Fr. Alexander Schmemann:

Liberal or Conservative?

STEVEN ROBERTS

“Christianity is freedom from conservatism and from revolution. Hence a “rightist” Christian is as frightening as a “leftist” one, and I know why I sway to the left when dealing with the rightists and to the right when I am dealing with leftists.”

- Fr. Alexander Schmemann

I remember first reading the writings of Fr. Alexander Schmemann toward the end of college. Schmemann was presented to me, by my priest at the time, as someone who critiqued traditionalism and fundamentalism and was essentially a “liberal," with all the theological and political tendencies that term implied. I was surprised at this, since I had known about Schmemann growing up, and had known many “conservatives'' who loved and revered him. After actually reading his work, in particular his journals, I found a lot to back up the description of Schmemann as a “liberal,” but I also found much that made him a “conservative” by today's standards, and much more that did not fit into “conservative” or “liberal” categories. He himself wrote in a 1973 journal entry that “he could not accept either position, neither Right nor Left.” How do we then make sense of his views? How did he bypass this divide?

The main reason Schmemann doesn't fit in either camp is that his concern was largely to bring about more awareness of the liturgy, and especially the Eucharist, as the breaking-in of the Kingdom of God at the center of the Christian’s life. In Schmemann’s era, the norm was infrequent communion, music that obscured the text of the liturgy, and a lack of participation in the services by the laity. There was also a spirit of individualism that dominated sacramental life, in which baptism and the Eucharist were seen primarily as matters of an individual’s personal piety, rather than community endeavors. Schmemann, throughout his career, railed against these trends.

Issues of liturgical reform and lay participation were part of the zeitgeist raised by the “liberals” of Schmemann’s time, especially among Roman Catholics and Protestants, and so it can be tempting to see his work as simply a reflection of his era. However, Schmemann consciously distanced himself from the radical liturgical reformers of his day, who were often interested in making the Liturgy “relevant," with measures such as writing new liturgies and anaphoras to fit contemporary trends. In contrast to this, Schmemann was more interested in giving access to what was already there within the services, which was either obscured by language or seen as exclusively belonging to the clergy. Seen in this way, his revival was very “conservative," given that it wasn’t adding anything “new," but was rather a return to the true purpose of the liturgy, as a source of encounter and change for all people. Much more revival than change. 

This model poses a timely challenge to both liberals and conservatives. Looking to his example, “conservatives” in our parishes may have to learn that some of their most beloved customs are not entirely consistent with the theology of the church, and may be merely historical accumulation or even a deviation from the authentic tradition of the Church. Another takeaway is that as Christians, we have to be involved in contemporary discussions, much like Schmemann was with regard to liturgical reform. Liberals, meanwhile, who have a natural desire to see elements of the Church change and evolve, sometimes need a reminder that any changes should only be made on the basis of our tradition.

Schmemann also cuts through the liberal and conservative divide in the social and political realms. He grounds his views in an understanding of the world as a place where the Kingdom of God, or God’s presence, is constantly being encountered. On this basis, he firmly rejects secularism, which he defines as a way of dividing the world into the “sacred” and “profane" categories which essentially deny the saving work of the Incarnation as the joining of the divine and human.

In one entry, Schmemann wrote that he was “infuriated” by the “huge bankruptcy of the ‘Right.” He faulted the political right for its attachment to consumerism and capitalism, which were responsible, he thought, for the “stifling boredom” and moral “baseness” of the modern world. What, after all, is more at odds with Christianity than unfettered capitalism, or the notion that life and society should be directed primarily towards material gain? This is the exact opposite of the Gospel, which reminds us that “life is more than food, and the body more than clothes.” (Luke 12:23) Yet for many “conservatives,'' Christianity and consumerism are seen as compatible and mutually enhancing. 

Another critique of right-wing Christianity is seen in Schmemann’s criticism of Alexander Solzhenitsyn, who he described as childish, oversimplified, and a nationalist. Schmemann also observed that Solzhenitsyn was obsessed with Russia, and that this undergirded his entire worldview. His own views were much different. “Russia could disappear, die,” he wrote, “and nothing would change in my fundamental vision of the world.” What would Schmemann say to today’s Christian nationalists? There is certainly a place for loving one’s country and desiring that just laws prevail, but are we holding up American conservatism as our fundamental worldview, or do we base our love for our country on our faith in Christ? Further, with many conservatives, there is a tendency to live in the past and to harbor disdain for contemporary society. For Schmemann, by contrast, Christ died for the life of the world—for this world, with TikTok and iPhones and Starbucks—and our goal as Christians is to find Christ within all of this in some way. 

Schmemann makes similar critiques of the left. He states that American liberals often have a “cheap self-identification with suffering people” and a “cheap cult” of “the Indians, of any minority.” We can imagine here many liberals who post on social media about their concern for the marginalized, but have never actually volunteered time or donated money to those suffering. There is also a tendency, for some liberals, to be concerned only with an abstract “humanity,” or a “poor” who are always “somewhere out there.” And much like “conservatives,” living in a future which is never quite here, which is never concrete. While not denying the value of societal reform or action, Schmemann places primary importance on the individual person, the person who comes to us at each moment of the day. This is the person we may not like, who seems to be in our way, and may be on the opposite side of the political spectrum, who we are called to love. Schmemann prioritizes self-criticism and openness to new ideas. He would have us recognize that there may be aspects of the “right” that are accurate and aspects of the “left” that go too far. He’d have us keep the authentic Gospel always in our sight.

For us today then, an insight into how to heal our growing divisions can be found in Schmemann’s theology. What if, instead of using labels like “liberal’ and “conservative," when we may have no idea what they actually even mean, we spoke about all things in reference to Christ and his Kingdom, and allowed others to label us as either liberals or conservatives? What if we learned to listen, even to that person who we think is absolutely wrong, and had enough humility to be open to the world around us? What if we deepened our faith through reading Scripture and the Fathers, and attending services, rather than parroting phrases given to us by conservative talk radio or Twitter? Maybe this is idealistic and overly ambitious, but it is what our broken world needs.

Steven Roberts is a recent graduate of Saint Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary. He is a youth director at Saint Justin Martyr Orthodox Church in Jacksonville, Florida.