Maxim Grek
Максим Грек
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Contents Introduction Chapter I. Life and creativity 1. In Italy and on Mount Athos 2. “Maxim the Philosopher” in Russia 3. The fate of the heritage Chapter II. Enlightenment of his brothers 1. Translator and commentator 2. Polemicist and denouncer of ignorance 3. The unity of logos and sophia Chapter III. Moral experience of existence 1. What is philosophy? 2. The root of evil is “love of money” 3. The dialectic of good and evil Chapter IV. Philosophical understanding of society 1. Criticism of “disorder” 2. The ideal of social order 3. The meaning of history Chapter V. Ontology and epistemology 1. The image of the universe 2. Man as a microcosm 3. The spirit of truth paraclete Conclusion Appendix of an extract from the works of Maxim the Greek [Definition of philosophy] [Philosophy “external” and “internal”] [University of Paris] ["Priesthood and kingdom"] [The human mind] [Conversation of soul and mind] [Conversation of mind and soul] [Against astrology] [Grammar as the threshold of philosophy] [Image of Sophia the Wisdom] [Plato] Literature
In March 1553, the young and full of strength Tsar Ivan Vasilyevich the Terrible suddenly fell ill with a serious “fire disease” (see 96, 73, 230). It seemed his days were numbered. Some of the boyars swear allegiance to Tsarevich Dimitri, the heir to the throne, and the Staritsky princes, close relatives of the tsar, are preparing to seize the throne in the event of Ivan’s death. Anxious days are coming when, at the bedside of a seriously ill sovereign, the question of power over a great power, of possible changes in the domestic and foreign policy of Russia, of the fate of many undertakings of the untimely death of the twenty-two-year-old energetic ruler of the country is being decided.
But the crisis has passed, Tsar Ivan Vasilyevich is recovering and, in gratitude for the miraculous deliverance from the imminent death that was already at his doorstep, he sets off with his first beloved wife. Anastasia and baby Dimitri to the Kirillov Monastery, hundreds of miles north of Moscow, to bow to the founder of the monastery, Kirill Belozersky, for his help in healing the soul and body. A king who has made a vow during illness considers himself obligated to fulfill his duty, despite all the hardships of a long and difficult journey.
Along the way, the royal family with a large retinue stops for three days at the Trinity - Sergius Monastery. All the great princes and kings are closely connected with this famous monastery, for since the time of its founder Sergius of Radonezh, who inspired Dmitry Donskoy to defend his native land, it has served as a kind of spiritual center, a support for the rulers of the Russian state. Ivan the Terrible will visit here many times during his stormy life. He was first brought here shortly after birth, where, after performing the baptismal rite, he was placed on Sergius’ shrine, thus performing a deeply symbolic act of introducing the future “sovereign of all Rus'” to the spiritual patronage of the saint, revered as the intercessor of the Moscow state, “may he be his mentor and protector in the dangers of life” (66, 98).
On one of the three days of his stay “at Trinity”, the king meets with the monk Maxim the Greek, who was living out the last years of his difficult life there, and enjoyed honor and respect. “And in that monastery at that time lived Maxim the Reverend, who is considered to be the holy Mount Athos Vatapeda monastery, a Greek by birth, a very wise man, and not only much in the art of rhetoric, but also a skilled philosopher, and already anointed in excellent old age…” (78, st. 207). The elder advises the king not to go on a long journey, “especially with his wife and newborn child,” since he sees no point in this trip. And as for the vow given by the king, then “such vows are made with the mind of our prayers.” It is not the business of the ruler of a country to waste time on pilgrimage trips to distant monasteries. Let him let the monks pray for him, but if he wants to do a good deed, let him better take care of the widows and orphans of the soldiers who fell on the battlefield, of whom there were especially many after the recent Kazan campaign.
By this he will truly fulfill his duty both to people and to God, who “is everywhere, does everything and sees everywhere with his watchful eye.”
Maxim warns the Tsar: “And if... you listen to me, you will be healthy and have many years of life, with your wife and children.” But the proud Ivan stood his ground, “like a proud man, stubborn, just “go and go,” he said, to Saint Cyril.” The sovereign is incited to this by “caressing him and setting him on fire” by self-interested monks - money-grubbers, hoping to “lure away estates to the monastery or a lot of wealth.” These false advisers, servilely pleasing the king, push him onto the wrong path. And when the elder sees that the sovereign “disdained his advice and rushed to a hopeless journey,” he, filled with a prophetic spirit, for the blood of the fallen soldiers, for the tears of orphans and widows forgotten by the ungrateful warrior, predicts to him the death of his son on the way, which is what happens. And the king returned from his Trip “in many sorrows to Moscow” (ibid., st. 208–218). This is how his “Kirilov ride” ended.
Although this meeting is not described anywhere except in the memoirs of Prince Kurbsky, who accompanied the tsar on the trip (the prince himself insists that “he heard those words from the saint”), it invariably attracts the attention of both contemporaries and later descendants. Under the pen of the disgraced prince, who knew well the character of the king and treated the wise old man with deep respect, the meeting of the two great men of that era takes on a deeply symbolic and edifying meaning, for here the power of power, commanding millions of people, and the power of spirit, which has no less influence, collided; The will of the monarch, who knows no barriers, overwhelmed by external piety, and the will of the monk, imbued with the spirit of truth, subordinate to the law of love, came together in a moral duel. And it was not force that won, but truth, not the autocrat, but the thinker.
Perhaps their meeting did not happen like that at all. That's not important. Images created by the imagination sometimes have a much greater impact on the minds and hearts of people than the meticulously reproduced facts of reality, but only if they have generalizing power, meet cherished aspirations, and show a dramatic clash of irreconcilable principles. After all, the images of Hamlet, Faust, Raskolnikov have much more meaning for us than the real life stories of a Danish prince, a German alchemist, a Russian student or their prototypes.
The problem of the relationship between power and justice, statehood and morality is one of the universal philosophical problems. The ruler and the sage are rarely united in the ideal “philosopher on the throne”, which the enlighteners of many times and peoples dreamed of, but the problem of rational power has existed for centuries. And the prosperity, stability, and very existence of the society in which rulers, sages, and all other people live depend on how reasonable the government is. That is why Maxim the Greek praises Alexander the Great, educated by the no less great Aristotle, as an ideal ruler, as “a great and glorious king” (5, l. 18).
The meeting between Maxim the Greek and Ivan the Terrible was not a separate episode in their lives. The thinker repeatedly turns to the tsar with the hope of enlightening the young ruler, for he well understands Plato’s thought, which is set out in the ancient Russian “Bee” translated from Greek, which contained the sayings of the wise: “It is fitting for one who receives great power to have a great mind” (104, 104). Several messages from Maxim to Ivan the Terrible have been preserved, but the most significant is the work entitled “The chapters are instructive to those in command of the faithful” (1548), specially created to admonish the young sovereign who had recently ascended the throne. “Of all the attempts at moral influence on the young tsar, Maxim’s “Chapters” stand out decisively. Nowhere has the question of power been raised to such an ideological height and received such coverage” (102, 72).
Neither the Tsar’s confessor Sylvester, who, trying to intimidate an impressionable young man with “miracles,” did not do without “moral crookedness,” nor Metropolitan Macarius, the head of the Russian Church, whose instructions “were not distinguished by sufficient breadth and strength,” can compare with the Greek, who raises issues of socio-political significance to the level of high philosophical understanding.
In this essay, the thinker paints the image of a “true king,” who “through truth and goodness” creates a fair order in the state. But before ruling over subjects who are entirely dependent on his power, the sovereign should curb himself, his passions and sinful thoughts. Based on the etymology of the word “autocrat” (which is very characteristic of him as a philosophizing philologist), Maxim interprets this concept as a person’s ability to control himself, as the ability to control himself. This idea is consonant with the idea of Socrates, who believed that “only one who has learned to govern himself... can command others and be a statesman” (122, 542).
Three main sinful passions threaten, according to the Greek, any person, but they are the most dangerous for the ruler, for he is visible to everyone and much depends on his behavior: “lust, love of fame and love of money.” “Lust for voluptuousness” is understood as “insatiable gratification of the belly... and hypogastric bestial lusts,” which reduces a person to the level of an animal. “Love of fame” seems to be a social vice when someone begins “to try to do everything to please people, but always receives glory and praise from them.” He who loves glory looks complacent while he is being praised, but if he sees himself “being ridiculed by some,” then, “putting aside meekness, he rages uncontrollably” and in all ways “seeks the harshest revenge on those who do not praise him.”
But the most dangerous vice, which is the root of others and infects the entire being of a person, is the thirst for wealth: “And for all the evil, the root of the love of money is fierce...” There is no end to the pursuit of the golden calf, for the sake of it a greedy person is ready for any crime; hide with theft, untruth, covetousness, and slander and offend, but never take fullness, and have all their trust and hope in their own treasures...” (14, 2, 180). Dante depicts these universal human vices in the form of three animals: a voluptuous lynx, a proud lion and a greedy she-wolf, preventing the ascent to the hill of salvation (see Hell, I, 31–60).
Only the one who has overcome the destructive passions is truly an autocrat “to himself and to those under him,” and the one who submits to them is like a slave, for, according to the Gospel expression, “everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin.” And what could be more shameful, more absurd and illegal than a ruler possessed by passions and deeply fallen, so highly exalted in his position, the thinker believes. To prevent this from happening, in order to “acquire the kindness of the intelligent soul,” the sovereign needs to have a “wonderful and willing adviser.” Communication with wise and highly moral mentors “instructs our thoughts,” while bad advice, “the conversation of the evil,” destroys a person and is capable of “darkening and corrupting him to the end.” In conclusion, Maxim turns to the authority of “Menander the Philosopher” (a fairly common method for him of using the ancient heritage), so that the young sovereign, having overcome three destructive passions, turns to three saving virtues: “truth”, “chastity” and “meekness”.
These virtues are understood by the Greek not only in moral terms, but also as civic virtues, as unique principles of legality. “Pravda” is interpreted as a just court, “which does not look at the face of the litigants, it accepts less than a bribe.” “Chastity” is like “pure cohabitation,” a legal marriage, which was later trampled upon by the depraved king.
“Meekness” towards subjects must be combined with “intimidation of the sovereign,” but not “to destroy” them, but “to correct” them (see 14, 2, 184). In one of the manuscripts of the mid-16th century, which textually does not completely coincide with the printed edition, the words of “Menander the Philosopher” end with a significant maxim: “Whose power rules by these three virtues, in reality the king is Orthodox, the image of the heavenly king himself is animated” (4, l. 423).
Ideal government, according to Maxim the Greek, includes both moral and ethical principles and social justice. “From here, autocracy receives two meanings: firstly, it denotes the tsar’s compliance with the moral ideal in general; and secondly, it indicates that the king submits to the principle of legality and carries it out in his administration of the state” (32, 264). This is one of the first attempts to limit autocratic power during its formation.
In the first years of his reign, when the young sovereign carried out reforms that were progressive for those times, he seemed to listen to the advice of the “skilled philosopher” Maxim. However, the temptation of unlimited power, which has turned into the grave sin of autocracy - tyranny, turns out to be stronger. Ivan the Terrible gradually becomes a despot who does not tolerate any objections and begins to ruin his own country, organizing bloody pogroms and brutal executions. He destroys himself as a person, brings the ruling Rurik dynasty to degeneration, and Russia, after successes in the first years of his reign, gradually falls into a severe crisis, which almost led to the loss of independence in the era of the “Time of Troubles.”
And another adviser helped the tsar become a tyrant, about whom Kurbsky also speaks in his “History of the Grand Duke of Moscow.” During the same trip to the Kirillo-Belozersky monastery, Ivan the Terrible had another, no less significant meeting with another monk, the monk of the Nikolo-Pesnoshsky monastery on Yakhroma, Vassian Toporkov, a Josephite, deposed from his post as Bishop of Kolomna “for guile and hardness of heart.” He, according to Kurbsky, gives the Tsar the following advice: “And if you want to be an autocrat, do not keep for yourself a single wiser adviser, since you yourself are the best of all; Thus you will be strong in the kingdom, and you will have everyone in your hands. And if you have the wisest near you, you will obey them when necessary.” Ivan enthusiastically accepts this “satanic syllogism”, which sinks deeply into his soul: “The king kissed his hand and said: “Oh, if my father were alive, he would not have told me such a useful verb!” (78, st. 212).
Of course, as researchers wittily note, secret speeches are not spoken so that they become known to someone, and it is unlikely that Kurbsky clearly heard these words, even if he stood at the door of the cell where the secret conversation was taking place. The point, again, is not what words were spoken to the young sovereign and by whom, but that in Ivan’s soul it was not the wise and moral principle that prevailed, but the thirst for unlimited power, the desire to become above the law and morality, to subordinate all his subjects to his autocratic will, to make them obedient, weak-willed, patient slaves. And this had tragic consequences both for the king and for the entire country, which is already an indisputable historical fact: “... such a godless spark was planted in the heart of the Christian king, from which such a fire was kindled throughout the entire Svyatorsky land” (ibid., st. 216).
Ivan the Terrible can be accused of many sins, but the fact that he was a poorly educated, limited and short-sighted person cannot be accused. He himself was a writer and thinker and therefore valued wisdom, including its political application. It is no coincidence that, knowing the authority of Maxim, remembering the insight of the Athos resident, he turns to him with a proposal to come to the council convened in October of the same 1553 to expose the heretic Matvey Bashkin, who “torn up” the enslavement records of his slaves and set them free in the name of “evangelical love for one’s neighbor,” and also denied a number of dogmas of the Orthodox Church (see 121, 7, 135). If the elder cannot come, the king writes, then let him at least send scripture “on the current atrocity.” But, taught by bitter experience and remembering previous persecutions, when he himself was considered a heretic, Maxim avoids going to Moscow, citing his advanced years and poor health, although the tsar promises not to recall old accusations and not to confuse him with apostates from the right faith.
Maxim knows too well the nature of an autocratic ruler and the value of his word to gullibly go to trial, similar to the one to which he himself was subjected in his time.
Who was this extraordinary monk, who expressed such deep and bold thoughts, imbued with such a sense of moral dignity, whose opinion was listened to by Russian autocrats, who was revered in Russia as a “wonderful philosopher,” whose works were carefully copied by hand, and who went down in history under the sonorous name Maxim the Greek?
Chapter I. Life and creativity
The real name of the thinker is Mikhail Trivolis. The Catholic researcher I. Denisov managed to establish this as a result of many years of research, a comparative analysis of handwriting, and a comparison of various evidence, both published earlier and that he himself found in the archives of France, Italy, and Greece (see 136). It turned out that the humanist (by no means of the “second category”) Mikhail Trivolis who lived in Italy, the monk of the Vatopedi monastery on Mount Athos Maxim Trivolis and the prominent Russian public figure Maxim Grek are one and the same person. According to Academician D.S. Likhachev, this scientific discovery is “a brilliant example of identifying three authors based on several heterogeneous characteristics...” (82, 323).
The noble family of Trivolis, from which Maximus comes, is well known in Greece; he was close to the last ruling Byzantine dynasty of the Palaiologos; one of the Greek’s ancestors was the Patriarch of Constantinople (see 136, 119). In Russian legends, the thinker is called “the son of the governor,” which speaks of a noble origin. His parents, Manuel and Irina, are characterized in them as pious people and “philosophers,” which in the ambiguous semantics of this term meant “well-educated, enlightened people who knew a lot about wise conversations and books.”
The year of birth of Mikhail Trivolis is unknown. In various studies, it is indicated in the range from 1470 to 1480. But I. Denisov, obviously, is closer to the truth, claiming that Mikhail was born around 1470. The researcher supports his opinion by citing a document he found - a ballot about voting for the Great Council of Corfu, dated 1490–1491. Among the unelected candidates is the name of Mikhail Trivolis (see ibid., 84–86, planches I-II).
Undoubtedly, the parents gave their only son an excellent education, as far as was possible in Arta, the thinker’s homeland, conquered by the Turks. Classical Greek training presupposed a good training in the humanities, especially in the fields of philology and philosophy. His uncle Demetrius, who was “a friend of Thomas Palaiologos, brother of the last emperor, Constantine XI, and father-in-law of Ivan III of Moscow” (139, 16–17), had an excellent library, the inventory of which was compiled by John Lascaris, who came from Florence in search of ancient manuscripts on behalf of Lorenzo de’ Medici and examined many Greek book depositories, including on Athos, from where he safely removed about 200 manuscripts (see 40, 23).
Demetrius’s library also contained philosophical books: Plato, Aristotle, Plotinus, Pletho, etc. He himself copied the works of Plato (see 136, 122), the study of which, especially in the original language, represents a high school of inspired philosophizing, immersing one in the element of enlightened reason. According to B. Bougaevsky, “Plato served for spiritual pleasure, but not for everyday reality” (85, XII). Later, already in Russia, Maxim will write the following lines about him: “Plato is the first external philosopher, either learned from God-inspired scriptures, or from the verbal light, first implanted in humanity, enlightened by reason...” (14, 2, 296). Most researchers note the spiritual closeness of the Greek to Plato and the Platonic tradition in philosophy, which, of course, was formed already in the mature years of the thinker.
Around 1480, young Trivolis moved to the island of Corfu (now the island of Kerkyra), which was part of the possession of the Venetian Republic. Thus begins Michael's geographical and spiritual movement to the West. This odyssey, which lasted more than twenty years (before leaving for Athos in 1505) and took place during his formative years as a person, undoubtedly had an indelible influence on the inner world of the thinker. I. Denisov in his book “Maxim the Greek and the West” tries to present him exclusively as an “apostle of Western civilization,” whose light could not immediately dispel the darkness of barbaric Russia, but sacrificially served to gradually awaken it from its medieval sleep. The Eurocentrism of such a point of view is obvious: in this part of the generally conscientious work of the Catholic historian, his “political and confessional bias” appears (68, 295).
At the same time, to assume that the West taught Trivolis nothing, that in his return to the East he threw off everything he had experienced and learned in Renaissance Italy, the most advanced country in Europe at that time, where he learned a lot “from reliable Italian men, they have a fairly lively time, still young, holding on to a worldly life” (14, 3, 123), as easily removable husk, it would be illegal. He saw and understood a lot in the West, including the fact that the beginning of capitalist progress has its negative sides: the triumph of the golden calf, egocentrism and amoralism of the individual, which the publicist Maxim the Greek will so resolutely oppose. Italy shocked him with its debauched morals, for at this time it “became a school of vices, the like of which we have not seen anywhere since, even in the era of Voltaire in France” (30, 7, 193). At the same time, he saw in the originals masterpieces of painting, architecture, and plastic arts; he could not help but hear the wonderful music of that time - he saw the highest rise of the great art of the Renaissance.
The whole complexity of the nature of the thinker, who went through the temptation of individualism of the early bourgeois consciousness, through the strict asceticism of monastic life, through the difficult crucible of unjust persecution and many years of imprisonment, is explained by the fact that he survived all these extreme states with his sensitive and gifted soul. Staying in a dissimilar social environment, communicating with different types of culture, and the severity of moral conflicts created, in modern philosophical language, an existential shock of consciousness that breaks the limitations of individual existence within the usual framework and the stereotypes of thinking formed by it. Maxim the Greek cannot be measured by the scale of an ordinary person; he was a gifted personality of the era in all the complexity of his being and consciousness.
And therefore, it is impossible to express the contradictory essence of Maxim - a man and a thinker - in such one-sided characteristics as “Westernizer” or “lamp of Orthodoxy”; it cannot be Latinized, but it cannot be Russified either. And is it appropriate to interpret its complex and painful evolution as evidence of “dubious moral purity” (52, 278)? However, it is hardly possible to imagine Maxim as a person with a “direct, open character” (50, 151), whose “ideal bright voice of a selfless figure and an innocent sufferer - a martyr” (105, 3) sounded in the Russian wilds. The unconventional nature of Maxim the Greek eludes unambiguous assessments, and in general, a gifted person with a fine mental organization in any era has a difficult life path, which requires serious reflection on it.
In Corfu, young Trivolis undergoes a course of study in grammar, dialectics and rhetoric from John Moschos, which was of considerable importance for him (see 136, 140–143). An unsuccessful run in the elections probably discouraged him from engaging in politics, in which, since Plato, philosophers have so often had no luck. In 1492, the young Greek found himself in Italy.
His movement to the West is not accidental. He goes there to study not Latin, but primarily Greek education, which was most flourishing in those years in the cities of Northern Italy. As it is written about this in the legends that arose on Russian soil, “the teaching of philosophy was accepted in Western countries, in the Fryazan land ... but then great poverty overcame the Greek land by people of philosophers” (10, l. 7 vol. - 8). Many of Michael’s compatriots were forced to do this not only because their homeland was impoverished by enlightened mentors who were fleeing the Turkish invasion by emigrating to many European countries, but also because of the lack of books, for it was difficult to find “philosophical teaching in the Greek country due to the great scarcity of books.” Both before the fall of Constantinople (1453), and after it, many valuable manuscripts, including philosophical ones (Plato, Aristotle, Proclus, Michael Psellus), were transported to Italy, where they settled in local archives, partly translated into Latin, partly printed and intensively studied by humanists.
Thus, the West enriched itself due to the ruin of the most cultural power of the Middle Ages, the custodian of the ancient heritage - Byzantium.
Michael Trivolis visits Padua, Bologna, Ferrara, Milan and other cities of Northern Italy, listens to lectures by prominent emigrant teachers, attends discussions, debates, readings, and is interested in poetry and other joys of life. In one of the letters of that time, distinguished by the grace of style and the “salt of eloquence,” the young humanist calls on his friend John Grigoropoulos: “And you, my friend, do not lose heart and do not forget to use life, remembering the words of the sage: “Take advantage of the spring, because everything quickly fades”” (70, 166). Michael seeks, first of all, spiritual pleasures; he improves his knowledge, thinking, and speech. In this he is helped by John Lascaris and Angelo Poliziano. During his stay in Venice, Mikhail became closely acquainted with the famous humanist and one of the best book publishers of the Renaissance - Aldus Manutius, whose magnificent publications - aldins - were known throughout Europe.
Trivolis recalls in Russia about this acquaintance, which gave him good skills in practical work with texts: “In Venice there was a certain philosopher, a good one: his name was Aldus, and his nickname was Manutius... he was much more literate in both Roman and Greek. I knew him and saw him in Venice and often went to him for book work” (5, l. 99).
Michael Trivolis spends several years (1498–1502) in the service of Giovanni Francesco Pico della Mirandola, nephew of the famous author of the “Speech on the Dignity of Man” and the “900 Theses” banned by the pope, which treated “everything that is knowable” (121, 4, 254). This service was not onerous. Equal in age, an ardent admirer of Greek culture, Pico the Younger attracts Michael to prepare “materials for theological and philosophical works” necessary for their translation from Greek (see 136, 217).
During this period, Michael Trivolis reached his greatest blossoming as a “Christian humanist”, not opposing religion, but trying to enlighten the mind with knowledge of the classical heritage and a broad view of the world. Denisov suggests that Mikhail visited Germany with Mirandola (see ibid., 229). He also believes that Trivolis visited Rome. Russian sources are silent about this, perhaps due to hostility to the papal throne, just as they do not report other facts (an unsuccessful run for office in Corfu, tonsure into a Dominican monastery, study of Thomas Aquinas and other Western theologians) that could damage the reputation of Maximus the Greek, an almost canonized “pillar of Orthodox piety.” Of course, Maxim himself did not advertise these pages of his biography when he was in Russia, although something does slip through in his writings.
For more than ten years of his stay in Italy, Florence, the “second Athens,” the center of the humanistic movement throughout Europe, had the greatest significance in his destiny. “Where is Dante? Where is Petrarch? Where is Boccaccio? - exclaims the patriot of the city, the Florentine chancellor and thinker Salutati, about his famous fellow countrymen (16, 55). It was here that, under the auspices of Cosimo, the Medici emerged in the mid-15th century. Plato's Academy, “which became the most real center of Renaissance Platonism” (138, 3, 206). Maxim recalls his life in this amazing city: “The city of Florence is the most beautiful and kindest of all. in Italy there are cities, I myself have seen them...” (14, 3, 194).
The soul of the Academy was Marsilio Ficino, one of the greatest philosophers of the Renaissance, whose translations into Latin of Plato, Plotinus, Iamblichus, Proclus, and Porphyry “opened a new era in the history of Platonism” (146, 328). He interpreted Neoplatonism in the spirit of Augustine and the Byzantine tradition (see 138, 3, 197). Plato becomes a kind of antipode to the dogmatized Aristotle, serving the liberation of thinking and emancipation of the spirit. A reassessment of values, characteristic of that era, occurs, in which philosophy “cannot be embodied in the image of one, no matter how great, thinker; philosophy exists in the multiplicity and diversity of directions, books and names, presented, in particular, in the open and translated into Latin “Lives” of Diogenes Laertius” (41, 74).
Such a sensitive person as Mikhail Trivolis could not ignore such trends. And although there is no information about his acquaintance with the head of the Academy, Mikhail can to a certain extent be considered a “student of Marsilio Ficino” (I. Denisov). The similarity of his views with the ideas of Florentine philosophers is also noted by D. Haney (see 139, 113). Perhaps this is where Trivolis’s respectful attitude towards Augustine stems. He himself, already in Russia, in an environment that does not allow such recognition, will dully note: “But I studied philosophy, and pride comes to me” (95, 100). Mikhail does not fall under the influence of Occam's nominalism, which flourished at the University of Bologna, is not carried away by Averroism, the center of which was the University of Padua, he gives preference to Plato; despite the critical remarks encountered in the spirit of Christian ideology, he will always recognize him as supreme among “external philosophers.”
At the same time, Mikhail Trivolis, reading philosophers and seeing their true appearance, becomes imbued with a critical attitude towards them. They will never become the highest authority for him, for they, too, are people subject to human weaknesses, especially since among the philosophers proud of their wisdom, there are increasingly self-satisfied laymen, about whom Petrarch spoke very unequivocally: “Our time is happier than antiquity ... since now there are not one, not two, not seven wise men, but in every city there are whole herds of them, like cattle” (77, 2, 19).
In addition to his attraction to the humanistic movement, in which “philosophical interest is one of the most characteristic features” (58, 88), young Trivolis experiences a strong passion for Savonarola, a frantic fighter against vice and injustice. An inspired preacher, outwardly unprepossessing, he is transformed at the pulpit of the main Florentine church - the Church of Santa Maria del Fiore, from where his passionate sermons thunder. Savonarola denounces Lorenzo de' Medici, who is fawning on him, and castigates the degenerate church, which, unlike the original, “has vessels made of gold, but prelates made of wood.” Marsilio Ficino admires his sermons, Reuchlin and Erasmus of Rotterdam listen to them, and Luther calls Savonarola “the martyr of the Reformation” and “the forerunner of Protestant doctrine” (33, 2, 170).
Among a huge crowd of people, holding his breath along with everyone else, Michael Trivolis listens to the angry voice of the rebel prophet. He will dedicate “A Terrible and Memorable Tale,” written in Russia, to Savonarola. In Maxim’s account, “Monk Jerome” appears as a “pretty ascetic,” a strongest-spirited fighter for justice, whose many-hour sermons “loved most of the city,” but the other part “was hostile to him and dishonestly annoyed him” (14, 3.195–198). Trivolis sees in him not an ancient, but a living, contemporary example of asceticism and “zeal for piety”, not teaching from books, but extracting the heartfelt words of a preacher from the depths of his soul.
Savonarola’s accusatory activity reaches its apogee in the criticism of Rome, “the harlot on the seven hills,” and the depraved and ambitious Alexander VI Borgia, who was then seated on the papal throne, “who in all righteousness and malice surpassed every lawbreaker” (ibid., 201). Could the all-powerful pope tolerate the words offensive to the entire curia: “... oh, harlot church, you have exposed your ugliness before the whole world, and your stench has reached heaven” (33, 2, 7)? The persecution of the frantic accuser ends with a trial, his public hanging and burning in the Piazza della Signoria in Florence in May 1498.
The tragic fate of Savonarola shocks Mikhail; it gives him an example of self-sacrifice that will inspire him in the future. Researchers have noted the compositional and thematic similarities between Savonarola’s main work “II trionfo della Croce” (“The Triumph of the Cross”) and the early collected works of Maximus the Greek (see 57 and 107). It is curious that in Rus' there will be a legend about the burning of “a certain teacher”, from whom hundreds of students learned “philosophical love and all wisdom”, many of whom were executed, “only eight of them fled to the Holy Mountain, and Maxim with them.” When the Greek is asked at the trial whether this is true, he will answer: “... I don’t remember, sir” (95, 114). This is a highly revealing example of how a thinker, wise with life experience, conceals many secret thoughts and facts of his past, which could bring upon him new suspicions and persecution.
The secrets of his soul will never become known to us, but there is no doubt that the student of Italian humanists and admirer of Savonarola, abandoned in Russia, possessed a much more complex spiritual world than might be imagined from his works, written in special Russian conditions and in connection with his special position here, when he had to weigh every word, especially written.
After several years of being in “secular dresses”, he decides to become a monk at the Dominican monastery of St. Mark in Florence, of which Savonarola was once abbot. At the tonsure, which took place, according to a document found by I. Denisov, on June 14, 1502 (see 136, 247), the former secretary of the abbot was present. In the monastery, “theology, philosophy and morals” enjoy special patronage (33, 1, 130), and for theoretical studies there is a good library, into which Savonarola invested the rich book collection of the late Lorenzo de’ Medici, which he purchased. As everywhere else, Mikhail, a book lover, is connected with them here - he was lucky to have good libraries. He recalls about the order in the monastery: “Such is their complete brotherly love and obedience to their abbot: they have nothing of their own, but everything in common, but they love non-covetousness, like a great spiritual good, observing them in silence and all truth and unwavering thoughts and without any love of money and covetousness” (14, 3, 186).
The Dominican Order was the largest guardian of "Italian scholasticism", based on the system of Thomas Aquinas (see 146, 349). And during his two years of stay in San Marco, Michael Trivolis could not help but become acquainted with the works of the ideological leader of the Dominicans (see 136, 253–260). Using a number of his ideas, which, however, is not easy to establish with indisputable evidence, he prefers to refer to “Thomas Aquinas of the East” - John of Damascus, whose works were also studied by the largest scholastic of the West. In general, Trivolis's stay in the Catholic monastery, which may seem to be the culminating point of his Latinization, most likely is not a renunciation of Greek Orthodoxy, but a rejection of Renaissance “neopaganism” (see ibid., 276). Being brought up in the traditions of a different culture and a different value system, he does not accept a new type of worldview.
We don’t know what would have happened to Mikhail Trivolis in Italy. According to E. Golubinsky, if he remained there, he “would have taken one of the most respected places among the Greek philologists of that time” (38, first half, 671). But Trivolis, having left San Marco in 1504, forever leaves Italy and with it the West. His path now lies to the East. He is not looking for a place in civil life and is heading to Athos, the spiritual center of Eastern Orthodoxy. Perhaps he stops by Corfu and Arta along the way to venerate the ashes of his parents, but he does not stay there. Once leaving his native place, Mikhail becomes an eternal wanderer - “the rank accepts the swimmer and the traveler” (14, 2, 300). And what is a physical homeland for a thinker if he is looking for a spiritual homeland? When Anaxagoras was reproached for neglecting the fatherland, he replied: ““Not at all; I really care about the fatherland!” - and pointed to the sky" (46, 105). And Mikhail assures in one of his writings: “...heaven will be our fatherland...” (14, 2, 6); and he writes about such people as “always having their own thoughts in heaven” (14, 7, 182).
Of course, the Hellenic and Christian understandings of the “heavenly fatherland” differ significantly, but the common desire of the wise people of ancient and medieval times for an exalted “spiritual homeland” is undeniable.
Michael Trivolis appears on Athos in 1505. He takes monastic vows under the name of Maximus in the Vatopedi monastery, one of the most famous and was once under the patronage of Byzantine emperors, who sometimes took monastic vows there, as did, for example, John Cantacuzene and Andronikos Palaiologos, who contributed their rich libraries to the book treasury of the monastery (see 55, 19). For the Orthodox East, the Annunciation Vatopedi Monastery was a “hotbed of high church positions” (58, 103); many major hierarchs of Orthodoxy came from it. In one of his letters to Ivan the Terrible, Maxim recalls his ten-year stay in Vatopedi, which brought him mental and physical peace, “and in the 10th summer we worked hard physically and mentally to heal” (14, 2, 377).
Athos, with its numerous monasteries, picturesquely located on steep cliffs plunging steeply to the sea, on the shores of convenient bays, among quiet valleys in the depths of the peninsula, is one of the unique places created by nature itself for peace of mind and quiet reflection. “The ancient Greek doctors recognized Athos as the healthiest place. Some of them advised the philosopher Plato to live there; but he did not listen to them and remained in his unhealthy academy. Other philosophers loved to retire to this mountain" (97, ", 66). After the destruction of pagan sanctuaries and the founding of the first monasteries of Athos, starting around the 10th century. becomes the “highest spiritual school” of Byzantium and the entire Orthodox world. Traditions of thinking are not interrupted - just as the “divinatory well” of the pagan goddess Demeter is built into the altar of the Vatopedi Church, so the teachings of ancient thinkers are adapted to the new ideology.
The atmosphere here is completely different from that in Italy seething with passions. On the Holy Mountain, especially after the hesychasts, silent concentration of the mind becomes the model of spiritual life: “A wise man leads silence” (97, 3, 135). The ascetic is silent not because he has nothing to say, but because the sounding speech is imperfect and all words are vain before the highest truth, which, in the words of Maxim, “is honored by silence.” Already in Russia, he will vividly outline the evolution of John the Theologian, somewhat reminiscent of his own story: “From the wise and prudent, John became an all-validated man, more than many of his peers, adorned with parables and fortune-telling and dark words of our own and external punishment; but when a spark of divine fire touches his heart... they will perceive the final silence, gathering and shutting all their minds within themselves...” (14, 2, 228-229). The image of the evangelist who secluded himself on Patmos, who is traditionally considered the author of the Apocalypse, inspired many thinkers of the past.
At the same time, monastic life presupposed not only contemplative self-deepening, but also active asceticism, practical service to the idea, for a person who proclaims, but does not do good, is, in the biblical expression, “a ringing brass,” “a clanking cymbal.” From someone who lived at the turn of the 4th-5th centuries. Nile of Sinai, known as the Philosopher, began the interpretation of monastic life as “spiritual philosophy” and the idea of \u200b\u200bthe monk as a true philosopher. This has its own continuity if we recall Socrates’ understanding of philosophy as a virtuous life. “The understanding of the expression “philosophical life” as “life in Christ,” life in accordance with the norms of the Christian religion, is only a development of the pagan understanding of the word “philosophy” as practical morality” (42, 25).
Chastity helped to sublimate all the powers of the soul into the spiritual sphere; it was understood not just as abstinence beneficial to health, but also as the preservation of the mind, the preservation of wisdom, which is manifested in the very etymology of the term “chastity,” which was identified with “chastity” (see 113, 3, column 1455). At the same time, the spiritual sphere is filled with all the passion of life’s experiences, ideal images acquire bright colors and expressiveness, and their own special world of colorful events and characters is created.
How the ten-year stay of Michael Trivolis, who survived worldly passions and matured, proceeded in “Vatopeda at the Annunciation”, we will probably never know, because the very image of that life did not encourage any fixation of one’s personality, one’s name, one’s ideas - self-denial in the name of absolute truth from one’s subjective Self had to be complete. That is why many creations of the Middle Ages are anonymous, that is why there are no lengthy memoirs left from those years, which the enlightened descendants of such modest ancestors would be so generous with. However, one should not think that nothing has survived from the Athos period.
More recently, the Greek researcher N. Ikonomidis published in the “Archives de 1'Athos” (Paris, 1978) a document that the Soviet specialist in Greek paleography B. L. Fonkich qualifies as “the first known Athonite autograph of Maximus the Greek.” We are talking about a copy of 1512–1513, taken by Maximus from the old deed of 1047 for the ownership of land at the request of the monks of the Kastamonite monastery, who argued with the monks of the neighboring Zograf monastery. This fact testifies to the high authority of the Vatopedi monk, “who was known on Athos as a book writer, philologist, publisher of texts and a writer and who could read and carefully copy the ancient and, moreover, poorly preserved original” 025, 394). I. Denisov published several epitaphs, epigrams and one canon to John the Baptist, written by Maxim on Athos (see 136, 412–420). Agion Oros with its rich archives still awaits thorough research.
Of course, during the years of his acme, Maxim leads an intense spiritual life, reads the church fathers, leafs through the books of the rich library of the Vatopedi Monastery, reflects on many serious issues - he seems to be preparing himself for the high and responsible mission that awaits him in Russia. It is no coincidence that Michael takes a monastic name in honor of Maximus the Confessor, a prominent Byzantine thinker and theologian of the 7th century, whose focus was the problem of man and who recognized “insignificant before philosophy: fame, wealth, honor, and everything that concerns empty ambition” (87, 9). In the Slavic Prologue they wrote about him: “... the philosopher brightened to the end in his life and words” (ibid., 292). The Greek himself believes that the Confessor “teaches wisely and piously,” and Prince Kurbsky, bowing to his teacher, will call him “a new confessor.”
By the end of his stay on Mount Athos, Mikhail Trivolis had lived more than half of his life - more than forty years, but this period was only the threshold of the most important stage of his existence as a person and thinker. He grew up on the land of ancient Hellas, having absorbed its high cultural traditions; he saw a lot in the West, and not on the outskirts of Europe, but in the very center of Renaissance life; he communicated with the great men of his time (this will be the case with him in all countries where fate takes him); for ten years he perfected his spirit not in a run-down monastery of the former Byzantine Empire, but in its spiritual center, which continued to exist after the fall of the “Second Rome”. Mikhail has fully formed in the past years, but has not yet revealed all his talents, has not expressed himself in creativity, in the imprinted word that survives the centuries.
2. “Maxim the Philosopher” in Russia
After the fall of the Byzantine Empire in the mid-15th century. Athonite monasteries are in dire straits. Russia provides them with support whenever possible, sending rich “alms” from time to time. For their part, Russian spiritual and secular authorities are asking the monks of the Holy Mountain not only to pray for them, but also to provide some practical services. Close relations are maintained with the Lavra of St. Athanasius, with Vatopedi, with the Russian Panteleimon Monastery and other monasteries of “the prayer book of the whole universe,” as Athos Maxim calls it (14, 2, 366).
In 1515, Grand Duke Vasily III sent considerable gifts to the Holy Mountain and asked the Archpriest of Athos, the head of all monasteries, to release a “book translator for a time.” The abbot and the brethren of the Vatopedi monastery send in response to this request the monk Maxim, “like he is skilled in divine writing and is good at telling all kinds of books, both church and spoken Elinsky, even from his youth in this age and was thus punished with virtue...” (24, 198). Only three years after the departure of the embassy from Russia, “the elders came from the holy Mount Athos” to Moscow. Among them was Maxim, who in Rus', like many of his compatriots, is nicknamed the Greek. The elders are settled in the Kremlin Miracle Monastery, “nourishing them and satisfying them” with all sorts of needs from the royal court (see 96, 6, 261).
“An Athonite monk with an extraordinary destiny and, therefore, a wide store of knowledge in Moscow immediately attracted the attention of his contemporaries” (65, 155). His cell becomes an attractive spiritual center, a kind of “literary club” where lovers of knowledge gather to “discuss among themselves about books.” Among Maxim’s inquisitive interlocutors, who discuss often complex theological and philosophical issues, are Vassian Patrikeev, Ivan Tokmakov, Vasily Tuchkov, Ivan Saburov, Pyotr Shuisky, Andrei Kholmsky, Fyodor Karpov and other influential persons at court. Maxim, whose age by this time is already approaching fifty years, finds himself in a new environment with an unusual climate and traditions, in a mysterious “Muscovy” for many Europeans, about which the most incredible rumors are circulating and which is increasingly visited by foreigners, describing in detail its original features. One of them, the German diplomat Baron Sigismund Herberstein, created a detailed “Notes on Muscovite Affairs.”
And the book of another author, the Italian historian and humanist Pavel Jovius of Novokomsky (“Embassy of Vasily Ivanovich, Grand Duke of Moscow, to Pope Clement VII” - see 20, 234), was assessed by his contemporary Cursius in this way: “Re-reading your thorough work on Muscovy, Jovius, I began to believe in other worlds of Democritus” (37, 251).
During this period, Russia grew stronger as a powerful centralized state, which was increasingly taken into account by the European powers. Having thrown off the hated Mongol-Tatar yoke, she collects the lands of early feudal Kievan Rus, considering herself its rightful heir. For these lands we have to wage an intense struggle with Lithuania and Poland, with the remnants of the Golden Horde - the Kazan, Astrakhan and Crimean khanates, with the Livonian Order, Sweden and other strong rivals. The dynastic ties of Russian sovereigns are strengthened. Ivan III became related to the imperial, though already in the past, family of Palaiologos. The Assumption and Archangel Cathedrals were erected in the Kremlin by the best Italian architects. Moscow is beginning to claim the role of the “Third Rome”.
But the Russian state also has its own difficulties, both foreign policy and internal. The Western powers, especially the Habsburg Holy Roman Empire (which also considers itself the heir of Rome), want to use Russia to fight Turkey, whose troops reach as far as Vienna. The mediator is the same Alexander VI Borgia: “This two-faced pope simultaneously encouraged the Russians to participate “in the joint struggle of the entire Christian world” against the eternal enemy - the Turks, and at the same time gave complete absolution to all who fought against the “Russian heretics”” (34, 46). In 1517, the Reformation begins, the Western world splits into two warring camps. Both Catholics and Protestants persistently strive to win Russia over to their side, intensively sending missionaries and tempting their potential ally with large human and natural resources with various benefits.
The internal situation of the country also looks very difficult. Having lost their freedom, Novgorod and Pskov do not lose hope of freeing themselves from the rule of Moscow. The noble boyars do not want to cede privileges and do not give way to the young nobility, and without them, as a service class, the feudal state cannot be strong. Unrest breaks out in the country from time to time. There is a ferment of minds: Josephites argue with non-covetous people, heretics denounce the official church, enlightened freethinkers like Fyodor Karpov begin to talk about legality, daring to instruct the autocratic authorities to administer “righteous laws” and not rely everything on the people’s “patience” (see 61, 180–181).
Maxim Grek finds himself in the thick of things. The irreconcilable enemy of the Josephites, Vassian Patrikeev, turns to him with a request to explain a number of conciliar rules and interpretations regarding monastic land ownership. Athos writes “The Tale of the Residence of the Monks of the Holy Mountain,” which was included in the Helmsman compiled by Vassian, a collection of church rules based on the Byzantine Nomocanon (see 63, 62). In response to his request, Maxim sent Vasily III a “Message on the organization of the Athonite monasteries,” mentioning the “honest and sacred monastery of Vatopedi,” which was “accepted from the relatives of the king of Palaiologos like the flowing rivers” (108, 136). Obviously, in the same period, Maxim created the “Epistle on the Franciscans and Dominicans,” speaking with praise about these mendicant Catholic orders, one of which (the Dominican) he was a member of when he was in Florence.
Finding himself in a difficult situation, the Athonite scribe tries to navigate relationships that are not entirely clear to him. He does not immediately take the side of the non-covetous, and does not immediately become an exposer of the “disorders” of Russian life. He is cautious in a country unfamiliar to him, and this is understandable. But gradually, imbued with more and more knowledge of Russian reality, Maxim begins to raise his voice against injustice, showing his characteristic sympathy for the offended: “Loving to stand up for the persecuted, he secretly received them in his cell and sometimes listened to speeches offensive to the sovereign and the metropolitan” (66, 111). It could not have happened here without the help of his new friends, especially Vassian Patrikeev, who mercilessly criticized the cruel order.
The enlightened monk sees his main activity in translating Greek books. The main work is the translation of the Explanatory Psalter, one of the most complex and meaningful books of the European Middle Ages. In a letter to Vasily III, usually placed in copies of this monument, Maxim notes that “this book was compiled by ancient men with all wisdom and heaviness of understanding.” And although the translator, following medieval literary etiquette, modestly notes that the understanding of this wise book not only “exceeds the power” of his mind, “but even if it were given to no one greater than me” (12, l. 2 vol.), he strives to make the translation as accurate and understandable as possible. In conclusion, the author thanks the “great and glorious prince of all Russia” and asks for permission to return to his monastery, which, like a chick that has flown far to foreign lands, awaits him in his native nest. The carefully copied and bound book is consecrated and solemnly presented to the sovereign, and the translation itself is recognized as exemplary. “Numerous lists of the 17th-18th centuries.
indicate the great popularity of the monument" (106, 65-). One of the lists of the late 16th century, quoted above, of fine workmanship, decorated with elegant multi-color headpieces, belonged to Patriarch Nikon, as evidenced by his own handwritten entry on the first sheets of the manuscript (see 12).
Vasily III thanks the translator, generously rewards him, but does not let him go home: the authorities are in great need of such skilled specialists. “It was easier then for foreigners with intelligence and talent to enter Russia than to leave it” (66, 115). Maxim is tasked with translating new books and checking existing ones. The Athos resident's corrections evoke different attitudes. Enlightened people familiar with the Greek language speak of his work with praise. Those who blindly idolize every letter of the revered books look with horror and indignation at the bold editing of the learned Greek. Many begin to grumble, and those whom the Grand Duke does not favor with attention envy the foreigner, whom the sovereign appreciated and “I was very glad that you found such a husband, seeing him, he is very wise in philosophy, an elegant diligent in the divine scripture” (24, adj., XIII). And then, as one of the legends about “Maxim the Philosopher” tells, the devil, who always strives to kindle bad inclinations in people, “raises some non-brotherly lovers to hostile envy, like a foreigner man has risen to such heights.”
And, “forgetting the apostolic word” about the equality of people, for “there is no Jew, no Greek, no barbarian, no Scythian,” these “unbrotherly lovers” begin to persecute the visiting Athonite.
The point is not only the envy of the dignitaries who were ignored by the sovereign. When in 1525 Maxim the Greek appeared in court, the new Metropolitan Daniel, who replaced Varlaam, who had patronized the Athos resident, accuses him of such grave sins: “But you, Maxim, called the Grand Duke Vasily a persecutor and wicked tormentor... the holy great miracle workers Peter, and Alexy, and Jonah, the metropolitans of all Russia, and You reproach and blaspheme the holy reverend miracle workers Sergius, Varlam and Cyril, Paphnutius and Macarius, and say this: But they held cities, and volosts, and villages, and people judged duties and taxes, tributes, and had much wealth, otherwise they cannot be miracle workers” (95, 98-99). The Svyatorets is severely punished and sent to repentance in the Joseph-Volokolamsk monastery: “And the great prince searched with his father, the Metropolitan, Danil and with the whole cathedral for their guilt, and sent Maxim to the Osifov monastery for imprisonment...” (96, 24, 222). Daniel, in a letter to Abbot Nifont and the brethren, orders to strictly guard the “god-hating and abominable and cunningly wise monk Greek Maximus.”
He gives detailed instructions on how to humble a disobedient sage: “And he is imprisoned to be in a certain silent cell... and let him not talk with anyone... speak below the scriptures, or teach someone, or what kind of wisdom to have, or send a message to some... but just sit in silence and repent of your madness and heresy” (95, 122).
These lines emanate inexorable cruelty. The vengeful ruler could not forgive Maxim for his refusal to translate for him the “Church History” of Theodoret of Cyrrhus, a Byzantine writer and theologian of the 5th century, in which the Josephite-minded hierarch wanted to find a justification for monastic land ownership. Daniel is also irritated by the Grand Duke’s affection for Maxim, the independent behavior of the Athos resident, and his denunciations of the Josephites, for which he was imprisoned in their monastery. The overweight and corpulent “prince of the church” is obviously brought considerable annoyance by the caustic speeches of the ascetic monk against the “coldless belly” as the source of human weaknesses.
Many researchers speak unflatteringly about Daniel; even church authors believe that only by “pleasing the Grand Duke in everything” did he acquire “great power” (49, 25). However, it would be wrong to represent Daniel as only a narrow-minded and evil person. Maxim himself points to the Metropolitan as an “elegant mind” theologian, skilled in interpreting books (see 14, “531). Daniel entered the history of ancient Russian literature as one of the prominent writers of the 16th century. “both in the number of works and erudition, and in the social issues raised in them.” He respected philosophy and referred to Socrates and Aristotle (see 58, 411–412). He compiled, as B. M. Kloss established, “the largest monument of historiography of the 16th century.” – Nikon Chronicle (see 72, 7; 88 – 103). Perhaps Daniel was also overwhelmed by his deeply hidden envy of a more talented and enlightened foreigner.
In general, the clash between them, which cost Maxim so dearly, appears as a fundamental conflict between a hierarch vested with power and an Athos resident who did not submit to him, who, although a simple monk, had a great influence on Russian society. Later, when Daniel himself falls into disgrace, and Maxim feels more confident, the saintly mountaineer will write a letter to his enemy with a proposal to reconcile and forget old grievances: “... destroy your many years of indignation against me and show the poor sacred love for me...” (14, 2, 373). The disgraced metropolitan will not agree to reconciliation.
Six years of imprisonment in the Joseph-Volokolamsk Monastery were the most difficult years in the life of Mikhail Trivolis. Having grown up in a noble family, having absorbed the spirit of freedom of “Great Italy”, previously surrounded by honor and respect, he is thrown into a cold, gloomy cell - a cell. His constant companions in life - books, pen and paper - were taken away from him. He is shocked by the injustice that has happened, but does not lose heart, although he is losing his health: “And from the great cramped conditions of the prison, the nobles were sorrowful with their eyes and feet” (24, adj., XVI). The severe torment of the flesh enlightens his spirit: “...chains in prison hold the body, but enlighten the soul.” His state is reminiscent of the state of Dostoevsky, who found himself in hard labor in a “borderline situation” and, according to the writer, it was there that he thought through his most secret thoughts, those thoughts that cannot be found in a comfortable environment, but can only be suffered through difficult trials, received as payment for the incredible suffering of the soul and body.
It may be cruel, but history shows that many ideas valuable to humanity were born in the past during severe life trials. Maxim went through this too. According to legend, he writes in charcoal on the wall one of his most passionate and sincere creations - the canon of the Paraclete, a true hymn to the truth for which he lived and suffered throughout his difficult life.
In 1531, a new council was convened for Maxim the Greek. The accusation is his reluctance to admit his guilt and new “corruptions” found later in the books he translated. After the trial, the cathedral decides to recognize the prisoner’s old and new guilt and send him to subsequent imprisonment, but this time to the Tverskaya Otroch Monastery, which was some relief. This time he is tried with Vassian Patrikeev, who has lost the sovereign’s patronage, who, unlike the outwardly humble Maxim, behaves defiantly, for which he is sent to the same Volokolamsk monastery of the “despicable Josephites” whom he denounced and who “starved” him (see 78, column 164).
The question of the real reasons for the condemnation of the Greek at both councils is controversial, since they may not have been directly named, since making them public “was undesirable for government circles...” (65, 183). In addition to the “damage” of holy books, he is credited with: opposing the divorce and second marriage of Vasily III, who, despite general condemnation, nevertheless married the young Elena Glinskaya (A. Kurbsky); “an independent line of behavior” both on this issue and on Russian-Turkish relations (A. A. Zimin); secret relations with the Turkish ambassador Skinder, a Greek by origin, and betrayal of Russian interests (B. I. Dunaev); behind-the-scenes political actions as a Greek agent who persistently implemented a program “clearly profiled by Constantinople” (I. B. Grekov). According to N.A. Kazakova, who thoroughly examined the surviving materials, the main reason for Maxim’s condemnation is “his speeches against the patrimonial rights of monasteries and the independence of the Russian Church” (64, 154).
In 1968, in Altai, N.N. Pokrovsky found a list of the court case of Maxim the Greek, which is earlier and more complete than the well-known Pogodinsky and Barsovsky. The data contained in it documents the “inconsistency of the version about the secret relations of Maxim the Greek with. government of Sultan Turkey..." (95, 5). However, this list does not answer all questions. The trial of the Athonites was a political process that was specially organized and tendentiously covered, which was especially characteristic of the Middle Ages, “when the trial, being not adversarial, but inquisitorial, had only one task - to prove the guilt of the defendant” (65, 193).
The fate of Maxim interests Herberstein, but the stinginess of official data, which gave rise to various boobies, leads to the fact that he gives a very approximate version: “In Moscow we learned that the Patriarch of Constantinople, at the request of the Bishop of Moscow himself, sent a certain monk named Maximilian, so that, after a sound discussion, he would put in order all the books, rules and individual statutes related to the faith... Maximilian fulfilled this and, noticing many very serious errors, he personally announced to the sovereign that he was a complete schismatic, since he did not follow either Roman or Greek law... he, they say, disappeared, and, according to many, he was drowned” (37, 65).
Maxim’s Tver imprisonment was less severe, but longer: he lived in Tver for more than a decade and a half. The local bishop Akaki, sympathizing with the injured monk, gives him the opportunity to read, write and conduct journalistic activities. At the same time, the conditions of his life and work remain far from ideal. Maxim is especially upset by the lack of things necessary for writing: “... and I’m glad to have ink and cinnabar.” After the death of Elena Glinskaya, the widow of Vasily III (1538), and the deposition of Metropolitan Daniel (1539), he begins to openly declare his innocence (see 106, 151).
Patriarch Dionysius II of Constantinople, famous in the Greek world, stands up for the disgraced Athos resident, who, on behalf of the council of 70 metropolitans and the Patriarch of Jerusalem Herman, beats Ivan the Terrible with his forehead: “... let go of the poor and wretched and strange monk Maximus, who has already reached old age and is near the mortal gates...” (5, l. 190 vol.). The Alexandrian Patriarch Joachim is more harsh in his message, directly pointing out to the king that Maxim “is unjustly bound and caught from the kingdom of your power” (ibid., l. 192 vol.). The new head of the Russian Church, one of its most enlightened hierarchs, Metropolitan Macarius, however, dependent, like the previous ones, on the tsar, in response to Maxim’s message asking him to be released to Athos, he utters amazing words: “We kiss your bonds, as one of the saints, but we cannot help you” (106, 156). His situation is gradually eased, but he is not allowed to go to Greece, because, as the boyar Bersen-Beklemishev put it at one time: “and you should not be from us... you are a reasonable man, and here you recognized our kindness and dashing, and I came to tell you everything there” (92, 143), i.e.
The Russian authorities, fearing that the disgraced monk who had learned too much about Russian reality might talk about it on his return to Athos, considered it best not to let him go at all. Maxim, even in previous years, recalled that he, not being a Russian subject, was subject to trial only by the Greek authorities: “... I am a Greek and in the Greekness of the earth and was born and raised and took monastic vows” (14, “, 36). But everything is in vain, and the Athonite man resigns himself.
In a letter to Prince Pyotr Shuisky, he writes: “... I know that my request is not kind to you, but rather favorable” (14, 2, 418).
Around 1547–1548 at the request of the Trinity abbot Artemy and with the permission of Ivan the Terrible, Maxim was transferred to the Trinity-Sergius Monastery, where he, freed from bonds and accusations, lived out the last years of his life (see 106, 151–152). The exact date of his death is not known. According to some legends, “the great sufferer Maxim” died in December 1555, and according to the day of memory established for him (together with Maxim the Confessor - January 21 of the old style, or February 3 of the new style), his death is attributed to the beginning of 1556. Thus, on the land near Moscow, Mikhail Trivolis, a man of a difficult and interesting fate, who saw and experienced a lot in his life, found his eternal rest. more than eighty years of life. Maxim was buried near the Spiritual Church, near its northern wall, but his grave has not been preserved. Inside the church there is now a cenotaph - an empty burial in the form of a sarcophagus, built as a sign of respect for the ascetic.
Above it is a marble plaque with a troparion carved on it - a prayer chant, specially composed in memory of the deceased and in a concentrated figurative and poetic form expressing the high meaning of his ascetic activity: We reverence the dawn of the spirit, you have been vouchsafed to those who orbit with God's wisdom, and illuminating the hearts of men darkened by ignorance with the light of piety, you have appeared as the light of Orthodoxy, the lamp of Orthodoxy, Reverend Maxima, out of jealousy for the sake of the all-seeing, alien and strange fatherland, the Russian countries were ecu pressed, for the suffering of dungeons and imprisonment, you were crowned by the right hand of the Most High and you work miracles, glorious.
And be an intercessor for us, who honor your holy memory with love.
In the kontakion, a shorter hymn attached to the troparion, which is contained in the handwritten legends about the Athonite, it is added with enthusiastic praise that the deceased “convicted superstition”, “instructed him on the path of true knowledge,” and then follows an appeal to him: “... like a god-voiced pipe, delighting the hearing minds, constantly rejoice, Maxim most worthy” (24, adj., XLII).
Regarding hymnographic monuments, which were very widespread in Byzantium and Ancient Rus', it should be noted that they are little used for the study of Russian history. culture, and historians of philosophy by them. They hardly do any work. Meanwhile, these works often not only display magnificent examples of panegyric eloquence and rhythmically ordered prose close to poetry, dating back to the classical ancient tradition (see 19, 221–236), but also represent an example of artistic and plastic expression of flexible, antinomic, dialectical thinking, which brought masterly mastery of words to a high degree of aesthetic perfection. It is enough to recall Hilarion’s “Sermon on Law and Grace,” beautiful in its poetic imagery and deep in its philosophical content. And in Maxim’s work one can trace the influence of Hellenic poetics of the word, especially in his most striking hymnographic creation - the canon of Paraclete.
One can argue about whether Russia, which, according to Europeans, had “a special historical essence within Europe” (151, 37), became a new homeland for Maxim the Greek, whether he was treated fairly here, but one thing is indisputable: it was in Russia, having demonstrated his high moral qualities, that he expressed himself as a writer; the previous life was “only a prelude in the general perspective of his existence” (136, 2). All of his works of any significance known to us were created by him in Rus' and written in Russian (although the possibility is not excluded that he also wrote in Greek, especially in the early years). Russia doomed the thinker to difficult trials - “here the suffering here is enough for the truth” (10, l. 8 vol.). She immortalized his name, which became inseparable from the history of Russian culture and gained European fame.
Already in captivity in Tver, Maxim Grek begins to compile collections of his creations, finding himself “one of the first Russian writers whose works are presented in texts edited by the author’s hand.” It has been established that Maxim personally selects and groups the first two collections of his works. In total, “during the author’s lifetime, three large sets of his works were compiled - the Joasaphov, Khludov and Rumyantsev collections” (106, 161. See 3–5). Later, Solovetsky, Trinity and other collections were compiled by admirers of Athos (see 7 - 11). From an early collection containing 25 chapters to a more extensive one of 151 chapters - this is the evolution of the compilation of more than 10 handwritten collections of Greek works, traced in a detailed monograph by N.V. Sinitsina “Maxim the Greek in Russia” containing many new valuable facts, written on the basis of many years of textual research and a thorough paleographic analysis of his lifetime, with the author’s notes, manuscripts of the Athos resident.
The most complete and latest in time handwritten collection of the thinker’s works is, according to A. I. Ivanov, who placed in the book “The Literary Heritage of Maxim the Greek” a detailed, although not entirely accurate (see 148) description of the thinker’s works and literature about him, a collection of 1862, “containing 207 chapters of the works of Maxim the Greek and distributed in several copies.” (55, 29). This collection, which, as established by D. M. Bulanin, represents a copy from an earlier manuscript, is stored in the richest Synodal collection of manuscripts of the Historical Museum in Moscow (see 11). It belonged to the famous collector of handwritten and early printed books A.I. Khludov. The manuscript is a large-format book of 800 sheets on good paper, in a dark red antique binding, with a beautiful edge and a portrait of the Holy Mountain placed at the beginning. This book, lovingly handmade in the era of mass development of printing, visibly embodies the respectful attitude of the Old Believer community, for which Maxim the Greek became one of the most significant authorities.
The collection, compiled “through the labors and diligence of the famous lover and seller of manuscripts” T. S. Bolshakov, contains both the original works and translations of the thinker, as well as the creations attributed to him, along with some acts relating to Maxim. What is significant is that the collection includes those works that were omitted in publications controlled by spiritual censorship, since they strengthened the position of the Old Believers in their polemics with the official church. Thus, as the 27th chapter of the Bolshakovsky collection, the word “To those who dare to say hallelujah three times” is placed, which is not in the slightly earlier published Kazan edition of the works of the Greek and the authenticity of which was disputed by many pre-revolutionary researchers.
There was an intense struggle between the Nikonians and the Old Believers for the legacy of the thinker. Despite Maximov's Grecophilism and his decisive correction of old handwritten books, zealots of ancient piety, for his double-fingered nature and deep hallelujah, count the Athonite monk among their ideological supporters. Simeon Polotsky in “The Rod of Government” and Yuri Krizhanich in “Reproaching the Solovetsky Petition” declare these works to be fraudulent. Moreover, some zealous defenders of the official church themselves indulge in forgery. In the manuscript of the works of the Greek, previously kept in the Trinity-Sergius Lavra (see 9), in controversial articles, words that contradict the dogma of the Orthodox Church are cleaned up and corrected. Old Believer researchers at the beginning of the 18th century. expose this forgery by conducting a thorough analysis of the text, which “can be considered as one of the first experiments in paleographic analysis known in Russian history,” which, according to V. G. Druzhinin, “would do honor to a modern paleographer” (quoted in: 129, 87).
The intensive work of Old Believer scribes leads to the creation, on the basis of the Trinity and Solovetsky collections, of “their own collected works of Maxim the Greek,” called Pomorsky by A. T. Shashkov and known in several manuscripts (see, for example, 10). This collection begins to serve opposition-minded Old Believers as “a most valuable collection of sources of the most diverse nature,” containing “samples of polemical, rhetorical and philosophical literature.” In the preface to the “dearest readers,” which they so loved to include in collections of an edifying nature, its compilers report that they, “desired the book of the wondrous and elegant philosopher Maximus the Greek... through an inquisitive search and laborious asceticism, diligently researched, diligently collected and, having righteously agreed, corrected,” so that “at the peak of reading pious postavista” (130, 120).
The handwritten heritage of Maxim the Greek is great - over three hundred and fifty original and translated works (according to the calculations of A. I. Ivanov - 365). More than a hundred collections of his works of various types are known, more than two hundred collections containing translations and original works of Maxim, as well as legends and news about him (see 106, 44–45) and a huge, difficult to count number of compilation collections (which contain individual works, quotes, statements of the Greek), located in Soviet and foreign archives, as well as in private collections. The painstaking paleographic, source study and textual work that will make it possible to clearly separate the original works of the Greek from his translations and creations attributed to him, and to determine the time of creation and the circumstances associated with their occurrence, is still far from being completed.
This is all the more relevant since there are many known errors and inaccuracies in the attribution of the works of Maxim the Greek (see 55, 73–74. 148, 3 – 14. 106, 53–60), which lead to inadequate ideas about his work and worldview. The appearance of works attributed to the authorship of Maxim testifies to the high authority of the Athonite scribe, whose name, like the name of John Chrysostom or John of Damascus, was inscribed on works that did not belong to him. There are almost no works written by Maxim himself; there are several autographs, mainly in Greek, identified by I. Denisov, N. V. Sinitsyna, B. L. Fonkich and other researchers (see 136, 81 – 100. 106, 12–19. 124, 15–16; 45–49). For example, the Leningrad Public Library contains the Psalter and the Apostle, and the Paris National Library has the encyclopedic work “Geoponics”, all in Greek, copied by the hand of Maxim the Greek.
Of particular value for the analysis of the ideological heritage of the Holy Mountainer are his lifetime manuscripts, moreover, edited by him with his own hand. We have before us a unique opportunity: to penetrate into the creative process of one of the greatest Russian thinkers of the Middle Ages, based on the study of his original works. For specialists in the history of Russian philosophy, accustomed to dealing with handwritten materials no earlier than the 18th century, this example is very instructive, because it clearly demonstrates what rich opportunities there are in the prospect of an in-depth study of Russian philosophical thought of the pre-Petrine period. In the meantime, these opportunities are used mainly by historians and literary scholars. Thus, historian N.V.
Sinitsyna, relying on the analysis of the Joasaph and Khludov collections, which characterize “a system of worldview reflected in the totality of works selected by the author himself from the entire mass of what he wrote and located within the framework of a logical scheme determined by himself,” placed in her monograph a special paragraph “System of a worldview” with a detailed textual substantiation of the Greek’s views (see 106, 186–219).
Fame comes to Maxim during his lifetime. His like-minded people, followers, students Vassian Patrikeev, Andrei Kurbsky, Zinovy Otensky, German Kazansky, Dmitry Gerasimov, Nil Kurlyatev, Jonah Dumin, Dionisy Zobninovsky speak of the thinker with deep respect and sincere praise. Zinovy, who was exiled to the Otensky monastery near Novgorod for his devotion to his teacher after the trial of Maxim, writes: “I, as a rude person, cannot understand the meaning of the wise Maxim.” Being himself a sophisticated scribe, he does not always understand the deep meaning of the statements of the Athos resident. At the same time, he subtly notes that his teacher wrote some things in a state of emotional enthusiasm, characteristic of the Greek: “... as if from irritation according to the zeal of Maximus” (53, 894; 909). Some researchers, however, express doubt that Zinovy Otensky was a direct student of the ascetic (see 145, 18–28).
Just a few years after the death of Maxim the Greek, his image appears on the walls of the porch of the Annunciation Cathedral of the Moscow Kremlin, painted in 1564. He is depicted as a handsome old man among Homer, Plato, Aristotle, Anaxagoras, Virgil and other authorities of the ancient world - no one was awarded such an honor either earlier or later in Rus'. There are a considerable number of frescoes, icons, miniatures with the image of Maxim, which are stored in the Tretyakov Gallery and the Historical Museum of Moscow, the Russian Museum of Leningrad, the St. Sophia Cathedral of Vologda, the Yaroslavl Church of John the Baptist in Tolchkov, the Zagorsk Museum-Reserve, manuscript departments of the largest book depositories and other places in our country.
The earliest miniatures convey his individual features: “...a downward-curved hooked nose, sharp folds on the cheeks, below the cheekbones, a luxuriantly growing beard” (23, 302). In the images of the 16th-17th centuries. Maxim looks like a thinker, scribe, sage, with his own unique appearance, and in the 18th-19th centuries. stencil images of him as “our reverend father” are increasingly appearing, often with a halo around his head and facial features that are far removed from the original. Maxim the Greek was never canonized by the official church, perhaps because of the sympathy of the Old Believers for him (see 143, 190), but he is often called a saint and reverend. According to the “Iconographic Original” of 1694, it was recommended to write “Saint Maxim” in this way: “... gray-haired, with a wide brad and covered his shoulders to the chest, in a kamilavka; venerable robe, book in hand” (quoted from: 23, 305). In the book or scroll that the monk holds, there are words very characteristic of his active nature: “... faith apart from good deeds is dead.” Sometimes images of Maxim, as O.A. notes.
Belobrova, resemble the images of the evangelists, but especially the biblical King David, the legendary author of the Psalter, which the Greek translated.
There are stories and legends about the Athonite monk, in which he is presented as a wise old man, “very cunning of Hellenic, Roman and Slavic punishment, and from external teachings nothing was hidden from him and having insatiable zeal for divine philosophy.” The suffering of the unjustly convicted monk is depicted with sincere sympathy, and the fortitude of his spirit is described with admiration. In his posthumous praise, Maxim is compared with the great prophets and teachers of mankind, “truly you are in no way worse or lower than those great universal teachers.” Having collected all the written evidence about the Athonite S.A. Belokurov, he counted 3 brief news, 3 detailed legends, 2 inscriptions at the coffin and a life (see 24, 220).
Of course, these sources cannot be completely trusted: they contain interesting, but mostly evaluative, rather than objective information. In them, Maxim’s biography is supplemented with fictitious details, individual episodes take on the appearance of iconographic stamps, genuine details of the biography appear in an unrecognizable form, which was done, of course, not for the sake of distorting the truth, but for etiquette reasons to give greater authority. Thus, Palestine is sometimes called Maxim’s “fatherland”; it is reported that he studied in the “most kind city” of Laurentia, or Rorentia, or Florence (i.e. Florence), and even “in the city of Parisia” (Paris); it is written about “the installation of St. Maxim the philosopher as a priest in Constantinople”; and he lived, it turns out, “in reverence and truth for 108 years and 2 months and 13 days.”
To the life of the Holy Mountainer, as was expected in the works of the hagiographical genre, moralizing “miracles” are added, designed to reinforce the authority of the “new Radonezh miracle worker” - it is as if even after death he continues to serve people, healing the sick, instructing the foolish, punishing villains and even helping the Don Cossacks defeat the enemy. For those who do not believe in such miracles, a corresponding “miracle” has been prepared about the sexton Erofei, who, climbing the bell tower, “thought in his mind; that what philosophers appear and work miracles, and people speak wrong.” And the foolish sexton fell, “and was dumb and silent” (ibid., adj., CX). But the matter ends happily: after being ill for 9 months and 2 days, he, repenting, is healed by Maxim, who has forgiven him. Despite all their outward naivety, such stories represent an attempt to introduce into consciousness the criterion of practice as a test of the truth or falsity of the thoughts that have taken possession of a person, with the result quickly reinforced by reward or punishment.
Such a morally interpreted criterion of practice in the form of a correlation, even if sometimes fictitious, with reality is very typical of medieval consciousness; it was often used when testing ideas, objects, people whose assessment was difficult.
Among Maxim’s “miracles” there is one that is very indicative of the establishment of his reputation - “about the salvation of the great sovereign Tsar Fyodor Ivanovich from the evil plans of his Germans near Yuryev of Livonsky” (ibid., appendix CI-CIII.). The author of the tale picturesquely depicts how, during the siege of Tartu, the Swedish gunners, aiming their cannons at the royal tent during the day, wanted to hit it at night. And then “a handsome and red-faced monk appears to the sleeping king, saying: Arise, come out of your tent, lest you be killed in vain.” For the miraculous deliverance, the Tsar commands: to send rich gifts to the Trinity - Sergius Monastery, “to the isographer of the royal plates named Mikhail Vasilyevich Chustov to paint the image of our venerable father Maxim” for the Assumption Cathedral in the Kremlin; build a stone chapel over the grave of the ascetic, located at the northwestern corner of the Spiritual Church. At the same time, according to the Order of Patriarch Job, a service to Maxim was compiled “for the month of January in 21 days.” These events take place at the end of the 16th century.
In the 17th century interest in the Holy Mountain grows even more, especially after the difficult trials of the “Time of Troubles,” which caused a rise in national self-awareness, when Russia had to wage not only a military, but also an ideological struggle with the “Latins” and “Luthors,” that is, with Catholic and Protestant Europe. In the 18th century in connection with the reorientation to the West, the prestige of the Athonite scribe decreases, although even in this controversial century the works of Maxim are published, Metropolitan Plato orders the erection of a new stone tent over the tomb of the Athonite, and the Russian Academy of Sciences in 1794, when publishing a new grammar, decides to be guided not only by the works of Lomonosov, but also by the works of Maxim the Greek (see 55, 91).
Svyatogorets becomes one of the first authors whose works and translations begin to be published in Russia and abroad. Thanks to the activities of Kurbsky, the works of the Greek become famous in Western Russian lands. In 1588, Vasily Surazhsky, a collaborator of Konstantin Ostrozhsky, in his work “On the United Orthodox Faith,” directed against the Uniates, expounds the “Word on the Latins” by Maxim the Greek (see 109, 264). This work was published separately around 1620 in Kyiv or Pochaev. Relevant for its anti-Catholic orientation, it is placed in such an official collection as the “Cyril Book” of 1644, published by the Moscow Printing House, with an interesting indication in the margins: “a denunciation of Latin philosophical theology” (69, l. 364). “The Word in Latin” is published in various editions of the 17th-18th centuries, and Yuri Krizhanich translates it into Latin. This translation is now kept in Rome (152, 13), where it was published, but not in full, with cuts (see 149, 54–79; 379–384).
The “Word of Praise to the Apostles Peter and Lovelus” (in the “Mirror of Theology”, Pochaev, 1618), “Canon of the Paraclete” (in “The Spiritual Vertograd”, Vilna, 1620), “Confession of Faith” (in “Tablets”, Moscow, 1656) and other works of the Greek are also published. Maxim, as one of the founders of philological science in Russia, wrote several linguistic works. His “Discourse on the Use of Grammar” is included in the first Moscow edition of Meletius Smotritsky’s “Grammar” in 1648 (see 110), and in 1782 it is published as a separate edition (see 13). It, however, may be a late adaptation of one of the original works of the Athonite. Translations of Maxim are also published: “Interpretations of John Chrysostom on the Apostle” (Kyiv, 1623), “Conversations of John Chrysostom on the Gospel of John” (Moscow, 1665), etc.
In 1859–1862 Based on a preliminary publication in the journal “Orthodox Interlocutor” at the Kazan Theological Academy, a three-volume collected works of Maxim the Greek is published for the first time, including 130 original and translated articles of his (see 14). In 1895 and 1897 Volumes 1 and 3 were republished, and in 1910–1911. in the Trinity-Sergius Lavra, a Russian translation of the works of the Holy Mountain is published, and the second volume of the Kazan edition was made the first of the Lavra, since the moralizing works contained in it were considered the most important (see 15). Researchers are still forced to use these publications, although the Kazan edition does not meet the requirements of modern science. It uses, as the compilers indicate (14, “, 19), four relatively late manuscripts: one from the end of the 16th century. and three from the 17th century. N.V. Sinitsyna established that three of these manuscripts actually date back to the end of the 16th century. and constitute the Solovetsky collection she identified (see 7), to which several more manuscripts belong (see 106, 265–271). According to D. M. Bulanin, the Kazan edition was based on only one manuscript from 1660.
from the collection of the Solovetsky Monastery, the latest and most complete of those indicated by the compilers (see 8). The texts in the Kazan edition are given without discrepancies, there is no detailed commentary on them, and there are many errors. The Lavra edition is not distinguished by an adequate translation into modern Russian, especially since it was made at the beginning of the century. Individual works by Maxim the Greek have been and continue to be published in various editions (see publications marked with an asterisk in the bibliography located at the end of this book).
In the 19th century Maxim's legacy, his biography and legends about him become the object of scientific analysis. Some of the first serious studies were articles by G. Tereshchenko (see 114) and Filaret Gumilevsky (see 120). Then a mass of scientific, semi-scientific and completely unscientific publications appear. Among the works of the first kind, one can highlight the fundamental studies of S. A. Belokurov (see 24), E. E. Golubinsky (see 38) and V. S. Ikonnikov (see 58), which have not lost much of their significance to this day.
Among Western scientists, I. Denisov, G. Papamikhail, R. Klosterman, B. Schultze, D. Haney and others were and are interested in the legacy of the Greek. Some modern researchers, for example, the American Slavist H. Olmsted, are conducting, in parallel with Soviet specialists, preliminary work on preparing a scientific edition of the works of Maxim the Greek, the absence of which is the main obstacle to further research into the creative heritage of the Athonite (see 106, 6).
The most significant contribution to the study of the life and work of the thinker is made by Soviet scientists, mainly literary scholars and historians. In addition to the monographic studies by N.V. Sinitsyna and A.I. Ivanov, specially dedicated to the Greek, large sections about him are placed in the books of A.A. Zimin, N.A. Kazakova, L.S. Kovtun. Detailed textual work is carried out by D. M. Bulanin. Certain aspects related to Maxim are discussed in articles by O. A. Belobrova, B. M. Kloss, N. N. Pokrovsky, V. F. Rzhiga, B. L. Fonkich, A. T. Shashkov, S. O. Shmidt, in reviews of the book by I. Denisov, owned by S. M. Kashtanov and A. I. Klibanov, and other publications, the number of which increases every year. A Russian translation has been published from the modern Greek historical novel by M. Alexandropoulos “Scenes from the Life of Maxim the Greek” (Moscow, 1980).
The interesting personality of Mikhail Trivolis, his unusual fate and extensive creative heritage, unfortunately, have not yet attracted the interest of philosophers. This does not mean a complete absence of attempts at philosophical analysis, but such attempts belong to historians and philologists. In the first volume of “History of Philosophy in the USSR” there is a small section written by I. A. Kazakova and Y. S. Lurie (see 61, 214–216); the Philosophical Encyclopedia contains a short article by A. I. Klibanov (see 121, 3, 283); A.I. Ivanov tried to consider the “Neoplatonism of Maxim the Greek” (see 56, 35, 119–122). A number of considerations concerning the worldview and philosophical views of the thinker are found in the works of V. S. Ikonnikov, I. Denisov, B. Schultze, V. F. Rzhiga, N. V. Sinitsyna, D. M. Bulanin and other authors. The greatest attention was paid to this side of the Greek heritage by the American researcher J. Haney.
His book “From Italy to Muscovy”, published in the series “Humanistische Bibliothek” (Munich, 1973), in addition to general comments throughout the text, contains a special chapter “Philosophical Speculation”, quite significant in volume and interesting in content, although not indisputable in a number of conclusions (139, 113–160). The creative heritage of one of the most philosophical writers in the history of Russian culture undoubtedly deserves a special historical and philosophical monographic study.
Chapter II. Enlightening your brothers
1. Translator and commentator
Maxim Grek is invited to Russia primarily as an expert in Byzantine literature, some of whose works he could correctly translate and comment on. In those years, rumors spread widely about the most valuable library of the Moscow sovereigns, composed not only of medieval, but also ancient manuscripts that were brought by Sophia Paleologus. This treasury of the Byzantine emperors was allegedly delivered by the bride of Ivan III as a kind of dowry. There are persistent rumors that it contains unique texts not only of the famous works of Homer, Aristotle, Tacitus, but also the lost works of Cicero, Calvus, Pindar and other authors.
Many scientists of the 18th-19th centuries were interested in the mysteriously disappeared library. Disputes about its existence continue to this day. And if S. A. Belokurov in his major study “On the Library of the Moscow Sovereigns” proves that there is no library and never was, then his no less authoritative opponents - I. E. Zabelin, N. P. Likhachev, A. I. Sobolevsky argue that there was a treasury, but it was either scattered among other book collections, or perished in one of the countless Moscow fires, or is still kept in the Kremlin dungeons. In the 30s of our century, a special commission was created to search for an underground book depository; the search was conducted by the convinced enthusiast I. Stelletsky, who, while still a student, was looking for the equally famous library of Yaroslav the Wise in the Kyiv caves. The work, soon interrupted, did not produce results, but in 1960, Academician M. N. Tikhomirov again raised the issue of searching for book treasures. After the Qumran and other finds, the hope of finding lost manuscripts again takes possession of the minds of people (see 115, 281–291).
In one of the legends about Maxim the Greek, a colorful and even somewhat exaggerated story is told about how the Grand Duke introduces him to his famous library and how the monk is amazed at its wealth: “When the Grand Duke saw a lot of books in the royal book depository of the Greek language, he was surprised and told the Grand Duke, as not in the Greek land were so many books granted see..." (23, appendix, VIII). Of course, the Athos resident is given not Homer or Aristotle to translate, but a book, the need for which was greatest in those conditions. He is tasked with translating the Explanatory Psalter.
The Psalter, created in the traditions of Hebrew hymnography, became one of the most widespread books in the Middle Ages. After the ABC and the Book of Hours, it was the next required book to study. At the same time, it is not a dry textbook, but a deeply poetic work: “The Psalms are saturated with genuine poetic feeling, preserved in their Slavic translation” (88, 43). In addition to the liturgical Psalter, there was also a fortune-telling book, from which, opening the book at random, they tried to find out their fate, symbolically interpreting the lines of one of the 150 psalms. In the Middle Ages, the Explanatory Psalter, significant in volume and complex in its theological and philosophical interpretation, appeared. If the liturgical (followed) Psalter was translated into the Slavic language by the enlighteners Cyril and Methodius, the fortune-telling book was already used by Vladimir Monomakh, then the Explanatory Psalter was not fully translated into Russian even by the beginning of the 16th century, and only the interpretations of Athanasius of Alexandria and Theodoret were used (see 74, 165–166).
Only a scribe who was thoroughly prepared in philological, theological and philosophical terms could be entrusted with such work.
Maxim is given help from Dmitry Gerasimov and Vlasiy - “experienced embassy interpreters, as well as major diplomats of the time, participants in embassies to different countries” (106, 62). Suffice it to say that during his stay in Rome, Gerasimov translated the Latin grammar of Donatus, then in Novgorod he took part in the translation of some parts of the Vulgate, the Latin Bible, and later, in 1535, he translated the Explanatory Psalter of Bruno of Würzburg. The Russian people were not such hopeless ignoramuses as, for example, G. Papamikhail tries to imagine in his book “Maxim the Greek - the first educator of the Russians” (see 156). Afonets translates from Greek into Latin, his assistants translate from Latin into Russian, and Selivan and Mikhail Medovartsev carefully rewrite the finished translation. It was a collective effort, led by Maxim. His scientific conscientiousness is evidenced by the fact that, having seen the malfunction of the list of the Greek Psalter from which the translation was made, he decides to go to his “purpose” (see 73, 50).
Maxim the Greek calls the Explanatory Psalter a “vessel of spiritual honey,” a “spiritual heirloom,” a “mental paradise,” containing “a feological order and dogma, an inconvenient inexhaustible abyss.” He examines the interpretations of Theodoret, Eusebius, Apollinaris, Didymus and other highly exegetical minds of the late antique and early medieval era. Some of them “simply lay down” (literally), others “allegorically” (allegorically), and others “more elaborate and worldly” (anagogically, in the highest sacred sense) interpret the Psalter. Maxim especially singles out Origen, the largest representative of pre-Nicene patristics, who, by Christianizing Platonism, “turned faith in the Creator and knowledge of creatures, turned to wickedness by philosophers, to piety” (91, 3). He calls Origen a strong “adamant” (diamond), as if a kind of touchstone, on which every thinking person should test his mind, for Origen was “a most illustrious man, thoroughly learned in every philosophical teaching,” as they say about him in the legend translated by the Athonite (see 5, l. 100).
But the authority of this famous Alexandrian philosopher of the 3rd century. n. e. recognized only that part of his teaching that was not condemned by the Council of Nicaea, as it is written in the margins of the Psalter - “previously heresy.”
For a year and a half, the Holy Mountain resident and his assistants were “engulfed in the labor of preaching the Psalter.” A huge amount of work has been done: when the book is printed in 1896, it, together with accompanying material, will occupy 1042 sheets (see 55, 40). For example, just one initial line of the first psalm - “Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked” - is followed by an interpretation on more than one and a half dozen pages of a large format manuscript (see 12, l. 11-19). And these are not empty words, but thoughts filled with deep meaning: Theodoret reflects on the importance of the first step, which can lead to the abyss or to salvation; Origen speaks of it as the first step of the ladder, “there is a distance from the earth.” This is the great beginning of “weaning off evil” and “exercise of every work.” The remaining hundreds of pages of the Explanatory Psalter, a monument very characteristic of medieval literature, are filled with similar thoughtful considerations.
Maxim turns to the Psalter more than once. In Tver he rewrites the canonical Greek text of the monument; in the Trinity-Sergius Monastery, teaching Greek to Nila Kurlyateva, he translates the Psalter into Russian; at different times he writes interpretations of individual psalms. For example, in a letter to a certain “Mr. Ivan,” the thinker, promising to fill the mind of his addressee with “wisdom and lofty intelligence,” symbolically interprets a number of psalms (see 14, 3, 5 – 22). In the “Tale partly on the 18th Psalm,” the Athonite interprets the phrase “Put your settlement in the suns,” and by the “Ethiopian people” mentioned in the 73rd Psalm, he means not only the believing Ethiopians, “but also everyone who is everywhere with the fire of divine love, faithful people burning with the fire of divine love, this is the speech of Ephischia, Hellenic beings the proverb that is being interpreted in your conversation is that the country was burned” (ibid., 30).
Maxim uses the skills he acquired in Italy in philological criticism of sources, rightly believing that old texts “have been damaged by time or the ignorance of the clerks has corrupted.” Thus, he discovers that some psalter interpretations, inscribed with the name of John Chrysostom, are not such. The Athonite criticizes incorrect translations in the Book of Hours and the Triodion, which lead to gross semantic errors. To the horror of some scribes, he orders the incorrectly translated words of the canonical texts to be erased and replaces them with new ones, considering his interpretation to be more accurate. But, “guided exclusively by scientific-critical considerations” (50, 167), the Greek scientist ignores the peculiarities of Russian reality and his own bold one. His criticism sometimes seriously hurts established traditions, for which he will pay in court. However, Maxim himself does not consider himself sinless, having subsequently admitted a number of inaccuracies.
Considering the “Hellenic voice”, which “in the rhetorical gravity of the ancient men is quite bound and hidden by intentions,” is difficult to convey in Russian speech, he handles the polysemantic Greek vocabulary very carefully. His translation rules, “either from books for those who are enlightened, or those who understand from themselves,” are as follows: remove obvious errors, correct inaccurately translated words, leave incomprehensible passages the same, but do not add anything of your own (see 14, 2, 312–313).
In addition to the psalter texts, the Greek translates and subsequently partially comments on the works of John Chrysostom, Basil the Great, Gregory the Theologian, Cyril of Alexandria, Maximus the Confessor, Symeon Metaphrastus and many other authors revered at that time. Among these translations is “The Discourse on How the Pious Thought of the Autocrat Will Grow,” belonging to Josephus, whose work is to a certain extent comparable with the work of Philo of Alexandria, who, according to F. Engels, gave a synthesis of allegorically understood “Jewish traditions with Greek, namely Stoic, philosophy” (1, 19, 307). This “philosophical word” proves “the position of the dominance of reason over the sensations of physical suffering” (55, 68). The Athonite scribe translates not only from Greek and not only canonical literature. He owns, for example, a translation of the Latin story “The Capture of Constantinople by the Turks” by Aeneas Silvius, published from one of the manuscripts of the State Historical Museum in 1975 by B. M. Kloss (see 71).
Of great interest are translations from the Byzantine encyclopedic collection of the 10th century. “Judgments” (see 153), “Greek philosophical books verb Suidas”, which is “something in between explanatory, grammatical, etymological dictionaries” (144, 563). These include “The Tale of Origen”, “The Tale of the Sibyls”, “Praise to the Primeval Adam” and other articles with lexicographical, historical, mythological and philosophical content, selected by Maxim from the first printed edition of “The Courts” (Milan, 1499), which he brought with him to Moscow. The Rumyantsev collection is unique in this regard, having no analogues in comparison with other manuscripts of the works of the Athonite man and containing the largest number of his translations (see 5, l. 305–315. 106, 58–61). Reminiscences from “The Court” and the use of thoughts gleaned from there permeate all of Greek’s work. Leningrad researcher D. M. Bulanin, after a thorough textual analysis, compiled a set of translations and borrowings from this source (see 29, 279–283).
It is from the “Judgment,” as the analysis of the texts shows, that the ideas about philosophers and the teachings of thinkers of the past (Epicurus, the Stoics) contained in the works of Maximus are drawn. They, only to some extent reflecting the Holy Mountain dweller’s own attitude to the classical heritage, are rather the official Byzantine assessment of ancient philosophy. One of these inadequate, but very symptomatic sources is the article “Plato the Philosopher”, given in the appendix. Obviously, from the “Judgment” Maxim also borrows Heraclitus’s thought about fasting, which is indicative of the selective attitude of medieval interpreters: “Heraclitus, the philosopher, says: it is not fitting for one’s body to be careless... Feed it with the worst meats.” (83, 196).
The creativity of the Athos native influenced the creation of domestic explanatory dictionaries of an encyclopedic nature, similar to the “Court,” which explained incomprehensible words of Greek, Latin, Hebrew and other languages and contained the most important categories of abstract thinking, including those of a philosophical nature. “From ancient times, abstract philosophical terms began to be established in our language: being alien to the spoken language, they were explained in dictionaries,” notes the leading expert on Old Russian lexicography L. S. Kovtun (74, 257). Long before the Greek, “A Talk about Unreasonable Words”, “The Speech of Greek Subtlety” and other reference manuals of this kind were circulated in the Russian environment, but only after him such extensive and systematized dictionaries were developed, such as the Azbukovniks, containing not only an interpretation of terms, often with an analysis of their etymology, but also entire articles on philosophy, extracts from various authors, information about the great minds of the past.
Various articles, interpretations, and answers by Maxim are widely used in Azbukovniki, but his main lexicographical work is “Interpretation of Names in Alphabet,” containing words explained on the basis of the semantics and syntax of the Greek language (see 73, 193). In the “Interpretation” of the Greek published by L. S. Kovtun, about 300 words, mostly foreign names, are explained. For example, Maxim gives almost forty names formed from the root her (good), simultaneously explaining the Greek words: Evlampius - “good-brightened”, Eugene - “noble”, Evstratiy - “good warrior”, Evgraf - “good writer”, etc. Among the names there is also Philosopher - “wise-lover”, who, by the way, was listed in the Orthodox calendar. From the words - names of a philosophical plan we can distinguish: Epistimiy - “art, knowledge”; Hesychius - “silent, silent, silent”; Maxim - “a Roman proverb, but the interpretation is megistos, the hedgehog is the greatest”; Plato – “wide”; Sophia - “wisdom”; Hypatius - “name of the great king’s ellini” (ibid., 313–349).
The philological practice of the Athos resident and his theoretical views serve as the basis for the compilation of extensive collections undertaken by Macarius in the 16th century, and the editing of books by Nikon in the 17th century. Maxim’s activities also lie at the origins of Russian book printing. “The fact that the first printers printed exactly those books that Maxim the Greek corrected (Apostle, Psalter, Book of Hours, Tsvetnaya Triodion, etc.) allows us to establish the direct historical continuity of the activities of Maxim the Greek with the activities of Ivan Fedorov and his successors” (54, 55). Academician A. S. Orlov and I. V. Novosadsky explain the “high literacy” and spelling of the Apostle of 1564, the first Russian dated printed book, by extensive preliminary work in which “one can see traces of the influence of such a grammarian as Maxim the Greek.”
The encyclopedic knowledge of the Athonite scribe is amazing. He explains the terms, gives their etymology, gives examples from what he has read and seen in a variety of areas: what is the Greek “acrostic” and the Latin “pieta”; who were the “well-read Pallas” and the “much-wise Odysseus”; how the Trojan War and the wars between Rome and Carthage took place; who are the prophetesses of the Sibyls, etc. He explains the Greek concepts technikos (technikos - skillful), sophos (sophos - wise) and gnostikos (gnosticos - cognitive), misunderstood by Russian translators.
From the Greek, for the first time, Russian people learned about the existence of Cuba and the Moluccas, known to Europeans after the Great Geographical Discoveries. Maxim reports about the Spanish port of Cadiz near the Strait of Gibraltar, the “pillars of Irakleian”, from where many expeditions depart: “...the current people of Portugal, Spain, with all danger, sail great ships... and they found many islands, some squalidly inhabited by people, and others empty, and the greatest land called Cuba...” The Europeans also discovered “the seven islands of Molucidi called, in them will be born cinnamon and cloves and other fragrant aromas, which until then were not known to any human race, but are now known to everyone” (14, 3, 43–44). Maximus describes how they converted the natives to the Catholic faith, sent seeds of European plants, founded settlements and created the New World - “and now there is a new world and a new creation of man.” These curious facts interested, in particular, Cuban readers (see 142).
From the works of Maxim the Greek, the Russian reader learned a lot of new and instructive things, which is why his authority was so great. But, of course, one should not exaggerate the capabilities of the Athonite scientist. Even if he were the most talented of people, even if he studied at the best universities in Europe, he still would not be able to contain the entirety of the knowledge of his era and always give the correct assessment of it. Maxim also contains subjective interpretations, distrust of secular science, and a desire to explain empirical facts with a higher sacred meaning, which is very characteristic of the medieval worldview system, when the dominant method “was deductive, since it proceeded from the general concepts of the Christian doctrine of salvation, moving from them to particular phenomena of the material world” (133, 531).
An example of an erroneous interpretation is the decoding of the emblem of the printed publications of Aldus Manutius, representing a dolphin entwined around an anchor: “And with an anchor he shows the strength and strength of faith, and with a fish - the soul of man.” But, as an honest commentator, he explains the subjectivity of his interpretation: “To the extent that the thought of Moa Hudaa is comprehended, that is what he said” (5, l. 99–99 vol.). Maxim does not consider it shameful to constantly study, but he takes as a shame the ignorance displayed on display, which is considered to be genuine knowledge: “... it is a shame for a questioner to learn from others, but it is a shame for an ignorant person to give advice” (14, 3, 41). About himself, even in old age, he writes: “... I myself am eager to learn.”
To the Russian people of the 16th century, whom he “instructed on the path of true knowledge,” the Athonite appears to be a man of unprecedented abilities and immense knowledge, largely due to the lack of broad modern European education in their environment, which, however, should not be absolutized, because the interests of even the most developed part of feudal Russian society then still lay in the medieval sphere, typologically fundamentally different from the Renaissance system of values. And Maxim the Greek, with all the complexity of his views and attraction to the medieval worldview, to a certain extent contributed to the formation of a new view of the world, especially in the field of thinking and language, inextricably linked in the mind “as a process and a means of its implementation” (126, 69).
2. Polemicist and denouncer of ignorance
Maxim the Greek is not a dispassionate interpreter of wise books and a learned hermit detached from life. He appears in his writings as a passionate polemicist and tireless denouncer of ignorance. “A brilliantly talented and highly educated man in the strictest sense of the word, he had a special innate inclination towards the activities of a prophet or publicist and exposer” (38, first half, 666). Having become accustomed to Russian reality, Maxim begins to act as a publicist, responding to the most pressing issues. He conducts polemics on acute social, dogmatic, and philosophical issues in parallel with his translation and commentary activities, often in connection with it, but sometimes completely independently of it.
The papal throne has long wanted to subordinate Muscovy to its influence, indignant at the “Russian schismatics” for their independent policy. Attempts are being made to impose the rejected Union of Florence, Catholic propaganda is being conducted both by individuals specially sent under various pretexts and by Western specialists living in Russia. Among the latter, Nikolai Bulev stands out, who “as a doctor for the sake of cunning” received a great honor from Vasily III. Well educated physician; astrologer and publicist. Boolev enjoys considerable influence at court. He owns the “first translated medical treatise” in Rus' - “Travnik”, made on behalf of Metropolitan Daniel from a German printed edition (Lübeck, 1492) based on the Italian original (see 51, 82). At the same time, Bulev, according to some assumptions, is a secret agent of Pope Julius II, receiving a certain amount annually for “efforts to achieve the union of churches and even simply for information” (34, 48).
Bulev seeks to influence some nobles, in particular Fyodor Ivanovich Karpov, a prominent diplomat, a “Western boyar” (V.F. Rzhiga). Karpov appears as one of the most thoughtful people in Russian society of that time. He shares his doubts with Maxim: “Now I am exhausted in my mind, I have fallen into the depths of doubt...” (14, 3, 2.75). Tempted by Boolean. Fyodor Karpov seeks advice from a resident of Athos, experienced in matters of dogma and well versed in Catholic teaching. The Svyatogorets, whose personal modesty does not prevent him from declaring himself: “... Maxim is nothing in the most famous feology,” sends several messages to Karpov, where he denounces; "Latin beauty"
Maxim criticizes the dogma of purgatory as a “destructive Origen heresy” that distorts the Christian teaching about the Last Judgment and makes people lazy towards a righteous life. The Greek also criticizes the dogma of the origin of St. Spirit from the Son (Filioque) and other Catholic postulates, incompatible, in his opinion, with the spirit of the Gospel teaching. Boolev appears in Maxim's assessment as a lying shepherd; dressing up in the clothes of a true teacher, like a “charming sophist.” The argument of the Athonite, as noted by the Catholic researcher B. Schultze, who is not indifferent to it (see 152), looks traditional, based on the previous experience of a long anti-Catholic polemic that has been going on since the split of the Western and Eastern churches in the 11th century. The fact that Maxim uses the works of Orthodox theologians is an indisputable fact. But he also introduces modern motifs into his polemical writings.
Maxim the Greek opposes such a “novelty” as the mathematical interpretation of the highest mysteries of existence expressed in religious ideas. The enlightened "German", whose learning is also recognized by the Greek, uses the expression of the mystery of the Trinity found in Nicholas of Cusa and later in Kepler through a geometric image, which is very characteristic of the Renaissance, associated with the flowering of natural science. The Trinity is depicted by Boolean as an equilateral triangle inscribed in a circle, the corners of which symbolize the three hypostases of the deity, and the circumference - the path of St. Luha, connecting them into a single whole. Maxim criticizes “this triangular image”, created “by the Pythagorean philosopher” who revered the “triple number”, or rather, the attempt to present this symbol, a sign that has only an allegorical – illustrative function, as an adequate explanation or convincing evidence. These images, in the words of Gregory the Theologian, quoted by the Athos resident, “are seductive and far removed from the truth” (14, “, 315).
In this situation, Maxim acts not as an Orthodox orthodox, as someone who is afraid of all scientific innovations, but rather as a serious thinker who does not agree with the “positivist” attempt to talk about complex theological and philosophical problems in the language of exact science. Such attempts are made, especially in the post-Renaissance era, constantly, but they ultimately turn out to be untenable, because it is fundamentally impossible to replace a philosophical approach to the world with a purely scientific one, to squeeze the complexity and infinity of being into the Procrustean bed of finite definitions of rational thinking. Maxim also criticizes Boolean for the fact that his metaphysical reasoning is illogical (does not have “affirmation” from “dialectical art”). Wanting to defeat his opponent with his own weapons, he uses the rule of syllogism - “the proposition is more false, and the conclusion is more false” (ibid., 316).
Maxim Grek himself is in correspondence with Boolev, and on the initiative of the “much-taught German”. Recognizing the “wisdom of the wonderful Nicholas,” he nevertheless enters into an argument with him on another topical issue - astrology. Having become a kind of surrogate for religion during the Renaissance, this heavenly pseudoscience is gaining unprecedented popularity in all European countries. Maxim himself was once fascinated by this “false wisdom,” departments of which existed at Padua, Bologna, Paris and other universities. In those days, every self-respecting European nobleman had a home astrologer, every person striving to keep up with the times certainly acquired a horoscope, and everyone looked superstitiously at the night sky mysteriously twinkling with stars.
The fundamental astrological treatise “Tetrabiblio” (“Four Books”), attributed to Ptolemy, states that “the power that emanates from the eternal parts of the ether extends to every object,” to all living beings (44, 35). People, unlike animals who are blindly carried away by inexorable fate, can grasp the astrological connection of things and phenomena. The teaching about genigurs helps them draw up a lifelong horoscope based on the time of birth under a certain combination of luminaries, and the teaching about initiations allows them to choose the most favorable day and hour for certain affairs. If the first teaching fatally condemns a person to a life path that does not depend on his will, then the second gives the opportunity for a certain choice, which, however, does not cancel the heavenly fate.
Not only ignorant ordinary people, but also such enlightened minds as Campanella, Marsilio Ficino, Bacon, Kepler, pay tribute to astrology. The Western Church has different attitudes towards it: some popes (Paul III) do nothing without the “indication of the stars”, others (Sixtus V) write bulls against the false “art of foreseeing the future.” At the beginning of the 14th century. Peter of Aponsky makes “an attempt to build a philosophy of religion with the help of astrology...” (ibid., 13). In the 16th century the Protestant ideologist Melanchthon teaches a course in astrology at the University of Wittenberg, and the great Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe draws up horoscopes for the children of Elector Frederick, one of which, for Hans, comes true. He foreshadowed the young man’s poor health and short life, predicting great danger at the age of eighteen “from Saturn,” and the young prince, who arrived as the groom of Boris Godunov’s daughter Ksenia, from. illness dies in Moscow, without having time to get married. Astrology will also take root at the Moscow court.
When Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich gives birth to Tsarevich Peter, the future transformer of Russia, the courtier Simeon of Polotsk will draw up a horoscope foretelling a brilliant future for the baby, for which he will be generously rewarded with the sovereign's favor.
Nikolai Bulev translates into Russian the astrological work “Almanac” (in abbreviation), which was later classified as apocryphal. The Almanac, owned by the German astrologer and mathematics professor Johann Steffler, contained a prediction of a new global flood in 1524, since three planets would converge in the constellation Pisces. Many in enlightened Europe believe this terrible prophecy, abandon their affairs, confess their sins and even prepare arks for salvation. Of course, no flood occurs, and Maxim, who had earlier opposed this prediction “in the entire book of almanacs” (which, by the way, was published in a printed edition in Venice in 1513 and 1518), ironically remarks about the inglorious end of the “charming and stargazer” Boolean, who undertook to predict a world catastrophe, but was unable to predict his own fate: “You were in a hurry to foretell the end of your life, O Nicholas, obey the stars, but you were not able to predict the sudden destruction of your life, you could not foretell it” (14, “, 455). What happened to Boolean is not known exactly.
It is believed that he either fell into disgrace or died suddenly.
Maxim the Greek resolutely opposes astrology not only because it rejects divine providence and introduces the “ontology of evil,” which supposedly exists from eternity in nature, but also because it deprives man of “autocracy.” The Athonite, relying on Augustine and Chrysostom, condemns “stargazing - knowledge” for trampling on human free will. Astrology makes the desire for good unnecessary; it removes responsibility for behavior from the individual. “Which star-gazing art cannot teach chastity, purity or truth and courage,” exclaims Maxim. The Greek refers not only to the fathers of the church, but to “the most honest and most passionately loving Hellenic philosophers,” including the one most revered by him: “... and Plato himself, the supreme external philosopher, drives her far away from the philosophical citizenship established by law,” that is, expels her from a society based on philosophical (understood as wise and fair) laws (ibid., 354).
Maxim not only polemicizes theoretically, he cites evidence from the ancients and historical facts. Did Themistocles defeat the Persians with stargazing? Didn’t Scipio “destroy” Carthage, “Anibal’s fatherland”, with his valor? The Holy Mountaineer believes that astrologers, “royal treasure drainers,” are accepted only by cowardly rulers, and the strong in spirit drive them away, welcoming philosophers as true sages and true advisers, which was done, for example, by Alexander the Great, who brought Aristotle closer - the “amazed Stagirite.” The thinker invites modern fans of astrology, who so love to refer to antiquity, to point out evidence in their favor, and if they do this, then he. I’m ready to agree with them: “Where, tell us, if you have it, give us evidence of it being written off, and we’ll make peace with you” (ibid., 359).
The Svyatogorets also cites the facts he saw - “this is what I see in my eyes.” He talks about the “blessed and multinational” Milan, which was ruled by “Ludovik, called Moros” (Lodovico Moro). The local “star seducer” Ambrosio de Rosato, “having the primacy of the then astrologer” (and together with the former great astronomer, physician and philosopher, author of “Monumenta Philoso, phiae et Astronomiae”), predicted the Duke of Milan dominion over all of Italy, for which the ambitious ruler “has stirred up all Italian things and countless bloodshed shed” committed, but was defeated and “shamefully died” in captivity. “Such was his end, a star seducer who believed” (ibid., 429).
The Greek also turns to Russian reality. He cites as an example the glorious victory on the Kulikovo field, where Dmitry Donskoy, “who destroyed everything like the countless army of the godless Mamai, with which, acting as stars, he consumed the godless?” (ibid., 357). Assessing the “stargazing charm” as a whole, the Athonite agrees with the opinion of Aristotle, who believed that astrology does not have final truth and is neither foresight nor science: “... there is a final truth and ... there is below vision, below art.”
Maxim condemns the astrological belief in initiatives - signs and superstitious recommendations: “Now many people listen to many from Christians, and observe the days and hours and times and receive signs.” He also speaks out against the wheel of Fortune, represented “in the image of an old wife, who by the wheel raises both to the heights of zemstvo glory, while reducing others from there to final disgrace” (14, “, 437). Criticizing Fortune, the teaching of which has been very widespread since ancient times (see 150), he points out that the blind man calls her “a certain Hellenic sage by the name of Kevis.” This is none other than the student of Socrates, the philosopher Cebes (Cebet of Thebes), one of the characters in Plato’s Phaedo (see 28, 71). To a certain extent, Maxim’s anti-astrological polemic echoes the argumentation of some Renaissance thinkers; in any case, he shares the thesis of Pico della Mirandola that “belief in the stars is godless and immoral” (30, 2, 268). The Greek differs from Russian authors, for example Philotheus and Joseph Volotsky, in his deeper philosophical criticism of astrology (see 106, 102).
While noting Maxim’s merits in exposing fatalistic teachings, one should not imagine the Athonite monk as a brilliant thinker who was head and shoulders above many European luminaries of knowledge who were carried away by “star-gazing charm.” Astrology represents a complex phenomenon in the culture of the past; it acts as a unique attempt to establish the relationship between man and the universe, subject to an objective pattern in which there is no place for subjective arbitrariness. “...Auguste Comte believed that astrology represents the first effort of human thought to create a system of philosophy of history...” (44, 14). Although this is not entirely true, since similar efforts were made earlier and by other methods, astrology, as an amazing phenomenon of universal human consciousness, which has had many adherents for many centuries, deserves close attention as a primitive and distorted way of understanding the world, as a historical form of thinking.
Maximus the Greek also denounces the apocrypha - renounced books, very characteristic of the Middle Ages, which were distributed from the Hellenistic period not without the influence of Gnostic philosophy. Maxim does not just attack them, he uses his inherent methods of critical analysis of sources: “It is appropriate to know that all writing has three certain properties that are fairly reliable.” He finds out: (1) whether the text belongs to the “famous copyist” and whether it is forged; (2) whether it is consistent with “apostolic dogma and tradition”; (3) whether there is an internal contradiction in it itself. Analysis of the “Tale of Aphroditian”, which tells about the “miracle in the Persian land”, where supposedly pagan idols started dancing after learning about the birth of Christ, is a vivid example of criticism of “the intentions of the unlearned mind” (14, 3, 125–149).
Among the apocrypha there are the so-called “natural science” ones, containing natural philosophical, medical, cosmological and other ideas, intricately combined with fantastic motifs. During the time of the Greek, “Lucidarius” appeared in Rus', known under different names and representing a slightly modified translation of the German text “Eiiicidarium”, known as the folk “Klfine Kosniographia”, which in turn goes back to one of the works of Honorius of Autun (see 58, 333–336). The Apocrypha is a conversation between an inquisitive student and a wise teacher, giving answers to a wide variety of questions. Maxim shows that this book, revered by many as the highest revelation of reason, is an eclectic mixture of ancient and medieval views - “the rubbish of Hellenic proverbs” mixed with an incorrect interpretation of Christian teaching. He criticizes the image of the Creator as a potter who creates people and things out of “chaos or mud.” “The “Ilin” that Maxim is talking about here is the Greek hyle, Aristotle’s potential matter, being in possibility” (100, 44).
“Lucidarius”, translated as “Enlightener”, Maxim ironically calls “Obtenebrarius”, i.e. “Dimmer”. It, along with some other apocrypha, is included in the category of renounced books. The legend about Aphroditian is placed in the “Great Menaion of Chetya” by Metropolitan Macarius, which was “a kind of encyclopedia of Russian feudal society...” (61, 177). Ideological considerations (an attack in the name of Orthodoxy against the Persian Empire, one of the strongholds of Islam) turn out to be stronger than the principles of scientific criticism. Some of the apocrypha criticized by the Greek will be included in the index of prohibited works of the “Cyril Book” of 1644. There, in the list of recommended literature, among the names of Dionysius the Areopagite, John of Damascus, Maximus the Confessor, Augustine and other authorities, the name of Maximus the Greek will be placed (see 69, l. 3 vol.). In addition to written texts, Maxim criticizes various fantastic legends, absurd rumors and everyday superstitions that abound in Russian life of that time (see 98).
The Holy Mountain resident denounces the barbaric custom of tearing out the “bodies of drowned or murdered people” from their graves and throwing them away without burial as “crazy charm”, since they supposedly cause a cold that is destructive to plants. In this case, Maxim is outraged not by the lack of knowledge about nature, but by the inhumanity of such an action (see 14, 3, 170–178).
The compilers of the Kazan edition of the thinker’s works characterize his educational activities in the following way: “Contemporaries could not appreciate the great merits of Maxim: for their eyes, darkened by ignorance, the light of truth with which he revealed to them the errors and vices of them was too sharp... But for us, his works become all the more precious, in which his high and bright personality and the dark features of his time were fully reflected” (14, “, 6–7). Perhaps it is said too straightforwardly and not entirely accurately, but there is a significant amount of truth in these words.
3. Unity of logos and sophia
A harsh denouncer of ignorance, Maxim does not condemn people who are stricken by ignorance; he strives to help his unenlightened brothers. Enlightenment, in the broad sense of the word, pathos permeates many of the works of the educated thinker. The Greek recalls the years of his stay in Italy, where he studied with men “adorned with much wisdom.” He describes Europe's largest University of Paris as an exemplary center of education, where not only spiritual, but also secular disciplines are taught free of charge to all who come “from Western countries and from Northern countries” (see appendix). By improving in “verbal art,” young men comprehend the depth of “philosophical and theological dogma.” It wouldn’t be a bad idea, the Greek believes, for the Orthodox to adopt a similar system of education: “It is fitting for such people to be and have their own fatherland, just as we boast about nobility and abundance of wealth” (5, l. 225–226). Such a vividly described training at the Sorbonne gave reason to many contemporaries and researchers to believe that Maxim himself studied in Paris.
This was reflected in the French Larousse of the last century (see 147, 1374).
The role of universities and similar educational centers is great. Without them there is no opportunity for the broad development of philosophical knowledge. It is no coincidence that philosophical creativity as a profession and philosophy as a special type of knowledge stood out in Rus' no earlier than the 17th-18th centuries, which was impossible without the founding of the Kiev-Mohyla and Slavic-Greek-Latin academies, the first domestic higher educational institutions that played “the largest role both in the dissemination of philosophical knowledge in our country and in the development of ideas leading to the philosophy of education...” (90, 6). Of course, the diversity of philosophical thought cannot be associated only with the university and academic forms of its development, but without such centers it is difficult to create strong traditions, influential schools and original directions, which is already observed in medieval Europe and which is beyond the power of the most talented individuals and their followers.
Having received thorough training, Maxim competently polemicizes with his contemporary, the Spanish humanist and philosopher Juan Luis Vives, close to Erasmus of Rotterdam and Thomas More. He writes “The Words Opposite” against Vives’s interpretations of Augustine’s work “On the City of God.” The Athonite reproaches Vives for eclecticism (“everyone mixes unmixed”), for placing the “earthly wisdom” of Plato, Aristotle, Origen, Albertus Magnus, Eriugena and other thinkers above divine wisdom. Vives, of course, did not suffer from this criticism, nor did other humanists. The value of the Greek’s work lies not in the fact that he succeeded or failed to refute the thinkers of the Renaissance, but in the fact that he showed his erudition and knowledge of the philosophical heritage.
In this sense, Maxim the Greek acts as an enlightened mentor, although his activities are more medieval with Renaissance elements than Renaissance with elements of the Middle Ages. One can argue about the relationship between the two (see 56), but one thing is indisputable - he was an educated man and a wise teacher. As for the humanists, they were not so invulnerable. Ironizing Vives in his attempts to compare the Nativity of Christ with the birth of Athena - Pallas, showing the inconsistency of the idea of the existence of paradise before the creation of the world, not recognizing Plato as “the most holy” with all due respect to him (see 14, 3, 206-225), Maxim seems more consistent in his judgments than the great Spanish humanist.
How highly the Athonite man values true teachers, so mercilessly he exposes the rogues who dress up in the toga of a mentor. And the world has seen many of these since ancient times. Even the sarcastic Lucian ridiculed the unkempt, rag-clad philosophers who assumed a detached air - charlatans, wandering through cities and countries, confusing the uneducated crowd: “A special type of people appeared on earth, which relatively recently acquired a great influence on human society, people who are idle, grumpy, vain, quick-tempered, dainty, stupid, puffed up with arrogance, full of impudence, in a word, people who represent, in the words of Homer, “a useless burden on the earth” (85, 184), Zeus himself is outraged by their abstruse verbiage and threatens that these false philosophers “together with their dialectics will be exterminated.” No less murderously philosophizing laymen, fans of Moria (Stupidity), are ridiculed by Maximus' contemporary Erasmus of Rotterdam.
It is not easy to distinguish a true mentor from a rogue, and towards the end of his life Maxim creates a curious essay “On Alien Philosophers,” intended to test visiting teachers who “go around cities and lands,” boasting of “all kinds of art” and “book art.” The Athos man composes two verses in Greek, one in “Iroic” (epic hexameter), and the other in “Elegian measure” (elegiac pentameter). If the subject reads and understands the verses offered to him without errors, then “accept him with love and honor,” but “do not hold him by force.” There is a bitter subtext in these lines, in which the Holy Mountain dweller, who himself considered himself an “alien philosopher,” condemns, referring to Homer, those who with a rough hand forcibly restrain a person of a free profession, a bearer of a high cultural mission: “... there is nothing commendable below righteous, but not useful for your land, as Omir says the wise” (14, E, 286-288).
It is no coincidence that Maxim Grek proposes to examine those applying for the high title of teacher with a “language” test. Being a good linguist himself, he believes that true education is unthinkable without good philological preparation, without mastering the art of oral and written speech. Classical Greek education gave a good knowledge of the language, the ability to parse grammatical forms, understand the meaning of terms and grasp the subtlest nuances of speech. By studying Homer, the Byzantines acquired an excellent school of eloquence and acquired “the sum of all arts and knowledge” (30, “, 417). Medieval Latin training, based on the Roman tradition, included among the “seven liberal arts” the initial humanitarian trivium (grammar, rhetoric, dialectic), followed by the mainly “natural science” quadrivium (arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, music). Athos knows both systems of training, but he himself chose the path not of “Western European, scholastic, but of his own, Greek, philological-philosophical” education (38, first half, 667).
In his “Discourse on the Uses of Grammar,” Maxim gives a detailed justification for serious philological preparation, without which true philosophizing is impossible: “Grammar is the beginning and the end of all wisdom” (13, 14). Grammar, divided into spelling, prosody (prosody), syntax and etymology, is understood in a broad sense as the study of language. It precedes the study of any science; it is the door to the church of knowledge, which can only be opened by those who have comprehended it. Grammar is considered by the Greeks to be the threshold of philosophy - “the teaching of the Hellenes is very clever, that is, the beginning of the entrance to philosophy” (5, l. 132). These thoughts of the Holy Mountainer became the property of many people in Rus', for his “Conversation” was included as a “philosophical book,” i.e., the theoretical part, in the well-known “Grammar” of Smotritsky (see 110, l. 347–386).
The thinker emphasizes that only those who have mastered the science of language correctly “logic” and understand “subtle speech.” “And our teaching among the Greeks was very clever... our philosophies were great and wise, and they composed their teachings in a highly sophisticated and embellished way,” Maxim explains the ancient practice of synthesizing philology and philosophy, which required considerable work to master it: “For this reason, we the Greeks demand that we take a long time to learn from a good teacher and learn with much difficulty and beating until it enters our minds” (5, l. 132–132 vol.). The lack of good philological and philosophical training not only prevents you from correctly understanding your native language, but also does not allow you to make a high-quality translation - “...translate... into a foreign language.”
Maxim especially speaks of “divine Hellenic speech,” emphasizing the difficulty of mastering it even for natural Greeks. This language of high culture “is extremely cunning, not every person can achieve its strength to the end, even if someone has spent only a few years with deliberate teachers, even if he is Greek by birth and has a sharp mind” (14, 3, 80). The Greek language has incomparable importance for Russian culture. Not only the alphabet, many concepts of abstract vocabulary, but the very principles and ways of thinking, the ability to “link and weave words”, noted by such an observant philologist as S.S. Averintsev (see 19, 9), our speech has largely learned from highly developed Greek.
Having a great sense of the spirit and structure of the Russian language, Pushkin writes about its “adoption” by the Greek: “In the 11th century, the ancient Greek language suddenly opened to him its vocabulary, a treasury of harmony, bestowed upon him the laws of its thoughtful grammar, its beautiful turns of phrase, the majestic flow of speech; in a word, he adopted him, thus saving him from the slow improvements of time... And such is the element given to us to communicate our thoughts” (quoted from: 88, 5–6). This is one of the consequences of the “transplantation” of Byzantine culture (D.S. Likhachev) that Rus' experienced after its baptism a thousand years ago. And Maxim the Greek in the 16th century. contributed to the improvement of both Russian speech and Russian thinking, proving with all his creativity their organic relationship.
The union of word and wisdom, the unity of love for Logos (philology) and love for Sophia (philosophy) enriches thinking and language. One of the reasons for the unfading greatness of ancient literature lies precisely in the living combination of plastic words and bright thought, an excellent example of which is Plato, a great philosopher and no less great writer. His dialogues represent masterpieces of philosophical wisdom and at the same time highly artistic literary creations.
Maxim the Greek continues the tradition of ancient philosophical dialogue, combining it with biblical, medieval and Renaissance motifs. His most philosophical works were written in the form of a “conversation” between the mind and soul, Philoctimon (the Lover) and Actimon (the Non-covetous), the bishop and God, the Mother of God and sinners. They often take the form of either an address to a certain addressee or to oneself, or an answer to a question that has arisen in the soul or expressed by someone. The dialogical form of the polemical work was borrowed from the Greek by his admirer, the Ukrainian writer and thinker Ivan Vishsny, which is especially evident in his pamphlet “Condemning the Devil of the World Ruler” (see 131, 310).
Dialogue, which makes it possible to express polar concepts, the struggle of different principles, the incompatibility of opposing attitudes, reflects the beating of thought and the inconsistency of being “in all phenomena and processes of nature (including the spirit and society)” (2, 29, 317). Many thinkers in the post-antique period use this expressive form: the dialogue of reason and. wisdom in Augustine; “debate” of soul and body in “Diopter” by Philip the Hermit; conversation of reason, sorrow and joy in Petrarch; Savonarola's dispute between reason and feelings. Unfortunately, in modern philosophical literature, which gravitates toward a ponderous positivist style, this form of presentation does not receive attention, as do many other diverse genres that exist in abundance in all developed languages.
The form of dialogue, among other things, helps to unobtrusively express your thoughts. Maxim Grek skillfully uses this. He does not take the pose of speaking the truth, does not declare his ideas, but reflects, convinces, proves. This is especially clearly seen in the “combatant” of Philoctimon and Actimon. The irritated Covetous, expressing the views of the thinker, the Non-covetous, convinces: “... do not rush, my beloved, to slander”; he calls him “my brother,” not considering his opponent an inveterate villain and a hopeless fool. The truth is not affirmed by violence - “not a single word forces anyone to believe”, but by honest reflection (14, 2, 116). Maxim believes that only those who read them carefully can understand his “parables” and “words,” and to those who are subjectively opposed to him, his speech “is not only not useful, but also extremely dark.” One of the best works of the Athos resident is called “The Word is soul-helping to those who listen earnestly to it.” This name applies to many of the works of the Greek.
In addition to dialogue, Maxim uses a variety of literary forms. “The genre nature of the works of Maxim the Greek is extremely wide: word, word, speeches, song, prayer, story, legend, conversation - monologue,” etc. (106, 53). This variety of genres allows a widely erudite scribe to most fully express his ideas and images. Most of the saint's creations presuppose an addressee; with their help, he comes into direct or indirect contact with like-minded people and opponents, being drawn to the social environment around him by a thousand invisible threads. His works, as a rule, are small in volume, but very rich in ideological content. Wisdom requires brevity, the thinker believes, “there is a need for brevity everywhere.” However, this does not prevent him from creating such lengthy and meaningful works as the polemical treatise “The Word of Accusatory Word on the Hagaryan Deception” (14, “, 77 – 130) and the philosophical dialogue “The mind talks to its soul” (14, 2, 5 – 52).
The extensive educational activities of Maxim the Greek, his desire to connect words with thoughts seem relevant for all times. Without the unity of Logos and Sophia (words and wisdom), literature loses its seriousness, becomes meaningless, and philosophy is deprived of the opportunity to capture the hearts of people. If the word is not inspired by thought, if thought has not found words, then there is neither true art nor true philosophy. In this regard, the Holy Mountainer, together with other ancient Russian authors, can be considered one of the predecessors of that inspired synthesis of thought and word for which Russian culture was so brilliantly famous, especially in the 19th century. It is enough to recall the names of Herzen, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy.
Maxim, having to do with the philosophical and content analysis of language, is a representative of the Byzantine school, in which “they paid great attention to subtle linguistic and, using modern terminology, semiotic studies...” (31, 29). Of course, one should not idealize the Greek; he allows for unusual phrases, cumbersome constructions, complicated phrases, “receiving the best explanation from Greek, then from Latin, then from the Bulgarian language” (111, 264). The union of Logos and Sophia is not an easy matter (for example, the works of Kant and Hegel can remind everyone of this), but in most cases Maxim the Greek managed to combine a smart thought with a well-found word. Being a worthy bearer of the high Hellenic civilization, he rightfully became a wise philosopher and prominent writer of the Russian land, making a significant contribution to the development of our culture.
Chapter III. Moral experience of existence
The medieval idea of philosophy differs significantly from the modern one. From the ancient period, it retains that dominant position that allows it to unite all types of knowledge in a synthesis that has not yet been dissected. Aristotle, a representative of the high classics and the most universal of the Greek thinkers (see 1, 20, 19), created the classification of sciences that underlies the medieval one and the pinnacle of which is “three speculative doctrines: mathematics, the doctrine of nature, the doctrine of the divine...” (Metaph., VI 1, 1026a 19-20). Following Aristotle, John of Damascus in his fundamental treatise “The Source of Knowledge” gives the system of sciences that became the most widespread in the Middle Ages. Philosophy is divided into theoretical and practical. “The theoretical, in turn, is divided into theology, physiology and mathematics, and the practical – into ethics, economics and politics” (59, 53).
Theology, which represents only part of the branched tree of knowledge (the concept of it was introduced by Aristotle - see 112, 24), due to special conditions, begins to dominate over the other sciences; philosophy turns into the “handmaiden of theology.” Confident in their rightness, medieval ideologists did not see anything bad in this, “for if the truth has already been given and accepted, then what could be more worthy of a thinker than its confirmation, justification and defense?” (41, 121). The “philosophical chapters” of Damascene’s treatise, often called “Dialectics,” are “philosophical propaedeutics in the presentation of the basic tenets of Christianity” (59, XV), while the “Source of Knowledge” itself acts as “a compendium of philosophical and theological information, anticipating the “sums” of Western scholastics” (19, 302).
The 3rd and 58th chapters of “Dialectics” contain 6 definitions of philosophy, which at first glance may cause surprise, but if you seriously think about them, then one cannot help but note their continuity with the ancient tradition: “Philosophy is the knowledge of being as such... the knowledge of divine and human things... the thought of death, arbitrary and natural... likening to God to the extent possible for man... the art of arts and the science of sciences... Philosophy is the love of wisdom; and true wisdom is God. Thus, love of God is the true philosophy” (59:118–119). The construction of such a hierarchy of values according to medieval axiology reflects the dominant role of religion, ensuring the stability of feudal society, especially during its formation. “Religion in the Middle Ages was a system of law, a political doctrine, a moral teaching, and a philosophy. It was a synthesis of all the superstructures above the feudal base, at least until this base began to be shaken under the influence of factors leading to capitalism” (76, 89).
John of Damascus is as authoritative for the Orthodox world as Thomas Aquinas is for the Catholic West, and Ibp is Sina for the Muslim East. Maxim the Greek calls him the “Sun of Damascus” and often quotes and refers to John. He read it, of course, in the original language. The works of Damascus began to be translated into Slavic early. In the 10th century John Exarch of Bulgaria translates part of the “Source of Knowledge”. A more complete translation of the Dialectics appears later. In these translations, philosophy sounds like “philosophy,” art “cunning,” science “art,” theoretical knowledge “visual,” practical knowledge “active,” theology “theological teaching” (155, 18–20). Maxim laments that the translations of Damascus in Rus' are incomplete and “are spoiled by the prescribers.” His student Kurbsky only in the 16th century. translates the entire “Theology” (part of the “Source of Knowledge”) and “Dialectics”, but these translations are also far from perfect.
The high level of thinking of Damascus, brought up in the best traditions of Hellenistic culture, is not accessible to many in Rus'. His thoughts are often disseminated in a simplified interpretation, without clear definitions, but with moralizing additions, as can be seen from the text of one of the ABC books: “Philosophy is love for God and for man, and impartiality for earthly things, and for all the perishable and fleeting things of this age. And about Bose, exercise and silence. And prayer is undisturbed by the mind and thought... all visible human things are neglected and the mind and meaning are cleansed and drunk in moderation” (67, 110). There are other definitions of philosophy in Old Russian writing, attributed to Cyril the Philosopher, the first Slavic teacher, and other authorities.
Maxim highly appreciates philosophical wisdom: “A philosophical thing is sacred and truly divine without a little something” (see appendix). She “establishes the beauty of morality and deliberately constitutes citizenship”, establishes goodness and goodness in the world (6, l. 182–182 vol.). And, as one of the ancients said, a philosophical life is better than even a royal one: “... a philosopher does more good in this life than a good king.” This saying is borrowed from “The Court” (29, 282).
In the writings of the church fathers, a division of philosophy arises into “our” (or “internal”) and “external”, secular, most often pagan wisdom (see 42, 25). The Svyatogorets follows this division, emphasizing that “sacred” philosophy “most diligently narrates about God and His truth and all His transient, incomprehensible providence.” He attributes secular philosophy to the “circular teaching”, “to the external sciences”, which can be very useful (“the peripheral teaching is good and essential to human life”), but can also bring harm if they are not inspired by true wisdom. Speaking about the quadrivium (“arithmitikia, musicikia, geometry and astronomy”), the Athonite notes: “It is not this rule of honor that forbids, but acting in such depraved ways” (14,? 362–363). It is not the sciences that are bad in themselves, but their bad use.
Much knowledge does not teach goodness; one must strive for the “highest wisdom.” What is useful to know for the prosperity of agriculture and crafts, for governing the state and waging wars, is not at all worth comprehending for the peace of your soul, whose attention should not be distracted by the endless variety of things and phenomena, by the trifles of everyday life, by the tiring bustle of life boiling around. “For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and yet destroy or injure himself?” (Luke 9:25). Neither external sciences, nor “Academic cunning arrogance,” nor even theology, but only by living in goodness can one find the true meaning of existence.
Maxim recalls the figures of the Renaissance, “when he was in acquaintance,” and among them about “Ses the Philosopher of Naples” (Neapolitan philosopher Agostino Nifo, an Averroist who was almost condemned by the Inquisition) (see 58, 112). This critical thinker called church teaching a deception, and when going to church, he said to his friends: “... let us also go to common delight.” "ABOUT! How many times have I known in Italy, suffering from pagan wickedness and quarreling over our most honest secrets,” Maxim sadly notes, believing that without escaping from there he would have become like this: “... and I would have perished with the representatives of the wickedness that exist there” (14, 1, 463). But he returned to the “path of true piety.” The Athonite people consider knowledge to be inseparable from religion, and reason, referring to the prophet Isaiah, considers it to be a product of faith: “For the offspring of faith is reason, as Isaiah’s wise saying clearly says: if you do not believe, you cannot understand” (14, 2, 55). Nicholas of Cusa refers to the same thought of Isaiah, who considers faith, in the broad sense of the word, to be the basis of knowledge: “Where there is no healthy faith, there is no real understanding” (21, 2, 73).
The Greek’s attitude to “external” wisdom is evidenced by his description of the “Italian schools” (see appendix). The Svyatogorets also condemns the Gauls and the “Latin-sophisticated Hermai” who are obsessed with “philosophical arrogance.” He compares them, according to the Apostle Paul, to babies who can only eat milk, unable to taste solid food. And not only Orthodox Christians thought this way. The scientific knowledge of that time is so closely intertwined with superstitions, like astronomy with astrology, chemistry with alchemy, and the philosophers drowned in verbal debates evoke such accusatory words from Petrarch; “How much ridiculous idle talk there is among those who philosophize, how many contradictory statements, how much stubbornness and impudence... what confusion in words!” (16, 50).
Maxim contrasts the chattering language of the “external sophists” with “the hidden mind... like pearls in a shell,” which, like precious pearls, should not, according to the Gospel expression, be thrown before swine. The comparison of knowledge to pearls of great value is very popular in medieval literature. The seeker of wisdom was likened to a fisher of hidden treasure under water (like the Delian diver among the ancient Ionians). As for the criticism of “dialectical needs and sophisms,” then, according to I. Denisov, the Athonite speaks out in this case denouncing the degenerate scholastic nominalism of the 15th-16th centuries. (136, 254). Maxim does not deny rationalism as such. He believes that those who reject logic only because they use it badly are wrong: “Even though the teaching is verbal, called logic, everything should be swept aside, because people are false and depraved by it” (14, 2, 75). And the “star-teaching sacrament” (astronomy) should not be dismissed simply because it is connected with astrology.
It is necessary to use “external sciences” skillfully, as we say now - dialectically, without absolutizing their often metaphysical methodology.
In assessing the complex interweaving of scientific and pseudoscientific, objective and subjective elements of medieval and Renaissance knowledge, as well as in assessing the truth or falsity of ideas, the Athonite uses the criterion of morally interpreted practice: that which brings good to people is useful and true, which he understands not in the form of pragmatic benefit, but in a broad sense and primarily as a spiritual value - “spiritual wealth is the only true wealth” (ibid., 10). In this, Maxim is close to the axiological concept that makes internal self-knowledge the foundation of all knowledge and which Petrarch expresses in the philosophical dialogue “On True Wisdom”: “Even if you knew... everything secret: the width of the earth... the depth of the sea, the height of the sky, but if you don’t know yourself, then you will be like a person erecting a building without a foundation: you are not building, but destroying” (77, 2, 18). In Eastern Christianity, except analytical definition of philosophy, there is an artistic - plastic and figurative - poetic idea of true knowledge.
It is expressed in the image of Sophia the Wisdom of God, inspired by the image of Pallas Athena, born from the head of Zeus, a virgin warrior and patroness of knowledge, called by Plato in “Cratylus” “divine wisdom” (see 18, 30). To the term “wisdom” in the Middle Ages, on Areopagistic grounds, the prefixes “super”, “pre”, befitting everything divine, were added. Through Wisdom, as it were, the inexpressible secret of being and the meaning of the universe is revealed; she “carries all nature in her heart and at the same time is the eternal idea of humanity itself” (122, 546). Therefore, the best churches of Constantinople, Mystras, Sofia, Kyiv, Novgorod, Polotsk, Vologda and other cities of the Greco-Slavic world were erected in her honor. In the philosophical and journalistic monument of the 11th century. – “The Sermon on Law and Grace” by Hilarion - the baptism of Rus' is considered as the arrival of Sophia, and the construction by Yaroslav the Wise of the main church of the Kyiv state is considered as the erection of the “house of Wisdom” (see 103, 168).
In Rus', a rich iconography of Sophia is developing, depicted on frescoes, icons, shrouds, miniatures and associated with the well-known expression from the Old Testament Book of Proverbs of Solomon, one of the most philosophical parts of the Bible: “Wisdom created for herself a house and established seven pillars...” (see 26). The Novgorod type of Sophia, named after the icon from the Novgorod Cathedral Church, is especially widespread. In the 16th century, when the “God-protected power” of Ivan the Terrible was likened to the “kingdom of the Wisdom of God” (135, 404), its images appeared in all the main cathedrals of the Moscow Kremlin. To the same time, A.I. Ivanov attributes the “Tale of the Image of Sophia” attributed to Maxim the Greek (see 55, 185–186), contained in a 17th-century manuscript. State Historical Museum (see 119, l. 85–87 vol.). Other researchers, in particular V. G. Bryusova, who has thoroughly studied the iconography of Sofia and the composition of the literary monuments associated with it, consider this attribution controversial. Indeed, interpretations of the image of Wisdom were known long before Maximus, already in Gnostic literature, and in ancient Russian monuments - from the “Izbornik 1073”.
However, the contemporaries of the Greek - Joseph Volotsky, Zinovy Otensky, and Semyon Shakhovskoy, Archimandrite Ignatius, and the Likhud brothers, who lived later, developed the theme of Sophia. It is not at all impossible that the Athonite also paid attention to such a serious and important topic for understanding medieval wisdom, especially since his interpretations of some iconographic symbols are known, and his authority as an interpreter and interpreter is widely recognized.
In the said manuscript, Sophia is interpreted as a fiery-faced and fiery-winged maiden seated on a throne. On her head is a royal crown, in her right hand is a scepter, in her left is a scroll on which “unknown secret secrets” are inscribed. Facing Sophia on the left and right are Mary and John the Baptist facing her, and above her is a throne with the Book of the Testament (see appendix). Sophia is sometimes identified with Christ, understood as the Logos: “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). Sometimes she is brought closer to the Mother of God, who contained the ineffable Word and gave it to people. But here one can also discern a symbolically expressed philosophy, a special image of plastically embodied wisdom. The coincidence of the name Sophia with the name of the Christian martyr Sophia, who had three daughters - Faith, Hope, Love, opened up wide opportunities for poetic associations and parallels.
This sublime image had a great impact on the development of the entire spiritual culture of Ancient Rus'. He taught to see the complexity of the world, which absorbed the incomprehensible and the comprehensible, the spiritual and the physical, the above and below, the heavenly and the earthly, male and female - all the diversity and unity of the universe. This image also helps to understand the high level of ancient Russian art, in particular painting, which has such an attractive power not only due to its beautiful color and perfect composition, but also because of the deep and rich inner content of this “speculation in colors” (E. I. Trubetskoy).
The fact that Maxim is involved in ancient Russian aesthetics is also evidenced by his thoughts about prototypes and icons (see 14, “, 485–494, 39, 244–253, etc.). This once again shows the encyclopedic nature of his knowledge and his high authority as a wise interpreter of complex symbolism. For a modern researcher, this side of medieval culture points to the uniqueness of the development of philosophical knowledge in the era of feudalism, which is far from being reducible to analytical and conceptual-logical forms of its existence.
Maxim does not have the usual systematic presentation of the definition of philosophy, its subject and method, but he has thoughts about this, they are scattered throughout many of his works, which allowed O. V. Trakhtenberg to conclude: “In Maxim the Greek, perhaps for the first time in Russian literature, we find an attempt to clarify the place and meaning of philosophy” (118, 79). And although it is difficult to agree with this, since philosophy is spoken of in much earlier ancient Russian monuments, both translated (Izbornik 1073) and original (by Clement Smolyatich in the 12th century), the Greek’s merits in this regard are indisputable.
2. The root of evil is “love of money”
Of all the purposes of philosophy, the most important in the Middle Ages was considered to be instruction in a virtuous life. As the elder of the Ferapontov monastery Paisius put it, “... the moral philosophical teaching is to create” (10, l. 16 vol.). And this was nothing new. Socrates “laid the foundation for moral philosophy” (46, 108), moving from consideration of the cosmos to an analysis of the soul, the knowledge of which, in his opinion, is much more important than the entire universe. Virtue is impossible without distinguishing between good and evil, without firm adherence to morality, without paying attention to the voice of conscience.
A distinctive feature of medieval consciousness is the spread of good and evil throughout the entire universe, a kind of “ontologization of the moral view of the world” (O. G. Drobnitsky). In a certain sense, this view is based on the ancient tradition, according to which morality is “a cosmic world order projected onto man” (47, 25). However, Christianity introduces into the moral connection between the microcosm (man) and the macrocosm (the world) an element of irreconcilable struggle, a universal confrontation between good, personified in the image of God, and evil, the bearer of which is the devil. Christian teaching differs from the Manichaean concept in that evil is not considered to exist initially, that the devil is not equal to God in power and influence.
The problem of the existence of evil in the world was one of the most discussed in those times. The translation of the article about Plato from the “Judgment”, carried out by the Greek, begins with the words: “Plato the philosopher says: God is truly good and is guilty of all good people, and innocent of all evil ones...” (5, l. 135). This idea, drawn from Plato's Republic (see 139, 141), often varies in the writings of Maximus. Evil is understood as an alternative to goodness, a deviation from harmony; it is not substantial, but is generated by the action of free will, “autocracy.” The justification of God as the source of good - theodicy - is recognized by the Greek: “For God is not the tempter of the evil” (14, ", 389).
As for the personification of good and evil, which does not fit into modern rational thinking, it is caused by the deeply emotional character of medieval man, who experienced his existence with all passion. Abstract categories cannot be loved or hated, and feeling requires a focus on a specific object, regardless of whether it is real or created by the imagination. Therefore, God is depicted in the most sublime colors, but the devil is depicted in the most repulsive guise. Medieval art successfully helps to present these polar images in all their contrast.
The devil does evil with the hands of people, igniting base instincts in them, pushing them to bad deeds. His machinations are sometimes depicted purely naturalistically, as, for example, in the Kiev-Pechersk Patericon (see 79, 71), where demons, servants of the “prince of darkness,” spoil the dough, steal things, take the form of people and animals; then they appear in a very generalized and symbolic form in the form of a constant struggle with good in the very soul of man, where, in the words of Dostoevsky, “the devil fights with God, and the battlefield is the hearts of people” (21, 4, 440). His disgusting features seem to appear in the faces of people distorted by malice and vices, and his divine appearance seems to be visible in the faces of kind and fair people - this was perfectly understood by the artists of the past, who created many paintings on this subject.
Maxim the Greek does not wage a petty struggle with the devil, he does not drive the demon into a washstand (like some characters in ancient Russian literature), he does not point his finger at bad people, for there is no man “who is without sin.” He, rising to a high philosophical generalization, opposes evil as such, he strives to awaken the souls of people from moral slumber and teach them goodness. Following his spiritual patron Maximus the Confessor, he believes that deviation towards evil stems from neglect of moral self-improvement (“clever doing through negligence”) and from temptation by base feelings (“attracted by one’s own lust”). From the wrong movement of the soul, not only a fall, but even the death of a person can occur, according to the words of the Apostle James: “Even lust, when conceived, gives birth to sin: but the sin committed gives birth to death” (14, ", 389).
Man stands at a crossroads, drawn towards both good and evil. Three forces of good (“natural seeds, and holy forces, and good will”) oppose the three forces of evil (“passion, demonic and evil will”). Here Maxim agrees with the Confessor’s opinion about the goodness of man by nature, for the “natural seeds” of goodness are already embedded in him. In another place, the Greek identifies three other “strong opponents” of good: demons, stars (astrology) and passions (14, 2, 60). The Athos dweller opposes the ostentatious virtue of those who “for the sake of vanity are acquisitive virtues”; he believes that “to be adorned with humane morals” is necessary “not to please people,” but for one’s own good (14, “, 76). In the spirit of Socrates, he identifies “oblivion” of a person’s high destiny and “ignorance” of correct behavior as the main causes of vices.
First of all, Maxim believes, it is necessary to cleanse the soul from the darkening anger: “And where anger and rage possess, that and every soul is disorganized and ugliness and disorder... the mind has already been blinded and darkened by an angry storm” (ibid., 24). You need to be filled with the spirit of meekness and love, patiently teaching your brothers good: “What is meek and quiet and patient in the face of human malice is greatly needed by all the faithful together...” (ibid., 51). People turning against each other are like wild animals devouring the weakest. “Bestial anger” must be replaced with human love. Meek humility is necessary not only for a calm life, it enlightens and preserves the mind. As it is written in the ABC book, “...the idea of humility is the depth, there is the hidden treasure of wisdom” (67, 111). Fury leads to temporary error, but meekness leads to eternal truth.
The sin of pride is great, from it the best of the angels became the devil who fought against God, and Adam “was quickly expelled from paradise, and fell into death and corruption” (14, “, 546). It gives rise to pride and vanity. “The lust for glory” gives rise to envy, and “envy infects every form of destruction.” Idleness is also harmful, which must be overcome with effort: “Flee destructive idleness, and by working with your hands, drive away the despondency of your thoughts” (14, 2, 28–29).
But Maxim considers the most dangerous evil to be the “love of money” that is increasingly taking hold of people, the ghostly pursuit of the golden calf - “the root of all evil is the love of money.” The insatiable pursuit of wealth devastates a person: “However, satiety accepts the collection of gold and silver. Fiercely, fiercely indeed, the desire for gold and all evils is to blame...” (ibid., 110). The all-consuming fire of “love of money and covetousness” must be opposed to “non-acquisitive living,” a renunciation of the pursuit of worldly goods and the desire for spiritual goods. Knowledge and teaching of moral life is “one true wisdom and art,” that is, true philosophy, understood as true science, as a life-building teaching, as the great and sublime art of living worthy of human destiny.
The restless human soul needs reliable support in the form of correct teaching. Maxim examines the most important ethical concepts, both ancient and modern to him. Hellenic paganism cannot serve as an example, for what can Zeus teach, “being enraged by the lust of fornication”; “the goddess of cooking apples dividing gold” (the famous court of Paris); “below the gods fight among themselves and throw copies at each other” (14, 1, 68). This whole motley crowd of Olympians, whose morals are so close to the morals of the ancient Greeks, who were not impeccable in the Christian sense, is far from a model of moral behavior. The Athonite does not accept the ethical concepts of Chrysippus (for “excessive pride”) and Epicurus (for the desire to “enjoy in every way”). The thinker also denies the Muslim doctrine, the “Hagarian charm”, because it seduces people into. heavenly bliss with carnal joys: fruits, fragrances and lovely houris. Exploring the genealogy of morality, Maxim, according to the biblical tradition, considers the pride of the “primordial Adam” to be “the first sin in human nature.”
The Greek most thoroughly analyzes the Judeo-Christian line of morality in the person of Abraham, Moses and Christ, “the lawgivers of a life pleasing to God.” Forefather Abraham, having crushed idols, established a monotheistic faith, and through him God restored the union with people, lost by Adam and Eve. God gives Abraham “the law is not written,” and later the prophet and leader of the Jewish people Moses receives from the Lord “the law is written in tablets” with commandments inscribed on them. But this law, good for one people, does not have a universal character. Christianity, which arose on its basis and in the struggle against it, acquires the character of a world religion. Christ came not “to destroy the law... but to fulfill it,” to make it better—“to perfect the imperfect.” The Law of Moses, as a punitive law, fights not with the cause of evil, but with the consequences (“it puts an end to the punishment of sin”). “And the New Testament, the gospel law and the very beginning of the pre-counted sins are guilty of this terrible judgment” (ibid., 83).
Maxim cites the famous saying of Christ about the sinful thought: “...everyone who looks at a woman with lustful desire has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matt. 5:28). This desire to fight evil at the earliest stage - in the minds and hearts of people - makes the Gospel teaching, according to the Athos resident, the most perfect.
The reflections of Maxim the Greek are based on Christian morality, which played an undoubted role for its time and the society of that time.
In the sense of abstract philosophizing, antiquity was superior, but in the persistent affirmation of morality, no matter how limited it may seem to us, the Middle Ages turned out to be stronger. Justin the Philosopher, who experienced the teachings of the Stoics, Peripatetics, Pythagoreans, and Platonists, was amazed by the words of one elder who converted him to Christianity: “So you are a lover of speculation, and not of action and truth? And do you no longer care to be an active sage and not a sophist? (62, 147). After all, Marxism rose above many philosophical systems of the 19th century. largely due to the appeal to practice, which Marx clearly expressed in the famous “Theses on Feuerbach.”
Maxim the Greek throughout his life, especially in the severe trials that befell him in Russia, convincingly shows that not abstract theorizing, but the practical fulfillment of one’s moral duty is an affirmation of the correctness of the professed ideas; that only that philosophy can be considered true which is not engaged in fruitless philosophizing, but teaches a person a virtuous life. He calls for moral vigilance, for struggle in the name of good. One should not be like, in the words of Homer, that “foolish husband” who, only when he gets into trouble, “when he can no longer help himself,” remembers morality. But one should, steadfastly struggling with difficulties, without giving in to despondency (for this is also a sin), and move towards good. The easy life, the “spacious path,” leads to destruction, and the difficult one, the “straight path,” leads to salvation: “Walk along the narrow path with all your feet, so that your feet may be worthy of stature in the spacious heavenly fatherland” (14:2, 21).
This is the dialectic of life: overcoming difficulties makes a person persistent and more perfect, and a carefree existence leads to the degradation of personality, its moral decline.
In the handwritten collection, which contains the “Tropnik” translated from Latin, the name of which indicates the true path of salvation, there is a significant postscript made by a Russian copyist. In double capital letters to emphasize the significance of the words (palaeographical features in handwritten books often have a meaningful meaning, they are used to emphasize the most important thoughts - for example, the definition of philosophy highlighted in red ink is found), the scribe expresses the following thought: “And behold, there is a true philosopher, who will save his soul from winnowed torment. And behold, there is a wonderful sage, whoever is freed from the snares of demons, why should he be jealous” (119, l. 176 vol. - 177). Maxim is close to a similar idea of philosophy and philosophers. And not only him. Ethical teaching as the pinnacle of philosophy is highlighted by many thinkers, for example Petrarch, who believed that “it is preferable to strive for good than to know the truth” (16, 50). In modern times, Kant joins this, and in the 20th century. - Albert Schweitzer.
We are thus talking about a unique ethically accentuated understanding of philosophy that runs through the entire history of its development.
Among Maxim’s works, diverse in style and genre, is “Preface to the Lives of the Solovetsky Wonderworkers,” in which the thinker reveals the significance of the feat of Zosima and Savvaty, who founded on a deserted island one of the centers of ancient Russian culture, and then statehood. It was not philosophers or scribes who did this, but wise ascetics whose activities led to the transformation of the harsh northern region. The Athonite places the active affirmation of good above the most sophisticated sophistication. He compares “the vain teaching of philosophical words” with a slender cypress tree that does not bear fruit and only “to the tow alone is the gift of its pleasure.” And he compares moral teaching to a fig tree, not so beautiful, “fenced with obstinate branches,” but bearing “mellow fruits” that delight the larynx and nourish people (14, 3, 264). The comparison of contemplative philosophy with a barren cypress appears in Maxim more than once. He gives preference to the fruit-bearing fig tree - “moral philosophy”, considering it the most useful life-building teaching.
Maxim the Greek compares the wise mentor to a doctor who heals the souls of people - an image that goes back to ancient and biblical traditions.
3. Dialectics of good and evil
If the philosophy of the New Age in the person of Hegel creates panlogism as a system of universal dominance of rational thinking, then the Middle Ages gives rise to an equally original concept of panethism, in which all phenomena of being and consciousness are subject to moral interpretation. Why do earthquakes, floods, wars, famines, the collapse of kingdoms, and the impoverishment of reason occur? Yes, because God, in his anger, punishes people for their sins, not wanting to destroy them, but trying to guide them on the path of truth. When the ancient Russian chronicler describes the devastation of the Russian land from Polovtsian raids, he exclaims: “But no one dares to say: that we are hated by God!” (96, ", column 225). The stronger the sins, the heavier the punishing sword. It is moral degradation that Maxim explains the fall of the ancient kingdoms - “Whether Rome, or Athens, or Byzantium... honest statutes of those who transgress...” (14, ", 199).
The devil doesn't sleep either. Not possessing the power of God, he acts mainly through the souls of people: he sets one ruler against another, organizes internecine warfare, incites class enmity, encourages tyrants and persecutes the righteous. It is interesting to follow how the Athonite stretches the thread from the brutal raid of the Crimean Khan Mehmet-Girey to his teacher - the prophet Mohammed, who, being, according to Christian understanding, one of the false prophets, serves the devil himself. True, Maxim does not undertake to judge for what exact reason the raid occurred (caution in thinking is inherent in him), however, showing the treachery of the khan, who swore eternal friendship to Vasily III, he points out all the filth of the satanic source that feeds him: “For it is not powerful for the light to pass from darkness, or sweetness from bile, it is not possible for the truth to pass from the wicked, the seat of the the dwelling place of Satan himself, the father of lies, is the heart of the wicked" (102, 112-113).
And although the devil is not equal to God in his power, an amazing thing turns out: the world cannot exist without this “warfare,” it has been ongoing constantly, since the 4th day of creation, when the luminous angel Lucifer was cast into the abyss of hell for his pride and began to gather legions of demons against the creator and all of humanity, which Milton colorfully describes in “Paradise Lost.” The struggle between two world forces is constantly and everywhere - in nature, in society, in the souls of people. They constitute two opposites, the contradiction between which is the driving force of the world universe.
Before us, expressed in symbolic form and subjected to moral interpretation, is the medieval interpretation of the basic law of development, the “core of dialectics.”
Rooted in the human mind since ancient times, ideas about the inconsistency of existence sometimes take the form of “mystical natural philosophy” in the era of feudalism, one of the largest representatives of which in Europe is Boehme, who influenced German classical idealism. His “concept of the primordial duality of existence” traces the dialectic of “the unity and struggle of opposites, and, moreover, not only as a principle of structure, but also as a principle of the dynamics of all things” (60, 84–85). And the Greek, referring to Maximus the Confessor, believes that “our mind is in the middle of two things, each with its own action, one for virtue, the other for malice” (14, “, 390-391). He accepts the medieval dialectic of good and evil.
It is not easy to distinguish between these two opposites, for the devil, drawing people towards evil, disguises it as good, seducing him with a deceptive appearance. He uses human weaknesses like a “cunning catcher,” throwing his own “bait” to everyone. If a person loves to eat, then the devil draws him into sin through gluttony; if you are partial to the opposite sex - through adultery; if he is vain, he carries the foolish one to the heights of glory, then pushes him into the abyss of contempt. This is not how a God who cares about people acts. Maxim compares him to a skilled doctor who prescribes his own treatment for each human ailment: “For the Lord is wise and soul-saving... He does not create just one cure for everyone; but it’s disgusting to have a cold disease...” (14, 2, 71).
He prescribes fasting to the glutton, abstinence to the lascivious, and humility to the lover of glory. And so that people are not seduced by deceptive appearances, the Almighty can distort beauty with illness, afflict physical strength with weakness, and deprive wealth with ruin. Faith in goodness is indestructible; one should not doubt its wisdom. Even when the “soul-saving doctor” inflicts pain, he is like a surgeon curing gangrene and leprosy: “... he treats the wounds of destructive and evil leprosy with a hot iron and a razor and sprinkles the most cruel potions on those according to need” (ibid., 72–73). A person must understand the dialectic of good and evil, understanding their incompatibility and at the same time the necessary complementarity as a living contrasting unity.
The contradictory nature of existence was understood according to ancient tradition as a struggle between light and darkness. Already in Plato, the first shoots of the “world ancient and medieval philosophy of light” clearly appear (A.F. Losev). Philo identifies 5 degrees of materialization of light: God, Logos, human soul, sun and stars, darkness. Plotinus and especially Dionysius the Areopagite create the doctrine of the emanation of divine light and its hierarchy (see 31). V.V. Bychkov identifies in the Byzantine understanding the triple meaning of the opposition “light - darkness”: epistemological (knowledge - ignorance), moral (good - evil), aesthetic (beautiful - ugly). The doctrine of the “Tabor Light” is developed by hesychasts, especially on Mount Athos.
All this did not pass by Maxim. He calls the Paraclete, the spirit of truth, “light-like,” “fire-inspired,” driving away the darkness of ignorance (11, l. 706 vol.). His God is light, “brighter than the sun in truth and power,” “three-solar light.” The Gospel teaching is “the light is perfect.” If good deeds love light, then evil ones prefer darkness: “And men loved darkness more than light; Besha for their deeds are evil” (4, “, 155). “Let us put aside the works of darkness,” the thinker calls, “let us put on the weapons of light.” He writes about his efforts: “...to squander the ardent, resistant Egyptian darkness with the bright light of the apostolic truth” (ibid., 237–238).
In understanding the world as an irreconcilable struggle between two principles, together with dialectics, the categoricalness and maximalism of medieval consciousness manifest themselves, refusing to recognize the interpenetration of opposites. “What message does the light have to the darkness?” - Maxim exclaims. Yes or no, light or darkness - this is the principle of the sharply contrasting medieval worldview, reflected in art, religion, philosophy, and in all forms of life. If not from God, then from the devil - such is the logic of this thinking. If books are not “inspired by God,” then they are “uninspired,” as the Greek proves in his criticism of the Koran and his denunciation of the “mental wolf” of Mohammed. Muslim theologians speak no less expressively about Christian teaching. This spirit of intolerance, although not always manifested among the Athonite people, reflects the offensive nature of medieval, and not only medieval, ideology in the conditions of intense struggle between the countries of the West and the East.
The struggle also took place within European countries, during which political opponents were called antichrists and servants of the devil, ranging from the Pope, Luther, Calvin and ending with representatives of various heresies. At the same time, everyone is convinced that they are right. Thomas Munzer states that “he who does not feel the spirit of Christ in himself... he is part of the devil” (21, 2, 114). This bias, 8 m. thunder, necessary to stimulate social activity, also manifests itself in modern times. Peter I was considered by many in Rus' to be the Antichrist, and Nadoleon receives a similar stigma.
Of course, the Greek cannot be considered a major representative of medieval or Renaissance dialectics, comparable to Eriugena, Cusanus or Boehme. In this regard, he is not original, sharing, within the framework of the dominant monistic concept, a dualistic idea of the struggle of two opposing principles. It is important to emphasize that the Middle Ages were not an era of dominance of metaphysics alone, as is sometimes imagined. It is also important that the medieval doctrine of good and evil, light and darkness was perceived not only as a subjective dialectic of consciousness, but also as an objective dialectic of being itself.
As for the general assessment of Maxim the Greek, “who cannot be called an ‘original’ philosopher” (139, 113), a “deep” or “creative thinker” (D. Heini), then the following can be answered. Is the value of ideas only in originality?
Philosophers are valued not so much for originality and novelty, but for the depth of their wisdom. The Middle Ages did not encourage the original creation of other concepts; it created the power of tradition and the greatness of fundamental systems. Traditionality is not only the weakness, but also the strength of all civilizations of the past, which through long practice developed stable social, political, and ideological foundations of their existence. “Which land rearranges its customs, and that land does not stand for long,” believed Maxim’s contemporary Bersen - Beklemishev (92, 142). If in subsequent eras some ambitious people try to pass off other people's ideas as their own, then medieval authors sometimes deliberately attributed their ideas to their great predecessors. The thinkers of that time were not interested in copyright, associated with personal glory or commercial calculation, so characteristic of the new European consciousness, but in the value of thought as such. Admiring the truth, they did not associate their name with it, did not try to monopolize it, make it a source of income.
Maxim compares himself not with the architect, who builds his own building on the bones of what was destroyed, but with the builder, who, carefully preserving what has been erected, lays his stones, on a solid foundation that will outlive the centuries: “... he began to apply the hedgehog to the ancient and the new one to the ancient stone pillar erected firmly ... as if the new one will be firmly established on that solid ground” (14.3, 268).
Medieval culture, including philosophy, cannot be directly compared with modern culture. It has its own canons, its own principles, its own ideals. It seems monotonous and uninteresting only to the unenlightened mind. For just one subject - Mary with the baby - over two hundred different iconographic types were created in Rus', which vary and are refracted with inexhaustible variety in the work of many icon painters. And Maxim is similar not to the great masters of the Renaissance, but to those modest but talented artists of the Middle Ages who, turning to primordial archetypes, filled traditional subjects. the originality of his era and the uniqueness of his soul.
Many researchers note the traditionalism of the Middle Ages. “The characteristic properties of medieval thinking in general and philosophical thinking in particular are retrospectiveness and traditionalism, that is, a focus on the past. The more ancient, the more authentic, the more authentic, the truer - such is the maxim of medieval consciousness" (86, 9). At the same time, traditionalism, which ensured the stability of feudal society, was not the only dominant force in those days. Not only deep veneration of ancient shrines, but also a focus on the future, aspirations for a new century, and a thirst for renewal are characteristic of the Middle Ages. For us, hundreds of years later, the Middle Ages seem to be an outdated system; for the people of that time, their era was filled with the pulse of life, youth, and modernity. And that Rus', which we now call Ancient, was once young, young, full of unspent strength and hopes for the future. Hilarion calls his contemporaries new people, and the chronicler says: “The old one passed by, and behold a new one came into being” (96, 1, column 120).
Chapter IV. Philosophical understanding of society
Maxim Grek, which is characteristic of his style of thinking, raises his discussion of social issues to truly philosophical heights. With his sensitive heart, he deeply experiences the injustice and “disorders” of feudal society. He creates a philosophical and symbolic essay full of accusatory pathos, “A Word Explaining in Extensive Pity the Disorders and Atrocities of the Tsars and Authorities of the Last Time.” From the first lines it amazes with its inner strength: “Walking along. through cruelty and many troubles, I found a wife who sat by the way and bowed her head... I groaned as a mountaineer and cried without joy, and was clothed in black clothing, as is the custom for widows... And I was horrified at this strange and never-begun meeting..." (14, 2, 319).
Struck by the mournful appearance of the widow, around whom predatory animals prowl, the wanderer Maxim asks to name her and reveal the reason for such intense suffering. The suffering woman does not immediately open up to him, for she has seen many hypocrites with feigned sympathy in her lifetime, but her grief is inconsolable. But, feeling the sincere sympathy of the old man, she calls herself: “My name is not one, but different: I will become the authorities and power and dominion and dominion...” The common name of the grieving woman is Vasily (from the Greek basileia - kingdom, rule). It acts as a symbolic image of a long-suffering state, tormented by predatory greedy people and unrighteous rulers of recent times.
The crying woman says that “many people who did not understand and are not worthy of the royal name” use power not for the benefit of people, but for their own gain, disgracing her high name: “... torturers instead of former kings, and those who have dishonored me.” By this they destroy themselves (“they also plunged themselves into the last severe illnesses and illnesses”), and bring God’s wrath upon their kingdom. “Lovers of glory and power-hungry”, enslaved by the passion of “love of money and covetousness”, “lusterly kill” their subjects. They erect for themselves “high-value houses,” which serve not “to strengthen their power, but precisely for the excessive gratification and joy of their lustful souls.” And their mansions are “houses of iniquity named after unrighteous tortures” (ibid., 322–324).
The covetous who have usurped power are “falsely invested” with the royal rank; they are false shepherds, whom the prophet Jeremiah denounces: “... woe to you shepherds, for you are shepherding yourselves, while my sheep are melting away with hunger.” Having enslaved people, they themselves are enslaved by base passions: “... having become enslaved by the mere gambling of satanic food and drunkenness and substomach lusts.” Feasting tyrants. They cannot stand any criticism of themselves; they are like the biblical King Herod, who “was corrupted by the royal mind from lawless fornication and immeasurable wine drinking” and who destroyed the Baptist John, who denounced him. “Their foolish heart is darkened,” Vasily laments. “They don’t want to listen to reasonable advice, dragging themselves to destruction and dooming the people.” suffering. And there are no brave righteous people, as in the old days, who would stand up for the suffering and humiliated (see ibid., 326–334).
The image of the tormented kingdom created by the Greek is reminiscent of the image of the desecrated church by Savonarola. “Both authors’ wives complain that now there are no more saints, ancient teachers, apostles and zealots of truth” (57, 224). It is also similar to the image of the decrepit Roman Empire, depicted as a mournful widow by Petrarch (see 58, 426). Similar allegories are also found in Byzantine literature.
It is curious that in some sources, for example in the Resurrection Chronicle, instead of the desecrated kingdom, there appears the offended truth, which left the completely lied to people in the deserted desert: “Someone was walking in the desert, and he found a wife, standing sad, and he said to her: who are you? She says: I am true. And the man said: who for the sake of guilt leave the city and live in the desert? She said: in the past there were lies in small ones, but now in all men...” (96, 7, 253). The wise wife, denouncing the unjust power, is also represented in the literature of modern times, in particular in Radishchev, in the image of Pryovzora (chapter “Spasskaya field” in “Journey from St. Petersburg to Moscow”).
Such a strong denunciation of unjust power by the thinker is addressed not to the distant past and not to foreign states. He speaks directly of the wicked rulers as "those who now rule"; points not to the “Christian fighters of the Ishmaelites,” but to the “hostile hostility” of the Christian sovereigns against each other; and the monk finds Vasily precisely on his “cruel path and filled with many troubles.” Some researchers believe that the Greek depicts Russia during the reign of the young Ivan the Terrible during the regency of his mother Elena Glinskaya, when the boyar groups grappling at the foot of the throne really resembled a motley pack of motley predators. As an honest man and ardent publicist, Maxim could not remain silent, but the truth could not be told directly to his face. “The topic of the Word was responsible and risky: it was necessary to tell the whole truth and at the same time not tease the animals” (102, 59).
We must pay tribute to the courage of the thinker, who, given his position, was not afraid to come out with such a vivid denunciation of the powers that be. At the same time, keeping in mind the philosophical cast of his mind, this work can also be considered as an attempt, based on real material, to give a generalized image of unjust rule as such. This is not a political pamphlet, not a fable about animals, but a kind of “philosophical lament” about trampled social justice.
Reading through Maxim's works, you notice that he was not a court scribbler, lavishing praise on his beloved rulers, although he sometimes had to do this in personalized messages to those in power. Nor is the Athonite a fundamental enemy of the autocracy, like Prince Kurbsky, who accused Tsar Ivan IV of all conceivable and unimaginable sins, stubbornly considering him only the Grand Duke and, ironically, receiving the label of “reactionary” at that time. The Greek is also not like an ironic foreigner like the English ambassador Giles Fletcher, who left the following lines as a reminder of Russian lawlessness: “Seeing the rude and cruel actions of all the main officials and other superiors towards them, they also act inhumanely towards each other, especially towards their subordinates and inferiors; The most wretched peasant, humiliating himself and crawling before a nobleman, becomes an intolerable tyrant as soon as he gains power over someone” (123, 159). Therefore, the people, “although generally capable of enduring all kinds of labor, indulge in laziness and drunkenness, not caring about anything other than daily food.”
Although Maxim did not become an ardent patriot of Russia, as was sometimes claimed by some historians, he was not indifferent to its fate. He does not act as an outside observer, he mourns the troubles of the Russian land and rejoices at its triumph.
Two of his works are indicative in this regard: “Message to Vasily III” on the occasion of the devastating raid of the Crimean Khan Mehmet Giray in 1521 and “A Word of Thanks” on the occasion of the “glorious victory” over the Crimeans in 1541.
In the “Message,” the monk, seeing the “grieving power” and “condolent for all that happened,” inspires the dispirited sovereign. Philosophically noting that he does not undertake to judge whether it was by God’s judgment or “our slowdown, or the governor’s laziness and lack of art, or some other disorganization” that a misfortune occurred, the saintly mountaineer assures of the inevitable triumph of good over evil, which has won a temporary victory, citing examples from the past. Such generalized philosophizing does not prevent him from giving the Grand Duke very practical advice: instead of fighting on two fronts, he should first attack the Kazan Khanate with all his might, which was later done by Ivan the Terrible.
The Athos man calls to begin a decisive struggle against the enemy, sparing no labor and resources: “It is with the helpless that men who sleep and those who recline can raise up victories. Through heroism, time eats, not slackness; time depletes silver, not mercy.” It is significant that he refers not only to the victories of Constantine the Great, Heraclius and other Christian emperors, but also to a certain pagan philosopher: “Use silver copies of battles, and you will conquer everything,” that is, do not spare silver for the sake of victory (102, 115). This reminiscence (its source is the Delphic Oracle, as established by D. M. Bulanin; see 28, 78) is not accidental. The authority of ancient wisdom is great at all times.
A few decades earlier, the son of Hellas, not steeped in Greek education, but the Russian Archbishop Vassian addressed in his message to Ivan III, who went out against the Horde army of Khan Akhmat: “Hear what Dimocritus, the first philosopher, says: it is fitting for a prince to have a mind for all temporary things, and courage and bravery for the adversaries of the fortress, and love and greetings for his squad sweet" (96, 26, 269). This happened during the “stand on the Ugra” in 1480, which marks the fall of the hated yoke of the Golden Horde, but does not put an end to the long struggle with the khanates that remained from it.
By sending Ivan IV “the words of the notebook,” Maxim hopes that “they will inform your God-protected power that I, a sinner, was from the very beginning a well-willed pilgrim and servant of the most faithful power of Rustei” (14, 2, 379). He assures that he will serve Russia until the end of his days. And one should not think that these were just the calculated words of a petitioner hoping to receive a return to Athos, where he would not blaspheme the Russian state and its rulers; they sound genuine sincerity. The Greek was not a crafty opportunist. His irreconcilable struggle against the “disorders” of Russian life, which promised nothing but persecution, best testifies to the high civic honesty of the thinker, who “retained moral courage to the end” (99, 340).
If Maxim was not afraid to condemn the supreme rulers, albeit in a philosophical and allegorical form, then the lesser covetous people got quite a lot from him. But here, too, the Holy Mountainer does not stoop to malicious criticism, to maliciously ridiculing the shortcomings of others. He castigates untruth as such in all its manifestations, because “you love the truth everywhere and straight wisdom” (14, 2, 6).
The Greek is especially up in arms against “acquisitiveness” and “love of money,” which are the internal causes of many social vices and blatant injustice. His revealing pathos is akin to the pathos of Dante, for whom “life and creativity were unthinkable without a fight against the evil that reigns ‘in an immensely bitter world’” (16, 80). “Treasured hunger for gold, why do you not direct the hearts of men?” - the poet sadly notes in “Purgatory” (XXII, 40–41). Maxim paints a vivid picture of feudal exploitation, when the landowner of his peasants “like slaves of frequent purchases kills them with the burdens of all sorts of labor, and even if they sin nowhere, they embitter their feet with iron shackles, become fiercely angry, and become proud of their power” (14, 2, 38). The enraged feudal lord is compared to a “stiff-necked horse”, which “has broken the reins with impudence” (disregarding all laws), rushes around, “neighing and galloping boldly” until he meets a predator (a stronger feudal lord), whose womb he will fill with his meat (he will lose all his wealth, and perhaps his life).
The Holy Mountain denounces not only secular, but also church owners who owned a significant part of the lands in Russia. This is especially true for monks who, hypocritically preaching about the dangers of wealth, use all their might to acquire it. Do the monks act according to the Gospel commandment when the monastery peasants arrived for the sake of “heaviest growths, searing torture” and “making their lives most bitter”? The thinker calls this attitude towards his brothers inhumane. He does not recognize the argument that all the wealth belongs to the monastery, and the monks are poor. He compares the robbery of peasants with collective robbery, for which everyone participating in it is responsible, if he personally did not take anything from the loot.
Maxim’s writings emanate deep sympathy for the offended and oppressed. Like the humanists of the New Age, long before them he raised his voice in defense of the humiliated and insulted: “Love the poor with all your mind.” He calls for compassion, for “the poor and the poor, the widows and the orphans, who are insulted, cry out at us and sigh from the depths of their souls and shed bitter tears” (ibid., 101). They do not invite the poor into rich mansions, they do not invite the hungry to a meal, they do not warm those who are freezing with clothes. The rich people wear sables and eat sweetly all their days. And the monks, instead of fasting and vigils, would rather “show their love for the poor” to the poor. The ascetic is not concerned about himself when he writes a message to Sylvester, the confessor of Ivan the Terrible: he asks for the widow and children of “the deceased Nikita Borisovich”, begs to show “mercy to them, living in great poverty and need” (ibid., 381).
The Greek is outraged by this type of sophisticated and inhuman extortion, such as throwing the body of a murdered person into the courtyards of people from whom the authorities want to lure out more money: “... torture the entire city for the murder of the bnom, and collect a lot of silver for yourself from the greed of the unjust and godless” (ibid., 200). He also considers the “field” (the custom of resolving a dispute by combat) to be contrary to the moral law. This “crazy custom,” which existed in many countries in the Middle Ages, leads, according to Maxim, to the shedding of much blood and the triumph of injustice, for it is not the right who wins, but the cunning and rich, who can hire experienced fighters and sorcerers, seeking by all means to destroy the enemy.
Even among the “infidels” the trial is carried out under oath and with witnesses, and not in such a barbaric way. In the Christian countries of Europe there are “city laws” established by wise rulers; It would not hurt to adopt them from the “Poles” and “Germans” living around the area, who “even though they are Latins are heretical, but rule with all justice and love for mankind” (ibid., 201). Here, the Athos resident reveals not a confessionally limited, but a broader and more humanistic view of other peoples. Lawlessness, according to the monk, is incompatible with any customs, morality, or human dignity.
Criticizing the vices of feudal society, the Greek does not dress up in the toga of a righteous man who has fallen into the crowd of the wicked. He does not consider himself sinless, sharing common responsibility for the sins of the people among whom he lives. Castigating Russian reality, he constantly says: we, ours, with us. Believing, for example, that the order in Rus' is worse than in Judea at the time of the coming of Christ, he writes: “...with us, the pattern of extortion and theft is not done shamelessly and without fear, everywhere there are robbers and murderers and thieves and predators and rapists...” (ibid., 206). To say such words to a stranger in a country that prides itself on its best adherence to Christian law was very difficult and dangerous.
Maxim resolutely opposes the external piety widespread in Rus', under which rude morals, lawlessness and inhumanity are hidden. For many, Christianity consisted in the diligent performance of rituals and donations for the needs of the church, but the meaning of true mercy was alien to the zealots of ostentatious piety, who, as Fletcher notes, treated “without any respect for the spirit and truth” of the commandments of Christ (see 123, 148). Not only foreign observers, but also domestic historians testify that “Russia of the 16th century represented a country predominantly of external piety...” (98, 42). What this led to - one can point to the colorful figure of Metropolitan Zosima, who indulged in “gluttony, drunkenness and sodomy,” etc. branded by Joseph Volotsky as “a vessel of Satan and the devil.” This assessment is certainly biased, but it is also very symptomatic.
Maxim’s words about the Tver fire of 1537 are indicative in this regard. With the writer’s creative imagination, he creates an imaginary dialogue between the local bishop and God himself. The church leader is perplexed: why did God punish them? After all, they “continuously perform spiritual festivals” for him, “singing with red voices” and “with the good-voiced noise of light-noisy bells” delight his ears, and lift up the aroma of fragrant myrrh to him. The Lord answers the bishop that such gifts, “mixed with the tears of orphans and widows,” from unrighteous theft and robbery of people, are not pleasing to him, “as they are unworthy of truth and more humane than my thoughts.” You, the Lord reproaches, clothe my Gospel in precious frames, but do not fulfill its essence, but for your sins I will punish you with “green fire” or give you over to be stolen by a “Scythian” (14, 2, 260-276).
Maxim speaks out against such a long-standing vice as drunkenness, for it “is guilty of all evil”; castigates hypocrites who try not to eat meat and butter, but themselves “gnaw human flesh”; does not approve of exhausting fasts, since it is not abstinence from food, but abstinence from sins that “fast is true.” He likens those who are proud only of their “non-eating” to “the worst demons” who do not eat anything at all, but this does not make them better. The Athonite does not advise that in order to save the soul one must necessarily go to a monastery; a virtuous life is worthy in the world. What is worthy is legal marriage, which is equated with chastity. The thinker mercilessly and at the same time humanely exposes falsehood, hypocrisy, servility, hypocrisy - everything that interferes with the true moral improvement of man. His thoughts are in many ways ahead of the era that Russia was going through in the 16th century.
Maxim's criticism, of course, did not shake the foundations of Russian feudal society, although it was adopted by some heretics and Old Believers. These denunciations, no matter how high the level they were carried out, were mainly on a moral level; they fit into the chorus of moral self-flagellation inherent in the feudal system. Criticism alone cannot change society; even such giants as Dante and Tolstoy were powerless in this regard. After all, the very “love of money” that the Greek and other moralists oppose was generated by the entire system of social relations. According to F. Engels, “low greed has been the driving force of civilization from its first to the present day” (1, 21, 176). And then the gold, which the Athonite contemporary Thomas More wanted to use for chamber pots, is still the cherished dream of modern “money-grubbers”. For all its repulsive appearance, self-interest has been and remains one of the hidden springs of the mechanism of antagonistic formations.
The Greek's journalistic activity is not something exceptional in Rus'. Even such a representative of the ruling elite as the persecutor of the Holy Mountain, Metropolitan Daniel, is known for his rather harsh denunciations, but mainly of a moral and everyday nature. He scolds the wicked monks: “...you bark at the brethren like a dog, and you wallow in uncleanness like a pig.” The hierarch castigates “evil covetousness” and “more than all evil things, the most evil thing is worthy of hatred... the love of money” (50.44). Even more harsh is the criticism of like-minded Athonite resident Vassian Patrikeev, who believes that “the local books are all lies, and the local rules are crooked, not rules” (58, 193). He calls Russian miracle workers “troublemakers” (see 63, 287).
The Greek's polemics are distinguished by their philosophical nature; he raises them to a high ideological level, polemicizes them without harsh abuse and petty quibbles, without personal settling of scores, speaking out against “disorders” as a common misfortune of all people. Comparing Maxim with Vassian, the pre-revolutionary researcher A. S. Pavlov aptly notes that “the truly Greek dialectic of Maxim strikes the enemy much deeper and stronger than the sweeping, disorderly and irritated speech of our monk - the prince” (93, 80). An Athos resident remains a thinker in any situation.
2. The ideal of social order
Brought up in the traditions of Greek dialectics, hating evil with all the strength of his soul, Maxim the Greek is well-versed in the weapon of criticism: “In the numerous writings of St. Maxim, one cannot help but be surprised at the diversity of his information and talents: he is a philologist and historian, a poet and speaker, a philosopher and theologian; but the gift that had more power in him than others was the gift of criticism...” (120, 65). But it is always easier to criticize, especially in the social sphere, than to propose a positive program. Does the Greek have one? Yes, I have. It is expressed by him in his letters to Vasily III and Ivan IV, as well as in some other works and is partially discussed in the introduction.
In building his social ideal, the Athonite man relies on the so-called commandment of Justinian, which was included in the ancient Russian Helmsman books. The Byzantine emperor and legislator Justinian (527–565), having codified Roman law, formulated the relationship between secular and spiritual power, which became authoritative for Eastern Christian countries, implying a division of functions under the primacy of the state. He also built the famous Sophia of Constantinople, which was not only the “House of Wisdom”, but also a symbol of the well-being of the state. Maximus repeatedly refers to Justinian: “... the two great ones and the most divine are the priesthood and the kingdom, according to the great king Justinian... the priesthood serves the divine, but the kingdom of human things is ruling and providential, and from the same beginning, both emanating from human life” (14, 2.297).
The thinker gives an example of “God’s chosen marriage” of secular and spiritual power from ancient (Moses and Aaron) and Christian (Constantine and Sylvester) history. Turning to modern times, he praises Vasily III and Metropolitan Varlaam as a pious sovereign and wise shepherd, considering Russia during their reign as an example of the embodiment of the Byzantine concept of the state: “... the image of being the truest of Ustinian’s words is your all-divine and glorious power” (ibid., 298). Of course, this assurance expressed in the style of court etiquette by a resident of Athonite who recently arrived in Russia, who has not yet comprehended either the laws or the reality of the “God-protected state,” cannot be taken as the true state of affairs, it rather reflects it. the ideal and hope after the fallen Byzantium and the corrupted West to see in the Muscovite kingdom the realized dream of a harmonious and prosperous society.
But the cruel reality will dispel illusions, especially after the “God’s chosen husband” Vasily III unceremoniously expels Varlaam, who did not want to act according to his will, and appoints the obsequious Daniel as metropolitan. Maxim's epiphany in monastic confinement will be difficult, but it will not destroy his conviction in his views.
The Greek allows the interference of secular power in the affairs of the church if representatives of the latter behave unworthily: “... it is necessary and highly appropriate for the pious Tsar Sisev to correct the priestly shortcomings, and not the river of sins, out of the jealousy of the ancient Orthodox kings Constantine, Theodosius and Justinian the Great” (ibid., 175). The church also has morals. the right to interfere in the affairs of secular power, standing up for desecrated justice, which was necessary, for example, during the regency of Elena Glinskaya. But brave shepherds like Metropolitan Philip, who criticized the tyranny of Ivan the Terrible and was killed on his orders, do not often appear in autocratic Russia. “God’s chosen marriage,” which was clearly an unequal marriage, was finally abolished by Peter I, who concentrated all power in his hands and made the church an appendage of the state machine of the absolutist state.
With all its subordination and external lack of freedom, the church both in the Byzantine Empire and in Russia had that highest “sacral authority that could not be canceled by any, even the most tyrannical, ruler: “Christianity was able to become the spiritual correlate of the autocratic state precisely - this is the paradoxical logic of reality - thanks to its moral isolation from this state” (19, 57). Otherwise, a cult of the state arises, as was the case, for example, during the deification of the Roman emperors. In this regard, the Greek is a fighter “against the autocracy of the Grand Duke of Moscow” (154, 532).
Maxim asserts that everything in the world is subordinated to the highest will, to this anthropomorphically understood objective law of existence, which elevates people to the heights of power and overthrows them if they do not act in accordance with it: “There is much and wonder, even done there, by God’s providence, elevating some to the royal heights from a bad rank, and again destroying them universally, most evilly and godlessly establishing the kingdom" (14, ", 382). The supreme ruler is not yet the highest judge. And he is subject to the objective course of things, and he is a sinful person. In the Middle Ages, in pictures of hellish torment, kings, kings, church hierarchies, and even popes were often depicted among tormented sinners.
The sovereign must rule, submitting in his soul to the law of morality, and in external activities - to established law. A king on earth must be just as a ruler in heaven is just. Referring to one of the authorities of the past (Menander), the Greek writes: “... as a certain Greek philosopher spoke to a certain king: once you are confident in the kingdom, be worthy of it, for the king of God is the image of God” (14, 2, 350). Like Metropolitan Nikephoros, who instructed Vladimir Monomakh, the Athos resident advises constantly keeping in mind the 100th Psalm from the Psalter, where there are the words: “... I will sing mercy and judgment.” Ivan IV the Holy Mountainer recommends reading the message of the Byzantine Patriarch Photius to the Bulgarian Tsar Michael: “... great is the wisdom and benefit from there, imashi, if you listen to him.”
The ruler needs to take care of his subjects, because the prosperity and strength of the state depends on this: “In the same way, the blessed princes and bolyars and glorious governors and noble warriors who exist for you and honor and care and give abundantly; By enriching them, I will strengthen your power..." (ibid., 353). Not only the people useful in the service, but the last widows and orphans should not be forgotten by the sovereign: “... the widows and orphans of the wretched are offended and do not despise...” Considering peace the best state and recognizing the need for war only “for the sake of the deepest need,” Maxim at the same time advises having a strong, organized and trained army to repel enemies: “... generals, and officials, and thousands, and centurions, and a large army... yes, they are always ready to counter the rebelling filthy barbarians” (14, 3, 247).
In general, Maxim Grek acts as a political thinker who, through advice, instructions, and examples, outlines a fairly well-founded socio-political program for the Russian rulers. V.F. Rzhiga, who deeply analyzed his social and political views, believes that the ideas of the Athos resident were not “the abstract construction of a learned hermit,” they were translated into reality. “The policy of the “elected rada” is a policy of coordinated action of the clergy, boyars, military and the commercial and industrial class, the so-called “posadskys”” (102, 75). In the letter he published from the Greek to Ivan the Terrible in 1551, the Athonite speaks approvingly of the reforms of that time that strengthened the Russian state; he compares the energetic activity of the young king with the reign of Alexander the Great and Caesar Augustus, the greatest statesmen of the past.
Maxim did not live to see the Livonian War and the oprichnina, but there is no doubt that he would not have stood aside from the trials that would shake Russia at the end of the reign of Ivan IV, he would certainly have given them his assessment.
In 1551, Grozny convened the Stoglavy Council, which for a century and a half determined many aspects of Russian life and the features of the internal politics of pre-Petrine Rus'. Although the Athonite does not participate in the work of the cathedral, his influence is felt in the questions of the king, in the terms and expressions recorded in the text, in the assessment of many “non-buildings”, in the resolutions of the cathedral themselves (see ibid., 31). It is significant that the Greek anticipates the sovereign’s concern for the serving nobility - a reliable support of the feudal state, its main functionary.
Many of Maxim’s ideas as a writer-publicist and as a social philosopher are in tune with the era, but his voice does not always sound in unison with the interests of the Russian state. He never forgets about his suffering homeland, remembers its needs, dreams of its liberation from the Turkish yoke. And it would be wrong to blame the Greek for this, presenting him as a sneaky agent of the fallen Constantinople, cunningly pursuing a narrow nationalist policy. He rejoiced when Russian and Greek interests coincided, and, obviously, worried a lot when they did. dispersed.
One of the most difficult was the issue of war with Turkey. The Ottoman Empire, which was experiencing the apogee of its greatness, enslaves the Balkans, dominates the Eastern Mediterranean, and squeezes out European states. Russia does not have the strength to fight the powerful Porte during this period, especially in Hellas, which is close to Istanbul and far from Moscow. She hardly repels the raids of her vassal, the Crimean Khan. Therefore, the Russian government resolutely rejects any attempts to drag the country into a hopeless war with Turkey, no matter who they come from - the Pope, Christian kings or Greek patriots. Moreover, there was a secret plan to use the Turks against Lithuania and Poland, but it was not implemented (see 48, 19). As for the Greek’s accusations of treason against the interests of Russia, which is recognized by some researchers as the true reason for the persecution of the Athos resident, here, as in many other fabricated political trials, they most likely used the convenient label of “foreign agent,” so easily attached and so difficult to wash off.
The Grecophile tendencies, which are not advertised, but appear in Maxim’s statements, are expressed in the fact that he nowhere calls the Muscovite kingdom “new Rome,” leaving this name behind the defeated Byzantine Empire, which did not lose hope of being revived. At the same time, he understands perfectly well that this is impossible without external help. Athos believes “in the political revival of Byzantium under the rule of an Orthodox tsar from the dynasty of Moscow sovereigns” and openly expresses this hope in a letter to Vasily III (see 102, 89), asking for the liberation of the lands of “the new Rome, which is heavily troubled by the godless Hagarians.” Russia has always remembered this call. And when she was in the 18th-19th centuries. will acquire sufficient political and military power to fight the Sultan, it will liberate many peoples from his rule, but the Greek liberation movement has always relied on the support of Russia.
The second difficult problem is the autocephaly of the Russian Church, the installation of Russian metropolitans without the sanction of the Patriarch of Constantinople, a sore point since the baptism of Rus'. The times of infancy of the Russian state and the church associated with it are long gone, but the Greeks, especially after the fall of Constantinople and Ferraro - the Union of Florence, are beginning to be treated with suspicion. Many believe that, having arrived in Rus', they “mixed up the Russian land” and had a corrupting influence on traditional customs and views. Bersen - Beklemishev, in a conversation with an Athos resident, expressed it this way: “... just as the mother of the Grand Duke, Grand Duchess Sophia, came here with your Greeks, so our land was confused and great unrest came, just like you did in Tsaregorod under your kings” (92, 142).
The position of the Russian authorities on the issue of autocephaly is clear, but the Greek proves his point: true to critical reason, he is trying to find out on what legal basis the Russian metropolitan is not installed according to the established rule. “They answered him that the Patriarch of Constantinople gave a blessed letter to the Russian metropolitans - “they will be appointed bishops in Rus'” (102, 87). With all his persistence, Maxim could not find this letter: it simply did not exist. But such insolence will be remembered to him at trial.
The Russians, the Athos resident believes, rightly do not recognize the ordination of the Pope, “like the face of the Orthodox bishops has fallen away,” but the patriarchs of the Eastern Church do not lose their sacred power, despite the conquest of Christian lands by the Saracens and Turks. Shrines are not desecrated by politics; their spiritual value is not subject to the control of worldly power. Therefore, Maxim, glorifying the “all-famous Moscow,” cannot recognize it as the “New Jerusalem,” for there is only one such city on earth. As a sober-minded philosopher, he believes that excessive praise of a person, a city, or a country brings reproach, and not good: “...however, more than the dignity of honoring someone or a person or a city or a country, it brings annoyance rather than glory or praise” (14, 3, 157). The ambitious Patriarch Nikon, who conceived in the 17th century. put “the priesthood above the kingdom”, was unable to transform his magnificent residence near Moscow into the “New Jerusalem” and failed as a political figure, giving a good lesson to his contemporaries and descendants.
Maxim the Greek is interested not only in specific events and current politics, he is trying to comprehend society as such, to comprehend the course of world history. And just as the Athos resident does not have a “systematized development of his political philosophy” (139, 161), he does not have a specially stated philosophical-historical concept. Maxim's philosophy of history is scattered throughout his writings; for its systematization, it requires a certain reconstruction and integration of many of his judgments into a single whole. The use of such a method is often the only possible one when applied to many thinkers of the past who were not carried away by the doctrinal presentation of their views and did not, like Hegel, write extensive treatises with a clear division of their system into sections, subsections, parts, chapters, paragraphs, which forms a certain order, but to a large extent formalizes thought.
Instead of the classical ancient idea of the historical process as “eternal return” (A.F. Losev), Christianity creates an irreversible and future-oriented concept of society. Instead of contemplative philosophizing about a harmoniously balanced cosmos, an intense experience of existence bursts into consciousness, a person finds himself in “a stream of temporary fulfillment that carries all things within itself...” (19, 88). The desire to comprehend the course of world history, to fit into it the history of one’s people, to include the life of every person is characteristic of numerous medieval chronicles. The Tale of Bygone Years contains a most interesting work in this regard - “The Philosopher’s Speech”, in which the Greek preacher reveals to Prince Vladimir an impressive panorama of world history, filled with the search for goodness and meaning, crying out for the suffering of the human race, permeated with a thirst for its renewal.
Christianity, not only in comparison with the primitive beliefs of the Slavs, but also with the developed ancient ideas, takes a step forward by activating social consciousness, for the center of gravity moves from the natural world to the human world, while “ancient philosophy of history is based on the primacy of nature, and therefore on the reduction of the importance of the human subject and human society” (84, 202).
The idea of development is actively being introduced into medieval consciousness. “Ancient things are passing by, today everything is new” - these words of the Apostle Paul were loved by the generations who lived in those days, to whom their era did not at all seem like a time of decline, stagnation, a kind of failure in culture, as it was later imagined by a number of bourgeois enlighteners. On the contrary, the Middle Ages were sincerely convinced of their great historical mission. It divided world history into old and new eras, the boundary of which was the emergence of a new ideology that brought salvation to suffering humanity. Everything that happened before the birth of Christ is the prehistory of human history itself, just a prelude to the solemn symphony of jubilant “new people” who have taken off the clothes of the “old Adam.”
Local legends, local beliefs, local chronology are replaced by a single, all-absorbing global flow of being and consciousness. “History has turned into world history, permeated with a single meaning and guided by a transcendental plan” (45, 105). During the Renaissance, this concept, expressed, in particular, in the historiosophy of Augustine, still attracts the attention of contemporaries: it is not without reason that Erasmus of Rotterdam published his work “De civitate Dei,” which Vives thoroughly comments on.
Maxim's ideas are in tune with his era. In the words of John Chrysostom, he rejects the principle of cyclicity (“conveyance”), considering all the events that took place unique: “... where is the essence... of the circulation of times?.. who remembered when another Christ appeared?” (14, ", 412–413). The vicious circle of “communication” unfolds into an ascending line of development from the past to the future. It is the unclean one who leads foolish people around in circles, like a lost traveler. The path of movement is unknown to humanity - it is following it for the first time. No one except the Almighty can judge the future. Therefore, all the prophecies of astrologers, seers and other charlatans are false, into whose ears the devil himself whispers his false predictions, designed to lead people astray.
Maxim refers to Augustine, who for him is “an irresistible witness,” in particular to his interpretation of the Book of Genesis: “...Augustine of Hippo, in the first chapter of interpretations to the world of existence, literally says: as the astrologers many times foretell the truth about the future, both not only from heavenly signs, but also from an undisclosed satanic conference, Because human minds have no time, and do not feel, they endure...” (ibid., 418). The oracles of the future do not stand up to the criticism of reason.
The Greek turns to the past to support his views. He describes the greatness of the Roman power, exalted by the power of arms and the courage of its citizens. But mighty Rome, “with its proud and most unrighteous kings,” became during the empire the kingdom of evil, the “harlot of Babylon,” according to John the Theologian, drinking blood from enslaved peoples and clanging with “destructive jaws” at the righteous who denounced her. But how can injustice triumph? Maxim experiences history not as a fatal process, but... as a battlefield of good and evil, where all people take an active part, where the standard-bearers of the spirit leading them pave the way to victory. In the “Word of Commendation to Peter and Paul,” the Holy Highlander admires how “two unskilled men” destroy “Rome has been transformed” with the gospel teaching and “with their blood,” for “God is not in power, but in righteousness.” According to legend, Alexander Nevsky would say these words before the Battle of the Ice (see 96, 27, 43); they were often heard in the past in Rus'.
Of course, the Athonite does not give a socio-economic analysis of the fall of the Roman Empire; he understands it primarily in the spirit of the universal struggle between good and evil. But doesn’t the moral factor play a great role in history? Isn’t people’s faith in a just cause, the defense of goodness and justice, stronger than any weapon? It seems to him not accidental, but deeply natural that the fallen capital of the hated empire became the “city of St. Peter,” who died as a martyr under Emperor Nero. The “Stone of Faith” crushed the stone of despotism!
But, as the Holy Mountainer says, “What glory stands on earth without fail?” Only a few centuries have passed, and the previously persecuted church, which once arose as a “movement of the oppressed” (1, 22, 467), turns into an accomplice of feudal exploitation, gains strength, accumulates treasures, and again Rome turns into the “harlot on seven hills.” That inevitable degeneration of Christianity took place, which, in particular, Dostoevsky spoke about in “The Legend of the Grand Inquisitor.” This is the dialectic of history, and Maxim feels it: “...where, even though it has grown in good faith, is the notorious height and praise of all Western language, the holy, I say, catholic and apostolic church of Old Rome?” (14, 7. 133).
And Eastern Christianity is subjected to the blows of history: “...where, even in piety and honesty, the beauty and glory of the former faithful in Jerusalem, and Alexandria, and Egypt, and Libya, and Antioch?” Because of the sins of Christians, the “New Rome” - Byzantium - is also perishing, which is not saved by numerous troops, nor the walls of fortresses, nor the relics of the righteous, nor fervent prayers, nor even Sophia itself. If a kingdom becomes unrighteous, it cannot stand; no force can save him from the punishing sword placed in the hands of foreigners. Not only the Latin West and the Orthodox East, but the whole world, according to the Greek, was filled with heresy and sin, which is why it became the prey of the Ishmaelites: “Go with your mental, soul, eye to India and Ethiopia, the last ends of the universe, and there you will find all the ugliness and abomination of all kinds of heresies” (ibid., 133-134). But the triumph of Islam does not last forever; his power built on violence will collapse. Maxim could not foresee the events of the 15th-19th centuries, but this is exactly what happened. The moral interpretation of history also has its own compelling logic.
The Greek is no stranger to the historical approach. He points out as the reasons for the weakening of Christian states their fragmentation, mutual hostility and lack of coordination of actions: “On the contrary, the remnant of the Western Roman powers, divided into many kingdoms and states, and constantly living hostilely among themselves, and at war with each other, was the Western king... the Greek and the Bulgars and the Serbs, who together exterminated them all there is a wicked, godless Ishmaelite sent from above upon us” (ibid., 142). The monk recalls the words of the Evangelist Matthew: “Any kingdom divided into one will be desolate.”
Maxim develops a unique concept of “optimistic agnosticism”, according to which a person is not given the ability to know the hidden meaning of events, he can only guess about them, and this is not necessary, we must accept the flow of the historical stream as such, entrusting ourselves to a higher will that cares about our well-being. The main thing that a person can and should do is to fight evil both within himself and among people, for divine guardianship does not guarantee a successful outcome, but creates its possibility. “God foresees everything, but does not predetermine everything,” believed John of Damascus (59, 237). To turn a saving opportunity into reality, to swim in the river of life, not to drown in the abyss of non-existence - this is the main thing. This is precisely what the “moral philosophy” professed by the Greek teaches... The medieval philosophy of history has its own dialectical features. Christ was called the “New Adam”, the future century was seen as the “New Jerusalem”, the entire Old Testament life, through the quest of the prophets, rushed into the New Testament, the past foreshadowed the future in meaningful symbols.
What previously brought suffering to a person now brings blessings. The woman Eve destroyed Adam - the woman Mary gives the Savior. The fallen human race was destroyed by the water of the flood; it is saved by the water of baptism. The tree of the crucifixion, a symbol of shameful execution, becomes idolized. “What, once abhorred and cursed and hated, like a mortal instrument, a cruciform tree, is now worship and veneration so much desired and with all honesty?” (14, ", 50).
Human thought reflects the complex path of people. The sages of the past seem to line up in a consistent chain of minds. Among them are biblical prophets and ancient philosophers (“many wise men from the Greeks”). This is exactly how Hellenic thinkers are depicted on the frescoes of the porch of the Annunciation Cathedral of the Moscow Kremlin, and among them Maxim the Greek. For him, history is not a heap of accidents; it has its own deep meaning.
Chapter V. Ontology and epistemology
Who doesn’t know Rublev’s “Trinity”? Three thoughtful angels are having a silent conversation about the meaning of existence. The circular composition of lines creates the outline of the universe itself, the sphericity of which was justified by the ancient Greeks. The absence of everyday details gives each detail the meaning of a deep symbol. The tree is not just a Mamvrian oak, under which the forefather Abraham treated the three wanderers who appeared to him, it is the tree of life. The building is not only an architectural backdrop, the house of Abraham, but it is an understanding of the world as a well-ordered city. A mountain is not just a landscape background, but a symbol of the ascent of the spirit to the heights of knowledge of the highest secrets of existence. As Maxim writes, who undoubtedly saw this masterpiece of Russian painting when he was in the Trinity-Sergius Monastery, “...we strive to raise the mountain of our minds” (14:2, 6). In the center of the composition is a cup of atoning sacrifice, reminiscent of the moral duty of every person to serve goodness and love people as their brothers.
Rublev's “Trinity,” created “in memory and praise” of Sergius of Radonezh to overcome the “hateful discord of this world,” is as philosophical as the image of Sophia the Wisdom; in an artistic and plastic form, without any words, categories or syllogisms, it reveals the image of the world and the meaning of existence. This is “speculation in colors,” a special type of wisdom developed in Rus' to a high level of perfection.
The Old Testament Trinity in a plastically visible form expresses the trinitarian concept of the universe: “The figures of three angels were perceived as a symbol of the triune deity...” (80, 294). In the New Testament tradition, they receive the form of independent hypostases - Father, Son, St. Spirit. The Trinity acts as an ontological and epistemological number in many ideological and philosophical systems: Indian trimurti (Brahma, Shiva, Vishnu); The One, the Mind, the Soul in Plato and the Neoplatonists; Kant's trichotomy; Hegel's triad. The number three, used more than all others in thinking, folklore, writing, and practical activity in all civilizations, is associated with the idea of the orderliness of being in people's minds. It serves as a designation for the systematized infinity of the universe, expresses multiplicity in general in the form of an optimal set, since one means the unity of the world, two means its binary nature, polarity, but not diversity.
And just as a material tripod often represents the most convenient support for real objects, so, using ancient Russian terminology, a “mental tripod” helps organize information about the world in the form of a laconic and capacious set. Three as a “key word” is often used and played up in ancient Russian literature, for example by Epiphanius the Wise (see 81, 118–119).
While it is easy to use the triad, it is very difficult to understand through it the dialectic of the one and the multiple. Voltaire in his time made a lot of irony about the trinitarian principle of being, but it is much more difficult to understand. Thousands of minds in a rational and intuitive form, in a logical and figurative way, by the method of allegory and symbol, tried to capture and express this elusive and inexpressible dialectic of existence. Maxim the Greek also tried to comprehend for himself and explain to those who asked him the “ineffable secret of the Trinity.” All his discussions are, of course, about God, but the God of the Middle Ages is not a purely religious concept, it is also a philosophical idea of substance, possessing what we call the attributes of matter - eternity, infinity, absolute existence. This is at the same time a kind of ideal - the maximum of all human abilities; as Maxim writes, God is “all-wise, most good, most generous, all-pure...” (14, “, 69).
It is not surprising that such a synthesis in one super-concept of the immensity of the universe and the highest human qualities, in the words of Kuzantz, “the absolute maximum” (quoted from: 60, 40), was so revered in the Middle Ages. Without going into further discussion of this topic, let us try to trace the Greek ideas about God as a substance.
“There are three Gods, not three gods,” says the Athonite, recognizing in a monotheistic form the monistic concept of being. As a substance, God is “beginningless and infinite.” The thinker tries to reveal the dialectic of the one and the plural in this way: “As we say mind, words and spirit - one soul, three, and not three souls, as we say paten, light, rays - one sun, this three, and not three suns, the sun and the mystery of the Holy Trinity” (14, “, 160). Maxim also compares the Trinity with a house of three floors, with a day consisting of morning, noon and evening, with “three suns.” The Greek interprets these comparisons, borrowed from patriotic and contemporary literature, as nothing more than analogies accessible to ordinary consciousness. In his polemic with Boolean, he resolutely opposes both any likening of an allegory or symbol to the very “ineffable mystery” of God - substance, and against the “positivist” desire to express its essence in a mathematical or other original way, which was fashionable in enlightened Europe of that time.
Maxim calls this idolatry, which only at first seems like a thoughtful reflection, but then appears to be a child’s game, and not genuine philosophy: “... calling this childish is very righteous: since those who do not play more than the sitsev, whoever would call it lower than philosophizing” (ibid., 299)..
According to Augustine, “the signs of St. The trinities are in man" (17, 397). It implies “trinity in themselves”: the existence of man, his mind and will; life, in fact, consists of existence, knowledge and desire. Three as an ontological and epistemological number varies endlessly among many thinkers of the past. Maxim also resorts to this technique. For him, a person is the Father, the word he pronounces is the Logos, the breath emanating from the mouth along with speech is the Holy Spirit. Here, as if in reverse projection, we see what may have served as the basis for the New Testament interpretation of the Trinity. God is a substance conceptualized in the image and likeness of man; in the words of Feuerbach, “God is the revelation of the inner essence of man, the expression of his “I” ...” (21, 3, 445).
Based on Damascus, the Athonite ascribes to each hypostasis an inseparable property that belongs only to it: the Father has “non-birth”, the Son has “birth”. Spirit – “finding”. A similar division was introduced by Gregory of Nazianzus in the 4th century, but in general, the dogma of the triune deity represents “the result of long-term rationalistic research in Christian thinking...” (31, 32). The procession of the Spirit from the Son, as Maxim believes, violates the monistic unity of substance, introducing dualism of two sources of procession. Therefore, he criticizes the Catholic dogma of the filioque. And just as “our spirit does not come from our word,” so the Holy Spirit cannot come from the Logos, the word of God (14, ", 336–337).
Maxim also discusses other theological and philosophical problems: the dual nature of Christ, the sacrament of the Eucharist, the essence of the Mother of God. He does not accept the Catholic idea of the Virgin Mary as a rose, for “radon” has, in addition to fragrance, thorns, but the lily, which does not have such a defect, together with its delicate aroma, “also forms with its three leaves, the three divine hypostases of the Holy Trinity” (ibid., 507). The Athonite man is not going to follow Tertullian’s slogan “I believe because it is absurd,” but he is aware that it is impossible to fully comprehend the deep mysteries of existence. It is unthinkable to understand the mystery of the “most lofty Trinity” with “cunning silologism.” Only madmen can try to grasp the entire abyss of the universe with their hands: “... measure the abyss with your handful” (ibid., 337). In the Areopagistic spirit, he represents the deity in the form of a super-powerful source of light, which even seraphim cannot see, covering their faces with wings so as not to be blinded by the unbearable divine light.
The Greek has no attempts to explore the material world, he has no descriptions of nature, although he has seen a lot in his lifetime: incomparable Hellas, beautiful Italy, quiet Athos, picturesque Crimea, vast Russia. I saw magnificent cities, seas, forests, steppes. But all this enchanting diversity of the external world, apparently, did not touch him; it seemed to pass by, not being imprinted in his works. The lack of interest in the physical world is explained by the fact that all attention is focused on the ideal, primary essence of things. Like Plato, he strives with the “mental eye” to see the “primitive beauty” of a spiritual substance perceived only intelligibly, as well as the angelic hierarchy that complements it, the ranks of which represent anthropomorphically - symbolically expressed ideal duplicates of things and phenomena, the primitive ideas of ancient philosophy. Such a synthesis of “the wisdom of the Bible and the wisdom of Athens” (19, 41) is characteristic not only of medieval thinking.
Marsilio Ficino, in his commentary on Plato’s Symposium, depicts the universe in the same way, believing that the “picture of the world” appears most clearly in angels and souls: “They contain the form of each celestial sphere, the sun, the moon and other luminaries, the elements, stones, trees, each of the animals. Pictures of this kind are called by Platonists in angels prototypes and ideas, in souls - logoi and concepts, in the material world - forms and images; clear in the material world, they are clearest in the soul and clearest in the mind of an angel” (16, 148).
Hierarchy, acting as the “ideal form of feudalism” (1, 3, 164), helped to organize existence in the consciousness of medieval man, to bring the penal world and the natural world into line with the social world. She, according to Aquinas, inspires the idea of subordination, for “the perfection of the universe requires that inequality be present in things in order for all degrees of perfection to be realized” (25, 156). Frightened by the black abyss of chaos, man sought to order the world in the form of a harmoniously arranged universe, in the center of which was the land of people. Man was not created for the world, but the world was created for man. “The stars all work for you, for for your sake everything was created,” exclaims Maxim (14, 2, 87). Medieval geocentrism and anthropocentrism had their own ideological meaning, as if affirming the value of man in the infinity of the universe.
In the Middle Ages, the ancient doctrine of the elements continued to exist, which Empedocles called “the roots of things” and which were understood as the physical basis of being - “stoicheion” (stoicheion) and as a natural philosophical principle - “arche” (arche). The classical doctrine of the four elements (water, earth, fire, air) with the sometimes added fifth essence - “quintessence” (ether) is often found in eastern, western, and ancient Russian sources. Maxim shares it, believing that man, like the world, “is composed of earth and fire and air and water” (14, 3, 37). In the spirit of the medicine of that time, following Galen and Hippocrates, he believes that in the body the four elements take the form of special “phlegm” (blood, phlegm, black and red bile), from an unfavorable combination of which bodily ailments occur, “due to some evil solution and inequality of the four phlegm existing in us” (14, “, 435).
At the same time, the Greek, referring to the Apostle Paul, condemns those who try to follow the more broadly understood “elements of this world,” for they do not determine the essence of the universe, which is the prerogative of the highest spiritual substance. It determines the course of things, brings harmony and regularity. There is no place in the world for extra-divine “imarmene” (heimarmene – necessity) and “tyche” (tyche – accident).
Maxim has many interesting thoughts about man, but they are also scattered throughout his writings. Such a dispersion of essentially philosophical ideas and the absence of their formal and logical systematization distinguish many thinkers who gravitate toward a form of philosophizing close to literature, art, and preaching. It is not at all an expression of amateurism or ineptitude, it is a Special Technique. The Greek's philosophical thoughts and generalizations are not scattered in disorder; they either precede the understanding of a specific issue, or arise in the course of reasoning, or complete the analysis of any issue... How organically they are combined with the main text can be seen in such a characteristic work for the Athonite as “Eulogy to Peter and Paul” (see 14, ", 180–212).
The Greek's manner of presenting ideas is generally broad: from serious and sublime reflection to passionate polemics and subtle irony. Thus, in the “Disciplinary Word on the Correction of Books,” along with a thoughtful terminological analysis of some concepts (essence, property, describability), he ridicules those would-be sages who, because of their ignorance, do not understand the deep meaning of the books they read, “not really familiar with the secrets of sacred philosophy.” He ironically calls the book-eaters, who understand texts “by ink,” “wonderful theologians,” “wonderful philosophers,” who speak not from a high spirit, but “from their belly.” These "ventriloquists" do not deserve the title of wise.
“The center of Maxim’s philosophical thinking was man himself,” says D. Haney (139, 146), and we can agree with this. The world was created for man, for man there are gifts of nature and gifts of the spirit, and philosophy itself exists to teach him a righteous life. But the monk does not idolize (like Feuerbach in the philosophy of modern times) man as such; revealing the complex dialectic of soul and body, he shows the struggle of different principles within it, the incompatibility of aspirations, the confrontation between the high and the low. Man is a microcosm in which the entire universe is reflected like a drop, and that is why it is so difficult to understand him (see 138, 5, 121–125). The Athos man likens a man to a turbulent sea, “tea with windy breaths and violently troubled” (14, 2, 66).
According to the ancient tradition, he distinguishes three principles in a person: carnal, mental and spiritual, corresponding to the sensual, volitional and rational. He who lives according to the flesh is likened to an animal; a “spiritual” person is carried away by his subjective desires; only a “spiritual” husband carries the truth within himself (see 5, l. 305; borrowed from “The Court”). The mind, as a verbal, divine principle, must dominate in a person; it is the “helmsman of the soul.” Maximus likens him to a “horseman” carried away by two harnessed “horses” (like the driver of a rushing chariot in Plato’s “Phaedrus”), and woe to the rider if he is “overthrown” by them. The human mind is “autocratic” – “power. but our mind has strength” (14, “, 391), but he must learn the art of controlling soul and body.
Man has a high destiny: “Our height of glory, about the soul, is cognizable and we do not liken ourselves without mind to dumb cattle” (14, 2, 6). We must not blind the “verbal part”; we must strive with all our might to enlighten it. The mind and soul talk about this in Maxim’s most philosophical dialogues. We cannot please our belly, otherwise we will become like gluttons, “God eats their belly.” The Greek often condemns the insatiable womb, by “fattening” which, a person descends to the level of an animal: “O womb is cold and never satiated... But obeying you, I am all evil servants of you, and we are likened to dumb cattle by the passions of you” (ibid., 153-154). The theme of the “womb” as a source of human vices and weaknesses, making a person a slave of his body, is well developed in Rabelais (see 22, 138). Temperance is understood by the Greek as “the basis of all virtues.”
Instead of gluttony on the fruits of the earth, Maxim points to the need for spiritual saturation. Like Plato (in the dialogue “The Feast”), he depicts the process of knowledge as a genuine feast of the soul, as a true “meal” worthy of man, where they present him with a “golden cup” full of “heavenly nectar” (14, 2, 46–47). He invites his brothers, who are often carried away by worldly goods, to “this mental feast,” and this sounds like a philosophical call for people to find a way of being worthy of them.
Maxim philosophically discusses such a seemingly mundane issue as wearing a beard. He writes a special message to Ivan the Terrible about barber shaving (see 50, appendix, 81–89), where he discusses the expediency and beauty of all parts of the human body: “And barbering was most kindly intended by the wisest cunning God, not just for the recognition of the female and male sexes, but also for the honest beauty of our faces.” The beard, revered by many nations, was also respected in Rus'; it meant (1) Russian, (2) Orthodox and (3) saint (see 98, 39). Removing a beard was considered dishonorable, especially because perverts infected with the sin of Sodom “transformed their male face into a female one” (Daniel). To the Latins, who shave their beards supposedly to remove themselves from “vain vanity,” he sarcastically remarks that, due to their sins, they should also cut off other parts of the body: “But the Savior commands us not to cut off the evils of our bodies, but the evil lusts of our souls, which act by these evils.”
The complex world of the human soul is reflected in the polysemantic nature of the images that the thinker uses, expressing its immeasurable depth. He likens the soul to a ship sailing on the stormy waves of the worldly sea to the harbor of a “heavenly haven” (14, 2, 23); compares it to wax, softened by spiritual warmth; with the earth bearing fruit or drying up according to the will of the highest (14, “, 323). He readily resorts to calling the soul a mirror, which was very common in medieval literature. The monk depicts a soul darkened by passions as “a mirror riddled with thick mud” (previously, mirrors were made of polished metal, which, if it was not noble, could rust). He also resorts to the following comparison: to humiliate one’s soul is the same as “bringing copper on a golden image,” that is, covering the unfading gold of the soul with the oxidizing rough copper of base carnal passions (14, 2, 11).
If Metropolitan Nikifor, one of the first in Rus' to expound in the 12th century. Plato’s teaching about the “tripartite soul” calls the feelings “servants” and “governors”, subordinate to the soul - the prince (21, “, 701), then Maxim resorts to the image of “five-numbered doors” through which sounds, smells, light, and all information about the outside world penetrate into the house of the soul. Through “our doors, that is, our senses,” the soul sees both the mysterious darkness of the universe and the unbearable divine light, which in order to preserve the soul cannot be fully embraced, for darkness can devour, and light can blind. Here the mind must help, which not only adorns the “inner man” with “wisdom, meekness and all righteousness,” but also the sense organs “can better arrange”: “hair,” and “hearing,” and “tongue,” and “hand” (14, 2, 158).
The human mind is also not a pillar of stone. According to the ancient tradition, the Greek compares it, most likely coming from Plato (see “Theaetetus”, 191c - 195a), with wax and paper, accepting various letters from the wiser: “As if anyone wants to inscribe Jacob’s writing on those; in the same way the human mind” (ibid., 165). Maxim does not accept the concept of the innateness of ideas, in particular moral ones. An Athonite man likens an uncollected mind to an unbroken stallion and a reed shaken by the wind: “The mind, which is not the same as we observe, will not distinguish the unbridled foals, and the reeds shaken by all sorts of windy winds” (ibid., 224). He calls to enlighten the mind and soul, gradually ascending the ladder of moral and spiritual improvement.
A person is connected with the outside world by inextricable ties, he peers into it and learns what books tell about, and in books he discovers what surrounds him in the world. The Biblical Book of Genesis appears as the expression in words of existence itself, and the Universe is like an open book, full of shimmering symbols that can be interpreted by wise men called philosophers. “For medieval man, nature was a “great reservoir of symbols”” (45, 52). The most visible connection between the microcosm and the macrocosm was seen in signs, special signs of man’s involvement in the universe. The chronicler writes with trepidation: “At the same time, there was a sign in the west, a great star, rays like bloody ones, rising in the evening after sunset, and lasted for 7 days. But this was not for good, since there was much strife and an invasion of the filthy on the Russian land, and this star was like a bloody one, manifesting the shedding of blood" (96, ", column 164).
Maximus, referring to Damascus, recognizes the signs that precede “rain and lack of water, cold weather and warmth, wetness and dryness and wind” (14, “, 387). They can be signs of social disasters: famine, pestilence, epidemics, wars. However, signs only report external events, and even then “they are not always true, but most of all they sin”; The world of a person’s soul, the Greek believes, his free will, his deeds are not subject to signs: “... we are autocratic, having been (created) by the creator, we are rulers of our deeds.” In this regard, the Holy Mountain rises not only above medieval ideas, but also above the astrological predictions of many contemporaries of the Renaissance. Man is connected with the universe, but is not fatally subordinate to it; Possessing reason and free will, he has the opportunity to choose, actively participate in his destiny, and self-create his existence.
Maxim considers knowledge to be inseparable from the moral principle. In the “Word on the Latins” he writes, referring to a well-known expression from the Book of Proverbs of Solomon, one of the most philosophical books of antiquity: “But into an evil soul, says the wisest Solomon, wisdom does not enter” (14, “, 265). This universal human thought is consonant with Pushkin’s idea, which is valid at all times, expressed by him in the tragedy “Mozart and Salieri”: “Genius and villainy are two incompatible things.” A mind that has no support in morality can turn into an evil, cruel, inhuman force. One cannot but agree with this.
The thinker also uses another attitude, also drawn from the Bible: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” (14, 2, 67). This idea, which is repeatedly found in the Holy Scriptures (in the Book of Proverbs of Solomon, in the Psalter, in the Book of Jesus son of Sirach), seems unexpected, absurd and even harmful to modern people; it is not without reason that it was often ridiculed in modern times. Can fear contribute to knowledge? But the semantics of medieval concepts is not identical to modern ones; it cannot be taken out of the context of the worldview of that time. In this case, we are not talking about fear as the fear of something bad, repulsive, hostile to man, but about soul-shattering surprise before the abyss of the universe, before the greatness of the deity, before the inexorability of the moral law, before which only stupid and unspiritual creatures like animals, serenely chewing their cud in any conditions, can not tremble, as long as their belly is satisfied. “With much fear,” Maxim approaches the most secret truths.
“Oh, be horrified, ends of the universe,” he exclaims, describing the fall of Rome (14, ", 211).
The Greek is also familiar with the feeling of surprise, with which the process of cognition often begins. He, like other thinkers, is struck by the fact that the gospel teaching was revealed in all its moral depth not to the wise Pharisees and scribes, but to simple fishermen, tax collectors, women and even children who do not know life, but are pure in heart. Isn’t it amazing that Christ, “driven from everyone, fleeing, dying and lending, with two dozen men without books, leading nothing else, except fishing, not one language, not two, but the fiery sun flowing around the earth and surrounding the oceans, brought into the light of good faith and deeds of righteousness..?” (ibid., 48–49). Truly a “wonderful miracle” - the story of the rise of Christianity from a persecuted heresy in Judaism to the most influential world religion, as was believed in the Middle Ages.
As a sober philosopher and philologist, Maxim does not take any idea or word on faith. He criticizes the apocrypha about the “sinful handwriting,” in which the anonymous authors, suffering from “final ignorance and lack of art,” claim that “the primordial Adam gave on himself to the devil who deceived him the manuscripts of the eternal work.” The Athonite calls, referring to the “secret verb” of John the Theologian, to test the thought: “Do not believe every spirit that is taught differently, but tempt them...” (ibid., 533). You should not believe any written word. With all due respect to the book, it should be understood that some of them are false; Therefore, it is appropriate “to tempt with much caution and sober mind... from certain written books” (14, 3, 125–126). Maxim is also critical of the printed word. He often uses the epistemological principle of doubt, which is a “preliminary stage of knowledge” for Augustine and Descartes (122, 543).
Knowledge itself is possible in different ways. Maxim does not at all deny the methods of the “district sciences”; he recognizes the usefulness of logic and tries to classify terms and concepts; but he considers the highest (not indirect, but direct) type of knowledge to be direct participation in the truth, the sensation of it not only with reason or even reason, but with the whole being of a person. To live in the truth, to think in the truth, to create in the truth, to merge with it into one whole - this, according to the Greek, is the highest goal of a thinking being, but it is not accessible to every person, it is not achieved by calm contemplation and a comfortable life. “The thought of the flesh can be curbed only at the cost of great spiritual effort, through severe trials of soul and body.
Maxim experienced this with all his might during his imprisonment in the Joseph-Volokolamsk Monastery. Thrown into a dark cell, which can rather be called a solitary cell, in tears and torment he finds the only consolation - the truth, for the sake of which he can endure everything. With charcoal on the wall he writes a canon to the Paraclete, the spirit of truth and the comforter (from Parakletos) “in the Greek language paraclete... in Slovenian the summoner or comforter will be called” - 113, 2, st. 879). It is not often possible to find in philosophical and near-philosophical literature such a sublime and sincere hymn to Truth, similar to the hymnographic creation of Maximus (11, l. 701–711).
“Who is from above with strength, who is weak with sorrow, strengthen my heart and stir up my thoughts,” cries the prisoner. “Come one to one, for there is one as you see,” begs the monk suffering alone, hoping for the support of the truth for which. he suffered and which does not come in noisy gatherings, but appears to those who thirst for it in private. Communicating with the truth is a deeply intimate and secret process. The Greek endows the Paraclete with sublime epithets: “all-wise, all-powerful, omnipotent, unchangeable, immutable, indescribable, incomprehensible, unknown, unsearchable, innumerably gifted, most good... wisdom itself and the source of wisdom.” From him are all the blessings of knowledge: “... from you we can see the kindness of heaven, the solar current, the circle of the moon, the decoration of the stars, and the harmony and various movements of all... from you we understand the hourly change, the change of times, the changes of the wind, the summer circulation... you give us agriculture, nutrition, laws of art, customs, virtues, living...
there is a vast abyss of wisdom and strength, countless and incomprehensible, an immense and indescribable abyss for life and immortality, an inexhaustible and inexhaustible treasure for reason and meaning, a universal and inexhaustible and inexhaustible repository for goodness and mercy.” Inspirational and poetic eloquence emanates from this panegyric, modeled on the hymnographic works of the Byzantine “sweet singers”. This is not just a sophisticated “weaving of words”, but the colorful strokes of an inspired artist, a word that draws an indescribable image of Truth, the immeasurability of which cannot be expressed by all the richness of developed human speech, even the most refined Greek and rich in shades of Slavic languages (see 19, 221–249).
Everyone needs the Paraclete, the Greek believes: in youth it delivers from destructive passions, in adulthood it guides the boat of life along the stormy waves of existence, in old age it serves as a consolation. He inspired the persecuted and beaten prophets to stand for the truth. He descended with the holy spirit on the apostles and inspired them. He helps everyone who seeks him, but comes only to those who are kind in heart and pure in soul. In many of his works, the Athonite man refers to the Paraclete, who acts as “a kind of inspirer and patron of the work of Maxim the Greek” (94, 58). Calling on the spirit of truth, he thinks not only about himself: “... may the grace of the Comforter’s mental sun shine upon everyone in common...” (14, 2, 316). In addition to the canon to the Paraclete, sung by a “sober mind,” Maxim wrote a prayer to him, usually placed after the canon. In it, the Paraclete is called upon to first cleanse the soul of everything that prevents it from joining the truth, and then fill it with its grace, bestow “mind and spiritual art,” and enlighten the mind and heart.
The canon itself, as it is written in the legends about Maxim, was created by him “according to the information and instructions” of the Paraclete (24, appendix XX). In terms of the power of its impact, it is reminiscent of Savonarola’s “Miserere”, which he wrote. in prison before execution. The canon, together with the prayer, was included by the author in the earliest collection of his works during his lifetime (3, l. 408 vol. - 416). Being the final text of the Joasaph collection, it carries a special semantic load. As N.V. Sinitsyna rightly notes, the lifetime works ruled by the Athonite as the compiler and author of the collected works have a well-thought-out logical system and deep moral and philosophical content; these are genuine medieval sums. On the one hand, they systematically set out Maxim’s views on dogmatic, philosophical, and political problems, on the other hand, they prove the injustice of the accusations brought against him. “The picture of the author’s worldview gradually unfolds before the reader; here is a single complex, precisely as Summa, conceived and executed” (106, 175).
In medieval literature the word heart is often used in epistemological terms. “Gathering good thoughts in your heart”, “God put a thought in your heart”, “the devil has darkened your heart”, “having understood an evil thought in your heart”, “having enlightened your heart” - these expressions taken from ancient Russian texts show a special idea of the process of cognition, in which the emotional principle is assigned a significant, if not dominant, role in comparison with reason. This concept, little studied in our philosophical literature, is of considerable importance for understanding a special line in epistemology, says V. Biesterfeld (see 141, 3, kol. 1100–1112). In modern times, its prominent representatives are Pascal and Feuerbach.
The Athonite considers the enlightenment of the heart by the Paraclete to be a necessary condition for knowledge. “Heavy-hearted”, “high-minded at heart” are not able to join in with goodness and truth; they will forever remain “foolish and dull in thought.” What a pity for these darkened people, for “their heart is vain”, “the enemy enters their hearts and blinds the eyes of their souls” (14, 7, 492-493). The heart needs not only enlightenment by truth, but also softening by mercy, responsiveness, and kindness. “Hard-hearted” people, incapable of compassion, cannot understand their own kind; the truth itself, which is closely connected with goodness, is alien to them. “We will be afraid, we will cry, we will leave our anger, we will show deeds of true repentance,” Maxim exhorts, calling on the soul and heart to “always wash yourself with warm tears” (14, 2, 247).
Love is inseparable from the heart; their epistemological connection is that love cleanses the heart, and the heart enlightens the mind. As Augustine says, “We know to that extent. in which we love.” And for Pascal, “love” (“heart”) paves the way for the mind to things and people (122, 341). The “love” of Empedocles that unites the world, the “eros” of Plato that inspires knowledge, the “heart” of Feuerbach, as the focus of human essence, express that respect for the emotional content of the process of cognition and human life, which is sometimes forgotten in later rational concepts. Maxim puts love “above all”, often mentions it, believes that true perfection, including in knowledge, may not “cunning arrogance”, but “unhypocritical love for all people” (14, “, 77). He likens the heart to a “sweet-voiced harp”, on which the mind, like a “good sly”, composes a beautiful song - an image suggested to Maxim the Greek by the biblical text.
It is also impossible to ignore the fact that knowledge is associated by the Greek with Christ, understood in Gnostic and patriotic literature as the incarnate Word, as the Logos so polysemantically interpreted in the Greek language. Maxim says that this is “not just some wise man of this world, but... who is the hypostatic wisdom of God and the Father” (ibid., 110). It was as if the truth had descended to earth, walked among people, healed people from illnesses, and freed them from the heavy oppression of social injustice. According to the Evangelist John, “you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free” (John 8:32). This was a conscious departure into the spiritual sphere, which did not make people happier materially, but helped them endure the burden of existence in an “immensely bitter world” (Dante).
Under these conditions, silence acquires a special epistemological and social meaning. Afonets writes that you need to “love silence”, “hide in your thoughts” your most cherished thoughts, but “always do it diligently” (14, 2, 18). Medieval silence has its own deep semantic meaning, because, according to those ideas, it best introduces one to the truth, distracting from the vain multiplicity and chatter of words: “For this sake, run away from the meetings of the worldly, but silence is more convenient for uniting with God, always love” (ibid., 48).
Recognizing the direct experience of substantially understood truth as the highest form of knowledge, Maxim does not deny other ways of mastering the world. In his work, one can highlight the scientific, artistic and symbolic methods of cognition and expression of ideas that he successfully used. Conducting a thorough textual analysis of sources, substantiating the principles of translating books, pointing out the connection between thinking and language. The Greek acts as a scientist. Working in various literary genres, skillfully using the expressive capabilities of the Greek and Russian languages, creating poetic works, he is like a writer and a poet. But his style of presentation acquires the greatest expressiveness when he uses the philosophical-symbolic method: images of Vasily as a tormented kingdom, the soul as a “mirror” or ship, philosophy as a cypress.
Symbolization, very inherent in the medieval consciousness, acts as a kind of substitute for scientific and theoretical thinking; it is widely used for a thoughtful interpretation of empirical facts. A symbol acts not just as a sign of any objects, but as an “ideal construction of a thing” (A.F. Losev), containing all its diversity and creating “a perspective for its endless development in thought, the transition from a generalized semantic characteristic of an object to its individual specific units” (121, 5, 10). Everything was symbolized: past, present, future, things, phenomena, words, gestures, stones, flowers, stars, actions, thoughts. It is known, for example, that biblical events and realities were interpreted in four senses: literal (historical), encrypted (allegorical), moralizing (tropological), sacred (anagogical). “Jerusalem is literally an earthly city; in allegorical – church; in tropological terms - a righteous soul; in anagogical terms – heavenly homeland” (45, 76).
Maxim points out that it is necessary not to “bodily” understand the Bible, “let us understand what an abyss of destruction is opened to those who interpret it carelessly” (14, “. 285–286). Although he does not distinguish the 4-fold scale of Byzantine and Western theologians, he often resorts to symbolic interpretation of revered texts, especially the Psalter, thereby justifying the medieval concept of the philosopher as a wise interpreter of esoteric literature (see 86. 9 – 14).
Using various methods, drawing knowledge from different sources, but not indiscriminately, the Athonite man compares himself to a hardworking bee collecting nectar from many flowers: “... although I am jealous of the bees, they fly in every color, but do not collect honey from everyone” (14, “, 236). The image of the “busy bee,” extremely popular since antiquity, was associated in Rus' with a widely circulated collection of maxims by ancient and medieval authors, mainly Greek, which received a similar name. The very image of the bee was attributed to Isocrates: “Just as we see a bee flying around the garden and flying, from whom we receive useful things, so we carry away the student of philosophy and want to climb to heights with wisdom and collect radiant light from everywhere” (104, 167). Collections of this kind, in addition to the short one and having a lengthy title: “Speeches of Wisdom from the Gospel and from the Apostle and from the Saints, Men and External Philosophers,” were very common in the Middle Ages. They reflect another way of development of philosophical knowledge - aphoristic.
As for the Greek, he, collecting the nectar of thoughts, most of all values among the ancient philosophers Socrates, Plato and Aristotle (“considered to be the most honest and most truly loving of the Hellenic philosophers from the Middle Ages - Augustine, a man of philosophy is graceful in all, and his books are the most deliberate, and the trends of wisdom and spiritual benefits are filled” - ibid., 343) and John of Damascus (“like all philosophies and theology has reached the top” – 14, 3, 66); of his contemporaries - Savonarola (“full of all wisdom and intelligence” - ibid., 195).
Every person, Maxim believes, must find his own life purpose. You can find it by enlightening your own mind. The main thing that the Greek learned from reading wise books was an understanding of the source of his calling. It is necessary, the thinker believes, to understand what the “good gift” given from above consists of and “the gift is perfect” (1 Cor. 12:1-11). “Giving good” is “mental virtues, that is, meaning, courage, truth, chastity, meekness...” (14, “, 377). “The gift is perfect” - this is the “word of wisdom”, “the word of understanding”, the gift of prophecy, healing, interpretation of tongues (14, 3, 88). Many have spiritual virtues, but few have the perfect gift of being skilled in spiritual activities. The gifts of the spirit that flow from the Paraclete are different, but their meaning is the same - to enlighten humanity, which is the highest calling of talent and genius.
It would not be a mistake to say that Maxim, along with “giving good”, purely human virtues, also had a “perfect gift” - the talent of a publicist, thinker, preacher, which he completely dedicated to people in the name of truth and goodness. He is not like the fool from the Gospel parable who buried his talent in the ground; he is not like a court scribbler who exchanged serving the truth for serving the powerful of this world; he did not serve the golden calf and his own vanity. To the best of his strength and abilities, the Greek fought against lies and injustice, which is clear from the epigraph placed in front of the book and his words: “...to the ruin of lies we are composing for ourselves, with the fire of jealousy, even about the truth, burning” (14, ", 399).
Maxim the Greek honestly served the truth and saw in this the true calling of a thinker.
When getting acquainted with the ideological heritage of Maxim the Greek, a question involuntarily arises that is fundamentally important for the assessment of many representatives of ancient Russian wisdom: was he a genuine philosopher - without any exaggeration or reference to the era, peculiarities of the worldview and style of creativity? It seems that he was, although in one of his letters to F. Karpov he writes: “... and for God’s sake don’t call me a philosopher, I am the most ignorant language monk” (89, 1125). We will be greatly mistaken if we take these words expressed in the spirit of monastic humility literally. Here one should rather interpret it by contradiction: as much as Maxim was not the most ignorant of the monks, he has the right to bear the title of philosopher. This “most ignorant of all” acts as one of the most enlightened people in Russian society of his time, and “in terms of the richness of philosophical themes in his works, he occupies a leading position among Russian writers of the 16th century.” (56, 35, 119). And the Greek himself, having cast aside false modesty, sometimes highly values his creativity.
In one of the messages regarding his writings sent to Metropolitan Macarius, forming a collection compiled by him in his own hand, he writes: “... it was copied wisely and kindly by me”; he believes that his creations are filled with “contented wisdom and spiritual intelligence and strength” (14, 2, 383). And if Karpov, in the message to the Greek published by N.K. Nikolsky, considers himself a philosopher (89, 1123), then it seems that Maxim has no less right to this.
The Athonite does not belong to the narrow circle of people who often think that they alone are subject to philosophical thinking - as if thought could be monopolized. He was not a professional philosopher, but he was a free thinker. Professionalism gives a person a lot, but sometimes it deprives him of the opportunity to create and think uninhibitedly; it is not without reason that one of the demands of the humanists of the Renaissance was the liberation of thinking from the bonds of professionalism, enshrined by canonized authorities, in this case the theologized Aristotle (see 41, 74–75). The claims of professionals, which smack of corporate narrow-mindedness, were murderously ridiculed by Lucian of Samosata and Erasmus of Rotterdam.
Maxim acts as a philosopher in. in the broad sense of the word, like Tolstoy or Dostoevsky, who had a much greater influence on the development of Russian and European thought than many of their contemporary professional philosophers who tediously talked about substances and categories. And if, according to the admission of the far from Slavophile G. Schmidt, “the West had a decisive influence on the East through the philosophy of Hegel,” then the Slavic world “had the strongest influence on rationalized Western European thinking through the novels of Dostoevsky” (122, 225).
The history of civilization knows many forms of development of knowledge that is essentially philosophical, and it would be very unreasonable to reduce them to stereotypes accepted for a given era. The diversity of human wisdom, expressed in the hymns of the Rig Veda, Plato’s dialogues, Aristotle’s logic, Dante’s poetry, Descartes’ metaphysics, Hegel’s dialectics, Dostoevsky’s novels, Chaadaev’s letters, cannot be squeezed into the Procrustean bed of a one-sided idea of philosophy, revered for thousands of years as the high embodiment of reason in all the diversity of its manifestations. The universal role of philosophy presupposes the universality of the forms of its existence. The ancient Greeks, sophisticated in thinking, in their understanding of philosophy as the love of wisdom, as the knowledge of existence in all its manifestations, as a constant questioning of the meaning of being, had a very broad idea of it (see 140). In the Hellenistic and medieval eras this view of philosophy was largely preserved. Revered by many, including Maximus, Justin the Philosopher believes: “Philosophy...
there is knowledge about things and knowledge of the truth, and happiness is the reward of this knowledge and wisdom” (68, 147)..
One of the reasons for the poor study of ancient Russian wisdom is an inadequate idea of it, when it is, wittingly or unwittingly, thought of in the image and likeness of, if not modern, then at least a form of philosophizing familiar to current thinking. V.I. Lenin, taking notes on Hegel, advocates “for strict historicity in the history of philosophy, so as not to attribute to the ancients such a development of their ideas that we understand, but in fact was absent from the ancients” (2, 29, 222). Otherwise, the values of the past are roughly crushed or modernized beyond recognition, and in any case they do not appear in all their significance and depth.
Philosophy was understood in Rus' polysemantically: as generalized knowledge about the world and man, as a synthesis of spiritual and material experience, as a life-building teaching, as all-encompassing wisdom. Such ambiguity reflects, on the one hand, the lack of differentiation of philosophy into a special form of social consciousness and type of professional activity; on the other hand, it visibly embodies the respectful attitude towards it, borrowed from the ancients, as the highest quintessence of the human mind, permeating all spheres of existence.
Philosophy is the ability to think unusually, to understand the essence of parables, to interpret “deep” books, to reason about the sublime, and the Russian chronicler writes about Prince Vladimir of Volyn: “Volodimer, having understood the word more pleasantly and darkly and having told a lot from books with the bishop, was a great scribe and philosopher, who was not in all the earth and not in any will be” (96, 2, column 913). Philosophy is the art of defending beliefs, defending a professed teaching, and enlightening people with it - this is how the first Slavic teacher Constantine - Cyril and the nameless Greek preacher who delivered the “Philosopher’s Speech” before Prince Vladimir Svyatoslavich appear. Philosophy is the wise thoughts of the ancients, not always understandable, not always recognized, sometimes condemned, but forever ingrained in human culture - because philosophers in ancient Russian texts are called Homer, Menander, Virgil, Hippocrates.
Philosophy is not yet possession of the truth, but only aspiration, love for it - “philosophy”, for, as the author of this term Pythagoras himself said, “it would be premature to call philosophy “wisdom”, and the one practicing it - “sage”, as if he had already sharpened his spirit to the limit” (46, 66); therefore, the highest Wisdom is Sophia, and those who strive for it are philosophers. These are the ancient Russian ideas about philosophy; among them there is also our usual understanding of it as a theoretical understanding of being and consciousness, which is why the author of the purely philosophical “Dialectics” John of Damascus was revered as one of the most significant philosophers.
The diversity of wisdom is embodied in the abundance of ways of expressing it in Rus': collections of aphorisms, moralizing sermons, “epistolias” on a topical topic, polemical works, lives as a demonstration of practical philosophy; artistic expression in an icon, fresco, miniature, sewing, small plastic art, singing art - anything except those ponderous treatises of professionals who often gave philosophy a bad reputation as a tedious, incomprehensible, abstruse “science of a special kind.” All genres are good, as Voltaire used to say, except the boring.
The ideological legacy of Maxim the Greek fits perfectly into such a broad understanding of philosophy; it is no coincidence that he is referred to in Russian sources as “wonderful philosopher”, “beloved philosopher”, “skilled philosopher”, “graceful in philosophy”, “philosopher of the opinion”, “very wise in philosophy”, etc. One can only wish that modern philosophers would not deny him this high title. Maxim’s extensive legacy awaits further research; comprehending it is a great spiritual pleasure and a grateful task, for he constantly teaches to strive for goodness and justice, to despise acquisitiveness and opportunism, to have compassion for one’s neighbor, to be able to master words and thoughts, to strive for the possession of other, invisible, but priceless treasures, for, in his words, “spiritual wealth is the only true wealth” (14, 2, 10). Of course, not everything can be accepted from the Greek, not everything can be agreed with him, for the Athonite was the son of his era, but he taught to think - and this is the main thing.
Maximus is not a great philosopher like Plato, Augustine, Damascene, whom he revered so much. He is not equal to his contemporaries - Marsilio Ficino, Erasmus of Rotterdam, Thomas More, Copernicus, Luther, Vives, Rabelais, but he lived a bright life, absorbed the contradictory ideas of the era, was in constant burning spirit and, in his own way, sought to enlighten the minds of people. As one of the outstanding representatives of the thinking part of humanity, he is worthy of attention and respect, one of the manifestations of which is the proposed book dedicated to the 425th anniversary of the death of the thinker. While not presenting an exhaustive coverage of Maxim's philosophical views, it is one of the attempts at a modern philosophical reading of a certain range of ideas from his rich spiritual heritage.
Old Russian philosophy can be likened to Old Russian painting, the history of the discovery of which is very instructive. Until the beginning of our century, connoisseurs of fine art did not take it seriously, but when the first icons were cleared, an amazing range of colors, a subtle harmony of lines, and a deep thought expressed plastically appeared before everyone. “It was as if the veil that had covered the true face of Russian painting suddenly fell away. Instead of dark, gloomy icons covered with a thick layer of linseed oil, they saw the most beautiful works of art that could bring honor to any people” (80, 7). Now, without the Old Russian period, it is impossible to imagine the development of Russian painting. Many ancient Russian thinkers, who are still far from being appreciated for their worth, are awaiting such a “clearing.” And among them, one of the first places should rightfully be occupied by Maxim the Greek, who played no less a role in the development of Russian thinking than Theophanes the Greek in the history of Russian painting.
The author considers it his duty to express deep gratitude to V. G. Bryusova, D. M. Bulanin, G. G. Mayorov, N. V. Sinitsynry, T. A. Sumnikova, B. L. Fonkich and Hugh Olmsted for valuable information, advice and comments. I am grateful to the staff of the manuscript departments of the State Library of the USSR. V.I. Lenin and the State Historical Museum (Moscow), as well as the employees of the Zagorsk State Historical and Art Museum-Reserve for providing materials concerning the life and work of Maxim the Greek.
Appendix of extracts from the works of Maxim the Greek
Philosophy without belittling is a very revered and truly divine thing, for it diligently narrates about God and his truth and his all-pervading incomprehensible providence, although he does not comprehend everything, since he did not partake of divine inspiration like God’s prophets; He praises chastity, wisdom, and meekness, and establishes every other good ornament of character as a law, and establishes the best order in society, and, generally speaking, introduces all virtue and grace into this life. That is why someone from the ancients said: it seems to me more that a philosopher man does good in this life than a just king. It is appropriate for us to communicate with such people constantly, as mentors of truth and piety, collecting from them the best and that which contributes to our piety.
(From the message to Fyodor Karpov “Maxim the monk from Holy Mountain to Mr. Fyodor Karp Ivanovich Radovatisd” - 6. sheets 182–182 vol.)
[Philosophy “external” and “internal”]
Turn mentally to the Italian schools and you will see there, like streams flowing and most drowning, the teachings of Aristotle and Plato and their followers.
And no fundamental principle is firmly established among them, neither human nor divine, unless this position is substantiated by an Aristotelian syllogism. If it does not coincide with their idea, then either they reject it as worthless, or, if it seems contrary to their science, they adapt it to Aristotelian teaching and defend it as true. And I will also tell you how the Latins are now departing from the divine law, confused by the philosophy of vain deception, according to the apostle, about the immortality of the soul, about the future enjoyment of the righteous, about the state of the faithful departing from earthly life. In everything they suffer, because they follow more external logical knowledge than internal church and God-given philosophy. Truly there is a good knowledge worthy of external teachings, but only for the development of correct speech, for the sophistication and correction of thinking, and not for the understanding of divine dogmas and reasoning about them.
For they are above every thought and above every contemplation of what exists and what does not exist, by faith they are only visible and knowable, they elude every verbal teaching and fly high, as the very knowledgeable Saint John Chrysostom speaks about in his word on the seraphim, where the vision of the holy prophet Isaiah is interpreted. These are his golden words: what he saw, he said, in what way he kept silent; I accept what is said, but do not probe what is left unspoken. I understand what is revealed, but I don’t search for what is hidden...
We, however, are much further removed from the grace and wisdom bestowed on him from heaven, as well as from his incomparable and angelic life and holiness, carried away by the dust of passions and, in the likeness of dumb animals, given over to vile passions, but with a low sense of external desire for verbal debate, more than philosophy, we have inflamed ourselves. And because of this, some, having risen like wild animals, the robe of the church, woven from the highest theology, are tearing mercilessly with logical violence and sophisms, vainly trying to explain to people the named holy sacraments, which are ineffable and incomprehensible, known only to the one Holy Trinity...
It’s time for the wise Dionysius, nicknamed the Areopagite, to listen to what he commands us about the same thing - how it is allowed to experience the divine hypostases; for he says: let us be held by God through the divine scripture of what is indicated, since every good gift and every perfect gift comes from above from the Father of light, and all the emanations of light from the Father come to us with grace, until again the connecting force turns them to the unity of the Father of the Gatherer and his God-seen simplicity, for everything is from him and into him, as the Holy Scripture says.
(From the essay “The Word in Latin, as there is no flight to add anything or subtract from the divine confession of the immaculate Yaristian faith.” - 6, l. 86–89)
The city of Paris is famous and populous in Gaul, now called France, a great, glorious power abounding in countless blessings. The first and most important of these is that the philosophical and theological principles should be taught free of charge to all who are zealous in these excellent teachings. Mentors in these sciences are given a significant annual payment from the royal treasury thanks to the great generosity of the ruler there and his passion for verbal sciences. Here you will find any science: not only our pious theology and sacred philosophy, but also external institutions, various teachings achieve their perfection from those who teach them, of whom there are a great many, as I have heard from some. From everywhere, from all Western and Northern countries, those striving for verbal sciences gather in the said great city of Paris, not only the sons of ordinary people, but also from the highest royal, boyar, and princely rank: some have sons, some have brothers, some have grandchildren and other relatives.
Each of them, having spent a sufficient time in learning, returns to his own country, filled with all wisdom and understanding. And such one serves as an adornment and praise to his fatherland, as a good adviser and a skilled servant and a quick assistant in everything that is required.
Those who boast of nobility and abundance of wealth in our country should be like this to their fatherland. Instructed and enlightened by the sacred teaching of the verbal sciences, they could not only overcome their own unpraiseworthy passions, not worry about external adornment, like wives, and protect themselves from the love of money and all covetousness, but also force others to imitate them as lovers of a genuine, godly life.
(From the essay “The Terrible and Memorable Tale of the Innocent Monks’ Residence.” – 5, l. 225–226)
The priesthood and the kingdom are two of the greatest blessings, bestowed on people from the highest divine kindness: one, through the prayers of the saints and their pure hands, always prays to the ruler of all for our sins, making him merciful and reconcilable to us; the other, with wise advice, all sorts of instructions and observations, imperiously and at the same time fatherly cares for his subjects, always directs the royal scepter for the better.
(From the message to Ivan the Terrible “The chapters are instructive for those in command of the faithful.” - 3, l. 267 vol. - 268)
Although it is said that the human mind is created in the image and likeness of God, in reality it is no different from wax and paper. Just as on these, whoever wants, writes such letters, so the human mind: whatever customs and teachings you accustom it to, either good or evil, remains in those same ones to the end and willingly accepts them.
Soul. My dear mind! I am now having a constant conversation with you. It seems very amazing to me how you, being like a certain ruler appointed by your creator, control all my vital forces and the most extreme parts of the body, like a just ruler of a strong city. From there, like some skilled pilot, you direct your entire body with the movement of your thoughts. But just as a charioteer, thrown over by wild horses, is deprived of victory, and often of life itself, so you, too, are often possessed by a darkening passion, or destructive envy, or anger, or sorrow, and are immediately greatly embarrassed and deeply saddened, and then you philosophize and talk shamefully about everything. In short, it’s as if you don’t recognize everyone then: your family, your friends, and those closest to you. Why not say more? Then you emit lawless blasphemy against the only most good one...
Mind. […] Hear the most important thing from what has been said, O soul, and try to accomplish this without laziness. As previously said, oblivion and misunderstanding of the true highest good brings a lot of impurity of passions into us, and covers us with innumerable evil, and presents us as equal to animals. On the contrary, frequent remembrance and intense reflection, heartfelt burning and unceasing love for that sacred and passionate desire for divine praise, which is above every word, are sufficient not only to grant us a perfect unshakable and meek disposition, but also to Himself reigning in the highest to strengthen us, securely saved, and to show us as heirs of the earth on which the feet of the meek stand, rejoicing in the divine light.
(From the dialogue “Conversation between the soul and the mind on a question and answer about where passions come from in them, about divine providence and about astrologers.” - 3, A. 151 vol. - 152, 162)
(Mind). Let us recognize, O soul, our glory and not mindlessly liken ourselves to dumb animals. The end is not the same for us and for them, soul, just as our appearance is not the same. After all, it is their nature to always bend down and constantly fill their wombs with the growths of the earth; For us, O soul, the very appearance of a straight body was beautifully created by a wise artist. I will keep silent about the other god-like beauties with which you are most magnificently adorned, for they sufficiently convince us to believe that heaven is our fatherland, and to be proud that we have the Most High as our father. In the name of this, we will always strive for the heavenly world, where our father and our abode are located...
Do not thoughtlessly, O soul, prefer the corruptible to the eternally abiding heavenly blessings, so that what was said by Homer Meonides, who says: a foolish person then comes to his senses when he gets into trouble and can no longer help himself, will happen to you...
Let us not be foolishly seduced, O soul, by the vain philosophies of carnal lovers, but let us have a strong desire for a dispassionate life, holding on to a chaste and worthy disposition. A mirror covered with thick rust does not reflect sunlight in any way, and the soul, obeying vile carnal passions, does not accept the rays of imperishable light...
So rather, O soul, let us know ourselves and worthy of our destiny and reflect, without plunging ourselves into sleep and laziness, as if we were sailing on a serene voyage. You are called by the Highest to suffer and to exploits, to fight against invisible enemies, and, by you, we deserve honor or, on the contrary, punishment according to your courage or defeat.
(From the dialogue “Words are useful to those who pay close attention to them, the mind speaks to its soul, and in the same way for wealth.” - 3, l, 173–176 vol.)
And the star is useful as God’s creation, and the creator of hatred for the truth is in it. did not invest, because he is good and the creator of all good, and not evil. After all, we know many in the past and now we see many who, having truly become enlightened, have learned the falsity of following stellar predictions; this would not have happened if they had obeyed the compulsion of the stars. From this it is clear that man was created in the image of God, autocratically existing and with free will. If he turns his thoughts to him, then no one will easily tear him away from his chosen one until he retreats again of his own free will, bringing upon himself condemnation by ignorance of good...
Neither Socrates, nor Plato, nor Aristotle, who seem to be the most worthy and truth-loving Hellenic philosophers, ever inclined to deceptive fortune telling by the stars, which is clearly evident from their works. Therefore, as can be seen, Aristotle, having realized this deception, which is in vain considered by the above-mentioned science, considered it shameful and false, saying somewhere in his writings about future existence: this is not the final truth and there is neither foresight nor science about it.
(From the essay “A Word Against Those Who Eagerly Predict Through Stargazing About the Future and About Human Autocracy.” – 6, l. 162–164)
[Grammar as a precursor to philosophy]
Grammar is... a very skillful teaching among the Hellenes, for it is the beginning of the comprehension of philosophy and therefore it is impossible to understand its meaning in small words and in a short time, but it is proper to sit with an excellent teacher for a whole year, withdrawing from all everyday worries and sorrows, always loving sobriety and abstaining from all rest, and gluttony, and sleep, and drinking wine. And that teaching We, the Greeks, are very skillful, not like you, since we have long had great and wise philosophers who created for themselves a very sophisticated speech and embellished with expressions that are difficult to understand even for us, the Greeks.
Therefore, we, the Greeks, demand that we remain for a long time with a skilled teacher and study with great difficulty and beatings until we comprehend with our minds.
(From a short essay on grammar without a title. – 5, l. 132–132 vol.)
[Image of Sophia the Wisdom]
The human face has a fiery face, for divine fire incinerates corruptible passions, but enlightens the pure soul. Above the ears she has earrings, which angels also have, for she is like the angels in her pure life; Toroki is the seat of the holy spirit. On her head is a royal crown, for humble wisdom rules over passions. And what is girded in the belt is a sign of eldership. She holds a scepter in her hand, which signifies her royal rank. It also has eagle wings of fire, which signifies sublime prophecy and quick thought. A very perspicacious bird, the eagle, loves wisdom - when it sees a catcher, it flies higher, and so those who love chastity are undetectable to the devil's catcher. In his left hand he holds a scroll in which unknown hidden secrets are inscribed, for the Scripture says: the divine mysteries are incomprehensible neither by angels nor by people. The throne on which she sits, illuminated with light, signifies the presence of the future age, as it is written in the prophecy of Isaiah: she was established with seven pillars - seven spiritual gifts.
My feet are set on a rock, for Christ said: on this rock I will build my church; and one more thing: the seal of unharmed virginity will be established on the stone of faith.
(From the work attributed to Maximus the Greek, which in this manuscript bears the title “St. Maximus the Greek, the famous legend about the image of Saint Sothea, the Wisdom of God.” - 119, l. 85–87 vol.)
The philosopher Plato said: truly, God is good and is the cause of everything good, but is not involved in evil. The same philosopher in “The Law” shows us the creator of everything, calling everyone inseparably ruler, for God is the beginning and the end and the middle. He carries out just judgment on everyone, an avenger who breaks the divine law. Holding on to him, those who want to be pious follow him, adorned with humility and meekness. If someone exalts himself from praise or puts his trust in wealth or noble ranks and bodily blessings, then, like immature and insane people, he burns with shame, for he does not recognize either a mentor or a teacher, but considers himself capable of instructing others - this one will be abandoned by God. The one left behind and united with others like him goes berserk and sweeps away everything along with them. And one of the nobles appeared to many, who then suffered God’s judgment: he destroyed himself, his house, and the city - all together.
Interpretation. By this, the philosopher showed God ruling over everything, and his long-suffering shown towards some, and from him the destruction that comes to madmen, and the destruction that occurs on the battlefield. The same philosopher, in a book called “Gorgias,” reveals the cause of torment, saying this: it is fitting for anyone suffering from something else to either become better himself and not use anything similar, or be an example to others - let them, seeing the torment of those suffering and being afraid, be better. Thus, those who sin with curable sins receive benefit, for they endure suffering from God and people, since they benefit from illnesses and sorrows both here and in hell: there is no other way to deviate from untruth. But those who sin greatly and because of such sins are in no way incurable - there are indications and examples of them - these do not receive any benefit, because they are incurable. Others, who see those who are ill and bitterly suffering due to their great iniquities, receive benefit.
Interpretation. This appears to be taken from divine Scripture. Moses, on behalf of God, said this to Pharaoh: for this reason I have exalted you, to show my strength through you - so that my name may be glorified throughout the whole earth. When he became treacherous, God punished him with all sorts of executions, not so that he would become better, for he knew both the cruelty of his mind and his incurable passion, but through him, as it were, to tell everyone: let there be examples of correction and benefit. Likewise, cities maintain executioners not because they are happy with their cruelty, but for the sake of their service.
The same philosopher, in a book called Phaedo, reports on the future state of souls among sinners and among the righteous. The foul and unclean one will go to hell and be cast into the vile mud, but the completely purified by God's law will dwell with God. And again about the one whose past life was righteous and reverent: it is fitting to believe that he will settle on the islands of the blessed in complete peace and coolness without any sorrow and sadness. And the one who lived godlessly and unrighteously will be thrown into the prison of condemnation, called Tartarus. I learned this from the Egyptians. He says that the free soul is also the mistress of the passions; and if you control yourself, then in overcoming everyone this is the first and most important victory, and the most shameful and evil thing is if you are defeated by your nature.
* Sources containing works by Maxim the Greek are marked with an asterisk.
1. Marx K., Engels F. Works. Ed. 2nd.
2. Lenin V.I. Complete works. Ed. 5th.
3. Maxim the Greek's works (Joasaph collection). Manuscript ser. XVI century State Library of the USSR named after. V. I. Lenin (GBL), f. 173, MDA Fund. 42.
4. Maxim the Greek's works (Khludov collection). Manuscript of 1563, State Historical Museum (GIM), Khlud. 73.
5. Maxim the Greek's works (Rumyantsev collection). Manuscript ser. XVI century GBL, f. 256, Rumyants. 264.
6. Works by Maxim the Greek. Manuscript ser. XVI century GBL, f. 113, Volokolam. 488.
7. Maxim the Greek's works (Solovetsky collection). Manuscript con. XVI century State Public Library named after. M. E. Saltykova - Shchedrin (GPB), Solov. 494/513.
8. Works by Maxim the Greek. Manuscript 1660 GPB, Solov. 495/514.
9 . Maxim the Greek's works (Trinity Collection). 17th century manuscript GBL, f. 304, Trinity. 200.
10. Maxim the Greek's works (Pomeranian collection). Manuscript first Thursday XIX century State Historical Museum, Khlud. 74.
11. Maxim the Greek's works (Bolshakovo collection). Manuscript 1862 State Historical Museum, Khlud. 75.
12. Explanatory Psalter (translation by Maxim the Greek). Manuscript con. XVI century State Historical Museum, Synod. 71/156.
13. Maxim Grek. A conversation about the benefits of grammar. M., 1782.
14. Maxim Grek. Essays. Parts 1–3. Kazan, 1859–1862.
15. Maxim Grek. Works in Russian translation. Parts 1–3. Trinity - Sergius Lavra, 1910–1911.
16. Abramson M. L. From Dante to Alberti. M., 1979,
17. Augustine of Hippo. Confession. Per. from lat. M., 1914.
18. Averintsev S.S. Towards an understanding of the meaning of the inscription above the conch of the central apse of St. Sophia of Kyiv. – Old Russian art. Artistic culture of pre-Mongol Rus'. M., 1972.
19. Averintsev S.S. Poetics of early Byzantine literature. M., 1977.
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