A new book
Published in the publishing house of our monastery A new book — “The Life of the Hieromartyr Veniamin (Kazan), Metropolitan of Petrograd and Gdov, and those like him who suffered the Venerable Martyr Sergius (Shein), the martyrs Yuri Novitsky and John Kovsharov » .
In the new book of the famous Russian hagiographer Archimandrite Damascene (Orlovsky), the reader is offered the life of Metropolitan Veniamin (Kazan) of Petrograd - one of the first holy martyrs who did not sin with their soul or conscience during the persecution that began and gave their life for Christ and His Church .
all teachings →WITH too much tension is harmful. It’s possible to lose your strength suddenly and lose your strength. You need to fence yourself with an iron ring for everything. Each of your actions must be completed only after you have verified whether you agree with the laws, with the Holy tym Pi-sa-ni-em. And yes, the words need to be said after the fact, as you pray and believe.
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all videos →A page dedicated to the Optina brethren killed on Easter 1993: Hieromonk Vasily, monks Trofim and Ferapont
For many years now in the Optina Pustyn monastery they have been commemorating him every day for Divine Liturgy murdered brothers - hieromonk Vasily (Roslyakov), monk Trofim (Tatarnikov) and monk Ferapont (Pushkarev). Numerous pilgrims come from everywhere to venerate their holy tombs and ask gracious help in spiritual and everyday needs.
During this time, the fame of the murdered monks spread not only throughout Russia, but also far beyond its borders. God glorifies his chosen ones who gave their lives for the sake of His Holy Name.
The news of the martyrdom of three Optina monks at the hands of a Satanist on Easter 1993, like heavenly thunder, cut through the ordinary everyday life and shocked human souls and hearts.
Interior 3-D view of the chapel
Soon after the death of the brothers, a telegram was sent to the father of the Viceroy:
Christ is Risen! I share Easter joy with you and the brethren of the monastery! Together with you I share the grief over tragic death three inhabitants of Optina Pustyn. I pray for the repose of their souls. I believe that the Lord, who called them on the first Holy Day Christ's Resurrection through martyrdom, will make them participants eternal Easter in the unevening days of His Kingdom.
My heart is with you and my brothers.
Patriarch Alexy II
Siblings, Case Details wonderful help We ask you to send us the prayers of the murdered brothers to the following address: . The most interesting of them will be published on the website.
I believe that the Lord, who called them on the first day through martyrdom, will make them participants in the eternal Pascha in the non-evening days of His Kingdom.
When they asked me to write about the brethren killed by a Satanist on Easter on April 18, 1993, at first I was confused. There was a week left until April 18 - Memorial Day. And although I have been working in obedience in Optina Pustyn for five years and know many of the inhabitants of the monastery, it seemed unrealistic to have time to question the Optina fathers of the first call in a week - burdened with the numerous concerns of the confessors of the monastery.
Two or three days passed, and I was still unable to talk with any of the fathers who knew the monks killed on Easter. Someone promised to tell me, but later, after the post, as he is very busy. Someone refused, citing the fact that he had already told everything he knew, and this story became widely known. famous book“Red Easter” by Nina Pavlova...
Every day before the start of obedience I try to venerate the relics of the Optina elders and venerate the murdered brethren - Hieromonk Vasily, monks Trofim and Ferapont. And today, entering the chapel of the Resurrection of Christ - the resting place of the murdered, I asked:
“Dear fathers! Forgive me for daring to ask you for help! I clearly feel my unworthiness, but I really want to remind people of you, honor your memory and bow to you once again... If possible, please help!”
The Optina residents know from experience how quickly Father Vasily, Father Trofim and Father Ferapont are obedient, how they want no one to leave the monastery unconsoled. AND further events may become another page in the chronicle of the prayerful assistance of the murdered brethren to all who turn to them.
On the same day, I wrote down memories of the brotherhood of three people at once.
Hieromonk Roman, at that time just an Optina pilgrim, was a student at the Rostov University. When he began to think about the monastic path, in the church he was advised to find Father Ferapont in Optina, who also went to the monastery in Rostov in Cathedral. Father Roman recalls:
I talked with the monk Ferapont twice. It was clear that he was very collected. Self-absorbed. He was actively engaged in the Jesus Prayer. And this is immediately obvious. As seen? By concentration... When a person tensely holds prayer, when he tries to stand before God, it is felt... You cut off thoughts and remain silent... Internal and external.
I know people who have said the Jesus Prayer; in Optina there were and now, of course, there are many brethren who try to keep this prayer, but none of them then felt such inner concentration as Father Ferapont.
I strived for inner work, looked for such people, and he was like that. How far he has progressed in prayer - only God knows. But the fact that he was in this work is beyond doubt.
During Great Lent I came to Optina and, after talking with Father Ferapont, asked him for advice about myself. But he did not say anything on his own behalf, but sent me to the elder, Father Elijah. And the elder blessed me to stay in Optina for a year and told me to enter the seminary.
I was wondering. And after the murder I felt such a spiritual uplift! You know, when people suffer for Orthodoxy, it is very inspiring! You understand: they paid with their lives, and you did nothing at all...
That's what he said. Shared. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go serve a memorial service.
And a few minutes later, Hieromonk Father Seraphim shared his memories, and in 1993, Hieromonk Mikhail:
Father Vasily, Father Trofim, Father Ferapont - these are people who labored, sought God and were ripe for eternal life. Father Vasily was bright man, the Lord gave him the powerful gift of preaching, the gift of speech. And what spiritual poetry he wrote! Prayer book. He had such grace... He walked ahead of everyone!
Father Ferapont prayed. He was silent because he was praying. When you pray, there is no time for vain talk... His last entry in his diary is the words of Isaac the Syrian: “Silence is the sacrament of the future century.” The man was of royal strength both physically and spiritually. Every night he got up and did five hundred. At night - taking time away from sleep. Few people do Pentecentenary at night... Put a padded jacket on the floor to muffle the sound prostrations…
Father Trofim always helped everyone. Bogatyr. He worked on a trawler... he carried several heavy boxes in one hand. He was constantly engaged in doing good. man of God.
All three were killed in a mean way - in the back.
Many felt that something terrible was going to happen. After Easter Matins in the Vvedensky Church, I went to the monastery to prepare for the middle liturgy. I was walking, as usual, along the path to the monastery in the predawn darkness, and suddenly I felt horror. It hit me so hard! Never in my life have I felt such horror! Father Melchizedek later shared that he experienced terrible despondency.
And even earlier, at the temple, three people in leather jackets suddenly came out at me. They walked straight at me, and they had such looks full of anger that I immediately thought: “Murderers!” Although he still knew nothing about the upcoming murder. And there they filmed a film about Optina. And just a powerful beam of light. And these three disappeared, turned around, and went into the darkness. Now I think that I could have died too. But I was not ready then, and the Lord did not allow it.
And they were ready. The seal of God was on them - the Lord took the best of us. They were later brought by car, and they lay there - as if alive - soft, with peace and tranquility on their faces. Sometimes they say: “They killed the first ones they came across...” No. They were God's chosen ones. Dying for Christ is an honor that still needs to be earned.
That's it, now there will be a rite about Panagia. God help!
After my obedience that day I had to go to the post office. I arrive, and post office- a huge queue. Stuffy, hot. And then there is an elderly woman standing in front of me, very talkative... I, tired, answer reluctantly, and then I listen to her words and understand that this meeting is not accidental. And she tells me about the wonderful help of the murdered brothers! This is what Galina Dmitrievna, a resident of Kozelsk, told me:
It’s hard to stand, it’s hot... Well, nothing... And you, dear daughter, are probably working in Optina? How did you find out? Well, you Optina people can see that young people don’t often wear long skirts or scarves these days... I used to go to the monastery often... Yes... Now I rarely go, but before I often... Why rarely? You think: how old am I? No, no. Not seventy. I am eighty years old! So it’s already hard... I go to the nearby temple. With husband. I got my husband three years ago! Maybe you will find it funny: getting married at such a time... But listen first...
I have had many sorrows in my life. She grew up with her stepmother. She didn't love me. I was very offended. Then I got married, and my husband started drinking. He also offended me greatly. And then the children grew up, moved far away, and the husband died. And I was left completely alone. And I had such grief - loneliness...
One day, three years ago, I came to Optina, and I looked: and there were people surrounding me. Do you know Elder Elijah? I approached quietly. And he suddenly turns to me: “How are you, mother?” And I was embarrassed and answered: “Yes, I’m already old, but I still want to live...” And he smiles and asks: “Is twenty years enough?” And I just turned seventy-seven. I said: “Then, father, twenty-three - so that I can live to be a hundred years old!” He smiled. I was depressed, but his smile immediately made my soul feel lighter.
I went to the chapel to see the murdered brethren. I look: there is a girl hiding a note behind a cross. I ask her: “What are you doing?” She was embarrassed, but still answered: “Here, I ask the fathers for help... They help... The Lord hears them...” And she left the chapel.
I thought and thought, and also decided to write a note. She shared out loud: “Our dear, beloved fathers! Now, while there is no one in the chapel, I’ll tell you... It’s so hard for me alone, so lonely! Help me please! You know, life was not sweet. And it flew by so quickly! Maybe I’ll still live, even twenty years... But it’s very hard for me alone... And I also wanted to sell the house. Not for sale... It's been a long time... Help, if possible..."
I said this, but in the note I only wrote: “I feel very lonely. Servant of God Galina."
And what do you think, dear daughter?! Less than a week later, I successfully sold the house! And that same week I met my grandfather! Where? And in the temple! My grandfather, you know how good he is! Georgy! In honor of St. George the Victorious! Very religious and a kind person. War veteran…
And he and I have lived so well that now we don’t even want to die... We’ve been living for three years... I’m 80, he’s 86. Maybe someone thinks that at that age you don’t need a life partner... Only we feel so good together! After my loneliness, this is so comforting to me! In the morning he gets up and (I often forget, but he never) always drinks holy water himself and eats a piece of prosphora and brings it to me. We always go to church services together. We also walk together, admiring nature... Sometimes at night he gets up, I also wake up, I look: and my grandfather is already at the icons, standing, quietly praying... And so we live peacefully, amicably - Father Vasily, Father Trofim and Father Ferapont about me taken care of!
It’s my turn... You see how much I’ve told you...
Here are the three stories. And I would like to end with Father Vasily’s poems on the death of Hieromonk Raphael. The poems sound as if they were written about himself and about the monks Trophim and Ferapont:
I wish I could find hard words
About life, about the coldness of the grave,
And my speech would be so bitter,
That I wouldn't say even half of it.
But I want to cry in silence
And go out into the world with bright eyes.
Who rushed across the earth like lightning,
He is clothed with light under the heavens.
Father Vasily, Father Trofim, Father Ferapont, pray to God for us sinners!
Archimandrite Tikhon (Shevkunov)
In 1990, long before the murder in Optina, I lived for a month near Kozelsk and a group of young people - friends of Averin (he lived in the regional center of Volkonskoye, not far from Kozelsk) came to me. They came to me as the author of the article “Do not participate in the works of darkness” because they saw in his behavior something similar to what was described. They said that Averin has some strange sense of justice, a little like the Komsomol “fight for truth,” and at the same time he breaks into very cruel acts. On the one hand, they loved him, on the other, they feared him. He could afford anything. He was introduced to me as an amateur mystic who had read something, went to church, learned something, experienced something, strained himself, tortured himself into some kind of spiritual experience. He grabbed onto this experience as if it were truth - and away we go...
During the investigation, I read his diaries, dotted with spiritual verses - completely satanic, and very aesthetic. They passed through like poems by Nikolai Averin. Even before talking to him, I basically had an idea of what kind of person he was. Such disgustingly sophisticated aestheticism did not fit in with him. This could have been written by some completely disintegrated person of an extremely aesthetic sense. Later, when I met with Averin, I asked: “What kind of poems are these? Did you really write them?” It turned out that during the investigation they simply didn’t figure it out - of course, he copied them from somewhere. When I saw these poems and other notes, I realized that this man was not like Smerdyakov, but the murder took place according to the same scheme, and that means Ivan Karamazov must be here, there must be a person who gave this impulse. It would be important to find the person who directed him. Averin did not say at the investigation where he got the books from - he complained about headache, avoided answering.
Averin served in Afghanistan - very briefly, for emergency service, - but he was not in the special forces and most likely did not participate in serious battles, at least he never mentioned it, so he could not acquire the skill of killing people in a sophisticated manner there. Returning from Afghanistan, he took up bad amateur mysticism, which immediately brought him into a wonderful and very scary state. He began to attend church, but at the same time he did not trust the priests at all and did not study the holy fathers. I decided that I would figure it out myself. He found himself in the temple, but outside the Church. And he began to accumulate in himself all his experiences that he could have. Without clearing his sins by repentance, Averin simply found himself in the most banal and, in general, vulgar spiritual situation, when he began to believe his every thought. And since his thoughts were proud and passionate, he first imagined himself powerful and lofty, and then some mystical help began to come. In this state, he went to the temple, fasted heavily, and soon voices began to appear to him, dictating what to do. These voices, or rather the voice that gradually gained power over him, called themselves god.
Averin came to Optina Pustyn and turned to two priests. They said that these are demons - don’t talk to them, don’t communicate. He replied: “What kind of demons are these when they look like this to me? good advice give?" He didn’t come to Optina again. That was enough for him. Maybe it’s partly our fault that we couldn’t pay enough attention to the person: just sit down and talk in more detail. We limited ourselves to a simple statement, generally correct, but for this man is unintelligible.
These voices really helped Averin at times and saved him from troubles. And he rose more and more in his opinion of himself. In such a situation, there is undoubtedly both a mental disorder and a purely spiritual one - demonic possession. One mental disorder You can’t explain this, for example, a case when he is driving along the road in a car, and suddenly a voice says: “Stop immediately, brake!” He slams on the brakes, and suddenly a car comes flying out, which, if he had driven a little further, would have hit him in the forehead...
The demon, who called himself a god, began to pester and torment Averin very much. All the time he instilled obsessive thoughts in him, from which he could not free himself day or night. The demon did not let him rest, then he began to scold and humiliate him in every possible way, forcing him to do something. Day and night there was a voice in the man’s head that simply tormented him. But at first Averin voluntarily submitted to him, which happens with any fall: we, succumbing to a thought, indulge some passion, and then it gradually takes possession of us, and we no longer belong to ourselves, we are no longer glad that we submitted to this passion.
I asked Averin if he was involved in summoning spirits - he himself does not remember doing this. But you can practice magic without a spiritualistic plate - you just need to want to get a connection with some spiritual entity. He can call it whatever he wants, even god, but it will be a demon - it’s a relay, a connection. The connection will be established - and now a person has a religion, the very object of his religion has appeared: this is the very thing that he calls god, but in fact is a demon. And the influence begins, which intensifies until the person becomes possessed by this demon.
The spirit that tormented Averin aimed him at murder. Averin understood this, but could no longer free himself from him - he was so subordinate to him. He didn’t want to go to church and tell the priest everything, and therefore, as a determined man, he began to fight on his own. After consulting with someone, he began to worship Satan as the enemy of God, because the creature that tormented him called himself god. He began to serve Satan, to write out these very verses - in general, a terrible blasphemy against everything holy began. And then the moment came when the spirit that possessed Averin demanded from him what happened.
Two years before the murder, also on Easter, Averin attempted rape. I didn’t ask whether this very demon forced him to commit such blasphemy or not, but it was clear that the man’s orientation was completely unambiguous - Satanism.
The question remained unclear whether there were other people, whether there was another group that prompted Averin to do all this. From my point of view, this is a very important issue in the investigation of this particular case. Averin did not say that there were some people who guided him, but he, perhaps, did not even know about them. He told, for example, during the investigation that in Kozelsk some psychics put him into a hypnotic state. He wanted to be cured from this very demon, from the voice. Such a person - both mentally ill and with obvious signs of demonic possession - very easily succumbs to all sorts of influences and manipulations.
The investigator who was in charge of Averin’s case asked me to meet with the criminal. For the first time I talked to him face to face and still didn’t fully understand whether someone else was with him or not, whether someone was moving his hand. There is no doubt for me that he was controlled by a demon. But was there any earthly, human structure? In the end, it doesn't matter. Averin as a phenomenon is the materialization of the spiritual nightmare in which he is now great amount people in today's Russia: a stream of films that spiritually corrupt people, a stream of occult experiences - namely experiences, not teachings, but real experiences. All this ardent desire, the terrible and passionate desire of people to get into the spiritual world, to master it and, so to speak, to be powerful there - that’s what manifested itself in this very Averin, vulgar, mediocre and disgusting, but also scary, of course. Because this is a terrible signal, because society is ready for this and society wants all this, wants something similar.
Averin, of course, became scared when, having committed murder, he realized that he had again been deceived by this demon, that the voice continued to torment and mock him all the time. This man has already fallen completely into the clutches of Satan, and the enemy does whatever he wants with him, mocks him as he wants. He had already tried to commit suicide twice, cutting his stomach open. And now he did the same thing in the zone - the demon is leading him to suicide, but he can’t help himself. When we were talking with him, he kept asking: maybe I should drink holy water, or put on a cross, or something else, if only this voice wouldn’t be there? And it took four hours just to convince him that nothing - neither a cross nor holy water - could help him, unless he himself cut off all conversation, all conversation, all communication with this thought, with this spirit that came to him fits. He asked me to help him. But I can’t scold him, and it’s impossible to take Averin somewhere to scold him. With great difficulty, I managed to convince Averin that the only thing that could bring him relief now is to completely stop communicating with incoming thoughts, because this is a bridge with the demon: you need to cut off the thought. He understood this and grabbed hold of it like the last straw. After some time, he asked the investigator to be allowed to confess.
And when we met again, he said: “Yes, now I completely cut it off. This voice continues to mock me even more terribly, but it’s easier for me when I just started cutting it off. And now it comes less often.”
When Averin asked for confession, I was just on matters of the courtyard Pskov-Pechersky Monastery at His Holiness Patriarch and took his blessing on how to confess. I didn’t know whether it was possible to say right away for such a crime: “I forgive and permit.” And His Holiness said: “Confess, but do not read the prayer of permission. He remained alive, and let him first bear the fruit of repentance. Perhaps after many years the Church will allow him to partake of the Holy Mysteries of Christ.” When I later went to see my confessor, Fr. John (Krestyankin) and said to him: “Here, father, I had the opportunity to confess to Averin,” he asked: “Didn’t you read the prayer of permission?” - "No". - “That’s right, don’t read it under any circumstances yet.”
I took Averin to the Novodevichy Convent, where I confessed him. God help him. He wrote a letter to the Optina brethren, asking for forgiveness. He writes about how he feels that they have forgiven him, his murdered fathers. Although, when such things happen under stress, they can easily turn into their opposite. May God grant every person repentance, and him too. Of course, the murdered Optina fathers pray first of all for him, for the murderer. But how will the Lord accept him and what will his fate be like?
April 18, 1993 in Optina Pustyn Easter night a monstrous crime was committed - hieromonk Vasily and monks Trofim and Ferapont were killed. Not everyone knows that Father Vasily, already as a monk, prepared for publication of the works of the holy fathers and Russian philosophers in the “Psychological Journal” of the Academy of Sciences. In the early 1990s, any publication of this kind was perceived as a revelation, like a sip fresh air. Just as in the 19th century, books on mental prayer that were published in Optina were a revelation for Russian educated society. Natalia SHALASHNIKOVA, at that time the executive secretary of the Psychological Journal, recalls what Hieromonk Vasily (Roslyakov) was like, what it was like to work with him, and what the atmosphere was like in Pustyn in the early 1990s.
O. Vasily at the graves of the Elders
April 18 – sad memorable date for Optina Pustyn. In 1993, on Easter night, Hieromonk Vasily and monks Trofim and Ferapont were killed in the monastery.
About it tragic event Many articles have been written in newspapers and magazines, the sincere and touching book “Red Easter” by N.A. Pavlova and others. All of them contain biographies of the murdered Optina martyrs, as well as stories from relatives and friends, friends and acquaintances about meetings, common affairs and joint work.
It is precisely this kind of work with Hieromonk Vasily that I want to talk about. I didn’t talk about this before, because... didn’t consider Father Vasily’s participation in our common cause something special. But time passes, and, as often happens, a “reassessment of values” occurs. My memory comes to life, and, gradually, my opinion changes. Now we need to return to the distant 1990, and much will become clear. Now that time is called the “dashing 90s”. But then, what was happening, what we felt, was called the “spirit of revival,” “a breath of freedom,” a free wind.”
Yes, we can say that society has freed itself from the stereotypes in consciousness imposed by orthodox materialism, the question of the spiritual principle in man acquired its meaning and relevance.
At that time, I worked as the executive secretary of the editorial board of the “Psychological Journal” of the Academy of Sciences. At the meetings of the editorial board, issues of “filling the spiritual vacuum” were discussed and my proposal was accepted to introduce a new section for the publication of fragments from the unpublished works of Orthodox philosophers and scientists in our country, as well as from the handwritten heritage of the Optina elders. So the need arose to visit Optina Pustyn.
Editor-in-chief of the magazine, prominent domestic psychologist, Andrei Vladimirovich Brushlinsky clearly understood how valuable a story about Christian perfection could be for the spiritual development of people. He supported my idea - to invite Optina monks to work in this column.
We have prepared a letter to the rector of the monastery of the Holy Vvedenskaya Optina Hermitage, Archimandrite Evlogy (Smirnov). The letter contained a request for help to our magazine in publishing materials available in the monastery library, contributing to the revival of spirituality in society, as well as education in the field of history and philosophy of Russian Orthodox Church. I came to the monastery with this letter.
So, 1990, the beginning of autumn. The weather is fine; road, nature, pine trees to the sky. But the most important thing is people! A lot of people, mostly young, busy with a wide variety of work, and having one goal: to revive, restore Optina, support and strengthen the belief that our lives will change for the better. The atmosphere of general uplift, manifestation of attention, mutual assistance, trust and joy from communication and awareness of the benefits of one’s business - all this created a feeling of true freedom, and the “wind of change” was spinning! And things got better!
Now, walking along the monastery paths, seeing the slender temple buildings, golden domes with shining crosses, it is difficult to imagine what was here 20 years ago. The temple in which the services were held is Vvedensky. Kazansky and Mary of Egypt are half-destroyed. The work ahead was enormous! After all, until recently there was an “Agricultural Technical School” on the territory of the monastery. And I remember what Optina was like, because... in 1973, a bus tour with an enticing name showed us everything: “Tsiolkovsky’s Kaluga, Dostoevsky’s Optina Pustyn.” Yes... There was a literary museum in the monastery, and in the Vvedensky Cathedral the guys worked on turning, milling and some other machines; in Kazansky, a tractor drove right through the opening of the altar. Well, in the Refectory there was a club with cinema and dancing. That's how it was...
And now. 1990 and everything around has changed. This is the result of the active, selfless work of many people who came to Optina at the call of their hearts.
I really wanted to work together with everyone, but I understood that my contribution was the publication in the Psychological Journal of materials that would contribute to the revival of spirituality in society. In order for Optina monks to participate in the preparation of such materials, it was necessary to obtain permission from Archimandrite Eulogius.
Holy Gates, photo from the early 1990s.
I was very worried because I saw how busy the Optina inhabitants were.
I thought that Father Evlogy would not be able to help me: he simply had many more important things to do.
I confessed, took communion, prayed to St. Ambrose of Optina and went to Archimandrite Eulogius. And I still remember everything that happened next as a miracle!
Father Evlogii received me very cordially and was not at all surprised by the request for help in working for the magazine, but, on the contrary, said that he understood how important and timely such publications would be. He invited me to come tomorrow and promised to find me assistants.
The next day, Father Evlogii introduced me to his assistants - Hieromonk Ipatiy (Khvostenko), Hierodeacon Vasily (Roslyakov) and novice Evgeniy Lukyanov - and explained why he chose them for this work. He noted their knowledge of the basics of patristic teachings and their ability to clearly present Orthodox dogmas. Special words were said about Father Vasily: a graduate of the Faculty of Journalism of Moscow State University, even before the opening of Optina Pustyn he had a desire to work in an Orthodox magazine.
Father Vasily himself said that he gladly accepted the offer to collaborate in the new section of the “Psychological Journal” and is ready to give his knowledge to the benefit of such a good undertaking: bringing to the scientific audience a thoroughly forgotten patristic tradition. And I realized that we would succeed in our plan.
Hieromonk Vasily (Roslyakov). Conversations with pilgrims.
Archimandrite Eulogius noted how such educational work in an academic journal is important and timely, and proposed, as the first publication, to discuss some of the issues raised in the work of Archbishop Luke (Voino-Yasenetsky, not yet glorified at that time) “Spirit, Soul, Body.” Next, the father governor advised us to go to the library, allowed me to use books and blessed us all for our work, saying that he would expect us in two days with a report. We went to the library, discussing the name of the new section along the way. Father Hypatius suggested: “Christian anthropology.” Father Vasily did not agree: “Too scientific.” Evgeniy and I asked to take into account “spiritual experience.” So far nothing has worked.
When we entered the library and saw empty shelves and piles of books on the floor, Father Vasily said: “Well, now we will look for “treasures of spiritual experience” - which became the name of the section.
Now we had to find Archbishop Luke’s book “Spirit, Soul, Body.” But, alas, what we found could not be called a book: in a paper folder there was a stack of thin sheets of typewritten text with omissions and errors, in some places even without page numbering.
To be honest, I thought I should switch to something else. But Father Vasily decided that it was too early to cry. “We need to pull ourselves together, tremble and concentrate!” - these are his words. We did just that and made a plan for working with this “book”, highlighting the chapter: “Brain and Spirit. Spirit in nature." Father Vasily suggested starting with a short biographical sketch of the scholar-theologian Archbishop Luke and promised to quickly prepare it. We perked up again, but not for long—it was impossible to collect the text of the book. Father Vasily suggested looking among the books scattered on the floor for something in return, and going to the father-vicar with a new option. He believed that much useful could be gleaned from little-known instructions and teachings from the handwritten heritage of the Optina elders and ascetics of piety.
Father Vasily summed up the results of our search, and we decided that we were ready to go to the father governor with a report.
The next day we gathered again in the library. Both Father Vasily and novice Evgeniy (also a graduate of Moscow State University, a physicist) suggested considering as an option Gogol’s text “On those mental dispositions and shortcomings of ours that create confusion in us and prevent us from being in calm state", previously completely unpublished.
Archimandrite Evlogii listened to us carefully, looked with regret at the folder with the text “Spirit, Soul, Body” and agreed with the opinion expressed by Father Vasily regarding the preparation for publication of Gogol’s text.
Thus, the issue of the first publication in the Psychological Journal was resolved. Here's what happened: title of the section: “Treasures of spiritual experience”; an introduction with justification for the publications that we wrote with Father Vasily; text by N.V. Gogol, published in full for the first time; comments by philologist V.A. Voropaev, psychologist V.A. Eliseeva; and, most importantly, the participation of the Optina heritage - the opinion of Father Ipaty and novice Eugene. (PZh, vol. 12, no. 3 1991).
So, with the help of the monks of the Optina Monastery and with the blessing of the father-vicar, we worked together for almost 3 years. 7 materials were published.
In 1990, together with Father Vasily, Father Ipatiy and novice Evgeniy, he compiled long-term plan future publications. The goal of our efforts is to provide an opportunity to learn Christian anthropology more fully and deeply. Therefore, the plan included fragments from the unpublished work of Archbishop Luke “Spirit, Soul, Body”, from the work of St. Theophan the Recluse “The Path to Salvation”, which had not been republished since 1908, from the works of St. Ignatius Brianchaninov “Ascetic Experiences”, the patristic heritage of Isaac the Syrian, Gregory of Sinaite, Nile of Sora, as well as little-known instructions and teachings from the handwritten heritage of the Optina elders.
Active work began in Moscow. Together with Evgeny Lukyanov, we tried to follow the plan.
When Father Evlogii was ordained Bishop of Vladimir and Suzdal, we, on the advice of Father Vasily, went to him in Vladimir to show the first results of the work begun with his help. Blah this is in 1991. Vladyka received us with a smile, approving the general idea of the first publication, “The Key to the Soul of Man,” based on Gogol’s text, and gave good instructions for further work.
And Father Vasily and I continued to cooperate. In PJ No. 6, volume 12, 1991, the material “Three sides of spiritual life” was published according to the teachings of St. Theophan the Recluse. When we were preparing comments on the text, Father Vasily emphasized how important for publication in the “Psychological Journal” the revelations of St. Theophan about the desire to create a section - religious psychology, because the program of this psychology was supposed to reflect the composition of human nature.
In 1992, we were again in Optina Pustyn, attending a water prayer service in the monastery. Then, together with Father Vasily and novice Evgeniy, we discuss possible options for “Treasures of Spiritual Experience.” Then Father Vasily suggested turning to the works of famous Orthodox philosophers N.A. Berdyaev, I.A. Ilyina, I.M. Andreeva. As before, his advice was very reasonable, and the work turned out to be interesting.
The water-blessing prayer service in the Skete is performed by Abbot Ilian (Nozdrin, now Schema-Archimandrite Iliy). On the right is Hierodeacon Vasily (Roslyakov)
We walked for a long time around the monastery garden, admiring the phlox and chrysanthemum flowers. Father Vasily, usually reserved and taciturn, smiled and said that surrounded by such beauty, peace and kindness, he felt able to be useful and was glad that novice Evgeniy and I shared his views. We thanked him for his participation in the work for the magazine and told us that, on his advice, we were preparing for publication an essay “On the psychological nature of moral feeling” (based on the works of Professor N.M. Andreev). Father Vasily said that he is always happy to help us in word and deed; but asked, as before, not to include him among the authors. We walked for a long time along the paths of the garden, sat on a bench near the belfry. Father Vasily suggested returning to the work of Archbishop Luke “Spirit, Soul, Body”, because The complete book has finally come out of print, and we will be able to fulfill what we promised to Vladyka Eulogius at the very beginning of our work in the section “Treasures of Spiritual Experience.”
But who could have known that this was our last conversation!
Procession on Easter 1993. Last hours life o. Vasily.
In the “Psychological Journal” No. 4 for 1993, material prepared together with Father Vasily was published on the works of N.M. Andreeva. The publication was completed by the words of Bishop Evlogii, dedicated to the memory of Hieromonk Vasily: “A monstrous crime on Easter night 1993 cut short the life of one of the best confessors and preachers of Optina Pustyn. The consolation for our grief can be the hope that the light of his life will shine forever, warming our souls with kindness, faith and love.
Funeral service for the murdered Optina brethren. 1993 Vvedensky Cathedral of Optina Pustyn.
Chapel at the burial site of the murdered Optina brethren
Interior view of the chapel
Photo from site optina.ru
Natalia SHALASHNIKOVA, Neskuchny Sad magazine
Film from the series "SAINTS". "Monks Condemned to Death" (2010)
Movie information
Name: THE SAINTS
original name: Monks sentenced to death
Released: 2010
Genre: Documentary series
Director: Denis Krasilnikov
Leading: Ilya Mikhailov-Sobolevsky
Expert: Arkady Tarasov
About the film: The investigative documentary series “Saints” will tell about the amazing destinies of people whose lives are still shrouded in an aura of mystery. Leading programs - candidate historical sciences Arkady Tarasov and journalist Ilya Mikhailov-Sobolevsky find amazing facts biographies of Russian saints, communicate with relatives and eyewitnesses of the miracles they performed and visit holy places. On the Easter holiday of 1993, on the territory of Optina Pustyn, triple murder. At the crime scene, investigators found weapons - a homemade sword and a dagger with the numbers 666. Despite the passing of years, many questions remain in this case. The host of the program, Ilya Mikhailov-Sobolevsky, conducts his own investigation into this mysterious crime. He is trying to find out who needed to kill the bell ringer and two monks? And why are the people who died glorified as saints?
WHO DIED FOR THE FAITH
Movie information
Name: WHO DIED FOR THE FAITH
Original name: Those who died for their faith. Optina New Martyrs
Released: 2010
Genre: Documentary
A country: Russia
Director: Dmitry Martynov
Production: TV channel "NTV"
About the film:
The film tells about the clergy killed in Russia. Over the past 20 years, 26 priests and two monks have been killed. There are no such statistics anywhere in the world. The murder of clergy is not only a crime against the law, but to a greater extent it is a crime against God. And when the Church canonizes the martyrs, simple people they are losing the brightest and purest people.
First high-profile crime against the clergy new Russia happened on September 9, 1990, when Archpriest Alexander Men was killed on the path to the Semkhoz railway station. April 18, 1993 in Optina Pustyn immediately after Easter service a resident of a neighboring village, disguised as a pilgrim, entered the monastery and fatally stabbed three monks: monks Ferapont and Trofim and hieromonk Vasily. And on November 19, 2009, in the Moscow Church of the Apostle Thomas on Kantemirovskaya Street, an unknown person in a mask shot the rector Daniil Sysoev. In the late 80s, Daniel was one of the first clergy to come to Optina Pustyn. Together with Father Vasily, they began to raise the monastery and together received the crown of martyrdom - with a difference of sixteen years...
Easter 1993 in Optina Pustyn began, as usual, with the Easter Midnight Office, followed by procession in St. John the Baptist monastery. The service ended at six o'clock in the morning, and the brethren went to break their fast in the refectory. After the meal, the monks Trofim and Ferapont returned to the monastery belfry to proclaim to all people the joy of the Risen Christ. Literally ten minutes later the Easter bell stopped. The inhabitants who ran out in the pre-dawn twilight saw two monks on the platform of the belfry. Both lay motionless. The third was Hieromonk Vasily, who was on his way to confess the pilgrims at the skete Liturgy, which began at six in the morning... One of the pilgrims saw a man in an overcoat running up to the bell ringers. Traces were found on the roof of the barn, located near the eastern wall of the monastery; an overcoat was lying next to the barn. When she was picked up, inside saw a small dagger. The blade was shiny. There was a feeling of some kind of unreality: the killer could not have had time to wipe it until it shined, and why would he need it? But then, under the wall of a wooden two-story outbuilding, between the barn and the monastery tower, they found a huge bloody sword...
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STORY FROM LIFE.... "SUCH IS LIFE!" READ! OPEN THE WHOLE TOPIC, MY DEARS! Baba Manya decided to die. It was Friday, lunchtime, after sipping a millet kulesha and washing it down with milk, she wiped her mouth with her apron, looking through the glass of the kitchen window into the distance and said in an ordinary, colorless voice: “Valkya!” Paslya will die tomorrow, on Sunday, right before mass. Her daughter Valentina, moving pots on the stove, froze for a moment, then suddenly, with her whole body, turned around to face her mother and sat down on a stool, holding a rag in her hands: “What are you thinking of?” - And time ran out, everything tapericha, lived, waking up. Help me wash, get new clothes from my mortal coil. Well, this pasture we will discuss with you who to bury, who to wake up, who to dig a grave for me, while there is time. - Is it necessary to inform everyone so that they have time to come and say goodbye? - Yes, I must inform you, I will speak with your name. - Do you want to tell me everything finally? It's true, let them know. The old woman shook her head in agreement and, leaning on her daughter’s hand, trotted off to her bed. She was small, withered, her face was like a baked apple, all covered in wrinkles, her eyes were lively and sparkling. The hair is sparse, grey, smoothly combed, gathered in a bun at the back of the head, picked up by a comb and tucked under a white cotton scarf. Although she had not done housework for a long time, she put on an apron out of habit, putting her tired hands on it, with large hands and fingers, as if rolled out with a rolling pin, short and wide. She was eighty-nine years old. And just like that, she was about to die. - Mom! I’ll go to the post office and give you telegrams, how are you? - Nothing, nothing, go with God. Left alone, Baba Manya became thoughtful. Her thoughts took her far, to her youth. Here she is sitting with Stepan over the river, gnawing on a blade of grass, he smiles at her tenderly. I remembered my wedding. Small, pretty, in a light crepe-satin dress, the bride came out into the circle and let’s dance with the flow to the accordion. The mother-in-law, seeing her son’s chosen one, then said: “What good is such a person on the farm, she’s too small, and will she even give birth?” She didn't guess. Masha turned out to be hardworking and resilient. In the field, in the garden, she worked on par with everyone else, you can’t keep up with her, she earned many workdays, she was a shock worker, a leader. They began to build the house, she was Stepan’s first assistant to give it – to bring it – to support it. She and her husband lived together in perfect harmony, as they say. A year later, already in a new house, Masha gave birth to a daughter, Valyushka. My daughter was four years old and we were thinking about having a second child when the war began. Stepan was called up in the very first days. Remembering his farewell to the front, Baba Manya sighed convulsively, crossed herself, wiping her wet eyes with her apron: “My dear Falcon, how much I grieved for you, how many tears I shed!” The kingdom of heaven and eternal peace! See you soon, just wait a little! Her thoughts were interrupted by her returning daughter. She did not come alone, but with a local paramedic who treated almost the entire village. - How are you here, Baba Manya, are you sick? - It’s okay, I’m not complaining yet. He listened to the old woman, measured her blood pressure, even set a thermometer, everything was normal. Before leaving, the paramedic took Valentina aside and said in a low voice: “Apparently the vital resource has been depleted.” It hasn't been proven by science, but it seems that old people can sense when they're going to pass away. Be strong and get ready slowly. What do you want - age! On Saturday, Valentina bathed her mother in the bathhouse, dressed her in everything clean, and she lay down on the freshly made bed, fixing her eyes on the ceiling, as if trying on the upcoming state. After lunch, the children began to arrive. Ivan, a heavyset, plump, bald man, noisily entered the house and brought in a bag of gifts. Vasily and Mikhail, two twin brothers, dark-skinned, black-haired, with hooked noses, appeared on the threshold, having arrived together by car from the city, looking anxiously into their sister’s eyes, saying, how is she? Tonya, who had grown very fat, with a complacent face characteristic of fat people, got there by regular bus from a neighboring area, where she lived with her family. And the last one, already in the late afternoon, arrived by taxi from the station by train - Nadezhda, slender, red-haired, school director from the regional center. With anxious faces, blowing their noses into handkerchiefs, wiping away tears, they entered the house, immediately going to their mother, who seemed small and helpless on the big bed, kissed her and, holding her hand, asked, looking with hidden hope into her eyes: “Mom, what are you up to?” You'll live, you're strong with us. “I was, but I’m all gone,” Baba Manya answered and sighed, pursing her lips. “Take some rest, we’ll talk tomorrow, don’t be afraid, I won’t die before mass.” The children walked away from their mother doubtfully, discussing pressing issues with each other. All of them, in general, are not young anymore, they also often joked and were glad that Valentina lived with her mother all the time and they could be calm about her. Arriving at my mother’s, out of long-established habit, we began to help with the housework. Everything here was familiar and familiar to them, the home of their childhood. Mikhail and Vasily chopped wood and stored it under the shed, Ivan carried water from the pump into a barrel, Antonina went to feed the cattle, and Valentina and Nadezhda started dinner. Then in the kitchen, gathered around a large table, Baba Mani’s children were talking in low voices, and she, staring at the white ceiling, saw her life on a screen. It was hard during the war, cold, harsh and hungry. I went to the field in the spring, picked out small frozen black potatoes left over from the fall, grated them and fried potato pancakes. Fortunately, I found a small bottle with linseed oil. Once upon a time, even before the war, after the steam room I lubricated my rough feet. Lucky! I started adding it drop by drop to the frying pan. And she took care of the small supply of potatoes that was in the cellar and did not touch it. As the warm May days set in, I planted them almost with my eyes; I couldn’t afford more, as I felt that the war would drag on and the bitterness would still sip. She collected wild garlic, sorrel, quinoa, and nettles, all of which were used for food. I made alterations for the kids from my own, and when, a year after the start of the war, I received a funeral for Stepan, I made some from his things too. “What are you doing here, such a life!” interrupting the flow of her memories, Baba Manya sighed heavily. Closer to autumn, she dug up potatoes, boiled them and filled the pots, insulating them with old scarves, grabbing lightly salted cucumbers, green onions, and walked five miles to the junction station to exchange them with the trains for other products and things. Missing home-cooked food, those passing by were willing to change. When the military personnel, you see, get some stew, lard, and even a piece of sugar, everything is a joy for the children. They are thin, pale, and greet their mother with hope in their eyes. Somehow, towards the end of the war, Masha decided to buy a goat. She rummaged through the chests and, taking out the sacrosanct - her husband's new Boston suit and her crepe dress, she cried over them, added silver earrings with turquoise and a picture of swans swimming on the lake, and gave all this wealth for a young and obstinate goat. Now her children had milk, how good it was! A month later, the guys were noticeably happier, a blush appeared on their cheeks. Yes, she suffered a lot alone with the children. Either there were problems at school or illnesses overcame me. Vasyatka fell ill with chickenpox and infected everyone. And laughter and sin, full house like frogs of spotted, green-streaked children. Whoever breaks a leg will get his head hurt in a fight, my heart ached for everyone. I remembered how the war ended, and the front-line soldiers returned, her boys began to swear with obscenities, and smoke shag on the sly, behind the barns. I had to show character. She tricked Vanya, Vaska and Misha into entering the bathhouse, as if they needed help, locked her from the inside and fed her tobacco and caustic samosad. They screamed and spat, but since then I haven’t noticed anyone smoking. And where to go if there is no husband? I was afraid for them, passion! Either Vanechka got lost in the forest, the whole village searched for the whole day, then Tosya almost drowned when she got into a whirlpool on the river, and they barely managed to get Misha with appendicitis to the hospital, but they left without dying. And again, sighing convulsively, I thought: - Such a life! Years passed, the children grew up. Men wooed Masha, they were quite worthy, but how can you tell the children? One day I started a conversation with them, and the guys unanimously said: “Why is there a man in the house?” We obey, we help in everything, and we feel good and friendly? How can you tell them that you yearn for a man’s affection, that you want to be weak and dependent, that you don’t have the strength to carry everything on your shoulders, at least shift some of the problems, hide behind your back? strong man when it's bad. But other thoughts immediately came to mind: “Suddenly he starts to bully the children, he’s crazy!” she agreed with this thought. And as they began to grow up, they came into their own time, just hold on! Sleepless nights at the window, waiting for their date, she wiped away the bitter tears of disappointment from her chosen ones: “Don’t cry too hard, I won’t give you far, even for a chicken, but on your street,” hugging Nadyushka, who was suffering from unrequited love, by the shoulders, trying to console her mother with a humorous saying, “ Why grieve, my daughter, everything will grind, it’s a pain to wake up. And then the boys, one after another, went to serve in the army, she saw her off, remembering the war, and cried. But, Thank God, everyone returned alive, stronger. Her children got married, got married and flew away from the nest; only Valentina did not arrange her destiny, she remained with her mother. - That's how she lives! Of course, there were joys in their family, where without them. She raised her children as worthy people and they all have golden hands. Isn't this joy? I was proud of them. With her eyelids closed, Baba Manya lay quietly, her thoughts lulled her to sleep, they stopped disturbing and frightening her with terrible pictures from distant life and she fell asleep to the quiet conversation of her children, who continued to discuss something in the kitchen. The next morning, after breakfast, everyone gathered around their mother. To make her comfortable, they placed a couple of pillows under her back. Looking around the children with a gaze, as if deciding on something, Baba Manya spoke: “Forgive me for God’s sake, if something is wrong, timid.” I say so that there is no anger or resentment left. Life is friendly among each other, help if you have any questions. I'm going to die soon. Everyone, at the same time, indignant at her words, waved their hands, but the mother categorically stopped them: Wanting, not wanting, but as the Lord says, so wake up. There was silence. Shifting her gaze from one to the other, Baba Manya began her story in a quiet voice: “Once at the beginning of the war, in the winter, Valyushka and I were sitting in the hut, on the stove, Yana and saying: “Mother, come on, knock on the door and shout.” htoy - that. I went and looked. Fathers - lights! The baby grouse lies down on the rubble and screams, but there’s no one nearby. I looked and looked, fiercely, it was freezing on the street, and I took Iago into the hut. Hungry, blue boy. I made Zhvanik from bread into a rag, gave him some warm water, and fell asleep. The mother was never found. We named the child Vanyatka. You turned out to be smart. Then, where - that year in forty-two, a hard winter, frosty, at the junction station, driving the shelon, I look, a girl about a year old sits down for her, consider her like my Valkya. Sitting on the knots, but there is no mother. I waited with her for two hours, but she didn’t show up. I asked around here and there, no one bothered. And that little girl froze her cheeks and her cheeks began to blanch. I wonder what his name is, he breaks down in tears and remains silent. Later it turned out - Tonya. Smart girl, kind. - And in 1943 they tied the kids in a half-cart to a village. They said the Germans bombed the column, and they were stuck in the rear. “Who’s to take, there are about two dozen left, they’ve dismantled them in other villages, the women taking pity on the children!” shout the chairman. And who wakes them up to take them, there is nothing to feed their own. I look at them sitting like two identical sparrows, twins, huddled close to each other, about two or three years old, waking them up. The eyes are huge, crying. I say to the chairman: “Let’s write me down, Vasyatka and Mikha, they will be mine, we’ll endure it, no matter what.” This is life for the robots. The boys were friendly and stuck together. After a short silence, after taking a breath, Baba Manya continued: “And Nadeika - I took her away from her drunken mother.” It’s a pity that the woman started drinking out of grief because the man died. She dragged herself and dragged her to drinking parties and taverns. And when I took the girl, she disappeared. They said she slept and died. The little grief sipped, my soul thawed, but it was time to heal. There was a ringing silence in the room; Baba Mani’s children sat, looking at each other, not knowing what to say, still comprehending what they had heard. “I’ll go, I’m tired, I’ll take a little sleep,” Baba Manya decided, ending the conversation. - Mommy, how is it? “We didn’t know!” everyone began to shout in one voice. “Go, go now,” Baba Manya insisted. It seemed that she was embarrassed, she was embarrassed to hear words of gratitude from the children, their perplexed questions. Everyone went into the kitchen, began to discuss what they had heard from the mother, share their impressions after what was said, remember what had been worn away over the years, some memory prompts, sensations. They did not feel like strangers, they felt warm and comfortable in this house and their childhood was happy. And if questions arose about life, then the mother definitely always suppressed them with the words: “All mine, dear ones, as one.” Don't fool me, mind your business. The bell was rung in the church bell tower, calling the people to mass. Valentina quietly, on tiptoe, went into her mother’s room, wanting to cover her with a warmer blanket. She was lying wide with open eyes looking at the ceiling, a happy smile froze on his calm face. She died. Elena Chistyakova Shmatko
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