A recent novel penned by a Russian Orthodox priest, Ivan Okhlobystin's "Principle 14" (XIV Printsip), made me think about the relationship between literature and the church. It seems the two have never quite gotten along.

Okhlobystin, a former film director once active in Russia's alternative culture scene, turned to religion and was ordained in 2001. His creative side remained, however, and "Principle 14" proves it. The book is a fantasy novel, sloppily written and full of cliches. It has some references to God and faith, but not more than in any work of its kind. Still, it is an interesting case of a Orthodox clergyman trying his hand at fiction. There are very few cases like this in Russian history.

The Western literary tradition has been firmly rooted in Christianity since St. Augustine and Dante. This trend continued into the 20th century, and even the fantasy classics, such as J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings" and C.S. Lewis's "Chronicles of Narnia," were deeply steeped in the Christian ethos. In contrast, new Russian literature has been very much anticlerical since its inception in the 18th century. The young Alexander Pushkin wrote the blatantly blasphemous poem "Gavriiliada," an erotic retelling of the Immaculate Conception. Leo Tolstoy developed his own set of Christian morals, actively denounced the official church and was ultimately excommunicated. In "The Master and Margarita," Mikhail Bulgakov gave an highly unorthodox account of the gospels and put a very likable Devil and his entourage in the center of the plot. Perhaps the only notable exception among the geniuses of Russian literature was Fyodor Dostoevsky, but even his views were far from being officially approved.

Within the church, even writing directed at the general public is a rarity. During the past few decades, however, there has been some progress in this area. In the 1980s, the priest Alexander Men did more for the religious revival of the intelligentsia than anyone else, and he continued to write popular books on faith and the history of religion until his tragic death in 1990. Today, Deacon Andrei Kurayev writes books, publishes articles in newspapers and makes frequent appearances on television. Finally, one of the church's best publicists was Metropolitan Anthony Bloom, the top Russian Orthodox priest of Great Britain and Ireland until his death in 2003. His heartfelt memoirs, full of faith and tolerance, inspired many converts.

Literature is undoubtedly a major identifying force for the Russian nation. Now the Russian Orthodox Church is claiming to be another. Church hierarchs should probably ask themselves why there are so few points of contact between the two.