We stood for all-night vigil in the Church of the Intercession. As if to confirm the words of the stichera: "There are many monks...", there were more monks among the servants – fifteen (and nine from the white clergy). The guys sing well, but the choir has noticeably thinned out (the best forces at that moment are in Germany).

As always, we hurry to the train in order to be in time for the beginning of confession in the morning, that is, for seven. We got up long before dawn and arrived even before the opening of the gates (to the Academic Church). Through the bars it was seen how the priest went out to confess, but there was not a soul there. All our souls stood in a dense crowd at the bars. The sluggish duty officer barely moved with the keys. Finally, he opened the coveted gate, not thinking to apologize for making so many people worry in vain. The old women ran to confession.. General confession was conducted by Father Rostislav, four more priests approached. Everyone hurried to the lecterns, because they had already begun to read the hours, they would not wait for us, and downstairs, where confession was being held, the service was not heard. The Liturgy was served by the same bishops as the All-Night Vigil: Metropolitan Philaret CXXXII, Archimandrite Simon and Rector Vladyka AlexanderCXXXIII. Yes, Fr. Nikon came out to preach at all-night vigil. He spoke freely, but if you know that he is a historian, then you want to hear a clearer, more specific sermon, in which it would be said that St. Sergius is not just a miracle sent by God into the world, torn apart by fear, pain, distrust of each other, the eternal fear of the physical destruction not only of each individual, but also of the entire settlement, city, region, even country... No, he did not say the main thing, just as Father Vladimir K. did not say it in his sermon, who spoke bravo, not embarrassed by inaccuracies and even distortion of facts. For example, he said that the monk went to the forests from a prosperous life in the boyar's family. But it was not because of a good life that the parents of the monk left Rostov and moved to modest Radonezh, but because of the oppression of the voivode. Not from whims or on a whim, the boyar's son went to save himself in a remote forest side, when it was possible to go to a monastery in the capital, but from an inner urge to resume the feat. During the years of Tatar rule, the fear of ruin, disaster, and uncertainty about the future deprived people of the most ordinary sense of reliability of the land on which they lived. And young Bartholomew goes to the deep forest, away from all roads and villages, so that he can think about the soul, about God, about prayer. Think without flinching at every rustle. Of course, there were difficulties, and very significant ones, but the first thing was to choose conditions that would help to pray at least to some extent, without sighing,73 as the Apostle warns, so that the soul could surrender to God without looking back. The Monk Abba felt that the podvig of mental activity should not be completely forgotten in Russia, that prayerful sobriety should be the basis of all spiritual feats. The traditions of spiritual attention to the patristic experience were interrupted by the barbarian invasion, but they were not completely eradicated. St. Sergius had to revive them, to return spiritual needs to their former place. And it is no coincidence that quite soon a brotherhood was formed around him. Those who came felt in communion with the Monk that peace and stability that are needed for life like air. Not everything was easy for the brethren. There is a flaw in everything. And even in like-mindedness. Everyone wanted help from the Monk, but not everyone knew how and wanted to reckon with each other. Years of fear, distrust, and the desire to escape from misfortune put on the souls of the Monk's contemporaries a stamp of tension, constraint, and isolation. Had it not been for this, the chronicler would not have noted that the brethren did not at all desire the coenobitic rule, which was recommended to the Monk Patriarch CXXXIV. He could have learned about the ascetic from the future Metropolitan Alexis. The brethren were in no hurry to share the last crumb with each other, otherwise it would have happened that one had not eaten for three days (and who was the abbot of the monastery!), and the other's bread turned green from dampness. Not in one day it could turn into such a slice that mold spores rose in smoke. No, it was never easy for the monk in the silence of his solitude. And it was not for the sake of special glory that the Lord consoled His saint even with a vision of birds, but with this He answered the many days and, probably, long night prayers for the brethren, which the monk lifted up to God with spiritual pain. Only the lover is sick in his soul for others, despite the lack of their love and understanding; only God can console such a soul, and only by prayer will one stand and hold the others. This is not speculation, but the natural result of assumptions that arise by themselves when one thinks about the facts preserved by the chronicler. Had the brotherhood of the Monk Sergius been unanimous and sincerely honoring its abbot, Stephen could not have opened his mouth about his primacy in the monastery. It is important to understand all this not for the condemnation of the brethren, but as the conditions of life of the monk, always difficult. And his path and the path of his disciples, who went to other lands, no less desolate, to live in solitude could not be easy. They did not think that they were carrying the light of podvig into the deep wilds of the North, but each one went, apparently knowing in his soul that he had to go. The Northern Thebaid was created by students – the best! — St. Sergius. It was they, bearing in mind his example, who awakened in people a thirst for podvig, a desire to live according to God's commandments and not to think only about material well-being. It is without holiness in life, without the light of Christ, like a body without a soul. Neither Father Nikon nor Father Vladimir said anything of the kind.

The Lavra, of course, is crowded. And thank God! They are drawn to the Reverend! They love him.

After the service, I want so much... into the forest. Into the atmosphere beloved by the Venerable. In the forest, it is good to wander along barely noticeable paths, to be surprised and rejoice at the beauty of the earth, it is even easier to gather your thoughts, to start from everything worldly. If only he could learn to pray! Sometimes there is time, and the forest beckons through the window of the train, but it is impossible to get in... We must accept this calmly, accept it as a lesson and an exercise. And it is better not to think about what is impossible now, but to thank God for what we have. Especially for the Church! Many do not have this, and not to have it is such a deprivation, which has no equal, as well as life itself. Thank God for everything!

* * *

A few words about the festive evening. There was the same feast, the same service, therefore, avoiding repetitions, I want to say only about the evening. In the Trinity Cathedral, the all-night vigil ended, we went to the Assumption Cathedral. Singing came from the open high windows. It filled everything around, it was heard even in the most remote part of the territory, behind the Church of the Smolensk Icon of the Mother of God. It began to get dark. One star flashed almost at the horizon on the northwest side and seemed to melt. The evening is warm and the wind is warm. There are few people, everyone stands in churches or sits on benches around the Assumption Cathedral. The aroma of matthiol wafted from somewhere. It is associated with the idea of something unrealizable and beautiful, when there is nothing to desire. And here, now, slowly walking along the path lined with bushes, looking at the walls of the cathedrals familiar from childhood, the silhouette of the churches of the Venerable Zosima and Savvaty and Smolensky, to the chime of the clock on the high bell tower, you seem to dissolve in the flow of inexpressible, but such a peaceful acceptance of everything that is in life. And even if not everything rejoices, not everything is so carefree and easy, but there is the Church, there is the Lavra, there are festive services and quiet warm evenings, which the Lord gives to rest the soul, gives as a gift, gives as a consolation, encouragement and to strengthen hope in His mercy. It is also good from the smell of night flowers, and thick shadows, and deep greenery flashing brightly by the lanterns. Everything is fine if it is with God!

About another autumn feast of the Venerable

October 8

In all the entries there is one thing - eternal haste, preoccupation with current affairs. Sometimes there is a small choice: to be in time for the akathist before the vigil or to walk one stop on foot. Choosing the latter. I really want to look at the beauty of nature not only from the window of the train, but also to walk with my own feet on the grass that is not yet everywhere withered, look at the colors of autumn and breathe in its smells. I want to see the Caucasian crocus - and it flashed with a soft lilac light in someone's flower bed among fallen leaves and still fresh green grass. Such small joys, thank God, can still be pleasantly exciting. This is somewhat comforting, especially among experiences that are not worth talking about, but cannot be forgotten. There are many things that can rightly be called an enemy affair, one can feel sorry for everyone who falls into his net, from which it is so difficult to get out. Of course, all this is due to a lack of humility and the weakness of our prayer. But back to the road.

Smoke is creeping here and there. These are heaps of fallen leaves, tops and brushwood. Quiet and calm around. For the first time this year we saw a pair of bullfinches, it seems that it is too early for them to be in our area. do not surprise us, they snoop in the bushes, whistling loudly. Quite rarely: two or three raspberries were waiting for us, leaning out between the fence boards. The domes of the Lavra shine ahead. If your soul is peaceful, if you are warm from the knowledge that you are going to the Venerable, if there is such a "dissolution of the airs" around, such a generous filling of every nook with warm sun, such a variety of shades, such a clear sky, then you can believe the saints who said that heaven and hell begin here. Everyone knows that hell is rarer, but heaven is rarer, God grant that! And he gives it through His great mercy and intercession to the Monk Abba. Here we are already in the fence. As it should be, there are a lot of people. We go to the Smolensk church. Usually it is closed, and on the occasion of the repair of the Academic Intercession Church, they serve in Smolensk. It is much smaller than the closed Pokrovsky Theater, but it has its own amazing atmosphere: the children, students of the Theological Schools, stand together with the people, the choir is right there. Everyone and everything is nearby. When they sing in the altar and on the kliros, it seems that the whole world is immersed in a sea of church hymns, that there is nothing else but the feast in the Lavra. The service was headed by Bishop Anatoly (Kuznetsov)CXXXVII. He has aged, changed in appearance, but his eyes and voice have remained the same. The stichera to the Monk sounded very good: "Peace, Venerable, having forsaken..." and two more on "Lord, I have cried." The service ended quickly. Again we run to the train in order to get off in the morning, still in the moonlight, and go there again.

Outside the windows of the train, dawn is dawning. Steam rises from the lowlands and melts in the rays of the rising sun. We were in time for the liturgy in the Smolensk church. Vladyka Anatoly served, he said "the word." In short: St. Sergius over the long years of podvig was able to sympathize with everyone, to love everyone, to ache with his soul for everyone, that not only the surrounding residents, but also the princes suffering from internecine strife were drawn to him. Now many things in life are not the same, but even now there are many sorrows, many things divide people, many suffer from oppression and fear. Then, during his lifetime, St. Sergius erected a simple wooden church in honor of the Holy Trinity, so that the thought of the greatness, power, and mutual love of all the Persons of the Holy Trinity would take root, and when looking at Her, the fear of discord would be overcome... Now, striving to enter the abode of the Holy Trinity, we must, beginning with ourselves, strive to overcome all evil thoughts, desires unworthy of Christians, and even more so our actions...

We should think about preaching, about a holiday, about ourselves, but it is easier in silence, solitude, better in nature, but we do not have such an opportunity. It is also good that we see on the way, again from the window of the train, yellow birches, golden from the sun, yellowing larches, bronze oaks. In some places, there are completely bare trees. The sky is bright and blue. If only to pray, looking at such beauty. But... when talking or listening, you do not pray, and if you do not speak and pray openly in public, you will sin more, and it is not for me. May God grant that I may at least remember the feast in my soul, not be irritated by all the interferences, which, both by agreement, strive to spoil everything that is possible, if only to overshadow the feast, the Lavra, and the beauty... Thank God that at least somehow, but the bright autumn feast of the Venerable One stands in my memory, over the years losing the exclusivity of each individual celebration, but remaining a general feeling of miracle and a thirst to somehow express gratitude, but with what and how?