John Garrard and Carol Garrard open their story by joining the lengthy list of authors who have been trying to explain the reasons behind the collapse of Soviet power in 1991. In their case the focus is on religion: the inability of Communist leaders to destroy the subversive power of the Orthodox faith (despite consistent and often brutal anti-religious campaigns) and the rickety regime's failure to detect signs of resistance growing gradually within the Russian Orthodox hierarchy. Ironically, it was a similar resistance coming from Orthodox bishops that helped to shake up the complacency of czarist power during the Revolution of 1905.

The Garrards are quite correct to note that the Western academic establishment has, by and large, ignored religious themes associated with the downfall of the USSR in favor of studies that point to an ailing economy or to pressures exerted on the Kremlin by cold warriors. The place of Orthodoxy as a factor in the story of Soviet demise has been undeservedly confined to the footnotes, partly due to the slowness of Western scholars in realizing fully the extent to which God-centered motives continue to influence most of the world's peoples. An exception to this oversight has been the work of Great Britain's Keston Institute, where the Garrards have spent considerable time searching through newspaper collections and interviewing staff members who closely watched and sharply criticized the last years of the oppressive Soviet bureaucracy directed by its notorious Council for Religious Affairs. In an oversight of their own, however, the Garrards neglect to mention the outstanding work of the late Jane Ellis and the research efforts conducted at the Aleksanteri Institute at the University of Helsinki.

The authors describe what they call resurgent Orthodoxy in the years 1989–2007, concentrating particularly on the Holy Synod's clever harnessing of a popular movement to restore the attractiveness of run-down church buildings and to revive a number of traditional religious celebrations. The Russian federal government has had neither the means nor the will to resist this activity, which did so much to gather a previously scattered faithful into a collective force supporting the aims of the bishops of the Moscow Patriarchate. In this core section of their narrative, the Garrards also discuss some of the perennial problems the Holy Synod faces and has faced at least since the time of Peter the Great, including anti-Semitism, the unwelcome enthusiasm of Western missionaries, domestic movements promoting monarchism or nationalism in the name of Christianity, and, of course, the latest episode in the age-old feud with Rome. One up-to-date chapter explains the success the church has enjoyed in its relations with the Russian Army, but the authors could have strengthened their story considerably by including information on efforts to introduce a course on Orthodox culture into the public school system. One of the most interesting discussions in the Garrards' work reviews causes of the tension within the Russian Orthodox Church itself. At the root of most of this stress sits the phenomenon of Sergiyanstvo, the decision made in 1927 by the imprisoned Metropolitan Sergy (Stragorodsky) to accept Stalin's terms for reopening the church. As Sergy was well aware, of course, the so-called reopening meant very little beyond allowing the Soviet government full use of the church to advance its foreign policy aims, and fierce persecution of religion by the regime continued, especially under Nikita Khrushchev. It also meant that no clergyman could be ordained without being vetted by the government and that all bishops were both appointed by the state and expected to obey instructions handed down by the KGB. Sergy's decision to accept such severe restrictions in exchange for the survival of the church was and continues to be widely criticized in some Orthodox circles at home and abroad, but the authors treat the entire issue with admirable objectivity and give each point of view in the argument the sensitivity it deserves.

Throughout their analyses, the Garrards point emphatically to the political and theological savvy of Aleksy II as the indispensable element in the revival of the church since 1991, and, indeed, the late patriarch was a fearless and foxy leader advancing church interests. His death in December 2008 was a great loss. On the other hand, many clergy deserve more attention than they receive in the book, if the story of Orthodoxy's present success in Russia is to be understood. In this regard, Metropolitan Kirill, Father Vsevolod Chaplin, and the late Father Alexander Men are only three important names. Moreover, the most prominent intellectuals in Russia today are either lay Orthodox Christians who support the church or religiously minded public figures who have promoted the cause of religious toleration, in some cases when their lives have been in danger. Their ideas and actions have played a crucial part in Orthodoxy's resurgence, and including them would have rendered the Garrards' narrative more substantial.

Even though the book's style appeals to a popular readership, scholars will want to study the Garrards' work. Their personal contacts with many Russians active in church life have awarded them priceless insights, within the reach of very few Westerners, and many of the important events they witnessed have not been well covered by news outlets. Their frequent, and at times lengthy, flashbacks to events initially described in the well-known volumes of imperial and Muscovite religious histories, however, describe events that will already be well known to serious students of Russia. Furthermore, citing many more Russian language sources in support of the book's contentions would have established the reference points professional historians like to see.