We enter the Assumption Gate. The windows of the cathedral are already glowing. Those who are going to confess in the morning huddle up to the steps of the Church of the Baptist. At this early hour, there are fewer people, and there is less bustle. Usually a lot of visiting archpriests serve. At the head is one of the Lavra archimandrites. The seminarians sing, which is also an integral part of the Lavra celebration, although later there will be a service with a mixed choir. Here, on such a day, you don't want to hear him at all. In church, especially during Communion, there is inevitable movement, conversations. This, of course, interferes, but it also pleases: people have come to the Venerable, people are drawn to the feast, the feast is inseparable from communion, and thank God – there is a place to come.

After an early one, we go to the train. I have a dream: to be in silence, in nature, that is, to get out into the forest. I quickly drink tea and go to the Losinoostrovsky Nature Reserve. There I am looking for unknown lands. Suddenly I find a lonely road along which I walk for an hour - and not a soul. Unspeakable beauty! Silence. Souls, of course, exist, but they do not meet often, they walk on their own, not disturbing anyone. One of the people he met asked what the nearest railway station was. From him I learned that this is the territory of the hospital complex. The path is asphalted, the forest is nearby (although it is very damp), there is a turn to the Yaroslavl highway ahead. It seemed to me that this highway was very close, but I had to walk several kilometers to get to it. It's even more desolate here. Here, indeed, I did not come across a soul. I walk and rejoice in the clear day, the clean forest, the desolation and... daisies. Live, large daisies, which miraculously survived at this time. Frosts are about to hit, so you can't pass by and not pick up a bouquet. The road goes around the concrete slabs of a blind fence, which is guarded by barbed wire. Behind the fence, presumably, a military unit. The barbed wire is somehow uncomfortable. Residential box houses appeared, I casually looked around and read: "Possession N... Passage and passage are prohibited." If I had met such an inscription at the turn, I would have preferred to return, but there was nothing, there was no one. That is why the daisies survived, and the walkers were not visible, and it was deserted, desolate, quiet. You can't go another time, but when I didn't know any of this, it was good. It is very good, as if they were invited to heaven for a short time for the sake of the feast of the Venerable. This forest is familiar to him, because this road is Yaroslavl Highway - Troitskaya. By it or somewhere close to it, the Monk himself went to Moscow more than once, thousands of pilgrims came to him for centuries. They went with prayer, with repentance, with hope. On the way, the turbidity of worldly cares settled, the soul rested, and was strengthened. Hope in the nearness of the monk, his prayers, his protection multiplied strength and patience. And we, thank God, could visit the Lavra for a service, and even take our souls away with a journey into the world of beauty in the bosom of nature. And the day was unusually bright, joyful, a golden day of late autumn, warm and gentle.

And in the evening it was possible to go to the Donskoy Monastery, where Patriarch Tikhon would be especially remembered. His memory is celebrated on the second day of the Sergius feast.

The Small Cathedral, dedicated to the Don Icon of the Mother of God, like the Large Cathedral, became better known as the Sergius Cathedral. This has happened more than once in history. The feast of St. Sergius is honored there, and many of those who have been prevented from going to the Lavra by circumstances gather there. On a festive evening, although attention has already shifted to St. Tikhon, the memory of the monk does not yet recede, it coexists. And St. Tikhon loved the Venerable, loved the Lavra, ached in his soul when it was closed, tried to do everything he could; But there are periods in the life of a person and an entire society when all that remains is to endure and repent. And of course, pray that the Lord would strengthen faith and kindle hope in the soul.

Unfortunately, the Small Cathedral was closed that day. They say that there are repairs. All the same, it was good to visit this ancient monastery, to rejoice that it had been returned to the Church, to stand and listen to the Vigil, thanking the Lord and His saints for the great blessing of being in the Church.

Feast of the Venerable

July 18, 1996

Lavra! As always, it stands like a living miracle on our land, rising above all the vanity of life with the aspiration of golden crosses to the sky. The Lavra is a place of feats and prayers of the Venerable, a place sanctified by the blessing of the Mother of God. By this, first of all, in an invisible way, it attracts its Abbot to this day. And it may well be that the vanity of life, human weaknesses and general spiritual weakness have not escaped the modern inhabitants (I do not assert, but only admit), but the image of the founder itself does not carry anything of the kind. Thank God! He, most of all himself, draws the hearts of numerous pilgrims to his Lavra. Perhaps someone wanted to feel himself in the midst of pilgrims, to feel the unknown, but the same seekers, someone wanted to pray especially fervently for his sore point, who wanted anything, but any desire was invariably connected with the image of the Venerable. And this is the main thing. The Lavra is full of it, and what is more than that is from the evil one.

We are glad that the Trinity Cathedral is open in the evening. Open to the public. It is no longer possible to approach the reliquary of the Venerable, but it is possible to sneak into a corner and listen to the vigil. I will not talk about the guests who flew in from different directions (including from America – Metropolitan TheodosiusCXL, members of the Jacobite Church of the CXLI, not counting the bishops of our country, which stretches for many thousands of kilometers) – this will be reported by the JMP. More precious is the fact that in a corner of the ancient church, the glow of candles and lamps brings the memory of loving souls to the monk. It has become more difficult for many to get here, and the roads are expensive, and there is more trouble because of the stupid divisions into "foreign" Orthodox Christians from Ukraine, Belarus and other "countries" of the former Soviet Union. And even here you cannot count on any minimum conditions, except for a corner on the floor in the church at night and a sip of water from the Sergiev spring. For the sake of fairness, it must be said that now pilgrims are fed under the Refectory Church. We did not go there, because we are "not far", only 70 kilometers to our capital. We are ashamed to join the really hungry and distant, who came from different parts of the country. And yet there are a lot of people. In the Trinity Church, when they approached the Venerable One, many people had to wring out their clothes, in the Dormition Church there were a lot of people, in the Refectory Church it was smaller, but it was not empty either. And in the Church of the Intercession of the Theological Academy there were people, also almost a full church, although without a stampede.

In the evening, many stayed for confession. The general "word" before confession did not sound as we would have liked, but... It is possible to repent, they listened to everyone. In the morning we were about to go to the Dormition Church, we had already arrived, sat down on the approach against the wall until the clock began, but seeing that a mixed choir was approaching, we quickly went to the Refectory Church. Even if he sings correctly, the sound of this choir turns the Lavra church into a parish. Perhaps this is not true, but I can't help it. Is it a habit, or are these concepts... But give me a male choir here! In the refectory, the students of the Theological Schools sang not as powerfully as at the vigil of the Venerable One in the Trinity Monastery, but quite appropriately. The service was led by His Holiness. Liturgy was held as usual on such days. Father Andronik came out to preach a sermon. He spoke competently, even interestingly, in terms of posing the question: he emphasized that the monk is an expression of the highest degree of likeness of the human soul to God, set in the Old Testament as the goal of human strivings. When it sounded: "Let us go out in peace" – and then the prayer, we went out into the square, which since yesterday evening had been fenced off with iron prefabricated bars, which I always and everywhere terribly dislike! This idea is unpleasant: bars, police. They blocked off such a space that you can not even hear a prayer service. Thank God, they arranged "technical assistance" - now it will be heard in every corner. In Uspensky, the service was not over yet. The clergy headed by thirteen bishops came out of the Refectory Church, and from the Trinity Church (it was said that a total of forty bishops would take part in the celebrations) they were waiting for the Patriarch and his co-concelebrants. The loud protodeacon sings "I believe." The microphone amplifies his powerful voice, and the singing of the Symbol of Faith wakes up everyone – praying and simply curious, attracted by the rumor of the Lavra's feast. After the stuffiness of the temple, it is even cool in the expanse of the square in front of the chapel. The breeze rises, carries away the warmth of the sun's rays, generously pouring from the clear, clear, high blue sky. Yesterday's downpour washed away every leaf on the trees and shrubs. The sky, white light clouds, greenery, buildings are amazingly good together. Here, nearby, now. And when the bell tower sounded, when the tall, full-length image of St. Sergius was carried out of the Dormition Cathedral, when all the clergy shone with the brocade of vestments, the golden glare of the casings, ripides, mitres, then even the most indifferent person standing here could not deny that beauty is a great power, life-giving and life-giving. This was confirmed by the swallows chirping over this meeting. These young animals enjoyed life. There are many of them here. If only one more thing – not a mixed, but a childish choir – and you couldn't wish for anything better!

And yet this is an unceasing miracle – the Lavra of St. Sergius! When people talk about grace in the crowd (they crumple their sides, a person gets out barely alive – what grace!), then it is impossible not to say with a certain amount of sadness: grace must also be able to open the soul, so that it does not be like asphalt or an iron roof, on which the rain will run down without changing anything. As in the Gospel: the road is compacted, the hollows are overgrown with weeds, here and there hummocks with a thin layer of earth and good, cultivated land. Only a quarter of the total area is suitable for sowing. We would like grace everywhere and a ready-made miraculous result without work and patience. What will we take to our lands when we leave the Lavra? Will the soul be full of gratitude and determination to change itself for the better, so that the image of the Venerable One shines even brighter with rays of invisible light and life becomes more serious and strict?

On Paremias on the Day of Remembrance of St. Sergius of Radonezh