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Abstract
This article introduces Mircea Eliade. His biography and his understanding of religion are
outlined and the possibly formative influence of Eastern Orthodoxy is considered, as are
recent publications on the issue. His early essays present Orthodoxy as a mystical religion in
which, without some experience of the sacred, profane existence is seen as meaningless and
he later identified this same basic schema in all religion. Orthodox theologians Vladimir
Lossky and Dumitru Stniloae are inspected for similarities to Eliade. Ten consonances
between Eliades thought and Orthodox theology are considered. However, dissonances are
also noted, and for every potential Orthodox source of Eliades theories there is another
equally credible source, causing a controversy over the formative influences of his Romanian
youth as opposed to his later Indian experience. It is suggested that Eliade gained insight
from Orthodoxy, but that this was brought to consciousness by his sojourn in India. Theology
in the form of categorical propositions is present in the Eastern Church but exists alongside
other equally important expressions in the visual, dramatic, and narrative arts. The Eastern
Church as a multi-media performative theater prepared Eliade to apprehend religion as
inducing perceptions of the really realcreative poesis exercising a practical influence on
its audiences cognitions. Orthodoxy is a tradition in which categorical propositions had
never come to dominate the expression of the sacred, and Eliade wrote from a vantage point
on the border, not only between East and West, but also between the scholar and the artist.
Keywords
Mircea Eliade; Eastern Orthodoxy; Vladimir Lossky; Dumitru Stniloae; Nae Ionescu; the
Legion of the Archangel Michael; the sacred
DOI 10.1163/18763316-04002007
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Kassimbazar to study in India for four years. In 1928 he sailed for Calcutta to
study Sanskrit and philosophy under Surendranath Dasgupta (1885-1952), a
Cambridgeeducated Bengali, professor at the University of Calcutta, and
author of a five-volume History of Indian Philosophy.
Eliade returned to Bucharest in December, 1931 and successfully submitted his analysis of yoga as his doctoral thesis in the philosophy department
in 1933. This eventually became Yoga, Immortality and Freedom.2 From 1933
to 1939 he was active with the Criterion group, a collection of scholars
and intellectuals in Bucharest who gave public seminars on wide-ranging
topics. They were strongly influenced by the philosophy of trirism; the
search for the authentic in and through lived experience. In 1933 Eliade
also published his second novel Maitreyi, which was to secure his reputation in Romania as a major novelist.3
After the Second World War, during which Eliade served with the
Romanian Legation in England and Portugal, he was unable to return to
communist Romania because of his earlier connection with the political
right. In 1945 he moved to Paris where Georges Dumzil (1898-1986), an
important scholar of comparative mythology, secured a part-time post for
him at the cole pratique des hautes tudes at the Sorbonne, teaching
comparative religion. The German Joachim Wach (1898-1955), then chair of
the History of Religions at the University of Chicago, was prompted by his
students, with whom Eliades work was very popular, to invite Eliade to give
the Haskell Lectures in 1956. After Wachs unexpected death, Eliade
assumed the chair in Chicago in 1958 and stayed there until his own death,
publishing extensively and continuing to write fiction in Romanian. Mircea
Eliade was not a guru, however, despite the fondness that publishers and
admirers have for the 1930 image of him clad in a dhoti. He was no sage but
rather a very successful scholar.
Eliades presence in the English-speaking academy has diminished since
his death in 1986. Use of his work in graduate courses has declined and
there has been no repetition of the conferences on his thought such
as those held in the 1970s and 1980s, although there were several
conferencesnotably in Bucharest and in Chicagoin his centennial
2)Mircea Eliade, Yoga, Immortality, and Freedom (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1958).
3)Mircea Eliade, Maitreyi (Bucharest: Editura Cultura Nationala, 1933); translated from the
Romanian by Alain Guillermou as La Nuit Bengali (Lausanne: Gallimard, 1950); translated
from the French by Catherine Spencer as Bengal Nights (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1994).
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year, 2007. It is still not widely known by the Englishspeaking public that
Eliade was a prolific and successful writer of fiction. Only an irregular sampling of that fiction is available in English, although that is beginning to
change to some degree now that movies have been made of his novel
Maitreyi (La Nuit Bengali, Nicolas Klotz, 1988) and his short story, Tineree
fr Tineree, filmed by Francis Ford Coppola (Youth without Youth, 2007).
I have described Eliades academic analysis of religion at some length
elsewhere.4 He distinguishes between religious and non-religious humanity on the basis of the perception of time (apparently derived from Henri
Bergsons Time and Free Will).5 Eliade contends that the perception of time
as a homogenous, linear, and unrepeatable medium is a peculiarity of
modern and non-religious humanity. Archaic or religious humanity (homo
religiosus), by comparison, perceives time as heterogeneous; that is, as
divided between mundane time, which is linear and unrepeatable, and
sacred time, which is reactualizable by virtue of its eternal presence. By
means of myths and rituals which give access to this sacred time religious
humanity protects itself against the terror of history, a potential existential anxiety and helplessness before the absolute and irresistible factuality
of historical time. Eliade undermines this distinction, however, by insisting
that non-religious humanity in any pure sense is a very rare phenomenon
if it exists at all. Myth and illud tempus (the eternally present sacred time)
are still to be apprehended, albeit concealed, in the world of modern
humanity, and the attempt to restrict all real time to linear historical time
he sees as finally self-contradictory.
Eliades concept of the sacred has been the subject of considerable
contention. He identifies the sacred with the real but also clearly states that
the sacred is a structure of human consciousness. This implies the subjectivity of both the sacred and of reality. Yet the sacred is identified as the
source of significance, meaning, power and being, and manifestations of
the sacred in lived experience are what he calls hierophanies, cratophanies,
or ontophanies accordingly. Eliade states that believers must be prepared
by their experience, including their traditional religious background, before
they can apprehend the revelation of the sacred. To others a sacred tree,
4)Bryan Rennie, Reconstructing Eliade: Making Sense of Religion (Albany, NY: State
University of New York Press, 1996) and Bryan Rennie, ed., Mircea Eliade: A Critical Reader
(London: Equinox Publishing, 2006).
5)Henri Bergson, Time and Free Will: An Essay on the Immediate Data of Consciousness
(New York: Macmillan, 1910).
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for example, remains simply a tree. Humanity seeks to live in as close proximity to the sacred as possible. However, it is an indispensable element of
Eliades analysis that while any phenomenal entity could be apprehended
as a hierophany or revelation of the sacred, all beings reveal, but at the same
time conceal, the nature of the sacred. The fact is that the sacred can only be
experienced in mundane, material instantiations, which camouflages it
even as it is revealed, and this gives rise to the insight that the sacred exists
beyond all polarities and is often expressed in the form of a coincientia
oppositorum. Religion is seen as a unifying human universal involving these
experiences.
Beyond the scholarly debate over the academic value of this analysis,
a wealth of biographical material has become available, the implications
of which have also been argued. Romanian and other archives have
been investigated in detail, and several biographies have appeared (mainly
French), raising new questions. In the late 1980s the works of Ivan Strenski,
Adriana Berger, and Leon Volovici raised one specific question: had
Eliade been a supporter of the Legion of the Archangel Michael, a militant
Romanian Orthodox nationalist organization also known as the Iron
Guard?6 This organization was violently anti-Semitic. Had Eliade been, and
did he remain, anti-Semitic himself?
I cannot digress into a detailed consideration of this questionsuffice it
to say that even given newly available information there remains significant doubt that Eliade ever was virulently anti-Semitic, although between
January 1937 and February 1938 he did write more than a dozen articles in
support of the Legion. Eliade thought creators of culture to be a countrys
most potent forcethe most effective nationalists, thanks to whom a
nation conquers eternity7 and he saw the Legions religious appeal as a
means of popularizing, by appealing to deep traditional roots, the type of
cultural creativity that he had previously attributed to the intellectual and
writer. While some have suspected Eliade of joining a Legionary nest, no
definitive proof has ever emerged. His writings express no obvious antiSemitism. He was appointed to the Press Services section of the Romanian
6)Ivan Strenski, Mircea Eliade in Four Theories of Myth in Twentieth Century History
(London: Macmillan, 1989); Adriana Berger, Fascism and Religion in Romania, The Annals
of Scholarship 6, no. 4 (1989): 455-465; Leon Volovici, Nationalist Ideology and Antisemitism:
The Case of Romanian Intellectuals in the 30s (New York: Pergamon, 1991).
7)Mircea Eliade, Romnia n eternitate in Profetism romnesc 2 (Bucharest: Editura Roza
Vnturilor,1990), originally published in Vremea VIII no. 409 (1935): 6.
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and ideas which have no meaning in themselves. Eliade portrays the theosis
of the Eastern Church as both thirst and practical program for the
attainment of immortality and freedom from material determinism.
It transcends the humiliating psycho-physical causality of existence.12 He
later identified the same schema in Hindu yoga and even in all religion.
At least ten such parallels or homologies can be identified between
Eliades thought and Orthodox theology: (1) the accepted irrationalism of
ritual and Eliades emphasis upon the transrational; (2) the emphasis
of both on lived experience as the source of religious belief; (3) the critique
of desacralization or secularism; (4) the hierophany or experiential
instantiation of the sacredespecially in the icon; (5) the coincidence of
opposites as an accurate expression of that sacred; (6) the related simultaneous revelation and camouflage of the sacred; (7) Orthodox synthesis
and Eliades eclectic understanding; (8) the universal humanism of the
experience of the sacred; (9) the transcendence of the incarnate human
condition as the goal of religious effort; and (10) the poesis of the Eastern
Church, the creative artistry by which a parable or icon conveys its point
more forcefully than any verbal description, resonates strongly with Eliades
own creative hermeneutics.
Early claims regarding Eliades debt to Eastern Orthodox theology were
made by the Chicago theologian, T. J. J. Altizer in 1963. Altizer believed that
we must take account of Eliades roots in Eastern Christendom one can
sense in Eliade the Eastern Christians hostility to the rational spirit of
Western theology.13 There is a clear homology between the irrationalism of
ritual experience and Eliades emphasis upon the transrational and transhistorical. Dumitru Stniloae explains that the mystical union with God is
not irrational, but suprarational,14 but he further specifies that a rationalist philosophy weakens, for example, the mystery of the Trinity.15 Eliade
insists that one must not think that theoretical coherence is necessarily
the result of systematic reflection; it already asserts itself at the level of the
image and the symbol, it is an integral part of mythic thought.16 Stniloae
12)Quoted in Ricketts, Romanian Roots, 268.
13)T. J. J. Altizer, Mircea Eliade and the Dialectics of the Sacred (Philadelphia: Westminster
Press, 1963), 37.
14)Dumitru Stniloae, Orthodox Spirituality: A Practical Guide for the Faithful and a Definitive
Manual for the Scholar, trans. Archimandrite Jerome (Newville) and Otilia Kloos, foreword
by Alexander Golubov (South Canaan, PA: St. Tikhons Seminary Press, 2002), 28.
15)Stniloae, Orthodox Spirituality, 46.
16)Mircea Eliade, The Two and the One (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1965), 89, n. 1.
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Vladimir Lossky further reinforces the homology between Eliades hierophany and Orthodox theology: Since the Word has incarnated Himself, the
word can be thought and taughtand in the same way the Word can be
painted.28 The similarity with Eliades notion of hierophanythat the
sacred must first be manifest in some concrete, physical form accessible to
human experience (which simultaneously camouflages it in profane form),
before it can be thought, taught, apprehended, and appreciated is evident.
Lossky also uses the language of coincidentia-oppositorum to express
himself: The living God must be evoked beyond the opposition of being
and non-being, beyond all concepts.29 Furthermore, knowledge of divine
nature is achieved and canceled out simultaneously in the impersonality of
unknowing.30 The language is inescapably reminiscent of Eliades understanding of the coincidentia-oppositorum, even more so of his perennial
theme of simultaneous revelation and camouflage.
In Eliades eclectically focused gift for synthesis Paus again sees the
pronounced influence of the Eastern Church. Regarding eclecticism,
Stniloae argues that Patristic tradition informs us that the Fathers did not
hesitate to appropriate terminology from the pagan world and to imbue
it with Orthodox meaning,31 and Eliade follows that pattern.
A further homology appears in the form of human universalism. Lossky
is in the tradition of the Cappadocian fathers, Dionysius the Areopagite,
and Meister Eckhart, a tradition which speaks to the human condition
here and now, shared universally. Only one nature exists, common to all
men, although it appears to us fragmented by sin, parceled out among
many persons men possess a single common nature.32 There is a resonance here with Eliades insistence on the ubiquity of religion and his
desire to de-provincialize the West by drawing from Eastern (specifically
Hindu) philosophy, as we have seen.
There is further apparent similarity between Eliades understanding of
freedom as the goal of all religious effort and the Orthodox concept of freedom. For the Fathers personhood is freedom in relation to nature: it
eludes all conditioning Personal uniqueness is what remains when one
takes away all cosmic context, says Lossky. And again: human personal
28)Lossky, Orthodox Theology, 13.
29)Lossky, Orthodox Theology, 23.
30)Lossky, Orthodox Theology, 28.
31)Stniloae, Orthodox Spirituality, 2 n. 2.
32)Lossky, Orthodox Theology, 125.
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dignity consists in being able to liberate himself from his nature.33 That
God has become man that man might become God is attributed to
Irenaeus, but is also in Athanasius, and is common among later Orthodox
theologians. We must become partakers of the divine nature, says
Lossky.34 Freedom, for Eliade also, was this kind of freedom from causal
determination by participation in the sacred. Eliades immortality and
freedom from Yoga, Immortality, and Freedom closely assimilates to this
deification.
Finally, the poesis or narrative logic of the Eastern Church is powerful:
a logic proper to the story told with no particular compulsion or power
beyond that narrative. This seems to be the kind of logic that Eliade apprehended in all systems of symbols and myths.35 The self-authenticating
logic of all myths stands only within its own theological circle despite its
rhetorical appeal. For example, Lossky states that the Trinity is the initial
mystery, the Holy of Holies of the divine reality, the very life of the hidden
God. Only poetry can evoke it, precisely because it celebrates and does not
pretend to explain.36 Similarly, Eliade styled his whole approach creative
hermeneutics,37 a poetic hermeneutics, an interpretation necessitating
literary or narrative creativity. But it is an entechnos poesis, a skilled creativity, no less truth-full for its poetic component. This understanding of the
non-scientific, creative, poetic utterance informs all of Eliades work.
As well as these homologies, however, there are equally apparent dissonances. For example, God is determined by nothing and that is precisely
why He is personal, says Lossky. The universal Christian emphasis on
the personal nature of God is something entirely foreign to Eliade, who
explicitly states his own inability to believe in such a God.38 Eliade may
be influenced by the Orthodox Church but he does not stand inside its
theological circle. Even Altizer recognized that in Mircea Eliade, Christian
33)Lossky, Orthodox Theology, 72.
34)Lossky, Orthodox Theology, 92, quoting II Peter 1:4.
35)Eliade, The Two and the One, 1, n. 1, above n. 16.
36)Lossky, Orthodox Theology, 46.
37)Mircea Eliade, The Quest: History and Meaning in Religion (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1969), 4.
38)Eliade himself apparently felt this inability to believe, describing himself as a Christian
who could not believe in God (in Ricketts, Romanian Roots, 123). He also thought the modern Western intellectual to have killed a God in whom he could not believe (Occultism,
Witchcraft, and Cultural Fashions: Essays in Comparative Religions (Chicago: Chicago
University Press, 1976), 5.
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Webster concluded with the observation that One need only allow for
the primarily historical instead of mythical basis of Orthodox liturgical
mysticism before adopting Eliades approach to religion in its entirety!43
and this is a very significant distinction from Eliade, who polemicized
vigorously against such historicism throughout his work. According to
Webster,
Eliade seems to have employed a metaphysical agnosticism in his writings, but the
logical structure of the sacred as he elucidated it leaves room for someone with more
metaphysical certitude to objectify the real as the numen or God and he showed
less concern for the nature of that sacred reality than for the attitudes and the behavior
of the people who believe in it.44
This focus by Eliade on the behavior of the people who believe in the sacred,
rather than on the sacred per se, is apparent to Webster, who has studied
Eliade carefully from the point of view of someone who is committed to a
theological stance. Furthermore, the very source used by Paus in affirming
Eliades dependence on Byzantine icon theory, that is, Eliades passage on
the veneration of the lingam by tribal peasant women, affirms Eliades
respect for the potential of the Hindu tradition. Ricketts comments that,
while in India, Eliade, seeing how the lingam could evoke religious sentiments on the part of women and girls in India, was able to understand
the veneration of icons in Orthodox churchessomething he had regarded
previously as idolatry.45 The point here is that, despite his earlier emphatic
support of the Eastern Church Eliade had not sympathized until now with
one of its most cherished traditionsthe veneration of icons. It seems to
be Eliades understanding of Hindu veneration that enabled his understanding of his own Orthodox tradition. This seems at least to moderate
Pauss strong position on the influence of Orthodox icontheology. There
may be a christological foundation in the Incarnation, but the Hindu notion
of avatars and murtis and even the Islamic attitude to the Quran as Allah
inliberate or manifest in book form, argues for a more widespread operation of this phenomenon. Thus, when Paus concludes that Eliade suggested
that the Byzantine doctrine of icons, in its fusion with the outlook on life of
the Romanian husbandman, reflected the state of consciousness of archaic
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man, he (Paus) both goes beyond the textual sources (Eliade nowhere
actually says this) and ignores alternative, non-Christian sources, which
Eliade specifically considers. Paus cannot establish that this theology is
purely and simply Byzantine. Thus he goes too far in claiming that Eliades
creative hermeneutics is developed under the control of a special theological a priori.46
It seems to be the case that for every potential Eastern Orthodox source
of Eliades theories there is another equally credible source. For example,
Eliades emphasis on experience as the source of salvific understanding
could come from the mystical theology of the Eastern Church, but it is also
found in the work of the Protestant Italian historian of religions, Vittorio
Macchioro (b. 1880), whom Eliade admired, read, and met in 1927. Perhaps
the one defining feature of Orthodox theology is the deference to and
respect for the specific tradition that bridges the gulf of human ignorance
and this seems to be the one feature that Eliade decisively rejected as the
modern artist rejected prior tradition in favor of a personal quest that
builds rationally upon individual experience.
A resolution to the controversy between those who believe Eliades
Romanian youth to be the formative influence on his thought and those
who find his Indian experience to be more formative might be suggested.
Eliade gained preconscious insight under the influence of Byzantine
Orthodoxy, but this was brought to consciousness and corroborated by his
Indian experiences, leading to his belief in a universal human structure.
Eliade was certainly influenced by the Eastern Church, but he rejected the
Churchs exclusive claim to truth, and he attempted to construct a universally applicable taxonomy with reference to other cultural traditions. But
besides this attempt to construct an intellectually justifiable and workable
taxonomy and morphology of religious data, Eliade employed a creative
hermeneutic that constitutes a pragmatic narratology.47 The narrative
nature of human representations and explanations of reality, and therefore
of the sacred as Eliade conceived it, is an observation that is becoming
increasingly widespread. To cite Jeppe Sinding Jensens conclusion as a single, recent, and philosophically informed example:
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I have argued at some length elsewhere that Eliade anticipated this narrative turn.49 For example, he believed that a literary work is an instrument
of knowledge. The imaginary universes created in novels, stories, and tales
reveal certain values and meanings unique to the human condition which,
without them, would remain unknown, or, at the very least, imperfectly
understood.50 Eliade made a distinction between his diurnal or scientific work, and his fictional literature as his nocturnal or artistic work
(the German wissenschaftliche would be less misleading than the English
scientific here). However, he also insisted that There is no real resolution
to the continuity between my academic and my literary work, between the
diurnal and the nocturnal reign of the spirit.51 For Eliade there was no
resolution of the continuity between analysis and fiction. He was a writer
of bothand they may not be so far removed one from the other as we
have previously liked to think. That is not to say that Eliades analyses have
no wissenschaftliche value, but that they remain Geisteswissenchaftlich
part of the humanities. Although the influence of Orthodox Christianity
may not have exerted dominance over Eliade in the sense of imposing
dogmatic assumptions about the specific nature of the real/sacred, it
certainly seems to have been his experience of that Church as a multimedia performative theater of the narrative, graphic, and dramatic instantiation of its sacred forms that alerted and sensitized the young Eliade to
the potential of religion as a performance that can pragmatically affect its
audience so as to induce the apprehension of the really real.52 As well as
48)Jeppe Sinding Jensen, The Study of Religion in a New Key (Aarhus: University of Aarhus,
2003), 232.
49)Rennie, Pragmatic Narratology.
50)Mircea Eliade, Journal III: 1970 1978 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989), 283.
51)Il nexiste pas de vritable solution de continuit entre mes ouvrages scientifiques et
mon uvre littraire, entre le rgle diurne de lesprit et son rgle nocturne. Mademoiselle
Christina (Paris: LHerne, 1978), 7.
52)See Bryan Rennie, Mircea Eliade: The Perception of the Sacred in the Profane, Intention,
Reduction, and Cognitive Theory, Temenos: Nordic Journal of Comparative Religion 43 no. 1
(2007): 73-98.
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53)Thomas OMeara, The Aesthetic Dimension in Theology in Art, Creativity and the
Sacred, ed. Diane Apostolos-Cappadona (New York: Continuum, 2001), 206.
54)Stniloae, Orthodox Sprituality, 34.
55)Leo Steinberg, The Seven Functions of the Hands of Christ: Aspects of Leonardos Last
Supper, in Art, Creativity and the Sacred, ed. Diane Apostolos-Cappadona (New York:
Continuum, 2001), 55.
56)OMeara, The Aeasthetic Dimension, 205.
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words.57 Dixon says, systematic thought can occur in languages other than
the verbal,58 which precisely reiterates Eliades insistence that theoretical
coherence asserts itself in the image and the symbol and the myth.59 While
theology in the form of categorical propositions is decisively present in the
Eastern Church, it cohabits that Church alongside other equally important
expressions of theology in the visual, dramatic, and narrative arts. Exposure
to this multi-media environment may well have prepared Eliade to develop
his general understanding of religion as a human universala connection
and not a division between people. Eliades insistence on maintaining
his own artistic output in the form of fiction supports this observation.
His lived experience was of a tradition in which formal categorical verbal
propositions had never come to dominate as the only worthwhile expression of the human experience of the Sacred, and he wrote from his vantage
point on the border, not only between East and West, but also between the
scholar and the artist.
57)Constantine Cavarnos, Orthodox Iconography: Four Essays (Belmont, MA: Institute for
Modern Greek and Byzantine Studies, 1977): 30-35; available from http://www.orthodoxinfo
.com/general/icon_function.aspx.
58)John W. Dixon, Jr., Painting as Theological Thought: The Issues in Tuscan Theology, in
Art, Creativity and the Sacred, ed. Diane Apostolos-Cappadona (New York: Continuum,
2001), 277.
59)Eliade, The Two and the One, 89, n. 1, above n. 16.