On Faith, Unbelief, and Doubt

* * *

The first impression in my memory of faith, perhaps, was Pascha. Our whole family, like everyone else, has been preparing for it for a long time. And this expectation was growing.On Saturday evening, they talked about the night matins for Pascha. I had never been to it before: I was too young... Maybe I was 4 years old then... And I really wanted to be in the service then. And I began to ask my mother to take me to church... I was expecting something amazing. The little heart fluttered with the joy to come. Mom (she was the hostess of the family) promised; But she advised me to go to bed early. Hopefully, I fell asleep at once; And he woke up when it was dawn. Our people had already arrived from church (usually this time they gave us a horse from the "estate")... It turned out that they only consoled me with a promise, but they did not take me. And the elder brother, Misha, has already been honored with this joy. I was bitter. But soon I forgot my sorrow. The Paschal joy picked me up and carried me forward. Children's grief, like morning dew, is short-lived... But the next year I was already together with all our... I don't remember everything: only the joy was extraordinary... And among other things, during the singing of "Christ is Risen" and the procession around the church, they fired (from gunpowder) at cannons, God knows who had been preserved from somewhere by the landowners [3]. It was scary, but also breathtaking. Everything merged with the general elation, and barrels of tar were also burning... It was beautiful at night... I remember how around the church the women put bundles with "paskha" (cheese), Easter cakes and painted eggs; And penny candles were stuck in the "Easter"... "Fathers" (priest, deacon and sacristan) walked, sang and sprinkled them with holy water (after the Liturgy); the women immediately tied knots and hurried home... There were fewer and fewer lights. The fires also burned drowsily, as if tired during the night... Dawn was beginning to dawn... We rode in a cart. Ice still crunched here and there under the wheels and hooves of the horse: it must have been early Easter. At home, the father and mother sang "Christ is Risen" three times; and we joyfully began to break our fast with sweet Easter cakes and Easter cakes, with eggs... It was joyful in my heart... Then they immediately went to bed after an almost sleepless night. By 11 o'clock in the morning we woke up by lunchtime. But the former trembling joy was gone. A kind of peaceful silence cherished the soul... Then there was a game of eggs in the street, where all the "people" serving the "masters" gathered. Of course, there was no thought of any "social" inequality: my heart was joyful; the food was delicious; the soul is pure; Everyone around is joyful. What is better? The whole world was forgotten! Happy time...

* * *

Much later, I paid attention to the clergy's visit to our hut on Pascha... After the prayer service at the landowners, the priest walked along the "yard". We waited. A green lamp burned in front of the icons. Everything was clean... We, children, watched: when the "icons" appeared...."They are coming, they are coming!" ... Bending down through the low doors, the "priests" sang a one-minute moleben, prayed for Christ; Dad imperceptibly put something (probably a silver nickel) into the priest's hand, shyly, and asked him to "sit down." They offered a treat: they refused... Two or three words, and everyone left... And only then did I feel that the holiday had "reached" our home. And there is definitely something missing from the "icons". What it was, I do not know, and I will not even explain; But this memory is etched in my memory forever... And then I thought: how unwise people are acting that they refuse to receive "priests" on this day! What joy they deprive themselves... The priests do not even suspect, probably, what kind of joy he walks with them, they are used to it. And for me it was like God's visitation... Perhaps even now, when we, the spiritual, visit people with molebens on feast days, they also feel joy from us, or through us from God.. After graduating from the Academy (1907-1908), Hieromonk Veniamin became a professorial scholar at the Department of Biblical History, and then held the position of inspector at the St. Petersburg Theological Seminary. Bishop Veniamin taught at the Paris Orthodox Theological Institute in 1925-1927 and 1929-1931. he was a household man of the Baratynskys, descendants of the famous Russian poet E. A. Baratynsky. At the age of 13-14, he was sent as a clerk to the Tambov estate - Sost. ^ Kozhevnikov Vladimir Alexandrovich (1852-1917) — author of books and articles on the history of religion, theology, problems of morality, writer and public figure. We consider it possible to cite a small list of his works devoted to the theme of faith and unbelief: "The Philosophy of Feeling and Faith in Its Relation to Literature and Rationalism of the Eighteenth Century and to Critical Philosophy." Moscow, 1897; "On Conscientiousness in Faith and Unbelief (To the Student Youth)". — M., 1908; "Confessions of an Atheist (On Le Dantec's Book "Atheism")". Moscow, 1911; "Modern Scientific Disbelief. His Growth, Influence and Change of Attitude to Him". — M., 1912 – Compilation. ^ In Russia, there was a custom (of secular origin) to accompany the movement of the procession on Easter night with fireworks, illuminations, as well as a cannon or rifle salute. Immediately after the end of the procession, when the Bright Matins began, the shooting and fireworks stopped – Compilation. ^

Chapter 2

* * *

I also remember how my grandmother (Nadezhda – may she rest in peace! – was a holy humble) took me to the church, which stood on a hill, two versts from our house. She led to Communion of the Holy Spirit. Secrets. At that time, they put a clean colored shirt on me, I remember in the summer, and I also liked it. Impressions of St. I do not remember Communion in this early childhood; But I remember that there was only a slight impression of peace and quiet, reverent, silent, collected triumph: it was as if I were becoming an adult, a serious one this time... Once my grandmother and I were late for communion. It hurt me... I don't know why I was taken to one of the children (my brother Mikhail was 2 years older than me, but he was not taken with me)... Could it be that then there was already God's Providence over me, unworthy? My mother told me that our grandfather married her, my grandmother, not by his own choice, but by the will of his parents, as was usually done in the old days in simple rural families and clergy. It was like this. One winter evening, my grandfather's father, Deacon Vasily (Orshevsky), came to the house; and my grandfather, Nicholas, then still a young man (for some reason who had not finished his studies in theological schools), was lying on the stove. "What, father?"I have decided to marry you."To whom, father?" The bridegroom asked. "But at Fr. Vasily's (in this village, Orshevka, there was another deacon, also named Vasily) I want to take Nadezhda for you."Father! Is this pockmarked?! The disgruntled and involuntary groom objects. And my grandmother was sick with smallpox as a child, and on her face there were several large, but not at all spoiling her face. The deacon was angry. Am I your enemy, not your father? I know who I'm choosing for you. Come on, get down from the stove! Grandfather of Tears; and his father took a stag (such as we used to put pots and cast irons in the stove), and slapped him on the back once or twice, and "taught" him."Forgive me, father," asked my grandfather. "Whether it's pockmarked or crooked, it's your will!" And what a wise choice it was: my grandfather was not quite peaceful; later he drank a lot of wine. And he also had a large bee-house, several hundred hives: trade, honey and mash; yes, they constantly drank at the parish service; So he became an alcoholic. The last 18 years of his life (he died at the age of 71-72) he even lost his sanity, fell into childhood. He lived with us, then with another daughter, Anna Sokolova (also a meek holy woman, who was married to a well-to-do psalmist, Yakov Nikolaevich). He was very quiet; He only joked and smiled all the time. None of the children was afraid of him... He died at Aunt Anna's; I did not see his death.And to such a restless bridegroom the Lord sent the humble wife Nadezhda. And she never complained, never sued her grandfather: she was always quiet, silent and meek. Up. Paul often writes in his epistles about Christians: "All the saints salute you, and especially from the house of Caesar" (Phil. 4:22); and at another time he writes simply: "All the brethren greet you (the Corinthians)" (1 Corinthians 16:20): "All those who are with me greet you. Salute those who love us in faith" (Titus 3:15). Early Christians lived holy, staying in families, with husbands, wives, children—or even slaves. For this reason the Lord vouchsafed her an unusually quiet death, for which we pray: "The Christian end of our life, painless, shameless, peaceful" – "we ask the Lord" [1]. I remember this myself. I was probably 7 years old, and maybe even 6 years old. I slept with my little brother Sergey on a large bed. Others are on the floor. Grandmother is on a couch (an addition on a large Russian stove, on the side, for warm lying and sleeping)... Grandmother, as I remember, was never sick with anything. She was also about 71-72 years old, probably. But she has already become very weak. That must have been the reason why the lamp was burning, dimmed. Suddenly I heard (or maybe later my mother repeated it?):"Natasha! (Grandmother calls my mother). Seryozha was scattered in his sleep (i.e., he threw off the blanket in his sleep): cover him. Mom, very sensitive in general and fast, instantly jumped up from the floor and began to cover her brother. I didn't sleep here. Then my mother wanted to go to bed again: but my grandmother suddenly began to breathe unusually hard. Mom heard and was scared. She went up to her and said to her father: "Father, father! Get up, there's something wrong with your grandmother.Mom was nervous. And the father is always calm: why worry in this world? And Khokhlatsky (Fedchenko!) complacency was in his nature (Ukrainians rode oxen: everything was "quiet"). Dad got up, looked at my grandmother and said quite peacefully: "Grandma is dying." Everyone woke up... I don't remember, I don't think I was agitated. Dad lit a wax candle and approached grandmother: "Grandma, cross yourself!" (Probably, she still had so much power.) "Take the candle in your hands." And then she rarely sighed a few more times. And she died quite quietly... Mom sobbed... On the third day, my grandmother was buried. And we carried her along the same road along which we went to commune with her. I carried an icon in front of the coffin... She was buried in the cemetery - to the left, and almost next to the chapel. Holy. It was, I think, in early autumn - perhaps still in September (about 1886-7). Six months later, another daughter's sick grandfather died in the village.To this day, I not only remember my grandmother in my prayers; but when it is difficult for me spiritually, I ask her to pray for me there, with God: her prayer, humble and pure (of course, she was a pure life), reaches God... From the connection, I remember: how I "communed" after. It was already 5 years later, after the death of my grandmother... Priest Fr. Vladimir confessed by fasting on the right kliros. And, it seems, the children of innocents were confessed in groups of 5 people... And what sins did we have then? But he was already flying home joyfully, as if he were flying on wings: it was so light in his soul! And after confession it was not supposed to eat. Mother, also happy for us that we were cleansed (and the people said: "We coped, we reformed"), kindly used to say: "Well, you go to bed, go to bed quickly: so as not to sin again. And we, really afraid that we might stain our conscience even with word and thought, immediately go to bed; and fell asleep in the undisturbed sleep of innocence. The next day they were "vouchsafed" to take communion... It was even more joyful for us and for our parents. They were especially affectionate with us then... Holy silence and love entered the house with communicants: "The God of love and peace" came with us into the house (2 Corinthians 13:11). treated well; Yesterday's post was generously rewarded. The Christian End of Our Life... — Words from the Litanies of Supplication – Comp. ^

Chapter 3

* * *

Everyone knows to what extent children really live in the other world. And if I remember almost nothing about myself, I will write down something from the lives of other children.One three-year-old child, his grandmother S. writes to me, "suffers from whooping cough for a long time. Before going to bed, he says to his grandmother: "Grandma! If you see angels in a dream; Another grandmother, who came to visit her daughter in Paris, who was dying of consumption, told me about her granddaughter Alyosha: "My daughter married a commissar. He did not even order to mention God. And I had a cross hanging on my chest, and Alyosha saw it."Grandmother! "A clock," I said, "my dear!" And yet the bell was rung on holidays. I don't know where he came from, but he's the same. learned about God. And once he said to me: "Grandma! Carry me to church; I will look at God once, only once, and I will not do it again.Often, in the earliest period, they confuse the priest with God. In Bulgaria, I met a 4-year-old child, ran to his father's shop and shouted loudly: "God, God is coming!" In New York, a Negro boy (in 1933) asks me in English:- Are you God?- No.- Who are you? The Mother of God?—No, I am a bishop. I probably haven't heard the word.— Priest, priest, priest! A very tiny child was brought to church. When he returned home, they asked him: "Well, what did you see in the church?" That's all the service.7-year-old girl Sonechka. Her mother fell ill. They talk about death. But my daughter is quite calm. When the mother (K.) especially complained of pain and was afraid of death, Sonechka came up to her and asked: "Mommy, why are you afraid of death? After all, you tell me that it is very good in paradise with God. And you don't want to go there?... I don't know what my mother answered.Sonechka was given Communion very often, and she loved it.In New York, one mother very often gives Communion to her little ones: Peter and Paul, the white ones, and how I love to give them Communion! And so are they. He also remembered the older "angels", a cadet of the Don Corps (in the city of Bilech, in Yugoslavia) [1]. Once, after communion, 2 young men came to me, already 16-17 years old... Clean, beautiful. Knocked. "Why have you come?" I asked. We are silent... They're sitting quiet..."Well, how do you feel?" I asked. The other added: "As if on Easter!" And I was silently happy to sit with them. Then one says thoughtfully: "And just think: why did God give us this joy.. Only because we confessed (i.e., revealed our sins). And I was left with the impression that I had real angels... Another cadet from the same corps, a clever young man, the "first student" in the company, told me after communion that he suddenly felt so physically "light – that the weight in me became less"... This deserves attention: man is spiritualized by uniting with Christ. And He, after His resurrection, received a spiritual body, which had neither weight nor density; and therefore He appeared, disappeared through the doors... And ascended. And the custom of the Church to read (in the altar by the clergy, secretly) after Communion is full of meaning: "The Resurrection of Christ, having beheld", "Shine, shine, new (future, spiritual, which is spoken of in Revelation, in chapters 21 and 22) Jerusalem"... A spiritual, Divine city, in which "they shall have no need of a lamp or of the light of the sun, for the Lord God gives them light" (22:5). "He has the glory of God" (21:11). "The new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband" (21:2). And then they read: "O great and most sacred Pascha, O Christ.. Grant us to partake of Thee more fully (even more really) in the unfading days of Thy Kingdom" (Paschal Canon, Ode 9). Communion. But not about babies in the body... In Paris, a young girl, about 25 years old, came to me at the Sergius metochion [2]. Authoress. This is the first time I see you.- What can I serve?- I have come to you to confess.- Good: we do not dare to refuse. And why did you come to me?—I was sent to you by R—a.It was a baptized Jewess, an acquaintance of the girl.After a few more sentences, I wanted to proceed to the sacrament of confession. Suddenly, the visitor resolutely declares: "No! I will not confess to you.—What is it? Why?—Yes, I want to confess to a priest who doesn't know me at all, and I don't know him. Meanwhile, I talked to you for only 5 minutes, and it seems to me that I have known you for 20 years. No, I won't, I won't! I would be ashamed!And I was about to leave.I began to urge her to reject this devilish temptation. But she stood her ground: I won't, I won't!Then I resorted to an innocent stratagem."Listen," I said, "well, you won't say anything; only kneel down, and I will say in your place: If my words are true, then you will be silent; And if they are wrong, just say: no. It is no longer difficult.After some more hesitation, she agreed. I read the prayers. We knelt down. I said... Confession, thank God. was accomplished. It was Holy Thursday, after Mass. On the next day, the Liturgy and Communion are not allowed. The Shroud is brought out only at Vespers. The sacrifice is made on Golgotha.The confessor was at the service. After vespers, he ran to my room and said in horror: "And I have chaos in my soul again. Everything was spinning in my head again. All this is very beautiful; But what if all this is just our own creation of the heart and mind? And what if all this is not really there? (I will write about doubts in the future).— Why do you think so?— I don't know myself: why! She says in horror and grief with anguish. "These questions came to my mind from somewhere, against my will. And I fell apart again. It's terrible!— Wait, wait! And suddenly the thought came to me: to read something from the Gospel to her. "You and I are not going to prove existence and truth to the world now... Let's just watch it... We will see with our own eyes.— How? She asks in surprise, with a joyful secret hope of getting out of the horror of doubt that overwhelms her. What is it? We say: "Revelation" is Divine, "the Word of God". If it is a "revelation," then it does not prove, but simply shows, "reveals" to us that world, its undoubted reality and truth. Well, I'll open it anywhere; I accidentally opened the Gospel of Mark, and my fingers fell at the end of the 5th chapter. I read to her about the resurrection of the archsynagogue's daughter: "And taking the maiden by the hand, (Christ) said to her: Talitha, kumi! And the damsel immediately arose and began to walk, for she was about twelve years old. Those who saw them were greatly astonished. And he sternly commanded them, that no one should know about it; and he said that they should give her something to eat" (vv. 41-43). "Isn't it obvious to you that all this was written down by reliable eyewitnesses?! Well, tell me: why would they write about a half-maiden girl who, after her resurrection, "began to walk" around the room?! Does it make any difference whether Tabitha, the resurrected Apostle Paul, walked or sat (cf. Acts 9:40-41). "She opened her eyes, and when she saw Peter, she sat down. He gave her his hand and raised it..." And, however, eyewitnesses noticed this detail and recorded it. St. Ev. Mark, as is known, wrote from the words of his teacher Ap. Peter, who was present at this miracle with John and James (v. 37). And they themselves were surprised at this walking: she had just been dead, and now she was walking like a healthy woman. It is known that children do not like to sit, but like to move, to do something. And the Apostle explained it precisely by this: she was then only "about 12 years old"... The girl is still... And then: "Give her something to eat"... Another great detail; although she walked up and down the room, she was still weak because of her illness; and the Saviour took care of that too. Well," I said, "tell me for yourself (you are an honest and clever girl)—is it not obvious to every unprejudiced mind and heart that all this really happened? Well, has it not really been "revealed" to you that all this is true? And if these 2-3 verses are true, then everything that is written above and below about Christ and His Father and the Holy Spirit, and in general everything that is revealed in the Gospel about the next world, is also true?! Tell me yourself.— Yes, that's true! The embarrassed writer confirmed quietly. "Well, go in peace, and tomorrow take communion." If doubtful thoughts come upon you again, then do not pay the slightest attention to them. Be calm and firm: you see that all this "really" was and is.She left completely reconciled.On Holy Saturday she took communion. I have just returned from church to my room, and she comes in, extremely joyful. I liked to invite communicants to tea.— Please, please! "No, I won't stay." I only ran in for one minute. "Would you at least have some tea?!" "No, no, no!" "I have only come to tell you what happened to me during Communion. I'm silent... She rested for two or three seconds and said: "During Communion, the Lord Jesus Christ Himself appeared to me. (And then I don't remember the details, she said only very briefly.) "That's what I ran to tell you!" And, having received a blessing, she, joyful, shining with Paschal illumination, quickly ran away... After that, I never met her again... Where are you, the soul of God? I believe that no matter what happens to you, it was not in vain that Christ appeared to you in a particularly obvious way after Communion... He will not allow you to perish either in the whirlpool of life, or in the soulless lie of unbelief... In Simferopol, a 3-year-old pet was dying in the R-x family. Parents are crying. Count A-n [3], in the presence of the members of the Synod, in 1920, in the Kherson monastery, told the following about his girls (Marfinka and, I think, Nadenka): "They were already in bed (in Yalta). As was customary, I went into their bedroom to make the sign of the cross over them for the night. The doors opened silently. I heard them talking: "And what do you think: will they come to us now? "I think they'll come..." Who are they talking about? "About your parents, or what?" I asked: "Who else are you waiting for?" Who will come?- Angels, - they answered simply.- What angels?- White, with wings.- Do they come to you?- Yes!I didn't ask anything else. He silently crossed himself and went out with tears of joy.His wife is also a "saint", from the family of the Baryatinsky princes... About her, too, it would be necessary to write down those who know her life... The humble woman was... And clean... And the believing soul... She lost everything, but she never grumbled not only against God. but even the Bolsheviks... The saints were also aristocrats, and not only from the common people... About the angels I also remember the story of Bishop Theodosius. Tikhon (then still an archimandrite) (Tishchenko), who was the rector of the Berlin Russian Church. In 1923, I was invited to give a lecture at a Young Men's Christian convention in Falkenberg, near Berlin. There was also Fr. Archim. Tikhon. He was a very educated theologian, an inspector at the Kiev Theological Academy, and a master. He came from a peasant family, from the city of Bila Tserkva. They had a large family; There are 7 children. The last child, Maria, fell dangerously ill. After several sleepless nights, their mother, laying the child beside her on the bed, fell asleep. And the boy - then still Timofey - was sitting by the window.- I was about 7 years old. Suddenly I saw an angel with Manka in his arms and shouted: "Mom! Mom! The mother woke up: "Why are you shouting?" - "Yes, they took Manka!" - "Who took it?" - she rushed to look at the sick child. "The angel took it. I've seen it." The mother took Maria, but she was already dead.Archimandrite Tikhon informs me that he also saw the angel white and with wings. In 1924-1925, Bishop Veniamin (Fedchenkov) was a teacher of religion in two cadet corps – the Russian and the Don Corps named after General Kaledin – Compilation. ^ The Sergius metochion in Paris was founded in the mid-twenties through the efforts of the administrator of the Russian parishes in Western Europe, Metropolitan Eulogius (Georgievsky), kn. G. N. Trubetskoy, M. M. Osorgin and other Russian exiles. A Theological Institute was established at the metochion, where Fr. Sergius Bulgakov, G. V. Florovsky, B. P. Vysheslavtsev, A. V. Kartashev, and V. N. Ilyin taught. Bishop Benjamin was a professor and also served as an inspector of the institute. According to contemporaries, the Theological Institute was largely indebted to Bishop Benjamin for the special spiritual atmosphere that reigned within its walls, an almost monastic way of life – Ed. ^ Count A-n – probably Count Apraksin – a member of the so-called "Crimean Synod", the Temporary Supreme Church Administration (VVTsU) of the dioceses of south-eastern Russia, of which Vladyka Veniamin was also a member – Ed. ^

Chapter 4

* * *

In the evening, little S. is put to bed, and before that his bed was moved to another place; the icon hanging above it was left in its original place. He noticed this and said to his grandmother: "You give me an icon (the appearance of the Mother of God to St. Sergius)! Otherwise, without her, God knows what can happen!" They gave it to him. The little one laid her on his pillow, and soon fell asleep peacefully. He was about 4 years old.Village children, in the absence of their parents who had left for the city, took a pot of sour cream from the cellar and wanted to eat it. They put it on the table, sliced bread. According to custom, they wanted to pray first. N. was ashamed of them: they had committed a secret thing, a theft (although from themselves, but without the will of their parents). Then one of them guessed: they took a towel and hung the icons: "So that God does not see." We feasted... Cleared the table. And they forgot about the towel. Soon a worker entered the hut. He immediately noticed the curtain. He began to interrogate the children; and they were forced to confess. It is not without reason that Christ commanded us to become like children...... Here I am already a "spiritual father," as we were called, that is, a student of the Tambov Theological School... How I loved the divine services! These were really the "holidays" of my soul... I liked everything... And the services, and the singing (I myself always sang), and Father Gabriel Demitziev – an excellent priest and a wonderful teacher of penmanship – always calm, thin blond, with curly hair... I also liked the "big" singers (tenors and basses) who came to us to sing (and the children were sent in exchange, to the seminary): they were already in black frock coats and ironed shirts with ties... And the dignity of the ranks... And the harmony of the divine service. And cleanliness in the church... And teachers in uniforms are behind... Well, everything was gratifying... But here I learned the first doubt. I don't know where it came from... After 4 years of rural school, I studied for another 2 years in the "district school"... That's when I heard a lot... I don't know, I don't know... But here's what I remember well. It is read at Matins (at the "Vigil") after the troparia of the kathisma [1]. And I hear the following words (I will quote them here not in Slavonic, but in Russian): "The madman said in his heart there is no God..." And so on (Psalm 13). And suddenly thoughts ran in: ... How good it is that only "madmen" do not believe in God; and the wise, therefore, believe... But then the evil thought whispers: - Or maybe it's just that we are taught this way at school?! But in fact, smart people are just non-believers?! - Oh, how I wished then with a child's pure heart that the Psalmist David was right that unbelievers are mad, and not vice versa! But doubt still accumulated in my heart and poisoned my joy... I was 13 years old then... I could not cope with this doubt myself. And the poison of sorrow remained in me, but not for long. Then I forgot about it. And 12 years later, I already found an explanation. And then I understood all the indubitable truth (and the philosophical "epistemological" truth at that) of these words of the Psalmist, that if anyone says that "there is no God," then he is really "mad," not only unintelligent, but speaks contrary to reason, against consistent logic, the laws of which are mathematically compulsory. Then I saw that such sayings, "There is no God," are not at all from the "mind," but from the "heart": "He is a fool in his heart," v. 1. And finally, this is in direct proportion to the corruption of the soul: "all are perverted... all were corrupted; there is none that doeth good" (v. 3).- But I will write about this later... And then, in the angelic childhood and adolescence, the "heart" wanted faith, rejoiced in it; and vice versa, it did not want disbelief, instinctively repelled this lie; and was even grieved by doubts. Even now it is sad for such a temptation.

* * *