CHAPTER 11 - Creativity and Morals: The New Ethic of Creativity
The creative New Testament morals of evangelic love have not been revealed in the Christian world—they have only been rarely glimpsed, like lighting flashes, in the lives of such chosen spirits as St. Francis. Christianity was oriented towards the world as a religion of obedience rather than a religion of love.
Christianity, as the revelation of grace, freedom and love, is something other than a set of morals under the law.
Traditional Christian morals are hostile to all heroism, to all heroic upswing of life, to heroic impulse, to heroic sacrifice. Traditional morals of the Christian world are bourgeois in the profoundest sense of the word.
In the patristic, traditionally Christian consciousness, negative virtues—humility, self-denial, abstinence—eclipsed the positive virtues of courage, nobility and honor.
(Christian morality) is impregnated with the pathos of small acts and modest situations; it is afraid of great, heroic, broad-winged action. And the lack of wings has been raised almost to the rank of religious heroism.
This type of morality has no love for the heights; it is hostile to any aristocratic spirit.
Everything which evaluates a man not by his innate qualities but rather by his situation or the milieu in which he lives is bourgeois.
The Christian conquest of “this world” is a conquest of all bourgeoisity; it is the sacrifice of worldly profit and well-being to nobility and beauty as a way of life.
Man cannot live in this world and create new life using only the morality of submission, only the morality of conflict with his own sins. One who lives in constant terror at his own sins is powerless to accomplish anything in the world.
Every man must pass through the redemption and commune with its mystery. The moment of redemption from sin in the life of a man is inevitably connected with obedience and humility, with renunciation of self-assertion, with the sacrifice of spiritual pride.
But it is impossible to construct a whole life-ethic on humility and submission. If they are recognized as the only guides of life, the great moments of humility and submissiveness can easily be turned into slavery, hypocrisy and spiritual death. Spiritual efforts of humility and submission are only movements on the way—the goal is the creation of new life in love.
The moral ideal of the Church Fathers was that of “starchestvo”—the tradition of certain holy elders in the monasteries. It decries youth, it denies the creative impulse and upsurge; it is afraid of youth.
Through the redemption the world will come to a new creative morality of youth in the Spirit of Christ. Christ, the Absolute Man, is eternally young.
The morality of the Gospels is carefree and does not permit of worrying. The care-burdened morality, the morality of worry, is the bourgeois morality of this world. The morals of the elders easily turn into the morals of old age, the morals of constant fear, constant anxiety, constant concern about the troubles of tomorrow, perpetual denial of the divinely care-free birds of the heaven and the lilies of the field.
Creative morality cannot be based upon separating and placing opposite each other the human and the divine. Creative morality will always reveal the seraphic nature of man.
There is a morality of the aristocratic nobility of the spirit and a morality of the serf-like plebeian spirit. Christian morality is not slavishly-plebeian but rather aristocratically-noble, the morality of the sons of God, with their primogeniture, their high birth and their high calling. Christianity is the religion of the strong in spirit, not the weak. The Christian ethic is an ethic of spiritual victory rather than spiritual defeat.
True Christian morality lays on man, who has become a son of God, free responsibility for his own fate and for the fate of the world.
The whole worth of man is in his participation in God and in divine life, in his striving upward.
When man is aided by the God-man Redeemer, this is not some external help, alien to man’s nature, but an inward aid which reveals his own natural likeness to God, his own participation in divine life. Christ is not outside us but within us. He is the Absolute Man in us. He is our communion with the Holy Trinity.
The religion of Christ is the religion of man’s highest powers—it is the very opposite of all weakness or depression in man. Christianity is a way of the revelation in every man of the Man Absolute.
The way of Christian morality leads through sacrifice to creativeness, through renunciation of this world to the creation of a new world and a new life.
Christianity does not permit a lowering of quality for the sake of quantity—it is wholly in quality, i.e. in aristocratic value.
Christian morality is always something of the heights, something which uplifts, rather than a thing of the valley, something which flattens out.
In the world-crisis of morals the longing for moral creativeness is struggling forth, the longing for morals as creativeness rather than obedience. The crisis of moralism, the protest against the law of moral submission, is also a foretaste of a new world-epoch, an epoch of creativeness.
Never yet, in any epoch, has there been born out of canonic morality a new community of men. Like every other law, morality has done more to denounce evil than to create higher truth in life.
Average morality, which has held off the beginning of the end, which hides the ultimate limits of being, must itself sooner or later come to an end and be overcome by the creative effort of the human spirit.
What, then, is the essence of the moral crisis? The essence is above all a revolutionary movement from a consciousness for which morality means submission to a general-average law, over to a consciousness for which morality is a creative problem of individuality.
Creative morality is not the fulfillment of law; it is the revelation of man in moral creativeness. The sinful side of human nature remains oriented towards the law, but its creative side surpasses the law.
In our bourgeois epoch, the task of creating a spiritual chivalry, a chivalry of the spirit, stands before the elect of mankind with new compulsive power. That every value is aristocratic—this is the revelation of the spirit of chivalry.
Aristocratic morals (in the metaphysical rather than the social sense of the word) are morals of value, of quality, of individuality, of creativeness. And every degradation of value, of quality, of individuality or creativeness is a sin against God and against the divine in Man.
CHAPTER 11 - Creativity and Morals: The New Ethic of Creativity
The creative New Testament morals of evangelic love have not been revealed in the Christian world—they have only been rarely glimpsed, like lighting flashes, in the lives of such chosen spirits as St. Francis. Christianity was oriented towards the world as a religion of obedience rather than a religion of love.
Christianity, as the revelation of grace, freedom and love, is something other than a set of morals under the law.
Traditional Christian morals are hostile to all heroism, to all heroic upswing of life, to heroic impulse, to heroic sacrifice. Traditional morals of the Christian world are bourgeois in the profoundest sense of the word.
In the patristic, traditionally Christian consciousness, negative virtues—humility, self-denial, abstinence—eclipsed the positive virtues of courage, nobility and honor.
(Christian morality) is impregnated with the pathos of small acts and modest situations; it is afraid of great, heroic, broad-winged action. And the lack of wings has been raised almost to the rank of religious heroism.
This type of morality has no love for the heights; it is hostile to any aristocratic spirit.
Everything which evaluates a man not by his innate qualities but rather by his situation or the milieu in which he lives is bourgeois.
The Christian conquest of “this world” is a conquest of all bourgeoisity; it is the sacrifice of worldly profit and well-being to nobility and beauty as a way of life.
Man cannot live in this world and create new life using only the morality of submission, only the morality of conflict with his own sins. One who lives in constant terror at his own sins is powerless to accomplish anything in the world.
Every man must pass through the redemption and commune with its mystery. The moment of redemption from sin in the life of a man is inevitably connected with obedience and humility, with renunciation of self-assertion, with the sacrifice of spiritual pride.
But it is impossible to construct a whole life-ethic on humility and submission. If they are recognized as the only guides of life, the great moments of humility and submissiveness can easily be turned into slavery, hypocrisy and spiritual death. Spiritual efforts of humility and submission are only movements on the way—the goal is the creation of new life in love.
The moral ideal of the Church Fathers was that of “starchestvo”—the tradition of certain holy elders in the monasteries. It decries youth, it denies the creative impulse and upsurge; it is afraid of youth.
Through the redemption the world will come to a new creative morality of youth in the Spirit of Christ. Christ, the Absolute Man, is eternally young.
The morality of the Gospels is carefree and does not permit of worrying. The care-burdened morality, the morality of worry, is the bourgeois morality of this world. The morals of the elders easily turn into the morals of old age, the morals of constant fear, constant anxiety, constant concern about the troubles of tomorrow, perpetual denial of the divinely care-free birds of the heaven and the lilies of the field.
Creative morality cannot be based upon separating and placing opposite each other the human and the divine. Creative morality will always reveal the seraphic nature of man.
There is a morality of the aristocratic nobility of the spirit and a morality of the serf-like plebeian spirit. Christian morality is not slavishly-plebeian but rather aristocratically-noble, the morality of the sons of God, with their primogeniture, their high birth and their high calling. Christianity is the religion of the strong in spirit, not the weak. The Christian ethic is an ethic of spiritual victory rather than spiritual defeat.
True Christian morality lays on man, who has become a son of God, free responsibility for his own fate and for the fate of the world.
The whole worth of man is in his participation in God and in divine life, in his striving upward.
When man is aided by the God-man Redeemer, this is not some external help, alien to man’s nature, but an inward aid which reveals his own natural likeness to God, his own participation in divine life. Christ is not outside us but within us. He is the Absolute Man in us. He is our communion with the Holy Trinity.
The religion of Christ is the religion of man’s highest powers—it is the very opposite of all weakness or depression in man. Christianity is a way of the revelation in every man of the Man Absolute.
The way of Christian morality leads through sacrifice to creativeness, through renunciation of this world to the creation of a new world and a new life.
Christianity does not permit a lowering of quality for the sake of quantity—it is wholly in quality, i.e. in aristocratic value.
Christian morality is always something of the heights, something which uplifts, rather than a thing of the valley, something which flattens out.
In the world-crisis of morals the longing for moral creativeness is struggling forth, the longing for morals as creativeness rather than obedience. The crisis of moralism, the protest against the law of moral submission, is also a foretaste of a new world-epoch, an epoch of creativeness.
Never yet, in any epoch, has there been born out of canonic morality a new community of men. Like every other law, morality has done more to denounce evil than to create higher truth in life.
Average morality, which has held off the beginning of the end, which hides the ultimate limits of being, must itself sooner or later come to an end and be overcome by the creative effort of the human spirit.
What, then, is the essence of the moral crisis? The essence is above all a revolutionary movement from a consciousness for which morality means submission to a general-average law, over to a consciousness for which morality is a creative problem of individuality.
Creative morality is not the fulfillment of law; it is the revelation of man in moral creativeness. The sinful side of human nature remains oriented towards the law, but its creative side surpasses the law.
In our bourgeois epoch, the task of creating a spiritual chivalry, a chivalry of the spirit, stands before the elect of mankind with new compulsive power. That every value is aristocratic—this is the revelation of the spirit of chivalry.
Aristocratic morals (in the metaphysical rather than the social sense of the word) are morals of value, of quality, of individuality, of creativeness. And every degradation of value, of quality, of individuality or creativeness is a sin against God and against the divine in Man.
NICOLAS BERDYAEV
THE MEANING OF THE CREATIVE ACT
Creativity & Asceticism


A Gathering in Sudak, 1920
(L to R) Adelaide Gertsyk, Nikolay Alexandrovich Berdyaev, Lyubov Gertsyk-Zhukovskaya, Evgenia Gertsyk, Maximilian Voloshin, Lydia Berdyaev






In the depths of every true religion and every genuine mystic there is the thirst for overcoming “the world” as a lower order of Being, for victory over “the world,” and hence we have asceticism as a way to this conquest and this victory. Without this ascetic moment—that is, the conquest of the lower nature for the sake of the higher; conquest of this world for the sake of another world—religious and mystical life is unthinkable. Asceticism is one of the eternal ways of religious experience, and we cannot doubt the religious value and effectiveness of this way.
But we are faced with the question: is there some other religious way? The experience of creative ecstasy as a religious way is not revealed in the consciousness of the Church Fathers or in the consciousness of the old mystics. The creative experience, the creative ecstasy, is either denied completely by religious consciousness as “worldly” and of the passions, or else is merely admitted and permitted. At best, religious conscious-ness justifies creativeness; but this very religious justification of creativeness presupposes that creativeness lies outside the way of religion. Creative experience is not something secondary and hence requiring justification. Creative experience is some-thing primary, and hence justifying.
Creativeness is no less spiritual, no less religious, than asceticism. Creative ecstasy is a religious ecstasy.
Creativeness accepts the Gospel commandment not to love “the world” or the things of the world. He who creates feels himself to be not of this world. Creativeness is the overcoming of the world in the Gospel sense, but a kind of overcoming other than that of asceticism, although equal to it in value.
In the creative act, Man passes out from this world and enters another world. Likewise, creativeness is not an adaptation to this world—creativeness is transition beyond the limits of this world.
The Gospel commandments “love not the world” and “overcome the world” remain valid for ever and can never be revoked. To “not love the world” means to be free and to reveal our sonship to God…. Creativeness is not only faithful to this highest commandment of freedom from “the world,” but it is also, by its very nature, a victory over that world in the name of another. It is a revelation of the meaning of the commandment “love not the world.”
The creative act is always an exit from “this world,” from this life. In its essence, creativeness is an unshackling, a bursting of chains. In the creative ecstasy, all the heaviness of the world is overcome; sin is burned away; an other, a higher nature, shines through.
The experience of overcoming the world in creativeness is qualitatively different from the ascetic experience of overcoming the world. It is not an experience of obedience, but rather an experience of daring. “The world” is burned away in the daring of creative activity just as in the act of obedience.
Creative values are not “worldly,” not “of this world.” The creative act is transcendental: it steps outside “the world.”
The Christian consciousness ascetically denies “the world” and everything worldly—in this is the eternal truth. And criticism of historic Christianity is rightly directed at its compromises and “deals” with “the world.” Historic Christianity is lacking in consistent asceticism; in its expression it is not yet sufficiently spiritual.
There is neither contradiction nor opposition between creativeness and asceticism. Creativeness does not assert what asceticism denies. The revelation of creativeness lies outside the Gospel’s denial of “the world.” Creativeness presupposes an ascetic over-coming of the world—it is positive asceticism.
Creative life is life eternal, and not life corruptible.
How powerless and pitiful is all moralizing about great creations! (Any evil that might be in an artist’s nature—even a non-believing artist) is consumed by passing through the creative ecstasy of genius. The beauty which is born in the creative act is a transition from “this world” into the cosmos, into another form of Being, and in it there can be no shadow of the evil which was in the sinful nature of the creator.
The spiritual life is unthinkable without the great mystery of repentance. Sin must be not only recognized but it must be consumed in the fire of repentance. Creativity cannot replace repentance. The creative ecstasy and the creative impulse are a revolutionary birth into new life.
In the religious creative experience there is a positive rather than a negative overcoming of “the world.” The world must be conquered both ascetically and creatively. But by the ascetic way alone, solely by repentance, “the world” cannot be overcome, sin and darkness cannot be finally burned away.
In Christian saintliness there is an eternal and undying truth, but a truth which is incomplete, in which not everything has been revealed. We are facing a new consciousness of the relationship between the saint and the genius, between redemption and creativeness.
The way of genius is another type of religious way, equal in value and equal in dignity with the way of the saint. The creativity of the genius is not “worldly” but truly “spiritual” activity.
In every truly creative genius there has been the sainthood of the creative Epoch, another kind of sainthood, more sacrificial than ascetic and canonic sainthood. Genius is another kind of sainthood, but it can be recognized and canonized only in the revelation of creativeness.
Genius is the sainthood of daring rather than obedience.
The creative way of genius demands sacrifice—no less sacrifice than that demanded by the way of sainthood. On the way of the creative genius, it is just as necessary to abjure “the world,” to overcome “the world,” as on the way of the saint.
But the way of creative genius demands still another sacrifice: the sacrifice of an assured position…. He who has entered on the creative way, the way of genius, must give up the quiet havens of life, must renounce the building of his own house, the safe and assured ordering of his personality. Only he is capable of this sacrifice who in it can transcend the bounds of “the world.” The way of creative genius means casting off from all the safe coastlines. Genius is essentially tragic; it is not containable in “the world,” and not accepted by “the world.”
The creative genius never responds to the demands of “the world”—he never fulfills the world’s orders; he does not come under any of the worlds’ categories. In genius there is always something of the unsuccessful from the world’s point of view—almost uselessness for the world.
In genius there is nothing specific—it is always a universal sense of things, a universal upsurge towards another kind of Being. Genius is integral Being, universal quality; genius is always the quality of a man—not only of an artist, a savant, a thinker or a social worker.
Creativity is religious in nature, for it involves resistance to “this world” by the artist’s whole spirit. It is a universal assumption of another world and a universal impulse towards it.
Genius is holy inadaptability to “this world.” The life of a genius holds moments of ecstatic happiness, but it does not know peace and calm joy; it is always in tragic disharmony with the world around it.
Genius is radically different from talent—it has nothing in common with talent. Talent is a differentiated gift, specific, corresponding to the demands of various forms of culture. Talent is the quality of an artist, a savant, a social worker, but not the quality of a man. Genius is the union of a nature having the quality of genius with some specific talent. Thus, an artist who is a genius combines in himself this “genial” nature with artistic talent. The nature of talent is not organic, not ontological, but functional. The nature of talent is not universal.
The nature with genius in it may burn out without having brought into the world anything of value. Talent usually produces values and is suitably esteemed. Talent is moderate and measured. Genius is always measureless. The nature of genius is always revolutionary. Talent acts in the midst of culture, with its “arts and sciences.” Genius acts in ends and beginnings and knows no bounds whatever. Talent is obedience; genius is boldness and daring. Talent is of “this world,” genius, of another.
The cult of saintliness should be complemented by the cult of creativity, for the ecstasy of creativity is no less religious than the ecstasy of sainthood. Not saintliness alone, but genius also, is a way.
The potentiality of genius, like the potentiality of holiness, lies in every image and likeness of God.
The will to genius is a courageous overcoming of “the world.” Genius is a positive revelation of the image and likeness of God in man, a revelation of man’s creative nature, a nature which is “not of this world.”
The gifts of God are endlessly varied, the ways of God are varied, and in the house of the Father there are many mansions. There were saints who had a special gift of the mystic contemplation of divine mystery…. Other saints had the gift of beauty.
On the way of creative genius it is possible that a special new type of monasticism should arise. This way demands no less renunciation of “the world” and its goods than the way of monasticism as traditionally recognized. The life of genius is a monastic life in the world.
Only the religious way of creativeness carries mystic asceticism out to the real overcoming of this world, to the setting up of “another world.”