolved even if one is guided by a feeling of pity, which easily leads to a dead end of contradictions, because military inaction can turn out to be as cruel as action. Peace, in appearance, is, of course, a more acceptable and undeniable value than war, but this is by no means always indisputable. Not every pacifism quand même, 3 which follows from man’s natural and even irreducible desire for peace and security, represents a moral value and can be justified. We must take on our conscience the entire burden of this issue, without evading or hiding behind abstract principles with their deafness to real life. The entire insufficiency of such decisions is exposed in the face of life when, in its inexorable logic, it brings everyone face to face with this question, from which there is nowhere to “evacuate”, except in the abstract. Is it possible not to want to overcome the war? An idle question. And don’t we read in the most heartfelt prophecies about this promise: “They will beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation will not lift up sword against nation, and they will no longer learn to fight” (Isa. 2:4). However, this is only a bright episode, which will be replaced by a new war, even after the 1000-year reign of Christ (Rev. 20:7-8). In any case, the Word does not speak about the bourgeois selfish overcoming of war, but about irreconcilability towards evil. It is expressed in a merciless struggle even in heaven, in which the angels “did not love their souls even to death” (Rev. 12:11), representing an image of a holy war. Why is life not an idyll of peace, but an image of constant struggle, personal, class, national? Why is this axiom about peace as the highest and indisputable good not understood? Is it only because humanity is subject to sin, and extreme sin at that, which is any murder, or because war and murder in war are not at all an absolute, independent evil, but derivative, as one of its particular types? Military murder is not at all the only and exclusive way of death, but only one of many. The life of the world is aggravated by mortality, which is a consequence of original sin. This is the primary source of war, hatred and evil. Moreover, everything emanating from this primary source is intertwined with each other in inconsistency, hence all the relativity and correlation of good and evil in the world, and in particular in war. In it, all the fighting parties can feel right and be affirmed in this truth. And it is difficult to imagine that the truth would always and in everything be exclusively on one side and not allow for this contradictory complexity, especially in psychological transformations and complications. The fate of war is that its beginning is terrible, which then automatically entails an increasingly complicated relativity of specific assessments. Of course, we can say that someone needs to start the cause of peace, that is, stop the war. However, this possibility also comes with a specific complexity. The fire must burn out for peace to become possible and necessary, although in the end the war must be overcome not by iron, but by strength of spirit. Life is a tragedy, and tragedy inevitably presupposes suffering: illness, murder, death. The human mind and will, as far as they can, strive to overcome tragedy, but they are powerless to abolish it, unless this is really necessary. Happiness and harmony on earth are only a short moment or an illusion, and a tragedy lived out with dignity is higher than them, for it is the cross given to every person. War is also one of the varieties of the tragedy of life and the great bearing of the cross, which is its justification, although it is precisely this side of it that they want to eliminate. War is not an inherent evil, in the absence of which prosperity and peace would reign on earth. On the contrary, other images of evil are possible, even if not bloody, and universal death comes to a person not from war, but from illness and mortality. Tragedy is the path of human life, the final outcome of which is beyond its reach. This tragic plan of life is realized in his own way by every person as his path to death and to what lies beyond its threshold. In this, the most essential thing, war and non-war as images of human death and life after it do not differ. In life aggravated by original sin, there are different types of evil and suffering that mutually determine each other. Such is war with its evil of militarism, which ultimately leads to automatic ignition, when “the guns shoot by themselves.” This automatism increasingly determines the human will in its actions, giving them the character of machine technology. Nevertheless, it does not abolish man himself with his freedom to the extent that it exists for him at all. Human freedom, being limited in its actions, encounters necessity and coercion on its paths. However, she is still indestructible in herself, in her inner self-determination, desires or reluctances, inspiration or decline. Therefore, in war, and even more than anywhere else, since the question here is about human life, the traits of human will and, consequently, freedom are most manifested, and this despite iron discipline and mechanical technology, and even now, in the age of chemical warfare and all kinds of weapons. The possibility of heroism and self-sacrifice - in the fight against the natural sense of self-preservation - remains even now, and they determine human actions. In human life, especially with the tension created by war, of course, an alternation of rise and decline, with equal or unequal strength, is inevitable, this is self-evident. However, here it is necessary to maintain proportion and observe the perspective in which these states of rise and decline occur, the top and bottom of human existence manifest themselves. In war, its depths are revealed, not only animal, but also human, here not only human, but also inhuman, spiritual forces are manifested, which generally act in the world. The prince of this world with the armies of demons, of course, also celebrates his own feast in military operations. There is demonic malice and hatred at work here, which finds satisfaction in human suffering and immeasurable grief, both for victims of war and their loved ones. Is it even possible to talk about the suffering into which the world is now plunging? However, no less than in these sufferings, the victory of the prince of this world is achieved in mutual malice and hatred, which flare up around the war and in this connection with it and poison humanity for many years and after it. We need special asceticism of the spirit in order to resist this spiritual self-poisoning of humanity, to remember the commandment to love our enemies who hate us. Of course, satanic power is also at work in war. However, is it only satanic? Doesn’t it manifest itself in it, along with the power of sin and malice (although where in human affairs is it not manifested?) also a sense of truth, the dictates of duty and conscience, and sacrifice? Who dares to deny this? Is there truth in the fact that the Church canonizes worthy warriors as implementing the law of Christ’s love, and calls them - scary and strange to say - Christ-loving? If we see in war only coercion, which completely abolishes personal freedom, then it is equally impossible to talk about either the Christ-loving army or the satanic army, but only about the automata that carry out this coercion. But if we abandon this fiction and preserve man’s inalienable freedom even under coercion, then we will have to recognize the possibility of spiritual differences here too. In the highest tension of human tragedy, the highest tension of the human spirit is realized - self-sacrifice. Therefore, it is not enough just to stigmatize the war, but it should be judged in all its specificity. 4 The nature of war is antinomic, like all life. War is, or rather, can be both the greatest atrocity and the greatest sacrifice, the cruelest violence and the highest self-sacrifice - both together, mixed and indistinguishable. The first side is most exploited by pacifists (Tolstoy of the last, but not the first period), the second by their opponents. Can such an unnatural action as the march of entire masses to mortal combat be accomplished without violence against oneself and without coercion, even if it is subsequently accompanied by a certain mental reaction such as inspiration for victory? In modern life, this coercion is carried out by the state leviathan, he is the true willing subject of war, super-personal and collective, although manifested in the consciousness of individual subjects, a certain I - we. In the ancient times of the pre-state existence of peoples, these were the bearers of national consciousness, leaders, biblical judges and the like. Currently, these are the heads of state. But still, with any organization of power, it, in the person of its representatives, is the subject of a war in which there are always leaders and followers. The latter are thus victims, albeit passive ones. And of course, without such organized coercion, war would not exist; it is the main background of the necessity in which various free movements of the human spirit realize themselves. Against this background, active sacrifice of military feats and military inspiration arises. It reaches its highest limit when it no longer needs coercion, but is self-sufficient: this is volunteerism in its various forms, generated by personal heroism, free sacrifice. In its specificity, war represents a complex and motley spectrum of different mental movements. If war is a sacrifice, then who makes it? Its subject is, first of all, the entire given collective, state or people, which has some kind of super-personal sensitivity, no matter how abstract it may sound. His existence makes itself felt in days of glory and shame, victory and defeat. It can dull and sharpen, but this very possibility indicates the presence of such a super-individual subject. 5 The collective makes a sacrifice, dooming itself in advance to the loss of many of its best sons, who inevitably die in war; this determination is included in its general acceptance, and in a certain sense it can be said that it extends to all its members, of course, depending on the degree of their consciousness, as well as on the nature of the war. There may be more or less here, but there is something to which this difference can be attributed. The most general here is also the least specific, and vice versa, this specificity increases along with the narrowing of this collective: a region, a city, a village - of course, they feel both their losses and their victims more strongly. But with unique and exclusive strength, this sacrifice of war is felt by a family that is deprived of its children or sacrificially giving them away. Strictly speaking, if we can speak in a strict sense about the victims of war among non-combatants, then, of course, most of them are mothers, together, of course, with fathers. Here this sacrifice is the most forced, it is to the greatest extent a disaster or misfortune, similar to a serious illness or a catastrophe in general. However, if these latter can - to the extent of personal faith - also be experienced sacrificially (“The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord” Job 1:21), then no less, if not even more, can parents experience the victims of war in their own children, although this is the heaviest and most, so to speak, sacrificial sacrifice. Here its acceptance, which can only be a feat of freedom, is indistinguishably combined with the oppressive necessity, the coercion of war. The antinomy of freedom and necessity tragically tears the heart, but it itself is a sacrifice to God, already as a tragedy of life. Finally, there are people, by the will of God, who are away from the military fire and do not personally suffer from it, either themselves or in the person of their loved ones. However, for them there remains spiritual complicity in a common disaster and tragic accomplishment, of course, to the extent of each person’s spiritual strength. This is where the high, heroically sacrificial nature of war stems. If it is the greatest disaster, then it is also a blessing, a heavenly bell calling for the sacrifice of Abraham 6 and the sacrifice of Jephtha. 7 In general, one can single out war as the greatest disaster, as the cause of the greatest suffering, especially at the present time, when mass epidemics, at least in civilized countries, have already been overcome. However, it cannot be said that suffering from diseases, especially hereditary and childhood diseases, has been overcome now, and will ever be, as long as mortality exists. Of course, the difference remains that suffering from war is caused by man, and in this sense it could not exist, which cannot be said about diseases that are clearly insurmountable by human medicine, unless by the direct intervention of the power of God, such as the miracles of Christ, the healing of the apostles and saints. However, this possibility of avoiding war, as well as overcoming it altogether, remains only abstract for now. War appears as fate, disease, death. In the human experience of war, as well as in illness, the human personality is manifested with its freedom, but also with its limitations and powerlessness. But in war, as in illness, there are various spiritual opportunities and achievements. We can say that war, like other disasters, is a test and a cross, self-sacrifice, and not just murder. You can judge the individual actions of warriors, but not the army itself (as we find in the speeches of the Forerunner). One can condemn the war, citing the fact that the Lord did not bless it with His own example. Of course, such an example would be incompatible with the divine ministry of the Lord. But are various other human affairs, which, however, had His blessing on them, compatible with it and actually combined? He was surrounded by fishermen, whom he even commanded to cast the net, but He Himself did not participate in their work. He even allowed a publican among the apostles and instructed the traitor apostle to have a reliquary for the poor and for various needs. The Lord remained free from ordinary human needs and occupations (and even from His carpentry craft) and instead allowed the wives who walked with Him to serve Him from their estates. And in human affairs there is a certain hierarchy of ministries, which does not contain condemnation or rejection of some affairs in favor of others, but only their actual incompatibility. There is no need to strive for external “imitation of Christ,” for man is not given the power to do the works of Christ, to perform His miracles. Not a single human activity was characteristic of the Lord in such a way that it could become a matter of direct imitation of Him. This also resolves the issue of military affairs as a special profession related to the existence of the state, among various others. The possibility and presence of such a disaster as war brings us face to face with the most terrible and unanswerable questions about God’s relationship to the world and man, about God’s providence, on the one hand, and about human freedom, on the other, about this incomprehensible interaction of the omnipotence and wisdom of God and the weakness and powerlessness of humans. The simplest way of resolving this question is in which all the fullness of activity and power is attributed to the Divine, while man is only an instrument or object of them. Such an anthropomorphic resolution is characteristic of the entire Old Testament, in which only obedience (with the possibility of disobedience) to the command of God remains to the lot of man. In particular, the same applies to wars, the narrative of which fills its pages. God makes war and gives victory. He amazes and exalts. Examples of such evidence are, one might say, countless. Here is just one example: “This is what the Lord says to His anointed Cyrus: I hold your right hand to subdue the nations for you, and I will remove the belts from the loins of kings... I will go before you... I girded you, although you did not know Me... I... make peace and bring about disaster” (Is. 65: 1-7). In the New Testament this worldview is no longer present. Of course, the Word of God, like the Old Testament, cannot simply be rejected by the power of the New, but it must be interpreted accordingly. Obviously, the images relating to Divine warfare must be understood in the general sense of God's providence, his leadership in history. This providence in no way can abolish human freedom; on the contrary: it interacts with it, it is only realized through it. This freedom contains, first of all, various possibilities, to which God’s providence responds accordingly. These possibilities do not preclude the presence of a common plan; on the contrary, it is presupposed in the omniscience of God. However, the observance of freedom eliminates the entire effect of Divine omnipotence, by which the ways of the Lord would be directly and unerringly carried out, or, in any case, it is commensurate with it. In this combination of freedom and necessity, the given and the given are combined. The first is determined by the character of humanity, which is characteristic of it and manifests itself in a certain era. Here, on the one hand, the plan and completeness of divine creation, carried out in a certain place and time, is revealed, and on the other, its damage by original sin, due to which its plan is realized in history in a distorted and painful way, and freedom becomes a means for such perversions. Therefore, on the one hand, God leads the world to its goal by His providence, and on the other, the world resists this path by the power of the evil principle operating in the world. There are two paths: the divine-human and the satanic, the Antichrist. The first path opens to Divine assistance, the second is traversed along the paths of fighting against God. The first requires openness of heart to God, a desire to surrender to Him, to fulfill His will. The main, necessary, most essential means for this is prayer as actual God-manhood, its very energy. The God-man Jesus prayed unceasingly, from the beginning of His ministry until His death on the cross. This means that, of course, not His omnipotent Deity, but His God-manhood needed this prayer: “Thy will be done, as it is in heaven and on earth” to overcome the kingdom of the prince of this world. And, according to this image and example, prayer is the divine-human breath of all humanity; without it, its right path cannot be realized. Images of prayer are varied, just like religion. Although there is only one true religion, Christian, however, even beyond its boundaries there still remains prayerful communication with God. Just as there are different levels of prayer, prayer is also possible in different religions, no matter how different it may be. This does not mean indifference, but it is necessary to expand the concept of God-humanity so as to give a place in it to extra-Christian prayer and worship of God, although limited, but deeply Christian. Otherwise, the entire Old Testament worldview is completely incomprehensible, which not only contains, as fundamental, pre-Christian Judaism as a revealed religion, but also paganism, pious (like Cyrus) and even wicked (like Nebuchadnezzar). In general, the Providence of God is always accomplished on the basis of the interaction and cooperation of God and man. Of course, in the life of nations there is a given fact that does not depend on human freedom, but, on the contrary, predetermines its path. Nations appear in history, just as individual human personalities are born with their individual properties and destiny. The general plan of human history is outlined by mysterious writings in time and space. Here the direct will of God operates in accordance with the free personal self-determination of each person in his being. Nations are born and die, like individuals, and their destinies are accomplished in the sequence of time. The basis for this sequence is contained in the fullness of humanity, although already fallen and fragmented by the force of original sin, but it is given as a known predetermined fate, which is realized on the basis of freedom and the divine-human paths in history. When we talk about the Providence of God, acting in the interaction of God and man, we mean the transcendental action of God in the world, immanently realized. This is, for example, the creation of the world by God “out of nothing.” This descent of the transcendent into the immanent determines all created being, which receives the created originality granted to it in a world with created freedom and on the basis of it. The Divine, in His providence for the world, relates to it transcendentally, interacting, but not abolishing it. However, this is not the only and final image of the relationship between the transcendental and the immanent, in which their positive connection is preserved along with the entire abyss of distance separating them from each other. There is also another relationship in which this abyss is overcome and divine and created human existence are united without separation and without fusion, like the God-manhood of Christ. Christ, as the God-man, is at the same time characteristic of being God in all the power of His transcendence to the world, as “the only Holy One.” Trinity" in heaven, and the God-man, who descended from heaven and became incarnate, ascended again into heaven and sat down at the right hand of the Father, but also coming in glory, His kingdom will have no end. He remains with us all the days until the end of the world and forever and ever. Such a union of Divinity and creation, God-humanity in one Divine Person, but two beings, represents an unknown mystery. It is beyond human comprehension, since it is turned to heaven, to the Divine life of the Holy Trinity. But it is accessible to man in its divine-human revelation. In understanding the relationship of the transcendental God to the created world, the question of His omnipotence arises. God is good and omnipotent, why does He allow evil and suffering? Why does He tolerate war without abolishing it by the command of His omnipotence? Why and why are all the horrors of life allowed? This is the eternal question of “theodicy,” the victorious presence of evil in the world, a question that is, in a certain sense, unanswerable, since it is associated with the irrational principle of freedom and sin, interconnected, if not directly identical and inseparable. In each individual case, we repeat, the question is unanswerable, since evil is irrational and does not admit of either justification or explanation. In the general plane of existence, evil and suffering in this age are so connected with created freedom as the basis of the universe that to destroy it means to abolish the world. Created freedom contains evil and the suffering associated with it as a possibility, which in original sin has already become an inevitable reality. The Providence of God, which rules the world in its fallen state, also takes into account it. This is the theodicy of the world created on the basis of freedom. To defeat the freedom of evil without destroying the world is possible only by the feat of freedom and goodness, that is, by the free sacrifice of Christ, by the power of redemption, not by the omnipotence of power, but by the omnipotence of love and self-abasement of the God-Man. This means that God Himself suffers from the suffering of man in the world; by his crucifixion He is crucified in His God-manhood. Here we are approaching the most terrible and mysterious question about the participation of the God-man in human suffering. If it could be resolved through the relationship between commanding omnipotence and obedient creation, then it would be extremely simple (although in this formulation the general question of allowing evil inevitably returns). But such an external, or rather, transcendental relationship of God to the world, although preserved in the aspect of God’s providential management of the world, cannot be applied at all in another aspect - God-manhood or God’s incarnation. Christ forever united His life with the life of man and - in a certain sense, identified them, of course, not in sin, but in its consequence - suffering, “for us for man and for our salvation.” And what comes from this and what does it mean? This means that even now Christ suffers and is crucified with man and for man, dying with him. This idea was developed in general form in application to dying (in the essay: “The Sophiology of Death”), 8 now it must be expanded and generalized in application to war as mass mutual extermination. How to understand the redemption accomplished by Christ in His suffering on the cross? Is this only a one-time act in which, having once suffered, Christ lived through suffering to the depths, but also to the end, after which, having risen and ascended into heaven, sitting at the right hand of the Father, he contemplates human suffering in transcendence? Or does the God-man, despite all this, continue to suffer with humanity, incomprehensibly connecting this with heavenly glory? That's the question. Of course, there can be no doubt that redemption is universal and extends to all nations, not only after Christ, but also before Him, both in the Old Testament and outside it. And Christ’s suffering on the cross is also universal in the sense that it combines and overcomes all suffering and atones for all sin: “having been accomplished” 9 - although in a specific place and time, yet above all place and time, universally and absolutely. “He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how will He not with Him also freely give us all things?” (Rom. 8:32). The once and forever acquired benefit of redemption is given to all who are worthy of it, as a kind of Divine power. “He makes intercession for us” (34). Redemption means the removal of Christ from the world through his ascension into heaven and sitting at the right hand of the Father. But does such removal imply, so to speak, dehumanization? How should we understand the presence of Christ in relation to His humanity after this removal from the world? Is it really only as a Judge awaiting the future Last Judgment, at which a new meeting with humanity will take place? But such an understanding would directly contradict the undoubted belief of the Church in the mysterious presence of Christ on earth and, above all, in the Divine Eucharist, as well as other sacraments. Such an understanding would contradict revelation, which speaks of Christ’s active participation in human history, where He fights with the “beast,” with the kings of the earth and their armies, and also reigns with the saints for a thousand years (Rev. 19:11–21; 20:4) (no matter how we interpret these images more precisely). And, finally, isn’t this presence on earth, in history, in human life, spoken of by the outpouring of blood and water from the side of Jesus, the “Holy Grail,” which can only be interpreted in the sense of the invisible presence of Christ on earth, suffering from human suffering? We must not stop at combining the seemingly incompatible - different ways of life of Christ in His sojourn on earth and in heaven. We must think here in antinomies and combine the incompatible - the Ascension and the Holy Grail. The main idea here is that Christ, having ascended into heaven, remains in the world, being glorified, remains now suffering. The suffering of Golgotha, accepted by Christ, combines the burden of all human sins, since it atones for them. By accepting one, universal human sin as universal suffering, original sin is redeemed in its fullness. It, while remaining a single act, includes the multiple totality and completeness of all private, personal sins committed, being committed and about to be committed, on which, first of all, redemption is based. Christ identifies Himself with each of the sinners in order to burn away their sin with His atoning sacrifice. Therefore, the one, universal sacrifice of Christ, as it were, dissolves in the ocean of individual human sins, which it atones for. This multi-faceted nature of the atonement is beyond doubt, both in general and in each particular case. Every individual sin, like an individual sinner, needs individual atonement, which is accomplished through the power of Christ’s sacrifice. This idea about the one High Priest and the one Sacrifice for many is developed with particular force in the Epistle to the Hebrews, through the comparison of the Old Testament sacrifices, which are repeated multiple times, and the one and only Sacrifice that is not repeated. See especially ch. 10, especially verses 11-13: “He, having offered one sacrifice for sins, sat down forever at the right hand of the Father, then waiting until His enemies were made His footstool” (Ps. 109:1). “For by one offering He has made perfect forever those who are being sanctified” (Heb. 10:14). However, what does this “expectation” of victory over enemies when seated at the right hand of the Father mean? Of course, this "waiting" is not a passive, inactive state in heaven, but refers to participation in ongoing history on earth. (For all this, see the essay “The Presence of Christ on Earth”). 10 In other words, the question is: along with eternity in which redemption was accomplished, does Christ participate in history, that is, in the temporal life of humanity? Is this compatible with Christ's heavenly presence? Can this latter be understood as indifference or indifferent contemplation of human life from the outside? When Christ came to earth, then, in addition to the direct purpose of His coming, redemption and salvation from sin, He performed many works of love for mankind, for which He was deliberately anointed by the Holy Spirit (Luke 4:18), as He Himself testified to this. The constant difficulty in interpreting these miracles of Christ is the fact that these miracles are scattered, isolated and seemingly random. Meanwhile, can we admit this regarding the love and mercy of God? On the contrary, it should be recognized that they are, as it were, exemplary and indicative evidence of God’s compassionate love for man, and their actual area is much wider than the visible manifestation, and this is even more miraculous. But you can take another step forward in this questioning, namely, ask yourself whether the love of the Son of Man for people is limited only to His contemporaries on earth, and does not extend to those who lived on Earth before or after Him: “seeing the crowds of people, He had compassion on them, because they were exhausted and scattered, like sheep without a shepherd” (Matthew 9:36). He walked around Galilee, “healing every disease and every infirmity among people” (Matthew 4:23). And further, “having called His twelve disciples, He gave them power over unclean spirits, to cast them out and to heal every disease and every infirmity” (10:1). This was the image of Christ’s love for mankind on earth. And isn’t it revealed with special force in the story of the resurrection of Lazarus, where it is said: “He himself was grieved in spirit and indignant... Jesus shed tears. Then the Jews said: look how He loved him... Jesus, again grieving inwardly, comes to the tomb” (John 11:33-8). So, Jesus was pained for the suffering man in His earthly ministry and had mercy on him. And if this mercy, at least during the resurrection of Lazarus, was expressed as prayer, then there is no reason to deny it and, on the contrary, there is every reason to affirm the action and power of Christ’s unceasing prayer in other healings, according to His word: “this generation is driven out by prayer and fasting.” 11 And so, the question arises: is this area of ​​philanthropy and the power of prayer limited only to cases of the earthly ministry of Christ, or is it not limited to them and is never limited to anything at all, either before or after, for “the Lord is generous and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in mercy.” 12 The image of His love for mankind and miracle-working is different than on earth; it becomes completely different and even impenetrable. However, He does not lose His mercy - isn’t this evidenced by the many different petitions, prayers and prayer songs that are offered to God for various human needs? Isn’t this direct evidence of Christ’s participation in history, of the prayerful interaction between God and man? However, this is not enough. It is not enough to assert that God helps man, and man helps God in this help, namely, in sending it down. After all, this can equally apply not only to the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, the Son of God, but also to each of the Persons of the Holy Trinity, i.e., both the Father and the Holy Spirit, and to the entire Holy Trinity, consubstantial and indivisible, as God the Provider. But there may also be a special talk about theanthropic help and the relationship between the Godman and theanthropy, and through this relationship, the entire Holy Trinity. This is what requires extreme attention and special clarification. The Incarnation forever united the Logos with man in the God-man, in His incarnation. It made Him accessible to human life and its suffering, compassionate to humanity. This compassion is expressed both in the death of Christ Himself and in His dying with man, according to the revelation of death and dying in our lives, in Christianity clothed in Christ (see “Sophiology of Death”). This compassion of Christ for humanity, even after His glorification, is absolutely certain, at least within the limits of Christianity, since it is given in our experience. But does it extend beyond its borders, to Christianity and beyond it, if at all it exists before and beyond? Of course, here we come to the edge of knowledge, beyond which it remains inaccessible to us. Nevertheless, here we, at least, have no direct reasons to give a negative answer to this question, even if there are no reasons for a positive one. However, we have sufficient reason not to exclude non-Christian humanity from the totality of all human nature assumed by Christ. The mere acceptance of tongues into the Church of Christ sufficiently confirms at least this possibility, as does the spread of Christianity among the pagans. At least this applies to humanity before Christianity and beyond it, since it has not yet been preached. But if here we have a mystery that has not been revealed to us, then in relation to Christian humanity there can be no room for doubt regarding its unity with Christ. Christ in the fullness of His humanity shares his suffering. It is necessary to explain the image of this incarnation. First of all, it must be understood as Christ’s acceptance of the original sin of all mankind and its universal redemption through the power of this acceptance. This is a universal ontological act of acceptance of all human nature, relating to human nature. Each individual in his individuality participates in the power of this act, but the source of this renewal is one - the divine-human nature of Christ. This act of pan-human redemption is Christ’s own work, by which He gives man a new life of deification. In relation to this, humanity is a passive recipient of its salvation, although everyone receives it through a personal act and effort. In this work of salvation we have the completed and perfect God-manhood of Christ, glorified and ascended into heaven and, as a participant in the Divine life, “sitting at the right hand of the Father.” They give us life and salvation. But the question is: is humanity in Christ absorbed by this deification in its own natural life and human freedom, or is the latter preserved in such completeness that human history as a human affair remains possible. This is, at the same time, the same question as about the Holy Grail: is Christ separated from the earth in His ascension above it and is thereby taken away from earthly existence, or does He, according to the Orthodox interpretation of the dogma of the Ascension, being in heaven, co-exist on earth. “Having fulfilled your concern for us and united us on earth with the heavenly, you ascended in glory, Christ our God, never departing, but remaining persistent, and crying out to those who love You: I am with you and no one is against you” (Kontakion of the Ascension). This antinomian idea of ​​being together in heaven and on earth must be further developed in application to earthly sojourn. If through the Ascension the Lord moves away from space and time into the immutability and immeasurability of eternity, then His persistent presence with us keeps Him within the limits of earthly existence. Although His own humanity has already been glorified and exalted and is therefore super-temporal and super-spatial, His co-humanity in us continues to exist and is lived out in time and history. Not only that. This life continues on the basis of created freedom, which along its paths determines the earthly destinies of this humanity and thereby plunges into them every individual person in general, but at the same time the universal Co-Man Christ. And in relation to these destinies, as already determined by human freedom, Christ Himself again continues to be passively determined, suffering, sacrificial, led to free passion, although at the same time leading to salvation. There is nothing in humanity, except sin, that does not belong to the humanity of Christ, and would not be shared by it. And therefore they share the fate of this humanity, its weaknesses, illnesses and suffering. In other words, Christ crucified on the cross once, accepting the sin of the world on the way to Glory, resurrection and ascension. But He, in His humanity, still remains on earth, sharing its destinies and sufferings, not on the path to the glorious and saving resurrection and ascension, but on the paths of humanity’s own earthly life. This is His ongoing incarnation. One can boldly express the thought that Christ personally co-lives and co-suffers the personal life and destiny of every person, except only what is associated with sin and consists of it. However, suffering, as the consequences of sin, is also accepted by Him. This is the revelation of His incarnation, its fullness. Christ separates no one from His love and does not cast anyone out of His humanity. Christ is on the bed of suffering with those who suffer and on the bed of death with those who die. He is close and accessible to every person in his sorrow. He gives assistance in death as God, but He also dies co-humanly with each of us. Otherwise, death would be unbearable because of its mortality, which is weakened on the edge by the immortality of Christ, His resurrection. Christ’s perception also includes the actions of human freedom, its participation in human destinies. Since it is a factor of variability in these latter, introducing possible differences and changes into them (of course, within certain limits), it extends its humanity to the humanity of Christ. Christ, accepting human nature in its fullness, and therefore in its freedom, exposes Himself to free suffering for the sin of the whole world, not only original sin, but in it and with it for all human sins. There is a double acceptance here: expiatory suffering for sins and free compassion with a person in his life as a consequence of the Fall and damage to the primordial nature. This corruption is a consequence of original sin, and to that extent it is connected with it. But at the same time it is different from it and receives independent existence in the fallen world. This is primarily death, but also all kinds of suffering: “a child’s tear,” the suffering of children and adults from hereditary diseases or from any defects in general. They have a common cause in original sin and the fall, but this is not their particular cause. On the contrary, particular cases remain irrational injustices that cannot (and even should not) be justified. Otherwise, it will be a justification for Satan, who operates in the fallen world until he is finally driven out of it. This was the mistake of Job’s friends, who did not want to allow the obvious injustice that took place in Job’s fate through the cunning of Satan. But Job was a “type” of Christ, providing an example of personally unfair, undeserved suffering. And the “prototypical” meaning of the suffering Job lies precisely in the fact that in his image we see the fellow-suffering Christ. Christ knows no partiality and has compassion not only with Job, but with every person who is given the gift of suffering. The world is tormented and tormented by the prince of this world, who has achieved the fulfillment of his evil intent, the crucifixion of Christ. But together with the tormented man, Christ also suffers with earthly human torment, as if by ongoing co-crucifixion in love for man. The price of saving a person and bringing him to eternal life in resurrection is even greater than crucifixion and universal death accepted once. It also includes multiple repetitions or, more precisely, the fulfillment of this death and passion in the destinies of every person on earth. Christ in His Passion on the Cross rose above man, as it is said: “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:14–15, cf. Eph. 4:8–10), but He remains on earth with man “always, even to the end of the age” (Matt. 28, 20). Christ in this sense continues His suffering on earth, and being in heaven in the Glory of the Ascension. Therefore, by causing suffering to each other, voluntarily or unwittingly, we again crucify Christ. More than once you can find, as the theme of an artistic painting, the image of the suffering Christ on the battlefield. This idea about St. is expressed here in anthropomorphic images. The Grail, about the ongoing earthly suffering of Christ, in particular on the bloody field of human mutual destruction. The anthropomorphic perception in this deliberate portrayal of war as extreme evil and suffering. In the eyes of God, bourgeois decay, accompanied by peace and security, is perhaps an evil no less and even greater than war (“for the flesh is the essence”), 13 by its very duration. However, one cannot diminish the horror that strikes war, this rider sitting on a red horse, to whom “it was given to take peace from the earth and that they should kill one another” (Rev. 6:4). Christ's attitude to this bloody pandemonium is not limited to divine contemplation or heavenly guidance, but is expressed by divine-human participation through suffering in His humanity. It may not even be alien to direct activity, as is expressed in the image of the warfare of the Lamb in Revelation: “He was clothed in a robe dipped in blood. His name is: the Word of God. And the armies of heaven followed Him... From His mouth proceeds a sharp sword, to smite the nations with it” (19:12-21). No matter how one spiritualizes or allegorizes these images in their concreteness, one thing is clear that they testify to some kind of earthly activity of Christ in human history, at least at the end of it. But that's not all. Along with this activity, there is also a certain passivity, like the new co-crucifixion of Christ with humanity. Yes, truly so. Christ is present on the battlefield among the wounded and killed, the suffering and the dying, and not only as a victorious horseman, “clothed in bloody clothing” (Rev. 19:13), as he is in the fullness of time, but also as a victim of war, sympathizing with its disasters. He shares with all the victims of war the sorrow and tears of both themselves and those who lose them. If we love Christ and live with Him, then we must know that in war we crucify Him again, and He is crucified by us and with us, He by love, we by our stupidity and cruelty. War would be overcome and would become impossible if we saw and felt it as the crucifixion of Christ, and the passionate torments of humanity as melting His passion. Christ has compassion (as well as rejoices) not only in war, but in all human endeavors. His inseparability from humanity is the hidden power and source of life of the latter, despite the fact that history is made by man himself, while Christ only sacrifices His humanity in it. No matter how disastrous what is being done to humanity, and how destructive what it itself does, it cannot perish, because it is, after all, the co-humanity of Christ. And this passion of Christ in history is saving for man, just as His presence in humanity ensures the preservation of history from the destructive forces of Satan. At the end of the story, the King of kings Himself, the Word of God, comes forth on a white horse to defeat the beast and the false prophet, as well as those who are with him. 14 Here we again encounter the usual antinomy for the theologian, the combination of his times and supra-temporal existence, divine governance of the world and human freedom. The Holy Trinity rules the world in His wisdom and omnipotence. In Her, Christ also rules the world, as “one of the Holy Trinity,” sitting in heaven at the right hand of the Father. This management of the world is combined with the preservation of its freedom in the incomprehensible interaction of the Creator with creation. Christ in the Holy Trinity acts as God in all His omnipotence. However, Christ, in the kenotic self-abasement of His incarnation, is in interaction with the world, and He no longer rules the world, but, as if on the contrary, He Himself is obedient to the destinies of the world, sharing them in His humanity. And since God, in interaction with human freedom, allows war, without destroying it with His omnipotence and without prohibiting it with His power, the God-Man Himself becomes its victim, suffering it in His humanity as His earthly fate. There is an antinomy here: the one who commands is also the one who is commanded. Here we have the application of the doctrine of the co-humanity of Christ, expressed in the speech about the Last Judgment, where Christ testifies to His sharing of all human suffering: Matt. 25, 35–40, 42–45. Christ here identifies Himself with suffering humanity, “hungry, thirsty, strange, naked, sick or in prison.” Of course, this list is not exhaustive, but only approximate, and it quite naturally can and should include complicity in the suffering of war, wounds, captivity and all its other disasters. This identification is expressed, moreover, in the strongest and most unlimited form: “I was hungry, and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me something to drink; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me”; and this is the same in addressing both the righteous and sinners: “as you did (or did not do) to one of the least of these my brothers, you did (or did not do) to me.” There is no reason to see in these words a simple allegory or only an expression of sympathy for the suffering. No, it is said here with all power and without limitation: To me (cf. Matt. 10, 40: “Whoever receives you receives Me.” However, here, as in other similar cases, we rather have only a simile: Lk. 10, 16: “He who listens to you listens to Me, and he who rejects you rejects Me,” cf. OK. 9, 48, John. 13, 20). The dogmatic content of the speech about the Last Judgment is usually limited only to the division of humanity into lambs and goats, placing some on the right hand and others on the left. But it also contains a more general, and therefore more important thought - about the universal co-humanity of Christ with “His lesser brothers,” that is, about the mystery and power of the 6th incarnation, with the life of Christ in humanity. The whole force of this identification of Christ with his lesser brothers testifies to precisely this. The idea of ​​St. The Grail is expressed in its own way in these words, and there is no reason to diminish their power by allegorizing, on the contrary, they should be taken in their direct meaning. Therefore, the general idea about the co-humanity of Christ must be extended to others, to all paths of history, and in particular to war, as an area of ​​​​human action connected with the most disastrous suffering, which includes its various images, as they are noted in the speech about the Last Judgment. Such is this “panchristism,” the pan-humanity of Christ, which is expressed in it. To this we can also add some considerations expressed in the sophiology of death. The antinomy now indicated must be extended to the entire Holy Trinity, although not directly, but indirectly. The Death of Christ, although it refers to the second Person of the Holy Trinity, incarnate and made man, however, in a sense it also extends to the other Persons, the Father and the Holy Spirit in Their unity of love and life. The earthly connection of Christ with all humanity extends to the entire Holy Trinity, accordingly for each of the hypostases. The Lord is present on earth as the only one of the Holy Trinity, and therefore any of His hypostatic self-determination or action entails the participation of other hypostases - the sending Father and the performing Holy Spirit. Here we have the ongoing incarnation of God, which took place according to the will of the Father, who sent the Son to earth, and through the action of the Holy Spirit, who accomplished the incarnation (through the Most Holy Theotokos...). In this regard, the meaning of prayer in the life of the Lord is determined. We said that prayerful invocation is a direct way to attract Divine help to oneself and, to this extent, to introduce one’s life to communion with God, to the extent of making it divine-human. This applies in general to any prayer addressed to God, as well as to the Mother of God, angels and saints, but first of all and directly to Christ as the God-Man, and through Christ and in Christ to the Father and the Holy Spirit, the entire Holy Trinity. Further, prayer to the Mother of God, Angels and saints, directly related to them, is offered by them to God, and, therefore, is also a prayer to God, although indirectly directed. The validity of this prayer cannot be questioned, no matter how it appears. War and all kinds of disasters are a school of prayer as a struggle against evil force and victory over it, and in this sense, prayer is also a spiritual war. Earthly human efforts are multiplied by the help of prayer. This applies to the Christian world. But even the non-Christian world is not devoid of its prayer, albeit perverted and misdirected, but still addressed to God. And this prayer is in an unknown way accepted by the God-man in His co-humanity with people and ascends to the Father. Here is the mystery of God's love, the love of Christ. The God-Man Himself also prayed unceasingly in His earthly life, prayed to the Father about His service, as well as about humanity and its needs, prayed as the God-Man in His humanity. By prayer, by its power, and not by the omnipotence of God, as if by some new creative act, His miracles were performed and help was given. He could impart this power to His disciples, sending them to preach. This was so during the earthly ministry of Christ, but also now, after His ascension. But even now it is spoken of His imperishable, abiding priesthood, by the power of which He “is able always to help those who come to God through Him, being always alive to intercede for them” (Heb. 7:24-5). It speaks of the High Priest, who offered Himself once as a sacrifice, “to take away the sins of many” (9:28), “by one offering to make forever perfect those who are sanctified” (10:14). But what does this single offering mean, which for us humans is revealed in its power, as making perfect those who are sanctified? Being one and one-time, it is realized as multiple, with which we “have boldness to enter the sanctuary through the blood of Jesus Christ” (10, 19), and to it “we approach with a sincere heart, a new faith” 15 (20, 22). This means that we combine our prayer with the prayer of Christ, offering it “for everyone and for everything.” We pray in Christ and with Christ His Eucharistic prayer, into which He imparts the power of salvation and help. The single prayer of Christ’s sacrifice is the diverse and effective prayer of Christ, by which the world is held together and humanity is saved. The prayer of the Mother of God, who does not leave the world even in the Assumption for the sake of help in earthly sorrow, and covers the world with Her protection, is also immediately obvious to us. The Church pleases the Mother of God as the Intercessor of all who mourn, praying for Her Son for all: “Pray for all Your Son, Christ our God, and cause all to be saved.” However, already from this testimony it is clear that the prayer of the Mother of God, like her power, is different from Christ’s; it is addressed to Christ as God. Although this is the prayer of the Queen of Heaven, it is still a created prayer - from the face of creation to the Creator. But at the same time, it is still a divine-human prayer, since in the person of the Mother of God the very human nature of the God-man, in all the power of incarnation, prays and intercedes before the Eternal High Priest. If Christ Himself prays to God with human nature in His God-manhood, then this human nature has a hypostatic existence in the Mother of God. She is, as it were, His human voice, His human existence, overshadowed by the Holy Spirit. In this sense, the unity and inseparability between Christ and Mary in their one God-manhood is essential. Humanity, having been received by the Logos, became Christ's God-manhood, belonging to Him. But the same humanity, deified by the incarnation of God, in the Virgin Mary also has its own hypostatic existence, although it is in inseparable connection with the Divinity of the Logos through the Mother of God. Due to this connection, the Mother of God directly penetrates the God-Man; it is, as it were, His love for humanity. If Christ’s prayer for man directly penetrates into heaven, saving all humanity, then the prayer of the Mother of God is offered from the face of hypostatic human existence, making it, as it were, original in relation to the God-man, although it is a created hypostasis. Motherhood of God is God-human, like Christ's human nature, with, however, a significant difference from it. It is in Christ that it resides in the inseparable and unmerged union of divine and human nature. In the divine-humanity of Mary, divinity descends on humanity, preserving all its originality. We have here a kind of divine-human bridge connecting the heavenly and earthly. 16 The Mother of God, “who did not leave the world in the Dormition,” 17 prays for the world and with the world, as the head of creation, and She suffers with it and for it. According to the revelation of the Feast of the Intercession of the Virgin Mary, She cries for peace, and therefore would it be bold to say or think that now She cries for humanity, exhausted on the battlefields, in all the horrors of war. Below the Most Holy Theotokos, but together with Her stands the creature praying to God, holy people. They belong to the glorified and deified humanity of Christ. They live in this world with humanity and suffer for it, and they assist it with prayerful help and grace-filled power. Therefore, it cannot be allowed that their help, both in general spiritual assistance and personal participation, is not particularly manifested in the disasters of war. There may be such participation based on the special proximity of one or another saint to a person. The humanity of the saints establishes a special personal, kind of family closeness, which is felt and realized in personal relationships. When the horrors of war or other social disasters occur, the spiritual forces of the saints who have departed from this world are especially strained to help, to meet his needs and prayers. However, heavenly help to suffering humanity is not limited to this. There is also what can be called spiritual mobilization. Angelic armies come to the aid of the human world. Revelation gives knowledge of this, like other sacred books. Service of St. angels in relation to the created world is defined as continuous assistance to it. Particular attention should be paid to their struggle with the dark forces of the prince of this world. Just as there is a good providence of good, God’s guidance of the world, carried out through holy angels and holy men with the Queen of Heaven at the head of all, there is also a dark providence of evil, the destructive action of satanic forces. Again, Revelation sufficiently testifies to this. After the war in heaven between Michael and his angels, the dragon and his angels were cast down to earth in rage (chapter 12) “and they went to make war” with “those who keep the commandments of God and have the testimony of Jesus Christ” (12, 17). As the forces of evil, the following act in history: the harlot - the temptations of a false civilization, the beast - the military power of the state with its violence, and the false prophet - the preaching of false teaching. They transfer their seductions, deceptions and powers to the kings of the earth, who will make war with the Lamb (17, 14). After the fall of Babylon (ch. 18) the final battle begins “of the beast and the kings of the earth and the armies they have gathered to fight with Him who sits on the horse and with His army” (19, 19). And finally, right before the very end of the history of the world, Satan, once again freed from prison, will come out to deceive the nations and gather them for battle, their number like the sand of the sea (20: 7-8). But here comes the end of the story. So, satanic forces act in history as a beast - organized imperialism or self-sufficient totalitarian statism, nationalism and despotic communism, as a false prophet of poisonous rationalism with the scientific mastery of the forces of nature for the sake of power, and as a harlot, the corrupting pleasure of wealth and luxury. And all these forces unite in one common result - the war of all against all. This state of the world is difficult to maintain in balance through self-interest and fear. However, sooner or later it is violated and the uprising of Gog and Magog begins. 18 However, it would be an unacceptable simplification to stylize historical forces and events as a mere opposition: war or peace with a pacific negation of war. War is a disaster, but not yet an absolute evil - in any case, it is not always and not evil in everything; it exists mixed with good, like everything human. The world is also not always and not everything is good. In addition, in a war there are always fighting and arguing sides, which obviously cannot all be equally and at the same time right. In distinguishing between good and evil, truth and untruth, one cannot therefore limit oneself to external criteria, but must go back to the internal state. Moreover, war is a long series of events in which various human states develop and change, from the highest to the lowest, as well as vice versa. Standing in the face of death (since it is not dulled by duration or even habit) opens unknown depths in a person’s soul, gives new revelations, but can, on the contrary, lead to bitterness and coarsening. There is no need to go either way, but there is room for free self-determination. In general, war is the greatest shock, which with a tragic blow breaks the usual way of bourgeois life with its decay and stagnation. This is the spiritual face of war from the perspective of its various possibilities. Therefore, it is wrong and unfair to deny any possibility of its spiritual and Christian elimination and to reject the presence of a Christian principle in war, and, consequently, in soldiers, first of all - in terms of goals and objectives (protection of values ​​of the spiritual and cultural order), national wars, within certain limits, even estate and class wars. Here we have concrete judgments of history. Therefore, it still remains possible, at least in principle, to be a Christian, and in this sense, a Christ-loving army (it goes without saying that the love of Christ is not the exclusive advantage of the army; on the contrary, it can manifest itself in other ministries, although, of course, not always and not in all). Abstract condemnation, like praise of war, is of no use. Before our eyes, a picture of a pagan war and the onset of nationalism is unfolding. Of course, here too it would be excessive and unfair to directly condemn all participants in even such a war. Human assessments are limited and one-sided, they can even be biased, and generally relative. The cruelty of war obscures and dulls the conscience, especially when the war is the methodical and technical extermination of both the belligerent and non-combatant populations. With a certain level of technology, its corresponding methods become inevitable, until war destroys war through the extermination of the population itself, both fighting and non-fighting, at least in a certain part. “You will hear about wars and rumors of war... nation will rise up against nation and kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines, pestilences and earthquakes in different places” (Matthew 24:6-7). “And if those days were not shortened, no flesh would be saved, but for the sake of the elect those days will be shortened” (Matthew 24:22). The words of Christ foretell this possibility of complete mutual destruction of humanity, but it will not become a reality and history will not yet end in wars. “You will also hear about wars and rumors of war. But this is not the end" (Matthew 24:6). According to Revelation, the last war of the Lamb against “the beast and the kings of the earth and their armies,” which ends with the casting of the beast and the false prophet into the lake of fire and the killing of “the rest” (Rev. 19:20–1), also does not end the story. This is followed by a 1000-year kingdom, i.e., the era of the triumph of peace and goodness, and only after this the final battle of Gog and Magog, and only then comes the end of history, the casting into the lake of fire, “where the beast and the false prophet are,” of the devil himself (20: 7–10) and, obviously, the second coming of Christ. And all this is foreshadowed as inevitable: “See, do not be alarmed, for all this must come to pass” (Matthew 24:6). Of course, this inevitability is the fruit of sin and “the cooling of love in many” (Matthew 24:12), but people do not live by sin and enmity alone in these terrible days. The main task and meaning of these tests is to maintain faith, to see God in the horrors of earthly history, and not to lose Christ in your heart. Even more than that: the greater the horrors and the more difficult the faith, the closer Christ is, the more a person needs to love Him. A new love must be kindled for Christ, crucified and tortured on the battlefields. And this new love will reveal Him in a new way, bring Him closer to the earth, call Him to His new, second and glorious coming. In the thunder of war, let the prayer resound: come, Lord Jesus. Every great war represents this image of the final clash of good and evil, angels and demons, Christ and the prince of this world, in which there are always two fighting sides. If we do not include the 1000-year kingdom due to its mystery and, perhaps, even its invisibility, then history, even according to Revelation, is a series of military waves alternating with each other until the last rebellion of Gog and Magog. Pacifism as such is already powerless to win victory because the instigator of war is the personal bearer of evil in the world, the prince of this world and his servants are the Antichrists. And perhaps, we need to say this directly, the world is unkind, satanic pacifism can become not good, but corruption, a person cannot tolerate free peace, philistine well-being with impunity. Carrying the cross, of course, can remain purely spiritual, for what is essential is not this or that image of the cross, but itself, its power. However, the spirits of evil never lay down their weapons until they are cast out of the world into the abyss of non-existence, until the world is freed from them. Along the paths of the spiritual struggle taking place in the world, wars almost inevitably arise. War is not the only, and perhaps not the worst, type of evil in the world to openly combat. There are different sides to this fight. Spiritual victory may not coincide with military victory, for it is intertwined with it into one complex complex, with plus or minus on both sides. War is a world fire of history, in which much is burned, valuable and perishable, much is melted down and renewed to life. And in that sense, it is still the beginning of life, and not death, albeit through mortal means. “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone, but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (John 12:24). This life is brought to the feet of the Source of Life, the Resurrector of the dead, who leads the world beyond the threshold of death, to the new life of resurrection. There are so many lives worthy But only one death is worthy: Only under bullets in calm ditches Believe in the banner of the Lord - the firmament. Second part. War and the Sophia of Creation In the face of war, its great trials and terrible temptations, doubts and temptations inevitably arise regarding the power of good and truth in the world. The darkness approaching the world obscures the light in the soul, and in it the temptations of ancient Job arise about the powerlessness and inaction of God in the world, and they inevitably lead, if not Job himself, in which his personal faith still wins, then the logic of his thoughts, to the denial of His very existence. There is only reigning evil in the world, the world is ruled by the prince of this world. This conclusion is prompted by spiritual fear, which is accompanied by mental and physical exhaustion. Man becomes blind and deaf to good as long as he remains seized by this horror, terror antiquus, 20 is in its power. However, such a state is only a temporary affect, which ceases along with the cause producing it - with some lull in the war or its cessation. However, even after this affect has passed, and even apart from it, all those questions that are awakened by the presence of war in the world, by its very possibility, remain valid. How is war possible and what does such a possibility mean? This question is naturally considered in the light of theodicy, or the justification of God in the world, as it is posed in the book of Job, and Job’s friends simply want to evade it, inventing Job’s non-existent guilt, while Job himself comes face to face with it with all its irresponsibility and the secret hidden in it - namely, the actions of Satan in God’s world, Satan’s providence along with the Divine. The answer to this question is given eschatologically, that is, outside and above historical events, as a postulate or revelation of faith: “I know that my Redeemer lives... and I will see God in my flesh. I will see Him myself, my eyes, not the eyes of another will see Him” (Job 19:25-26). Such a confession testifies to the transcendence of good in a world that, in its immanence, is immersed in evil, “the whole world lies in evil” (1 John 5:19), according to the direct testimony of the apostle. In this sense, the problem of theodicy, as a justification of the world in its present existence, cannot even exist, since it belongs to the kingdom of the prince of this world. Internally, he is freed from this dominion due to the expulsion of the prince of the world by Christ, but in his state he remains in his power to this day, as he was before Christ. This satanic state of creation does not relate to its very existence, for the world created by God is supported in it by the power of God, and at its core it is God. However, having been taken away from God by Satan through the deception of man, the world still remains in Satan’s possession. Of course, the ways of Satan end in a dead end, for they cannot lead the world to anything, neither to salvation nor to destruction, for for this latter Satan still remains powerless. Not destruction, but the state of destruction, destruction, not satanocracy, for which he is also powerless, but demonization are the lot of the world lying in evil, in which, however, the seed of the Kingdom of God matures and grows: “Thy kingdom come.” The world lies in evil, but there is still good, for it is God’s creation. How can we understand this union of two kingdoms existing in one world, how is there a place for their competition and struggle, how is light and darkness combined in one common being, how can the world of God lie in evil? All the contradictions of existence and its mysteries are brought to this antinomic connection. The problem of theodicy relates precisely to this combination in one being of the transcendent omnipotence of the Creator and the immanent self-legitimacy of the world. In its immediate form it is undecidable, since the transcendent, as such, remains outside and above the immanent. However, this opposition does not leave them completely alien to each other, as if existing in a mutually impenetrable duality, but makes room for a certain duality in which their meeting and even interpenetration takes place. This latter is accomplished on the basis of God-manhood as the divine presence in created being, in other words, the sophia of the created world. It is she who establishes a bridge over the abyss between the transcendental and the immanent, their actual identification, although not identity. This is the relationship between the Divine and created Sophia, the Divinity in creation and creation as having a divine beginning within itself. The creation of the world consists of this connection and interpenetration of both principles. God created the world out of nothing. This means that in the world there is divine fullness and power, but in it there is also a receptive, becoming being, i.e. incompleteness, weakness, some abiding ontological minus, emptiness, nothingness, “from” which and in which God created the world, attaching its nothingness to being, i.e. to divine fullness. This basis of creation is indestructible, although it contains emptiness as a possibility realized in becoming. The world was created “with goodness,” and this goodness is inherent in the entire composition of the world as the basis of being in each person individually and in all of humanity and its history as a whole. There is no unconditional evil in the world with a complete absence of good as the divine principle of being, for such an undivine or extra-divine being would fall into the abyss of non-existence, pre-created or extra-created nothingness, i.e. it would simply not exist. No matter how differently good and evil or being and emptiness are united, in each individual image of such a connection it belongs to being, exists according to its divine basis. But such a created being has an edge and through it comes into contact with non-being, “from” which it was created, borders on non-being, plunges into it, “lies in evil,” although it strives from it to turn to good or to being, to be completely immersed in it. Non-existence in creation, however, is not only a passive principle, a complete emptiness, for such does not exist in creation, in a world already created, called from non-existence into being, after in the creative act the emptiness of nothingness was once forever filled with being. As such, it turned into an opportunity or task, received the theme of its existence for thematic development and corresponding execution, and became something that is already defined as something on the basis of created self-creativity, i.e. created freedom. This latter is not absolute and not omnipotent, not conditioned by a task in creation or givenness: freedom, although in all its limitations and relativity, is included in the very essence of being, just as the divine principle of any individual being is included in it. Created freedom is not absolute not only in the sense of the absence of omnipotence, but also of infallibility, both in setting goals and in their implementation. It inevitably goes through trials and temptations. This leads to the possibility of falls and the inevitability of mistakes. The path of human freedom is further complicated, since its passage takes place with the participation of spiritual forces, in which the possibility of fall was already initially realized, that is, ontologically before man. Its consequences extend to the human world, which, being involved in the fall, becomes the lot of the prince of this world, subject to his tempting influence. Thus, temptation and even fall actually turn out to be the price of created freedom and, in a sense, its synonym. The mixing of good and evil turns out to be its way; it exists as a created being, although it does not constitute it. However, such confusion is not a final and irresistible state, but only a path to overcoming freedom in its limitations and the error of its ways. The final goal of the path is liberation from created freedom in its meaning. Freedom from freedom cannot mean its loss by free beings, which is impossible, because it would mean the destruction or reduction of all created being; on the contrary, it is an elevation of the state of the created world to the fullness of its self-control. However, this image of created freedom is precisely what gives it the character of relativity, which marks all human decisions and actions. Relativity is generally a property of every created being as determined by the beginning of created freedom and the formation based on it. These two principles, relativity and created freedom, related to each other, and in a certain sense even identical, must be interpreted sophiologically, based on the relationship of the Divine and created Sophia, which determines created existence. The Divine Sophia, eternally existing in God as His self-revelation, is His revelation in the world as the entelecheic basis of the universe, its immanent purposeful cause, revealed in its formation through created freedom. But this image of the revelation of world sophia through created freedom presupposes not only the presence of imperfection, from which an ascent to perfection occurs, as from incompleteness to completeness, from task to fulfillment, but it is accomplished inevitably and through the confrontation of positive and negative principles of being, plus and minus, good and evil. Relative freedom, tempted by its power, can become not only the good, but also the evil genius of man, since, in addition, it becomes obsessed with inspirations, if not directly satanic, then man-divine. The absence of infallibility, inherent in created freedom in its limitations, makes created creativity, although Sophia in its foundation, eternally wavering, contradictory, always seeking, but not always finding. Such is the life of creative sophia as becoming. Life in its intensity is the highest good, just like creativity in its sophistic aspiration. In a certain sense, it can be said that even an evil life, in which the principles of sin are expressed, but in a certain connection with the forces of positive being, is higher and ultimately more sophic than passivity, lifelessness, inaction, a-sophia. God created man to cultivate and preserve paradise, and not only admire it in inaction, and endowed man with the creative power of his image. A person is entrusted with a talent that should not be buried in the ground, but multiplied. This parable has a sophiological meaning; it talks about Sophia’s treasure of vitality given to every person: live and multiply your vital energy, even regardless of what and how it is multiplied. Of course, in other places in the Word of God it is defined what this energy should be devoted to when multiplying talents, but in this parable only one thing is said: do not bury what is given to you in the ground, like a lazy and crafty servant. The talent that is given to a person cannot be understood as a motionless and unchanging treasure, but as constantly changing grace-filled gifts of life, which must be creatively perceived in human activity. The opposition here is between givenness and givenness, passivity and creativity, which, thus, is the only way for the manifestation of sophia in the world. But this path presupposes not only active creative tension, but also struggle, of all kinds, with spiritual forces, human confrontation, with one’s own inertia. Every person is called to be a creator, poet and artist in the field of his life, to whom Christ says: “I brought fire to earth, and how I would like it to flare up.” 21 And not only this, but also: “Let every one take up his cross and come after Me.” 22 This is the creative task of shaping the life of the world and one’s own, each according to his own strength. Of course, Christian creativity is under the control of Christian consciousness; it must serve the structure of the Kingdom of God and be determined by this. However, we must never forget the relativity of such service, which is by no means available as an immediate task, but is only a guiding general goal. The Divine Sophia in the created world shines with rays of sophia, which man strives to catch with his consciousness - in his “justification of good” 23 - in the sophia of the world. Therefore, it is impossible to absolutize what is not an end, but a means. However, you have to creatively choose your path and establish yourself on it. It has to be sought both positively, by affirming a certain way of life, and negatively, through confrontation. Based on these general principles, we now have to turn directly to our paradoxical topic: war and sophia, or the sophiological justification of war. Can such a connection be made, or such a justification found? Isn’t this questioning itself blasphemy in relation to the Wisdom of God or a betrayal of the very principles of sophiology? Indeed, in the darkness of war, obscuring the sunlight, in its melancholy and torment, plunging the world into a state of numbness, in the ocean of blood, tears and all kinds of torment, is it not necessary to abandon, as a blind illusion, the very thought of the sophic nature of the world, about the indestructibility and invincibility of its sophic beginning in it? Should we not rather recognize the world as the kingdom of the prince of this world, which can be understood rather not in the light of sophiology, but of Satanology? These are the questions that now burn the consciousness and require an answer with all the strength of sincerity and truthfulness, as from Job, lying on the rot and saying to his sensible and optimistic friends: “So now you are nothing; they saw a terrible thing and were afraid” (Job 6:21), “you are all pitiful comforters” (16:2). We, the confessors of the sophianity of the world, as having its divine basis in Sophia, the Wisdom of God, must now, fearlessly looking into the face of tragic reality, not shy away from confessing and preaching our faith, no matter how weak and dull our voice may be. And through this human weakness she herself speaks, the Wisdom of God. We must confess not with Job’s friends, pitiful comforters, but with the suffering righteous man himself: we know that the consolation of the world is alive, and it will reveal itself to the world. Sophia's creation, Sophia's history and - we have to admit - in its own, special sense, war is also Sophia's, that is, the Sophia's principles of life manifest themselves in it, or rather, in spite of it, but through it. And therefore the question is: is there a manifestation of creativity in war, not only as the preservation, but also the multiplication of talents? Are the bloody threads of war woven into the fabric of history, as necessary or at least inevitable in it, like the state and law, the art of thought and knowledge, in general, every human activity in history? Is the sophiodicy of war possible? All these questions can and should be answered in the affirmative, albeit in all the relativity that is inherent in history. War is not an absolute evil, a satanic failure of the universe, devoid of any ontological content, and finding no justification in its cruelties. But in that case, what is it? Of course, war is the most tragic page of history with all its cruelty, both objective, in the sense of the inevitability of victims and suffering, and subjective, in the sense of awakening in a person brutal instincts, base feelings, blind horror. Here we can repeat the words of Job: “they saw a terrible thing and were afraid.” And in this sense, war, especially modern war, is so terrible that it’s scary to even talk about it. Anyone who even approaches her mentally is filled with horror before her. And this horror closes the lips and paralyzes the thought. However, is it permissible to remain in spiritual silence and some kind of thoughtlessness about what requires and awaits an answer, and not from our fearfulness, but from spiritual courage? One may not be confirmed in the ability to stand in the truth when a test comes (and everyone who dares thereby dooms himself to this judgment), and yet the truth commands one to testify about oneself fearlessly. And one cannot allow the rejection of war only out of fear, because it is possible - and in fact exists - that it is no less, but more spiritually terrible than war, and yet not so frightening in its threat. It is even permissible to express such a paradox that war can be spiritually less terrible than a world that does not know its burning, but also cleansing fire. In general, we need to overcome the understanding of war as an absolute evil, we need to see and recognize the good in it, of course, only relative, and understand its possibility. If we proceed from the Word of God, then here we are faced with the fact that the Old Testament is fulfilled, one might even say overflowing with recognition and testimony of the holy war in which God Himself fights through His angels and saints. The entire “sacred history” taking place under God’s leadership of the chosen people is, according to the Bible, a series of continuous wars. It represents, one might say, an apotheosis with the opponents of the chosen God-bearing people, in their depths bearing the seed of the incarnation of God, and this alone contains a certain, not only factual, but also ideological justification for the war. It is impossible to make an excuse here by referring to historical age and generally reducing all this to primitive barbarism, even though it would be impossible to deny it. It must simply be said that in this case one would have to reject most of the Old Testament, for the history of the holy war is no less an integral part of it than the law and the prophets. This Old Testament recognition is an amazing fact, and, consequently, the justification for war, which we prefer to brush aside, allowing it only “historically” for the Old Testament. But these wars, being theocratic, in any case have a certain Sophian basis. Therefore, the question arises, so to speak, about the Old Testament sophiology of war, if it is clearly connected with the historical destinies of the theocracy in Israel, these same latter with the Incarnation. Paradoxical as it may seem, the holy wars in the Old Testament, together with the entire Old Testament history, prepare the appearance in the world of the Blessed Virgin Mary as the personal manifestation of Sophia in human nature. Thus, we have to come to the conclusion that wars cannot be eliminated from the Divine plan of incarnation. In order to more fully and deeply understand the meaning of theocratic war, it is necessary to dwell on one more fact from the life of the spiritual world, namely: the warfare of the holy angels, on earth and in heaven. The sword is an unchanging emblem characteristic of the Archangel Michael, who appears to Joshua in the form of a man with a drawn sword, with the words: “I am the leader of the army of the Lord” (Joshua 5:13–14). According to the testimony of the Old Testament, angels fight alongside men (Dan. 10, 13, 20). In this theocratic warfare of angels with people, his Sophian character is clearly imprinted. There are no instructions given in the Word of God regarding the manifestation of this warfare; of course, it belongs primarily to the area of ​​spiritual influence, although figuratively cases of even direct participation in human battle are not excluded, no matter how it is understood: this includes, for example, the beating of the firstborn of Egypt by angels (Ex. 12:29). True, it says here: “The Lord struck down all the firstborn in the land of Egypt,” but, according to biblical usage, this obviously means an angel of God. This also includes the slaughter of 185 thousand of Sennacherib’s horde by an angel (2 Kings 19:35): “and the Lord sent an angel, and he destroyed all the brave men and the commander-in-chief and commanders in the army of the king of Assyria” (2 Chronicles 32:21). The theocratic nature of the war is expressed here quite clearly. But for understanding the sophiology of war, perhaps even more important than this angelic-human army is the understanding of the heavenly confrontation, the war of the Archangel Michael and his angels with Satan and his army: Rev. 12, 7–12. The basis of this war is also indicated here. We are talking about the power of Christ: “now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the power of His Christ have come, because the slanderer of our brethren, who slandered them before God day and night, has been cast down.” Whatever this “slander” in the sky means, it is clear that here we are talking about a clash of two principles, irreconcilable and incompatible with each other. But what can the war of angels mean here? It is said about her that “the angels did not love their souls even to death.” Of course, there can be no talk here of death in the literal sense of disembodied and therefore immortal spirits, but of a state that corresponds to readiness for death, of ultimate sacrifice and fearlessness, of the highest feat and intensity of love for God and the Lamb. Here, too, there can be no talk of cruelty, which is inevitable in human war, but of that spiritual tension that results in the final separation of good and evil, which is expressed in the overthrow of Satan and his angels from heaven. The angelic heaven from now on belongs to angels alone, therefore, angelic life is filled with only divine principles, that is, it is unconditionally sophian. This is, obviously, the highest level of good, the ultimate achievement, which was not given by Divine power (of course, by this power Satan could be cast out of heaven and in addition to the war with the angels), but had to be spiritually conquered. Consequently, war, understood as spiritual sacrifice and tension, is included in the plan of heavenly construction and angelic life. True, this necessity of war, as well as its inevitability, is associated with the rebellion of Satan and the resulting division in the ranks of the heavenly army. There might not have been a war, both on earth and in heaven, apart from this rebellion. However, in this case, some spiritual equivalent of this war remains inevitable, i.e. the creative tension that corresponds to it. Non-creative passivity cannot take place here either, for it does not correspond to the law of the sophia of creation, and this law has equal force in heaven and on earth. And if there is no war in the literal sense, then there remains a war with oneself, in oneself and for oneself, that is, with uncreative passivity for active, creative givenness. This is the meaning of war in heaven. In connection with this, its meaning is revealed on earth - and not even in the Holy Testament Church, but in the Christian Church. War can be a way, or rather, one of the ways to make a creature sophisticated. Otherwise, it cannot be accepted or accepted at all. When discussing the general question of the Sophian meaning of war, one must first set aside the particulars regarding this or that war in its truth and untruth, but take it in a general form - about war as such in history. It is only in such a general historical context that this problem can be posed, because war belongs to history and cannot be excluded from it. Is history as Sophia an apocalypse (for history is an apocalypse)? An idle question, because it already contains the answer. Of course, history is the created Sophia, revealing itself in the development of the world. History in this sense is this formation, the germination of Sophia's seeds of being in its non-being, the meon of being (according to Plato's expression). The meonic character of history lies in the fact that here, in an incomprehensible way, being and non-being (ukon) in becoming are fused: good and evil, beauty and ugliness, yes and no. Therefore, it is impossible to exclude anything from the Sophia existence of history just because it is not perfection, because then the whole history will have to be crossed out. To recognize the sophistic nature of being, on the contrary, one must look in it for those positive principles, apart from which created being does not exist at all. Therefore, it is necessary to highlight such principles in war, although they are combined here with horrors and destruction. War is accompanied by mutual extermination of the warring parties, or rather, it is such. War is also murder, as if contrary to the direct commandment of God: Thou shalt not kill. It is, of course, indisputable that war includes murder, however, not as a goal, but as a means to victory through the “extermination of enemy personnel” along with other means that do not include direct destruction (blockade, captivity). The simplified and tendentious stylization of war wants to see only the direct and only goal in murder. Thus, it simplifies and even eliminates the very problem of the sophistic nature of the war. Evil murder out of personal hatred is, of course, evil and only evil, already due to its goal, namely the destruction of life given by God. Murder cannot be a goal as murder for the sake of murder, and the more conscious and malicious it is, the more sinful it is, and therefore the more antisophic. So, if you see in war what is in it, and not what is not in it, then it cannot be considered as an absolute evil, but first of all it is a disaster or tragedy, which has its justification in inevitability. So, the question is: can the inevitability of war be recognized, that is, its justification as a necessary means in protecting the highest values. This question can be answered in the negative in the only case where human life represents the highest and final value, incomparable with anything, about which it could in no way be said: “do not be afraid of those who kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul” (Matthew 10:28), “and therefore cannot do anything [more]” (Luke 12:4). Earthly life is temporary and subject to illness and all kinds of dangers; most importantly, it is not an end in itself, but must be devoted to some higher purpose or service. This applies to one’s own life, about which it can be said that every person should be ready to sacrifice it for the sake of the highest good (primarily for faith, but also for the homeland, for loved ones, etc.). But this cannot [not] be applied to the life of another, if this other himself gives his life, putting himself in the position of an enemy. If at all there can be a value higher than human life, which is undoubtedly, then there can also be a legitimate, justified state of war as a struggle for this value, and therefore non-resistance to evil is unjustified. The whole question is whether such incompatibility of vital principles fighting among themselves can be recognized. In each case, this question cannot be given an a priori answer, but only an empirical one. However, one can with sufficient grounds affirm the a priori inevitability of the collision and struggle of different principles along the paths of history. This inevitability stems not only from the general nature of the formation of both the historical process of osophia, and from the presence of evil in the world, energy and inertia, and in general the action of original sin: the world lies in evil. In other words, the Sophian process is antinomic and at the same time dialectical in the sense that the presence of antinomy here is not resolved or removed within history, but only outside it (not in the apocalypse, but in eschatology), however, it is dialectically raised to a series of synthetic achievements. Therefore, one cannot even wish for the elimination of historical contradictions and struggle, because this means wishing not for perfection, but for stagnation, decay, hibernation, and a person must be an actor in history on all its paths with all the means lying on them. Not every war is inevitable as such a means, because there may be unnecessary, fruitless and harmful wars (however, just as not every preservation of peace is valuable as such), but it is important to recognize in principle that in history there is, at least, although within certain limits, the inevitability, and to that extent, the justification of war. If war lies on the paths of history, is woven into its fabric, then this means its inclusion in its Sophia plan. It should be understood in this context not as evil, but as tragedy. Although a disaster, it may, however, include the highest good; Moreover, in certain cases this is a good and cannot be achieved in other ways. In judging what can be called the sophistry of war, two sides must be distinguished: the subjective human and the objective historical. Let's start with the first one. It goes without saying that Sophia’s service necessarily presupposes tension and identification of a person’s higher, rather than lower, energies, as well as his gifts. And, first of all, it is sacrificial selflessness - the destruction of one’s soul for the sake of saving it. This is the case in different areas of service, whatever it may be, if only it is truly dedicated to a higher, good goal, and to the extent that it is guided by it. But this is how it is, perhaps to the greatest extent in war, where life and, perhaps even more than that, health are sacrificed. Of course, not every death or wound that cripples a person comes from a free act of sacrifice; in many cases, if not most, we are dealing only with coercion exercised in “universal conscription.” Let us even admit that the feat of self-sacrifice is rather an exception. However, it is precisely based on it that we must make a judgment about value. What is important is that war can give place to self-sacrifice and reveal it; in it, human qualities are tested and tested, first of all in battle, but also in the rear, and all this is done under the greatest tension. In a word, war is characterized by heroism and sacrifice, and, moreover, to an extent that can hardly be compared with any other service. Of course, since this is aimed at crushing the power of the enemy and is expressed in his extermination by all available means, this is a disastrous war. But as far as this applies to the combatants themselves, and to both or, more precisely, to all sides, sacrifice is manifested here, which in a certain sense is the equivalent of love, one of its manifestations. Of course, in human life good and evil are mixed with each other, and this is especially the case in war. But it is important to establish in it the presence of heroism and self-sacrifice as arousing the enthusiasm of fighters. Moreover, these same traits are manifested and cultivated not only on the battlefield, but also in the rear, deep and close. War condemns the entire population of the country to hardship and suffering, and also requires labor and dedication to care for the wounded and sick. If in general service to those suffering from illness is one of the images of self-sacrificing love, especially pleased by the Lord in the speech about the Last Judgment, then when applied to wartime conditions it requires the greatest labor and care, when the whole country turns into a hospital or hospital. It may seem paradoxical, but one should recognize, along with the heroism and selflessness inherent in war, a special idealism, sacrificial service to the ideal, which is not often found in everyday life. War is not fought for the sake of personal interest, which usually guides people in their lives, but for the sake of a common goal. Regardless of what this goal is, its very presence raises the psychology of war above the ordinary level, makes people - often against their will - idealists, instills in them a desire for common goals, and elevates them. True, this, however, indisputable fact can be objected to by citing the opposite, no less indisputable: the decline of morals, savagery, barbarization, everything that usually manifests itself after the war in all life. Here again we have to remember that in humanity good is mixed with evil; if war fosters bad instincts in him, then it also awakens in him uplifting feelings, and it is absolutely impossible (and not necessary) to sum up the pluses and minuses in the overall balance of war. In any case, the tragic shock of life, which is associated with the war, brings a person out of a state of spiritual hibernation, bourgeois equilibrium, and this awakening, at least in a certain way, calls him to a new creativity of life. There is no need to confuse and identify the terrible and difficult, on the one hand, and the bad and decaying, on the other. The energy of war contains such potentialities of new life, which outside of it would be in a dormant state, but are now awakening in their openness to good and evil, to new creativity. In a word, when assessing the subjective side of war, we must refuse to see in it only an image of sheer villainy. Without exaggerating its positive aspects and without belittling its bad ones, we must see in it a kind of tragic action, in which both the higher and lower properties of humanity are manifested in a new force, and this tension also gives the fruit of history in its sophistry. The same must be applied in relation to the objective side of war, its theology. In war, it is usually not personal, but objective goals, in relation to which it is a service, that are pursued. These goals can be different: the crusades for the liberation of the Holy Sepulcher and the war of the northern and southern states, for the liberation of blacks, the last world war due to political competition, economic and colonial wars, the war for liberation from the communist yoke, as well as for its establishment, etc., etc. The reasons, reasons and goals of the war are as varied as the motley fabric of history. Of course, different wars may have different qualifications. The fighting sides confront with different, even simply opposite, assessments of events; each side wants victory, considering itself right, although, of course, the very fact of victory does not in itself testify to this rightness. If “the winners are not judged” in the immediate course of events, where might is right, then they are judged by the supreme court of history, which itself is a revelation of sophia. Therefore, every victory is not the last word of historical truth, it can have as much positive as negative meaning on the paths of the opening Sophia. Here a lot of relativity is used in specific assessments. Mutual rightness here is relative for each of the fighting parties; here we have precisely the struggle of different principles, with each side asserting its rightness and bringing it to the supreme court of history. A historical battle is taking place, which takes place not only in military, but also in spiritual struggle. Man is not given infallibility of judgment at all, but he needs some quasi-infallibility, confidence in his own rightness, without which no action is possible, and the enervating Hamletism remains irresistible. This is how the common cause of history is created, and the faith of this common cause is determined by the level of spiritual and historical consciousness. It is changeable to the point of opposites, ranging from a war of mutual destruction to a war with mortality, which was called for by the herald of the future world Fedorov. But still, war is a way of serving a common cause and as such is a powerful lever of history, shaking the world, but also in some sense renewing it. People are not sighted enough to see the full significance of the war in history, and, consequently, in its sophistry. In such an exceptionally complex historical phenomenon as war, the law of heterogeny of goals manifests itself with the greatest force, which consists in the fact that, along with the direct goal and even contrary to it, but also in connection with it, other, directly unintended results are achieved. However, this is the general manifestation of sophia in history. Man carries within himself, together with the image of God, the calling to reveal in history the beginnings of sophia, but in the struggle against non-existence and evil, in mixing with them. The manifestation of sophia in its pure form is not given to man except through divine inspiration, which brings about the “ecclesiasticalization” of life. The question is whether such a “churchification” of war is also possible through the “Christ-loving army,” or whether war is a minus of good, to which Christianity only says its decisive no. Of course, such a no is said to war as a disaster, as a bloody solution to issues that can, and therefore should, be resolved bloodlessly. Of course, the solution brought by war comes not from the Church, but from the outside, from the life of the world. However, this does not mean that the Church cannot give (although it may not give) its blessing to the war, or at least condoning it, even to the point of allowing the clergy to go to war (although, of course, not of their own free will, but out of loyalty to the state that requires it). At present, all peoples, at least of Christian upbringing, alien to the spirit of war quand même, are looking for a peaceful outcome in difficulties. However, in Pasifism as such there is still no Christian spirit, since war is not the last and always indisputable evil, which can also be found in peace. In general, here, between war and peace, there is no such indisputable choice as between good and evil, for war can be a greater good, or at least a lesser evil, than peace bought at any price. Therefore, in certain cases, peace proposals not only can, but also must be rejected. This is the specific logic of history, although it thereby leads us to heavy personal and social sacrifices. In any case, peace can represent a positive value only when it stems not from weakness or cowardice, but from a sense of truth and duty, and in order to be worthy of a good peace and capable of it, one must be capable of war, which is the possible price of life. In general, from judgments about war and peace, it is necessary to eliminate hedonistic motives, the desire to preserve peace or attachment to comfort, if along with it there is no heroic sacrifice, replaced by relaxation of the will and fear of deprivation. In judgments about the disaster of war, its destruction for the development of culture, the paralysis of science and art, and barbarization in general are indicated everywhere. All this, of course, is indisputable as the consequences of a war that takes into account only its direct goal, “the extermination of the enemy’s manpower.” For this purpose, she is looking for new, more effective means and stops at nothing. This is especially noticeable when war is waged by peoples of different levels of culture, although, unfortunately, at present this difference is increasingly erased. In war, the very instinct to honor cultural values ​​weakens. However, in the question of “justification of war” the comparative value of culture is also not decisive. Culture is not yet the highest value that could be used as a criterion for determining what is acceptable or unacceptable. The calamity of war also includes cultural destruction, which should be avoided at all costs. This is true, just as it is true that barbarization is the greatest evil, threatening the destruction of historical peoples. However, this calamity is not an absolute evil that would be able to eliminate the inevitability of war, once it is recognized as consistent with higher goals. The more significant this misery in the field of economy, culture, civilization, statehood, etc., the more the sacrifice increases to the goals of war, which cannot be retreated from if they are recognized in this case as supreme. War does not stop at any sacrifice in its duty, this is its axiom. Of course, it would be a great happiness for the world if the beginning of war were completely eliminated from it and swords were beaten into plowshares. But for this it is necessary that the microbe of war, its causative agent in the spiritual and human world, be eliminated. This kind of overcoming of him is spoken of in connection with the 1000-year reign of the Apocalypse, during which “Satan was bound for 1000 years” (Rev. 20:2). The victory of pasifiema only for the sake of preserving cultural values, but with general spiritual relaxation, will not be a victory of good, but rather an evasion from the fight for it, adaptation, spiritual opportunism. “Nation will not lift up sword against nation, and they will no longer learn to fight” (Isa. 2:4), for “He (the God of Jacob) will teach us His ways” (3), and “the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea” (11, 9). Only such a victory over war is a true good, pleasing to the Lord. War itself is, first of all, a disaster, and not a sin, although it can be one and, of course, its disaster entails many sins. War is a historical catastrophe, shattering the usual way of life, exploding the frozen crust, from under which molten lava flows. In this sense, war, in all its irrationality and heterogeneity of goals, in its age-old inevitability, which comes from a certain moment, is not only the action of humanity as a free will, in which they look for and relatively easily find the culprit (each side in its own way), but a certain rock, fate, God’s permission, let’s face it, a manifestation of God’s Providence in history. And in the sacred history of the Old Testament this is absolutely clear: the exodus from Egypt and the conquest of the Promised Land, the wars of David, the captivity of Babylon, the destruction of Jerusalem, various wars with one or another outcome according to the direct determination of God, 24 - all this gives the war the character of a predetermined nature, which therefore lends itself to prophetic foresight and prediction. In the New Testament this is less obvious, or even not obvious at all, because it is complicated by human initiative and free self-determination. However, the absence of direct evidence does not mean at all that things would be different here, but that providential determinism would be absent, which makes historical events to a certain extent fate, a kind of historical fate, although this fatalism is connected in an incomprehensible and strange way with free self-determination, human creativity in history. Clear evidence of this is Revelation, this New Testament historiosophy. Here, wars and upheavals are depicted as events that occur simultaneously with the participation of heavenly and earthly forces, while the last war (chapter 19) with the participation of Christ Himself, as well as the action of the seduction of Satan (20), that is, clearly the action of meta-empirical and even meta-historical forces. The philosophy of war, which is contained in Revelation, is not at all reconciled with rationalistic-humanistic pacifism, but forces us to see in war also the action of superhistorical forces penetrating human history. Of course, this very insight is given in images and emblems, rather in apocalyptic schemes than in the pragmatism of history (and attempts to interpret these schemes in relation to specific historical events are a priori erroneous). In the prophetic book of the New Testament, on the one hand, the forces acting in history are defined, and on the other, their maximum capabilities are indicated (the 1000-year kingdom), which can become reality only to the extent of their free implementation. The Apocalypse does not give facts, but only their historiosophical profile. The entire historical tragedy is depicted here as it lies in the depths of history. It is determined by the struggle of spiritual forces in history - good and evil. But here's what's important. Revelation is not only historiosophy, but also the sophiology of history, and it must finally be understood as such. It cannot be otherwise, because the true meaning of history, revealed in its depths, is, of course, the created Sophia, in which the Divine basis of the universe, or Divine Sophia, is the creative, creative principle in the meonic existence of the created world. At the same time, here there is not only the introduction of being into non-being, which is filled with Sophia energies, but also a separation of positive and destructive forces is taking place with the release of the latter to the edge of being, into total darkness, “this is the second death” (Rev. 20, 14). “The prince of this world is cast out” 25 from the world, from existence itself. The Apocalypse is therefore naturally and inevitably the sophiology of war, since it describes the confrontation between the Sophian and anti-Sophian potencies, with the King of kings and Lord of lords seated on a horse at the head of His armies, on the one side, and Gog and Magog, driven by Satan, on the other. Since, without any doubt, human energies and historical events are depicted here, here, obviously, we have the symbolism of the Sofian and anti-Sophian war. Other images and antitheses of the Apocalypse also belong to this symbolism: angels and saints, on one side, and the armies of the beast, on the other; the woman clothed with the sun and the Babylonian harlot sitting on the beast; the beast and the false prophet and the two witnesses to the truth; The 1000-year kingdom as a manifestation in the world of Divine Wisdom and the city of God descending from above, heavenly Jerusalem, and the kingdom of the beast, with the last and final victory of the Sophian fullness of being (chap. 21–22). What is important is not only the general and basic idea, so to speak, of the Sofian dynamics revealed in Revelation, but the basic scheme of the world tragedy, as an apocalyptic, Sofian war that fills all history. This war is, first of all, of course, spiritual, but it would be wrong to limit ourselves only to such an understanding of apocalyptic images, spiritualizing them. On the contrary, events are depicted here, both in heaven and on earth, but taking place in human history, and therefore, the sophiology of war is outlined. Since world history is this dynamics of sophia, one should also see in Revelation the sophiology of war. The sophiology of war contained in Revelation has a pronounced sociological character. Here we are talking not so much about individual personalities (except for two witnesses, it seems that there are none at all), but about spiritual and historical forces that are symbolized in different images. Such images are characterized by the nature of tendencies or patterns that generalize individual actions, although they do not abolish them... They express fate, fate, regularity, social formation, in which it is not individuals who act, but what stands above individuals or behind them. This does not remove personal responsibility and does not eliminate individual initiative, but it strongly emphasizes their social cohesion, which is visible behind the atomizing individualism. This connection is the conductor of that common connection that introduces a super-individual element into personal destinies. Such is war, which is a highly social phenomenon, not only uniting, but to a certain extent also absorbing the principles of personal action. The latter can never be completely absorbed, with the complete abolition of personal responsibility and will, but here the social principle clearly appears, which sometimes takes on demonic and bestial features, but is capable of containing the opposite, like some kind of fusible form or transparent vessel. This is where all the weakness of rationalistic and individualistic pacifism stems, which does not know the strength of the whole. It is not without reason that such a whole in apocalypticism is invariably described by the features of a living being, a spiritual organism. But this very integrity in relation to personal, individual existence has the character of a given, which becomes inevitable to accept, and, therefore, to obey it. This is where the character of war as fate or destiny comes from. In the end, the issue of war and peace is decided not by personal will and understanding, but somehow on top of them, although this does not prevent individuals from being exponents of this super-personal instinct or inspiration. Then they become leaders of nations, and personal responsibility for the war falls on them. However, in addition to their well-known personal talent, they are more destined to be an advertisement for history, its engines. The extent of this personal influence may vary, but the important thing is that super-individual forces operate in history, determining historical destinies. Here we encounter again the idea of ​​historical regularity, which was born in modern sociology (in particular, in Marxism) in connection with the problem of historical foresight and prediction. This idea is nothing more than a rationalistic translation of apocalypticism into the language of abstract concepts, and what is depicted here as living and internally connected turns out to be mechanized there, subordinate to sociological necessity. However, there remains a fundamental similarity in both cases in that a super-individual path of history is established, in which individuals are included only as atoms, while the real reality belongs to the whole, the collective. But here is what is important in the religious historiosophy that we have in the prophetic style - apocalypticism in general and the New Testament Apocalypse in particular: here these achievements are accepted not only as common destinies, but also providential actions, God's judgments on history. In this sense, the content of the New Testament Revelation is instructive. First of all, the entire content of history in the destinies of the future is depicted as a book in the right hand of Him who sits on the throne (in the general context - the Creator and Almighty, Rev. 4, 2–3, 11; 5, 6–7), “written within and without, sealed with seven seals” (5, 1). This book is taken from the hands of Him who sits on the throne by the Lamb, that is, the God-man, and His power to take the book, that is, to direct the destinies of the world, is recognized in heaven and on earth (9-13). The Lamb sequentially opens each of the seven seals, which correspond to various acts of historical tragedy in different images: four horsemen bringing disasters to the earth (in particular, the second horseman on a red horse, “and to him who sat on him it was given to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another, and a great sword was given to him” - 6, 4, and the fourth horseman on a pale horse, “whose name was death, and hell followed him, and power was given to him over the fourth part of the earth to kill with the sword, and with hunger, and with pestilence, and with the beasts of the earth” - 6, 8). All these images contain prophecies or spiritual foresights, as it was said to the seer who ate the book at the command of an angel: “you must again prophesy about peoples and tribes and languages ​​and many kings” (10, 11). This is the vision of seven angels with trumpets, and the voice of each of them is accompanied by corresponding disasters (chap. 8-9, 11, 15). Next come the images of the kingdoms of the earth - the beast, to which “it was given to make war with the saints and overcome them, and power was given to him over every tribe, and people, and tongue, and nation” (13, 7), as well as “another beast” that deceives with great signs and wonders (13, 11, 14); finally, there follow “seven angels having the seven last plagues, with which the wrath of God ends” (15, 1; 16). The beast and the kings with him “will make war with the Lamb, and He will overcome them” (17:14). This is followed by the fall of Babylon (18), after which the victorious battle of the Lamb and His angels with the beast and the kings of the earth takes place (19, 11-21). It will be followed, after the 1000-year reign of Christ on earth, by the uprising of Gog and Magog and the final battle with them, followed by the end of history and judgment (20, 7-15). The last chapters 21–22 are devoted to metahistory, eschatological achievements, the descent of heavenly Jerusalem to earth and the accession of Christ in His kingdom. We will not dwell on individual images of the entire apocalyptic scheme; we will highlight only the guiding ideas that are important for our problem of the sophiological understanding of war. The first thing that strikes here is that wars and other disasters are definitely the destinies of Providence, sent in connection with corresponding human actions and self-determinations. From here we necessarily come to the conclusion that history is not only created by people in their freedom, but it is also made from above, as the fulfillment of the will of God, in response to this freedom. The result is a kind of synergy, in which, however, the participation of both sides is not equal, for the final paths of history are determined by the command of God. From here follows a very important distinction regarding what in history is historical fate, determination, and what is a matter of human freedom. This ratio remains unchanged for different eras of history, since history is a divine-human process in which God acts in man and through man. This also matters for the comprehension of war in which it exists, or rather, it can be as much the fault of man as it is the judgment of the “wrath of God” or generally the action of Providence, for although it is a disaster, it is not yet an unconditional evil, or at least may not be one. At least in the depiction of the Apocalypse, that is, already in the New Testament Revelation (to which chapters 24–25 of the Gospel of Matthew correspond) war is depicted not only as a human affair, but also as an act of God’s Providence, its allowance. And to that extent, the responsibility for the war exceeds the personal strengths and capabilities of individuals, who are already instruments of the highest will. Pragmatically, we can, of course, look for and find the culprit or culprits of the war, the “aggressors” (for example, in the person of Hitler and others like him). Without diminishing their guilt and their significance in this sad set of circumstances that led to war, although everyone wanted to avoid it in every possible way, it should still be said that war is not only committed by people as their personal sin and crime, but also occurs as fate, historical fate, God's allowance. And in this latter sense, being a disaster, it is also a relative blessing, at least it can become such by the power of God's Providence. In the journalistic empirical interpretation of events, the idea of ​​the action of God's Providence in such matters and events that are of a super-personal nature and are not only done by people, but also happen to them, is too easily lost. In this respect, they are similar to other disasters that occur over humanity: pestilence, famine, cowardice, flood, etc. They must be attributed either to the realm of evil that is inexplicably inexplicable to reason, or in them, no matter how incomprehensible it may be, one must affirm by faith the highest expediency, although not revealed in this century. So, events defined by Divine determinism, as actions of the will of God, contain the highest purposiveness. Their meaning may remain inaccessible to man for some time, appearing before him as fate or evil fate, whereas they are the essence of the actions of God. This is the content of Revelation. However, they can and should be perceived in their relation to humanity, so to speak, anthropomorphically, even if incompletely and one-sidedly, only in relation to human understanding. And in this sense, the fate of humanity is God’s judgment over it, of course, not the final and terrible judgment that comes after the end of history, but preliminary and historical. Everyone looks at these mysterious writings of events in their own way, seeing in them judgment and punishment or admonition. Such are modern events: are they not for us an expression of God’s wrath at the bourgeois materialism of our era, manifested in different ways both in capitalism and in socialism and communism, at its godlessness and idolatry, for nationalism and totalitarianism, for militarism with the enslavement of the weak, etc., etc. All this is now exposed by life itself in its lies and destructiveness. Of course, not everyone will heed this judgment; there is still room for freedom of human perception. Some people want to ignore the meaning of events and turn away from them in fear. After the great earthquake and shaking of all nature (Rev. 6, 12-14), “the kings of the earth and the great, and the rich, and the captains and the mighty, and every slave and every free man, hid in the caves and gorges of the mountains, and said to the mountains and stones: fall on us and hide us from the face of Him who sits on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb” (6, 15-16). However, people who did not die from the plagues “repented not of the works of their hands, so as not to worship demons and idols of gold, silver, copper, stone and wood... and they did not repent of their murders, nor of their sorcery, nor of their fornication, nor of their theft” (Rev. 9:20-21). On the contrary, in response to the sorrowful trials, only “the pagans became furious” (11, 18). And even when the kingdom of the beast became gloomy, people “bit their tongues from suffering and blasphemed the God of Heaven from their suffering and did not repent of their deeds” (16, 10-11). According to the symbolism of the Apocalypse, an agreement takes place between historical figures (seven heads - seven kings, ten horns - ten kings, who “have the same thoughts and will transfer their strength and power to the beast” - 17, 9-13). They “will hate the harlot and destroy her... because God has put it in their hearts to do His will, to do one will and to give their kingdom to the beast, until the words of God are fulfilled” (16–17). The ways of God are fulfilled even through the thoughts and deeds of those who make war with the Lamb, as well as with those “who are with Him, those who are called and chosen and faithful” (14). In a word, the lessons of Divine pedagogy are perceived unequally by different people. However, for those who are capable of spiritual growth, they become a source of admonition, first of all as a punishment of God’s judgment, and then the revelation of His truth. Only God owns the power and reason of punishment: “Vengeance is mine and I will repay,” but people are capable of judging only post factum. But they must be enlightened by the thunder of events and read the book of God’s destinies, which are its writings. This is how the tragedy of history is outlined. War, first of all, means the tangible approach of death, which also gives a deepened tragic feeling of life. A person involuntarily frees himself from ordinary worldliness. The organ of sophia, the sense of the divine in the world and in history, awakens in him. The solemn ringing of eternity begins to sound in the soul. Of course, this sense of God fights and mixes with the roar of the animal kingdom. War is an organized brutality at least as much as it is an enthusiasm for sacrifice. But sophia as the revelation of created Sophia in history is the same confrontation between light and darkness. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot embrace it.” The era of war is an intense revelation of history with its light and shadow, greatness and baseness. War is a destructive element, a fire, a catastrophe. She, of course, therefore assumes the previous construction of history, in which the positive revelation of sophia is manifested. However, history cannot be built without tragedy if two forces are fighting in it, irreconcilable with each other. In war, the depths of man are revealed to him, as in any great trial. In the special intensity of history, which is characteristic of the era of war, the main spiritual fruit is the change that takes place in human souls. It is known only to the Providence of God in its ways. Here the pages of history are revealed and turned over, a new maturity begins, although it is bought at a high price. It is not war itself, of course, that is the revelation of the Wisdom of God, but in it and through it it inscribes its inscriptions in man. All human life and history is the unity of the Divine and created Sophia, the sophization of creation, for which history is the path, while war is history par excellence. The Divine principle, the Wisdom of God, is revealed in man not only in its direct inspirations, revealed in the creativity of the spirit, but also in the trials and teachings of life experience. War, like catastrophes and misfortunes in life in general, is characterized not by a positive, but by a negative revelation, through combustion, destruction, shock. Sophia was primarily the history of Israel, and not only in prophetic revelations, but also in trials, not only in the sacred books, law and cult, but also in the Egyptian captivity, the Babylonian captivity, holy wars and disasters. The prophets were not only messengers of the Will of God, but also leaders of their people - Moses, David, Isaiah, Solomon, Jeremiah, Daniel. Therefore, let us not be overcome by cowardice and, as it were, abandoned by Divine Wisdom. Sophia is the God-human, divine-created beginning. Created nature lives in him with all its strength, although, being transparent and permeable to the divine, it becomes his revelation even in those cases when it seems to resist him. It can never and under no circumstances extinguish its inner light, which shines in darkness and cannot be enveloped by this darkness. In a series of events that develop with natural necessity, the destinies of God are revealed and Divine possibilities are opened. Sophia is never interrupted or extinguished in the nature of history. There are no layers or events in it that would be completely empty of its revelation or, on the contrary, would be entirely filled by it alone (except for direct Divine revelation, the content of the sacred books, which, however, is also clothed with historical veils). The genealogy of Christ consists of kings and kingdoms of very different, even opposite natures and, however, it is thoroughly permeated with the God-bearing principle. To a certain extent, it depends on us to comprehend this content of revelation both in horrors and disasters, to realize it in ourselves and serve it. Therefore, in the hour of trial, let our loins be girded and our lamps burning. In us, may our faith in the Divine Sophia, revealed in the world, not waver, and may our vision not be darkened for her vision. On the contrary, let new historical upheavals lead us to a new comprehension of the truth. The spiritual fruit that is born through them is a new appearance of Christ for us and a new appearance of the Mother of God - the incarnate and embodying Wisdom of God. This is a possible and desirable outcome of the war in its sophistry, by which its bestiality can be overcome and abolished. And is it only in war alone that this bestial principle manifests itself, and is the well-being of the world, immersed in limited earthly sensuality, alien to it? Or sometimes it is better to break this limitation and overcome absorption. We do not dare boldly call for tragedy, but even less can we deny it when it is sent. What is required of us is to face tragic destinies with Sophia’s faith and dignity. And then the sun will not be eclipsed, but will rise in our souls, and the work of history that God wants from us will be accomplished. Co-dying with Christ is somewhat self-evident as the discovery of a personal connection with Him for an individual. But this connection of co-dying is realized for all humanity, not only in personal destiny, but also in universal destiny. Therefore, one is involuntarily perplexed as to how this personal and common co-dying with Christ, which is so essential for human life, is compatible. This abstract question receives concrete expression in events such as, for example, an epidemic and especially a war with its widespread mutual extermination. Can it be combined with personal co-dying with Christ? However, this question does not require or allow an answer. In fact, does its difficulty lie in the number of dying people, who may therefore turn out to be incompatible, so to speak, with this co-dying with Christ, as if it were feasible only in cases of a single death? But this is an absurd and naive idea. All humanity dies with Christ and in Christ, although in different ways and in different senses, and in this there is and cannot be any exception, for such would thereby be excluded from humanity itself. You can also ask yourself how these many and different images of dying, both simultaneously and at different times, can be contained in Christ and in co-dying with Him. But this is also a puzzling question. There are no boundaries for the humanity of Christ; it contains all of its images, and in particular all the images of dying, both quantitatively and qualitatively. If for us massacres on the battlefield are filled with especially stunning horror, as a deliberate and exceptional manifestation of death with its triumph, then in the order of intense, so to speak, co-dying there is no such difference. Christ co-dies equally with humanity in every person. This leads to the paradoxical conclusion that death in war is not more deadly than any other death. It can only have different spiritual shades for itself in accordance with the state of warring humanity, in life, and to that extent in death. So, Christ co-dies equally - inseparably and unmerged with each individual person and with all humanity. Bulgakov's memory error: Jairus, whose daughter Jesus Christ resurrected (Mark 5:23), was not a military man, but one of the leaders of the synagogue. This refers to the Gospel episode with the healing of the centurion’s servant (a commander over a hundred soldiers) from a fatal illness (Matthew 8:5–13; Luke 7:1–10). In socio-political relations in which war is being prepared, it is difficult to make an absolute judgment. Bolshevism in Russia, represented by its rulers, represents the satanic beginning of lies and hatred in the world. So be it. And now the world is trembling in the face of the union and unification of both “leaders”: Hitler and Stalin. And yet, can we forget that only recently representatives of two “democracies” fought in Moscow, seeking an alliance with one of them (of course, against the other)? Now they are in great anger that the Moscow Sultan turned his merciful gaze not to the west, but to the east, having concluded an alliance with Hitler. Who is more truthful and better? Or is it getting worse? Of course, neither one nor the other, or rather, both. In the language of the Bible, this is expressed verbally by designating peoples with their own names: Israel, Assur, etc., which is, in any case, more than a metaphor, but points to some reality. The Israeli military leader Ievthai (Jephthah), after defeating his enemies, sacrificed his only daughter to God as a burnt offering (Judges 11:30–40). Bulgakov’s work “The Sophiology of Death” was first published in the journal “Vestnik RHD”, 1978, No. 127. 1979, No. 128. For a modern re-edition of “The Sophiology of Death”, see the book: Bulgakov S.N. Quiet thoughts. M., 1996. pp. 273–306. Bulgakov's work under this title has not been published. However, perhaps the work “Holy Grail” is meant. See: Gen. 6, 3. “And the Lord said: My spirit will not forever be despised by men; because they are flesh..." The accepted translation of this verse is “...with... full faith.” “Rejoice, heavenly ladder, from which God descended. Rejoice, bridge, bring those who are from earth to heaven" (Akathist to the Mother of God, Ikos 2). From the troparion of the Feast of the Dormition of the Blessed Virgin Mary. King Gog and the country of Magog (according to legend - 7th century BC) are mentioned in the book of the prophet Ezekiel (38, 2; 39, 1) as opponents of Israel, who defeated their multi-tribal army. In the prophecies of the Apocalypse, this is the name given to “the nations located at the four corners of the earth” (“their number is like the sand of the sea”) and opposing the “camp of saints” and the city of Jerusalem after the expiration of the “thousand-year kingdom” (Rev. 20:7). The first stanza of Gumilev’s poem “Death” (1915; according to the poet’s note, “written in early October at the front”). Included in the book of poems “Quiver” (1916). Ancient horror (lat.). Apparently, an allusion to the title of L. Bakst’s painting (on the plot of the destruction of Atlantis), about which Vyach. Ivanov wrote an article under the same title (see: Vyach. Ivanov. According to the stars. St. Petersburg. 1909). – Commentary by V.V. Sapov. The title of the treatise by V. S. Solovyov (1897). This is what the Lord says to His anointed Cyrus: “I hold your right hand, so that I may subdue the nations to you” and further (Isa. 45: 1-3; 2 Chron. 36: 23). Wed. Dan. Ch. 2, 3–4.