Wednesday, August 5, 2026

The Hermit and Hesychast St. John (Iacob) of Neamț, the New Chozebite

Archimandrite Ioanichie (Balan)

 

 

[Important Supplementary material:

https://orthodoxmiscellany.blogspot.com/2024/10/st-john-romanian-new-chozebite-and-his.html

https://orthodoxmiscellany.blogspot.com/2025/10/monk-paul-cypriot-1994-hagiorite-monk.html]

 

Life

St. John (Iacob) was a holy hesychast of our days, who struggled for twenty-four years in the Holy Land, in the Jordan Valley and in the desert of Chozeba (also spelled Choziba). This blessed bearer of Christ was born on July 23, 1913, in the village of Crăiniceni, Paltiniș commune, Botoșani county, into a family of pious peasants Maxim and Ecaterina, and was their only child. In Holy Baptism, he was named Ilie, and at home he was called Iliuță. Six months after his birth, his mother fell ill and died, and the baby was left in the care of his paternal grandmother, Maria Iacob, who cared for him like a true mother for ten years.

In 1916, when little Ilie was three years old, his father died at the front. In 1923, his grandmother also passed away, leaving Ilie an orphan, deprived of the comfort of his loved ones. He was then taken in by his uncle, Alecu Iacob, who had six children of his own at home. Between 1926 and 1932, young Ilie studied at the Mihail Kogălniceanu Gymnasium and the Dimitrie Cantemir Lyceum in the town of Cozmeni near Chernivtsi.

In the summer of 1933, he entered the Neamț Monastery. On April 8, 1936, he was tonsured a monk with the name John (Ioan), and in November of the same year, along with other monks of the Great Lavra (as the Neamț Monastery is often referred to), he set off to venerate the Holy Sepulcher. Afterwards, he settled permanently in the Holy Land, where he struggled in the brotherhood of the Lavra of St. Sabbas the Sanctified (the Mar Saba Monastery) in the vicinity of Bethlehem.

On September 14, 1947, Metropolitan Irinarch ordained him hieromonk at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher; he was subsequently appointed abbot of the Romanian Skete of St. John the Baptist on the Jordan River. After five years of obedience, together his disciple, Monk Ioanichie (Pârâială), he withdrew into the desert of Chozeba in the vicinity of Jericho. There they struggled in St. Anne’s Cave in the Valley of the Chorath Brook, for eight years.

On August 5, 1960, at the age of forty-seven, St. John (Iacob) departed to the Heavenly abodes and was buried in the cave where he had led an ascetic life. Twenty years later, on August 8, 1980, his body was found incorrupt in the grave.

On August 15 of the same year, with the blessing of Patriarch Benedict I of Jerusalem, his relics were translated to the nearby Monastery of St. George the Chozebite and now rest at the church alongside other holy relics.

Deeds and Sayings

This venerable man was chosen by God from his mother’s womb for the Heavenly Kingdom, for from infancy he was manifestly blessed by the grace of the Holy Spirit, being in all things meek like a lamb, humble, silent, zealous for holiness and patient in temptations both internal and external. Then, prayer with tears worked incessantly in his mind and heart. His mother Ecaterina was guided by Christ to lead a blameless life and give birth to her only son on earth, for shortly after giving birth she departed to the Heavenly abodes.

For Blessed Ilie, who was orphaned in infancy, God was a father and the Church a spiritual mother, while his humble grandmother Maria, a widow, raised him and protected him with prayer and love until he was ten.

Old people in the saint’s native village recount that every day his grandmother carried him to nursing mothers for breastfeeding and kept vigil over him day and night until the boy began to speak. And in the summer, setting off for field work, she would put the baby boy into a knapsack so that his head was visible, heave it onto her back, make the sign of the holy cross, and walk with a prayer on her lips and tears in her eyes. There she would seat him in the shade beneath a tree and leave him until sunset. Then she would put him back into the knapsack and carry him home. After feeding the baby boy, she would put him to sleep beneath the holy icons, while she would pray and make prostrations until late at night, according to ancient sacred custom.

The child was gifted with a bright mind, did well at school and brought his grandmother much joy. Over time, the eldress began teaching him prayers, frequently took him to church and asked him to read the Psalter to her, as she was illiterate. Sometimes she would tell him to read the Passion of the Lord to her, while she wept and made full prostrations. The child once asked her:

“Mother, why do you cry so much when I read about the Passion of our Lord?”

And the eldress answered him:

“My darling, you don’t know what tragedy befell our family. I’m not your mother! She departed to the Lord when you were only six months old, and your father was killed in the war when you were three years old. I’m your grandmother, and your grandfather has long been in heaven. Widowed, I wanted to enter a convent, but when you were left an orphan, I gave up that plan in order to raise you. And I cry because I’m old, and after my death you’ll be all alone in this world and an orphan. But have faith in God, always pray to Him, flee from sin and remember us. If you do this, the Mother of God will protect you, and you will avoid many dangers. And in life I can’t wish anything better for you than to become a priest and glorify Christ!”

At the age of twenty, he graduated from the lyceum and, since he was gifted with a bright mind by the grace of Christ, friends and relatives tried to persuade him to study theology and later become a priest. But his conscience and his heart inspired him: “No, I want to become a monk!” And so one day, while working in the field and being tormented by doubts, he began to pray to God to reveal to him what to do. And the saint heard a loud voice from above: “The monastery.” From that moment on, he lost his peace, for the Holy Spirit kept calling on him to go to the monastery as soon as possible and dedicate his life to Christ.

One Sunday in the summer of 1933, when the village youth were joyfully gathering for a wedding, Ilie, God’s chosen one, venerated the icons in tears at the Crăiniceni church, kissed his parents’ crosses at the cemetery and, bidding farewell to his relatives, departed to be betrothed to Christ in the brotherhood of the Neamț Monastery.

On seeing him, Bishop Nicodim, the Abbot of the Lavra (the Neamț Monastery), wondered:

“Why have you come to the monastery, Brother Ilie?”

“Father Abbot, I wish to become a monk, mourn over my sins, pray for my parents who brought me into this world, and unceasingly glorify God.”

“You have chosen a good path, Brother Ilie. If you have humility and obedience, love prayer, and do all that is good, you will easily overcome the temptations of this world and be numbered among the saints in Heaven.”

“So may God help me, Your Eminence Father Superior!”

“Have patience in everything, nourish yourself with the teachings of the Holy Scriptures and the Holy Fathers, and follow the life and advice of the devout spiritual fathers and ascetics of the Neamț Monastery brotherhood. Go to the church, bow before the wonderworking icon of the Most Holy Theotokos, the Patroness of this monastery, and then I will entrust you to the obedience of Father Iov (Job), the monastery apothecary and the most spiritual monk of our brotherhood. Follow, to the best of your ability, his life and advice, do not miss church services and carry out your obedience at the monastery library.”

For three years, Rassophore Monk Ilie served his novitiate under the Venerable Iov (Burlacu), striving to imitate his austere ascetic labors, fasting, stillness, humility, poverty and unceasing prayer. At the library he put all the books in order, read many instructions of the Holy Fathers and gave good counsel to the young novices, so that everyone found benefit on seeing his zeal, wisdom and labors, and he was loved by all in the brotherhood of the Great Lavra.   

The abbot and the spiritual fathers noticed his zeal for Christ, and on April 8, 1936, on Holy and Great Wednesday, Rassophore Monk Ilie (Iacob) was tonsured a monk along with ten other brothers, receiving in the tonsure the name of St. John the Baptism. Two great prophets, Elias and John, the leaders of the eremitic life of the Old and New Testaments, became his teachers, fathers and intercessors in his monastic feats. Both called on him to follow their lives, including fasting, prayer, and virginity, inspiring him to go to the Holy Land—to the great hesychasts of the Jordan Valley. St. Elias the Tishbite transmitted to him the zeal for defending the True Faith and called him to the spiritual ascent of Mounts Carmel and Sinai. And St. John the Baptist inspired him to go to the monasteries of the Holy Land and taught him to call everyone to repentance and to boldly denounce sin—which the future saint did throughout his life in the magnificent poems and instructions that he has left behind.

Wounded by Christ’s love for the Life-Giving Tomb in Jerusalem and for the desert life there, in the autumn of 1936, the humble monk John (Iacob) partook of the Divine Mysteries, venerated the icon of the Most Holy Theotokos in church, asked for forgiveness and the blessing from the elder and all the brethren, and set off forever for the Holy Land, protected by the grace of the Holy Spirit, which inflamed his heart with Divine love.

On arriving in the Holy Land, Monk John first of all came to Golgotha and venerated the Holy Sepulcher of the Lord. Then, having partaken of the Body and Blood of Christ, the blessed soldier of Christ walked all over the Holy Land, following in the footsteps of the Lord and his holy patrons, Elias the Tishbite and John the Baptist. At first, he led an ascetic life alone in a cave in the Jordan Desert, then he joined the brotherhood of the Lavra of St. Sabbas the Sanctified in the Kidron Valley, where there were several Romanian hesychasts. In this ancient Lavra, St. John struggled until the summer of 1947.

Here the soldier of Christ John acquired the gift of tears and the prayer of the heart. Here he endured severe warfare and trials from demons, for the evil spirits could not bear the fact that he unceasingly prayed and praised God. Here he was tonsured into the great schema and here too he overcame his invisible enemies through strict and prolonged fasting, exhausting night vigils, the victorious sword of prayer and the shield of humility. As a result, he became so free from passions that he endured all hardships with joy, felt an immense compassion for all creation, and never feared demons, illness, or death.

In the brotherhood of St. Sabbas’ Lavra, St. John performed obediences as a librarian and an infirmarian. At night he stood at services in church, and during the day he worked at the monastery hospital, caring for the sick. He also visited sick monks and hermits in their cells, bringing them food, and treated soldiers wounded in the war who were brought here from the front. He dressed their wounds and comforted all of them with love, while in his heart he ceaselessly prayed and lived by Christ.

On the recommendation of Archimandrite Victorin (Ursache), the Superior of the Romanian Mission in Jerusalem, St. John (Iacob) was ordained hieromonk and for five years served as abbot of the Skete of St. John the Baptist on the Jordan, founded by the Romanian Patriarchate. Here he added new, eremitic ascetic labors to his previous feats, and endured numerous temptations from demons. His rule of life was as follows: during the day he ate nothing until sunset and unceasingly offered up prayers in his heart, while with his hands he labored in the garden to sustain the skete and lovingly received Romanian and foreign pilgrims who came there. At night, he celebrated the prescribed services in church, heard pilgrims’ confessions, and for a few hours retreated for stillness into a cave on the banks of the Jordan, from which he would return in the morning to the skete with a radiant face.

Burning with love for Christ, in absolute silence and prayer, Blessed Abbot John, together with his disciple Monk Ioanichie, withdrew in the autumn of 1952 to the desert of Chozeba in the vicinity of the Monastery of St. George the Chozebite.

Initially, they struggled for several months in the brotherhood, and then settled permanently in St. Anne’s Cave in the Valley of the Chorath Brook, where other hesychasts also lived as hermits, in order to spend the final years of their lives in prayer alone and communion with Christ. St. John struggled here for over seven years, but no one, not even his disciple Ioanichie, knew all his ascetic feats—they were hidden in God and in the inmost recesses of his heart. For his disciple saw only the saint’s outward labors, such as: all-night vigils, the chanting of the daily cycle of services, the zealous celebration of the holy services at the cave chapel, the reading of sacred books, the translation of the Patristic works, and the composition of spiritual poems for pilgrims who visited him in the cave.

But the feats he performed in his heart, his hidden tears, his struggle with thoughts and evil spirits, his spiritual meditations on things above, and the warmth of the Holy Spirit that set his heart ablaze for Christ’s sake, were seen by God alone, Who accepted them as a burnt offering from St. John the Hesychast, unknown to any mortal.

His disciple recounted the following regarding the ascetic life of this holy hesychast:

“Throughout his illness, he never once groaned or even sighed, but endured everything with serenity and joy. He kept a strict silence, never laughed, prayed unceasingly with his heart, and with immense strength endured pain and worldly privation. He adhered to a rigorous daily routine and fasting, and took the bare minimum of food and drink required merely to sustain life; he deeply loved stillness (hesychia) and solitude, resolutely defended the True Faith, tradition and sacred canons, and always kept his mind fixed on Jesus Christ crucified on Golgotha. He neither thought about nor cared to know anything of this earth. His body, mind, and heart were passionless, ‘dematerialized’, and mysteriously united with God through prayer and the grace of the Holy Spirit.”

Fr. Ioanichie, his disciple, also recounted:

“St. John foresaw the day of his repose and inscribed it on the wall of the cave. Once he had passed away, I dressed him in a cassock, placed the great schema on him (for he was a schemamonk of the Lavra of St. Sabbas the Sanctified), placed an epitrachelion on his chest and laid him on a bast mat. Then I lit three wax candles and an icon lamp, and notified the Abbot of the Monastery of St. George the Chozebite, Archimandrite Amphilochios, with whom he was very close. By his order, the monastery bells tolled for three days, and a litiya was served in the cave.”

Regarding St. John (Iacob)’s funeral and the miracle that occurred then, his disciple relates the following:

“On the day appointed for the funeral, the monastery abbot, Fr. Amphilochios, came with several monks and hesychasts who lived as hermits nearby in the caves of the Rouba Desert. They walked up the stairs into the cave, and at ten o’clock on Saturday, August 7, the elder began the funeral service. And suddenly the cave was filled with the birds of the desert, to which St. John used to give breadcrumbs every day. But now they had not come for food—they were sent by God to honor St. John, to mourn him, and accompany his body to the grave.”

Elder Amphilochios related this as follows:

“The birds prevented us from performing the funeral service, flying over our heads, extinguishing candles, closing books, flapping their wings over the saint’s body, and settling on him—on his head, his chest, and his legs—with each wailing in its own way. They didn’t want food; they needed their father, their benefactor, whom they had lost. After the service was over, we laid him to rest in a grave in the cave where other hesychasts had already been buried before, and covered it with a board lid. Only then did the birds fly away and disperse. Then we brought earth, made a clay mortar and sealed the boards to the grave, where the saint rested until August 1980.”

From the day of his burial, the grave of St. John (Iacob) stood almost completely forgotten for twenty years in St. Anne’s Cave. His disciple Ioanichie moved to the Monastery of St. George the Chozebite. Only on certain days, or when Romanian pilgrims came, would they—accompanied by the disciple—ascend the stairs up to the cave, light candles and an icon lamp on his grave, cense, celebrate vespers in the cave, serve a litiya for the departed, ask the great hesychast for help, listen to a brief account of his life as retold by the disciple, strike the semantron, and descend from the cave with tears in their eyes, saying:

“How great the ascetic feat of St. John (Iacob) was!”    

 

 

In the summer of 1980—on August 8—Orthodox pilgrims led by a Greek Archimandrite who had once lived as a hermit near St. John the Chozebite ascended to St. Anne’s Cave, offered up prayers and kissed his grave. Then the archimandrite recounted:

“I struggled here, not far from this cave, and I deeply loved Father John (Iacob), who was my spiritual father. Afterwards, I went as a missionary to America and knew nothing of him for over twenty years. And then one night he appeared to me in a dream and said, ‘If you want to see me, come to St. Anne’s Cave in the desert of Chozeba and you will see me.’ A month has passed since I saw him in that dream, and I have been restless ever since. That’s why I came to speak with Father John, my spiritual father and friend. I didn’t know that he had departed to the Lord. And now my soul will not find rest until I open his grave to kiss his venerable, much-labored body!”

The abbot of the Lavra, Fr. Amphilochios, reluctantly gave his blessing to open St. John’s grave in the cave. When it was opened, a wondrous fragrance emanated, filling the cave and the hearts of all those present. The saint’s body and vestments were intact, giving off fragrance of holiness. He looked as though he had just fallen asleep. Then everybody fell to their knees and cried out with tears:

“Glory to Thee, O Lord, for this great miracle! The Venerable John the Romanian is a saint!”

Then his holy relics were kissed and censed, candles were lit and the troparion was chanted:

“In thee, O Father, was preserved with exactness what was according to the image; for thou didst take up the cross and follow Christ. By so doing, thou didst teach us to disregard the flesh, for it passes away; but to care for the soul, since it is immortal. Therefore, O Venerable John, thy spirit rejoiceth with the angels.”

And so, having received a particle of the saint’s vestments as a blessing, the pilgrims departed in peace, and his relics remained in the cave until August 15.

Fr. Ioanichie, his disciple, related that on the eve of the feast of the Dormition of the Most Holy Theotokos, the abbot of the Lavra brought a wooden coffin up into the cave and, together with the other hieromonks, placed his holy body—which was completely incorrupt and fragrant—into the coffin and censed it. On August 15, the patronal feast of the Monastery of St. George the Chozebite, several hierarchs, priests and monks, both Romanians and Greeks, arrived along with numerous Orthodox pilgrims. Then, amid the ringing of bells, the holy relics were brought down from the cave and translated in cross procession to the church of the Great Lavra, where they were placed next to other holy relics. Then forty Divine Liturgies were celebrated so that God might reveal the holiness of his relics. Thus, seeing that his body remained intact and untouched by decay even after this, everyone honored him as one worthy to shine among the Holy Fathers.

Subsequently, several Christ-loving believers made a new ebony coffin for him and placed the precious treasure inside it. Since the summer of 1980 and to this day, countless pilgrims—Romanians, Greeks, Cypriots, Serbs and people from other countries—have been flocking here to venerate him and beg for his blessing and help in the struggles of this life before the relics (glorified by God) of this new saint of the Orthodox Church, who became widely known under the names of St. John the New Chozebite or St. John (Iacob) of Neamț.

His numerous letters and spiritual poems are read with reverence by believers today and lead them on the path of salvation.

Holy Father John, pray to God for peace, for the people you came from, for the monasteries and believers, for the salvation of all the faithful and those who seek the Lord!

 

Source: https://orthochristian.com/179354.html

Archimandrite Seraphim (Alexiev) and Our Church Community

On the occasion of the 100th anniversary of the birth [2012] of Archimandrite Seraphim (Alexiev)

Nun Seraphima (Dimitrova)

This text was compiled on the basis of an account by Nun Euphrosynia and documents from the archives of the Convent of the Protection of the Most Holy Theotokos in Knyazhevo, Sofia.

 

 

1. Archimandrite Seraphim’s Spiritual Connection with Our Holy Monastery

During the 1950s and 1960s of the now-past century, Archimandrite Seraphim was perhaps the most popular and beloved cleric of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church. Both clergy and laity held him in high esteem. The church-going people did not miss his talks and divine services. In the years after September 9, 1944, when there was both open and covert persecution against the Church, against her ministers, and in general against Christians who led an active church life, the young Father Seraphim made a strong impression through his inspired preaching of the Orthodox faith. His wonderful, spiritually beneficial books and poems were copied by hand, by typewriter, and even by mimeograph of course, secretly, and were circulated among the faithful in our country. Some also sent them abroad to their relatives. Humble and meek in his dealings with others, Father Seraphim was firm and uncompromising in matters of faith. This became most evident when the reform of the church calendar was imposed in our country. Archimandrite Seraphim was one of the four clergymen who refused to accept it.

When, in 1967, it became known that the reform would be implemented the very next year, Archimandrite Seraphim spoke about this matter with Bishop Parthenii of Leuke and with Archimandrite Methodius (Zherev), because he was close to them—they too were spiritually connected, each to his own degree, with Saint Seraphim (Sobolev). From them Archimandrite Seraphim learned that they were preparing to accept the reform.

On the part of our monastery, Mother Abbess Seraphima and Nun Seraphima had firmly resolved to preserve what Saint Seraphim had bequeathed to them—to have nothing whatsoever to do with Ecumenism. They also remembered the serious arguments he had set forth at the Pan-Orthodox Conference in Moscow in 1948 against the new style, including in its mixed form, the so-called Revised Julian Calendar, with movable feasts according to the old style and fixed feasts according to the new. They knew that such a mixture leads to violations of the liturgical Typikon, to the shortening, and in individual cases even to the elimination, of the Apostles’ Fast, and in general that it was in no way justified from the standpoint of the liturgical tradition of the Orthodox Church. The claim of the supposedly greater astronomical accuracy of the new calendar was likewise unfounded. In reality, the reform was being carried out for the sake of ecumenical rapprochement with the heterodox, while in practice it led to distancing, confusion, and the alienation of the people from church traditions.

Archimandrite Seraphim, as a faithful spiritual son of Saint Seraphim, was firmly resolved to preserve his precepts. Knowing what paternal care the Saint had shown for the ordering of the Pokrov Monastery even on his deathbed, Archimandrite Seraphim was deeply concerned for our monastery, and he had particular respect for Mother Abbess. Mother Abbess, for her part, likewise respected and valued him greatly. She remembered Father Seraphim from his student years, when, until his departure abroad as a scholarship student, they had been in the same class at the Faculty of Theology. Even then he had distinguished himself by profound modesty, although he was one of the most capable students. When a professor asked him a question, he would answer very thoroughly, but without that self-confidence which is almost always noticeable in more gifted young people. Mother Abbess told us more than once about his modesty. She also told us how ardently he, as a young theologian after his return to Bulgaria, placed himself under the spiritual guidance of Saint Seraphim and with what complete trust he regarded him.

Obviously, Saint Seraphim likewise had such trust in the young clergyman. The following incident is indicative in this regard. On March 6 (New Style) / February 22 (Old Style), 1948, Saint Seraphim performed the tonsure of Mother Abbess Seraphima and her assistant, Nun Seraphima, in the Russian Church of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker. During the rite, he called Hieromonk Seraphim (Alexiev) and Hierodeacon Sergius (Yazadzhiev) to hand him the monastic garments of the sisters being tonsured. Other spiritual children of the Saint, senior to them, were present there. But Saint Seraphim chose precisely these two, and this can hardly have been accidental.

At the end of the 1940s, Bulgaria had a rationing system, and it was by no means easy to obtain even the most necessary things for our newly established monastery. At that time Saint Seraphim entrusted certain tasks to Hieromonk Seraphim. For example, he would ask him to obtain from the appropriate institution the allocation of ration coupons for several blankets or for several meters of black cloth… Everything at that time was distributed by allocation, and supplies were very difficult to obtain.

Thus, from the very beginning of our monastery, Father Seraphim found himself in some way spiritually connected with it through Saint Seraphim. But this spiritual bond manifested itself most strongly during the difficult years following the church-calendar reform. Mother Abbess Seraphima, Archimandrite Panteleimon, Archimandrite Seraphim, Archimandrite Sergius—these were the people who at that time showed complete unanimity in matters of faith and who, despite enormous pressure, did not agree to compromise their consciences.

2. The Exclusion of Our Monastery from the Diocese of the Bulgarian Patriarchate and the Suspension of the Clergy Who Disagreed with the Calendar Reform

On July 18, 1968, the Synod published its epistle to the clergy and the faithful, in which it announced the forthcoming church-calendar reform. The change of calendar was to take place on December 20 (December 7, Old Style).

At our previous meeting here, in December of last year, mention was made of how, on December 2 (New Style), 1968, on the day when the icon of the Mother of God “Consolation in Sorrows and Griefs” is commemorated, we delivered to the Committee the prepared letter to Patriarch Kirill, in which we stated that in conscience we could not accept the new style. However, the humble written request of Mother Abbess Seraphima and of our sisterhood that we be permitted to continue our liturgical life according to the church calendar, the so-called “old style,” was refused. Moreover, ten days later, on December 12 (New Style), in the reply sent to us by the Sofia Metropolis, the categorical resolution of Patriarch Kirill was quoted: “This would mean falling away from the Bulgarian Orthodox Church.”

Not long afterward, we received another similar notification. Our annual budget for 1969, which had been sent to the Sofia Metropolis for the customary annual approval, was returned to us with an accompanying letter, No. 364 of February 1. The contents of this letter were as follows: “To the former abbess of the former monastery in Knyazhevo. The enclosed budget is being returned to you, since no such monastery exists within the jurisdiction of the Holy Sofia Metropolis.”

A short time passed, and we received a new letter, No. 1400 of February 17, 1969. It was sent to us by the Holy Synod of the Bulgarian Patriarchate in connection with the customary supply of candles to church institutions. Its contents were as follows: “To the former women’s monastery ‘Protection of the Most Holy Mother of God,’ Knyazhevo district, Sofia. In accordance with the decision of the Holy Synod of February 4, 1969, Protocol No. 3, we inform you that, since you have fallen away from the jurisdiction of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, you may not receive candles for church use at the established prices for stavropegial and diocesan monasteries…”

Thus, in practice, not because of any self-willed decision on our part, but because of the reaction of Patriarch Kirill, as early as December 1968 our monastery found itself outside the administrative system of the Bulgarian Patriarchate.

Unfortunately, the church authorities began to undertake a series of repressive measures against us, probably in order to force us to retreat from our principled position. The main monastery church, “St. Apostle and Evangelist Luke,” was taken away from us. We were deprived of the principal activity by which we supported ourselves—the painting of icons for the needs of the Synod. Then we were also deprived of the right to receive church candles. We were left without public divine services, and with that our modest church income also ceased. The sisters who produced various church articles, Easter decals, small household iconostases, burial shrouds, decorative candles, and others, were dismissed from the “Church Monopolies” department of the Sofia Metropolis. The head of that department himself, Mr. Zlati Zlatev, was also dismissed because of his expressed disagreement with the church-calendar reform. And all of this happened within a very short period of time, during which we were unable to reorganize ourselves and secure a livelihood. It was truly very difficult, but we understood that, since we had decided not to compromise our conscience and our faith, we had to endure and persevere. Above all, we hoped in God’s help, in the protection of the Mother of God, and in the heavenly intercession of Saint Seraphim.

Strong psychological pressure was also exerted on Archimandrite Seraphim. The faithful and the clergy loved him, and therefore his unexpected withdrawal from church life and from the Theological Academy caused agitation among many who could not understand the principled basis of his position and reduced it almost to a kind of obstinacy. At the same time, Archimandrite Sergius (Yazadzhiev) likewise ceased his teaching activity at the Academy, but not voluntarily, as Archimandrite Seraphim had done; rather, he was removed on grounds of “unsuitability,” despite the fact that everyone knew how extensive his knowledge was in the fields of the New Testament and classical philology.

On June 17, 1969, at a session of the Holy Synod, Patriarch Kirill resorted to an even more severe sanction, imposing a prohibition on serving upon the four clergymen who disagreed with the church-calendar reform—Archimandrite Panteleimon, Archimandrite Seraphim, Archimandrite Sergius, and Hieromonk Seraphim (Dmitrievsky). At that very time, during the hour when the Synod was in session, a terrible storm broke over Sofia, and whole rivers of water flowed through the streets. That evening Archimandrite Seraphim came to the monastery deeply distressed, in order to tell Mother Abbess what had happened.

The clergymen who had been placed under suspension, in a spirit of Christian humility, submitted to the punishment imposed upon them, although in conscience they did not feel bound by it, because it was contrary to the canons of the Orthodox Church. Meanwhile, both Mother Abbess and Archimandrite Seraphim were seeking some way to regularize our situation. Father Seraphim and Father Sergius twice gave their consent before the Holy Synod to be sent to the Zographou Monastery on the Holy Mountain, but on both occasions the Greek authorities did not permit them to go. They accepted this as the will of God that they should remain in Bulgaria with their like-minded brothers and sisters in the faith and support one another.

Patriarch Kirill, seeing that the pressure being exerted was producing no result, conceived the idea of destroying the Knyazhevo Monastery. He began preparing for its closure and for our resettlement to the then-deserted Gigen Monastery, where even the most elementary living conditions were lacking, as well as suitable means of livelihood for infirm people, as almost all of us were.

3. Permission for Divine Services According to the Patristic Church Calendar Behind Closed Doors

In those difficult days, the only “weapon” of Mother Abbess Seraphima and of us, the sisters of the monastery, was fervent prayer to the Lord and to the Mother of God, the Protectress of our holy monastery—a prayer with repentance and an awareness of our complete unworthiness, placing our hope in God’s mercy. And just as at the beginning of our sorrowful path, immediately after our refusal to accept the reform of the church calendar, the icon of the Most Holy Theotokos “Consolation in Sorrows and Griefs” had been painted in the monastery in order to implore the intercession of the Mother of God, so now Mother Abbess blessed Sister Magdalina, together with Nun Seraphima, to paint the Kazan Icon of the Mother of God, so that She might help us amid the difficult circumstances that had surrounded us on every side. Work on the icon began in July 1970 and continued until the middle of September.

Meanwhile, the repressive treatment of us and of our clergymen who had not accepted the church-calendar reform became known beyond the borders of Bulgaria. News reached the heads of the Committee for the Affairs of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church and the Other Religious Cults, Mr. Mikhail Kyuchukov and Mr. Dimitar Todorov, that the Russian émigré charitable organization, the Tolstoy Foundation, based in the United States, had expressed its readiness to give refuge to the nuns of Knyazhevo and to provide for their support. This offer was received at the monastery on August 24, 1970. It then became clear to the authorities that the problem of the Knyazhevo Monastery and of the clergymen who had not accepted the reformed calendar might attract the attention of public circles in the Western world and, as a violation of religious rights and freedom of conscience, provoke an undesirable reaction. A few days later, we addressed a letter to Patriarch Kirill in which we asked permission to resume divine services in the monastery. Otherwise, we expressed our readiness to seek another church jurisdiction where we could freely confess and practice the Orthodox faith in its fullness and purity. Because of the danger that our situation might become a matter of public concern at the international level, Patriarch Kirill was compelled to yield. Through the mediation of the Committee for the Affairs of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, which was interested in preventing such publicity, Patriarch Kirill unofficially permitted our chaplains to serve in our monastery “behind closed doors.”

We received this long-awaited permission on the feast of the Nativity of the Most Holy Theotokos, September 21 (New Style), 1970, a few days after Mother Abbess herself had lit a perpetual lamp before the now-completed Kazan Icon of the Mother of God. That very day, on the eve of the feast of the holy and righteous Ancestors of God Joachim and Anna and of Saint Joseph of Volotsk, after an interruption of more than a year, our divine services were resumed, but now under catacomb conditions. Our joy was indescribable.

We should note that despite the repressive attitude of the church authorities toward our clergymen and toward us ourselves, and despite the fact that our monastery had been excluded from the Bulgarian Patriarchate, we, the sisters of the Knyazhevo Monastery, did not break church communion with the hierarchy of the Patriarchate, and during our divine services the name of the Bulgarian Patriarch Kirill was commemorated, and after his death in March 1971, that of Patriarch Maksim.

At the beginning of 1972, Archimandrite Panteleimon fell ill and for a long time was unable to serve. Great Lent began, and Holy Week was approaching. The already elderly Hieromonk Seraphim continued serving alone without relief, but given his many illnesses, this was extremely exhausting for him. We then appealed to the Holy Synod with a request that Archimandrite Seraphim be permitted to take part in the divine services of our monastery. Just before the Raising of Lazarus, we received a positive response to our petition. We were filled with gratitude to God, and Father Seraphim recorded the following in his diary:

“What God is so great as our God! Thou art the God Who doest wonders! (Ps. 76:14-15) About three years ago, the late Patriarch Kirill threatened us that if we served after the suspension imposed upon us, the Holy Synod would put us on trial and depose us. But now, by God’s great mercy, the Holy Synod itself permits me, though suspended, to serve! And I served my first Liturgy on Palm Sunday. For me, that radiant feast was a true Pascha. Both compunction and joy, and boundless gratitude to the Saviour, filled my wretched heart.”

Soon afterward, Archimandrite Seraphim settled near the monastery, in the home of Mrs. Ekaterina Dyulgerova, and after some time he was also given a cell in the newly built wooden monastery building beside the Church of St. Apostle and Evangelist Luke. He lived there for more than ten years, after which he moved into the cell of the by-then reposed Archimandrite Panteleimon. The years he spent at the monastery he devoted to intensive writing. It was precisely here that he produced some of his finest works: Life After Life, Our Prayer, On the Lord’s Prayer, The Optina Elders, The Prayer of St. Ephraim the Syrian in the Light of Patristic Teaching, as well as his major theological work, a critique of the ecumenical heresy, Why We Are Not and Why We Cannot Be Ecumenists.

In August 1972, Archimandrite Sergius likewise received unofficial permission to participate in the divine services of our monastery behind closed doors. His first service was on the feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord.

4. Cessation of the Commemoration of Patriarch Maksim

During the 1970s and the beginning of the 1980s, the ecumenical movement was developing at an accelerated pace, and the Bulgarian Patriarchate was becoming ever more deeply involved in it. Concern over all this became the reason for the establishment at the monastery of a special theological commission, which was to monitor and analyze not only current events, but above all the anti-ecclesiastical essence of ecumenical ideology and practice. The work of the commission proceeded under the particular care of Mother Abbess Seraphima. The commission met every Sunday, and its participants were Archimandrite Seraphim, Archimandrite Sergius, Mother Abbess Seraphima, the monastery’s faithful associate Zlati Zlatev, and Rosen Siromakhov, a student of the classics who had graduated in theology. Archimandrite Panteleimon was no longer among the living; he reposed on January 18 (New Style), 1980. Naturally, the central figure of the theological commission was Archimandrite Seraphim. In the course of its work, he developed his grounds for rejecting the ecumenical pan-heresy, which he later set forth in the aforementioned theological work Why We Are Not and Why We Cannot Be Ecumenists, published at the end of 1992 under the title Orthodoxy and Ecumenism.

Meanwhile, on May 9, 1981, an important event occurred in the life of the small church community that had formed around the monastery. On their way back from Romania to Greece, a group of clergymen from the True Orthodox Church of Greece visited our monastery. Among them were four bishops, one of whom was Bishop Cyprian, who later became Metropolitan of Oropos and Fili. In a conversation with Archimandrite Seraphim and Mother Abbess Seraphima, he told them that, should the need arise, he was prepared to perform ordinations of new clergymen. During the following years, Metropolitan Cyprian repeatedly visited our monastery during his periodic journeys to Romania and back.

In January 1982, the latest working meeting of the Commission on “Faith and Order” was held in Lima, Peru, at which an important ecumenical document entitled “BEM” [Baptism, Eucharist, Ministry] was adopted. In essence, it constituted a minimal dogmatic-liturgical basis for the unity of Christians, which was to be accepted by the member churches of the WCC during the forthcoming Sixth Assembly in Vancouver in 1983. The theological commission at the monastery studied in detail the contents of this document, in whose preparation Orthodox (?!) theologians had also participated. A specially prepared ecumenical “rite” was also announced, the so-called “Lima Liturgy,” which provided for intercommunion—the joint reception of Communion by representatives of the various confessions participating in the WCC, among them the local Orthodox Churches.

With church events developing in this way, the clergymen of our monastery—Archimandrite Seraphim and Archimandrite Sergius—together with Mother Abbess Seraphima (Hieromonk Seraphim was already seriously ill), decided that it was no longer possible to continue their church communion with the episcopate of the Bulgarian Patriarchate, since this burdened their consciences in an unacceptable manner. By a concurrence of circumstances, this momentous decision was made by them precisely before the fresco of the Mother of God “The Unburnt Bush,” painted during those years in the exterior niche of the altar apse of the Pokrov Chapel, so that She might be our Guide amid the storms of the difficult times that had come upon us. This took place on May 16 (New Style), 1983, when the memory of Saint Theodosius of the Kiev Caves is celebrated—the day on which, in 1950, our monastery had been officially opened. Beginning the following day, May 17 (New Style), because of the exceptional situation of our monastery behind the communist “Iron Curtain” and the impossibility of direct episcopal guidance, during the divine services, instead of the name of the Bulgarian Patriarch Maksim, “every Orthodox bishop” began to be commemorated.

It is well known that the prayerful commemoration of a hierarch during the divine services is an expression of complete agreement with him in matters of faith. And this means that when you commemorate the name of a bishop who, in word and/or deed, departs from the dogmas or canons of the Orthodox faith, you express your agreement with him and consequently become a participant in his apostasy.

In that same year, 1983, following the scandalous ecumenical manifestations that took place at the Assembly in Vancouver, the Synod of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside of Russia, then headed by Saint Philaret (Voznesensky), pronounced an anathema against Ecumenism as an ecclesiological heresy. This once again confirmed the timeliness of our serious step.

5. The Need for Clergy in Our Holy Monastery. The First Ordination

As we have already mentioned, at the beginning of 1980 the ever-memorable Archimandrite Panteleimon reposed in the Lord. In December 1984, Hieromonk Seraphim (Dmitrievsky) followed him into eternity. In our monastery, from the very time of its establishment in 1950, the entire daily cycle of divine services was performed, crowned by the Holy Divine Liturgy. But the age and state of health of Archimandrite Seraphim and Archimandrite Sergius did not allow them to undertake the ascetic labor of such a difficult and indispensable daily ministry. This made it necessary to prepare for and carry out secret ordinations, through which new clergymen could enter into the liturgical life of our small Orthodox community. For this purpose, Archimandrite Seraphim and Mother Abbess Seraphima began, most conscientiously and carefully, to study the history and development of the Old Calendar movement in Greece and its sorrowful division into several separate groups. As a result of this investigation, they established that the ecclesiological position of the Synod in Resistance, with whose president, Metropolitan Cyprian, Divine Providence had brought us into contact several years earlier, was the most acceptable and closest to our own. After the necessary preparation and instruction, in which Archimandrite Sergius took the most active part, the first to be ordained was the monastery’s longtime helper, Petar Radenkov, who had previously been secretly tonsured a monk with the name Ephraim. His ordination to the diaconate and presbyterate took place in our monastery on May 28 and May 30 (New Style), 1985, respectively, under catacomb conditions.

In 1988, during a journey to Greece, the spiritual son of Archimandrite Seraphim, the young theologian and classics graduate Rosen Siromakhov, was also secretly ordained to the diaconate and priesthood at the Monastery of Sts. Cyprian and Justina. He subsequently received monastic tonsure with the name Photios. Until the collapse of the communist regime, and thereafter until he received episcopal consecration, he served secretly in our monastery while at the same time working as a lecturer at Sofia University. Later, the monks Cassian, Theophan, and Seraphim were secretly ordained to the diaconate and priesthood. As hieromonks, they performed the daily divine services in our monastery under catacomb conditions. Archimandrite Seraphim and Archimandrite Sergius, for their part, performed the Sunday and feast-day services. At that time these events were known only to an extremely small circle of people, because of the inevitable crushing blow that the authorities would have dealt to our small community had they learned of the secret ordinations that had been performed.

Since Archimandrite Seraphim felt that his strength was gradually leaving him, and Mother Abbess Seraphima was likewise advancing in age, they were concerned about how the future existence of our church community, which was gradually growing, would continue. It was becoming increasingly obvious that at some point it would become necessary for it to be headed by a bishop. And here we should note that both Archimandrite Seraphim and Mother Abbess Seraphima, without any hesitation whatsoever, had determined that the most suitable person to bear the heavy and responsible cross of episcopal ministry was the secret priest Rosen Siromakhov, subsequently Hieromonk Photios. Metropolitan Cyprian was of the same opinion. They waited for God’s will in this matter to be revealed in the course of time and through the development of church circumstances.

6. The Grave Illness of Archimandrite Seraphim. The Consecration of Bishop Photios

During the last years of his life, Archimandrite Seraphim was visited by a grave illness. The Lord willed to grant yet another crown to His faithful servant, who bore the bodily and spiritual sufferings that befell him with great patience and humility.

Meanwhile, at the beginning of the 1990s, political changes took place. Along with them, among the people in our catacomb community there arose the hope that under the new conditions, in which there was no longer any danger of persecution or coercion of conscience, the higher clergy of the Bulgarian Patriarchate would distance themselves from the destructive factors that until then had determined its ecclesiastical-political course and would begin actively to work for the revival of the faith, for a return to traditional Orthodox values, for the condemnation of Ecumenism, and for the restoration of the church calendar in liturgical life. More than three years passed, however, without any constructive changes occurring in the life of the official Bulgarian Church. For the members of our community—clergy, monastics, and laity—it became increasingly clear that our expectations for positive changes were groundless, since the actions of the episcopate of the official Church continued to bear the oppressive imprint placed upon it by the godless totalitarian system.

The growing spiritual needs of the community no longer permitted the episcopal consecration of Hieromonk Photios (Siromakhov) to be postponed. As is well known, it was performed at the Monastery of Sts. Cyprian and Justina in Fili, Greece, on January 17 (New Style), 1993, by four bishops of the Synod in Resistance, with the participation of a hierarch from the Romanian Old Calendar Orthodox Church as well. When Bishop Photios returned to Bulgaria, he found Archimandrite Seraphim already on his deathbed and, having received his spiritual blessing, accompanied him on his final journey into eternity on January 26 (New Style). At that moment we all experienced great sorrow, but also great joy: a wonderful clergyman had departed from us, an uncompromising confessor of Orthodoxy, a preacher of piety, an inspired poet, and a caring spiritual father, but he had passed the torch of spiritual continuity to a faithful son of his, who had already taken upon his shoulders the heavy episcopal cross of responsibility for the faith and for those seeking salvation through it.

7. The Emergence of the Old Calendar Orthodox Church of Bulgaria—A Natural Process under Conditions of Advancing Apostasy from the Orthodox Faith

From the events described here, we see that the formation of our church community was the result of the striving of a small group of clergy, nuns, and laypeople to remain faithful to the Tradition of the Church, to preserve it in its truth and fullness, and not to participate in any way whatsoever in the works of Ecumenism. Ecumenism, which boasts of love and tolerance toward the heterodox and those of other religions, yet is ready to deal harshly with those Orthodox Christians who care deeply for the purity of their faith and wish to preserve it for the sake of the salvation of human souls.

Why, in celebrating the 100th anniversary of the birth of our unforgettable Father Archimandrite Seraphim, have we attempted to recount, in broad outline, the history of our church community as well?—Because today, very often in the circles of the official Church and, unfortunately, especially in the circles of the so-called supporters of the struggle for Orthodoxy “from within,” it is said that our community arose after the death of Archimandrite Seraphim and that he had no direct connection with its history or with its subsequent development. As has become clear from our account, this does not correspond to the truth. Now headed by a bishop for nineteen years, our Orthodox community developed and grew gradually over the course of more than four decades. At its foundation lie the labors of Archimandrite Seraphim and Mother Abbess Seraphima—the people who did not compromise their consciences for the sake of earthly well-being and earthly tranquility, but who, at the cost of many sorrows and hardships, remained faithful to the precepts of their spiritual father, Saint Seraphim, and through this, faithful to our Lord Jesus Christ and to His Holy Church. May we also, through their holy prayers, strive to manifest such saving faithfulness.

 

Bulgarian source: https://bulgarian-orthodox-church.org/rr/lode/MSeraphima/aSOCC.html

The Vacant Churches of the Moscow Patriarchate

“Copy and Paste”: Why are churches becoming empty, and is this connected with the special military operation?

 August 3, 2026


 

“Ye shall see the abomination of desolation <…> standing in the holy place…”

(Matthew 24:15)

 

The Numbers Don’t Lie

The Orthodox television channel “Soyuz,” which belongs to the Yekaterinburg Diocese of the Russian Orthodox Church, broadcasts the Liturgy live every day. Cameras are set up in different churches—most often in Moscow or St. Petersburg, but sometimes in provincial churches, even rural ones. Yet whatever the church may be, almost all broadcasts demonstrate a phenomenon distressing for the Russian Orthodox Church: the churches have emptied. As a rule, only a few people are present at the Liturgies. Even at solemn Patriarchal services in the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour, if it is not Christmas or Pascha, small groups of lay worshippers occupy only a modest part of the church space in front of the iconostasis.

At first glance, the sparse attendance at services in Russia appears paradoxical. In the atheistic USSR, functioning churches were overcrowded. In modern Russia, whose authorities have proclaimed themselves the “Katechon”—the restraining power that holds back the forces of the Antichrist, and the last guardian of a unique Orthodox spirituality and traditional values—the churches seem to have become largely unwanted.

Patriarch Alexy II is credited with the admission: “The people are leaving the Church.” In his report to a meeting of the Moscow clergy in 2004, he argued that what repels people most is “the greed of priests and church personnel.” The merging of the Church with the authorities and large state-owned capital has led to the ecclesiastical corporation becoming less and less dependent on the money of ordinary parishioners and increasingly integrated into budgets at various levels.

Special boards of trustees have been established at major cathedrals and monasteries, bringing together officials and representatives of business, who “make contributions” in exchange for guarantees of relative immunity—not from the Church, of course.

The outflow of parishioners only intensified during the patriarchate of Kirill. At first, attempts were made to combat this with Photoshop—the Patriarch’s press service would “paste in” the missing parishioners onto photographs posted on the Patriarchate’s website. They were jokingly called “kopipastvoy” [copy and paste]. But this practice was quickly abandoned—it only damaged the already difficult reputation of the current Patriarch.

Official Russian sociology records a steady decline in “institutional” religiosity. According to a February study by the Levada Center*, the proportion of Russians who do not attend church services at all exceeded half for the first time since the 1990s, reaching 55%. In June of last year, this figure was only 44%. According to these data, only 16% of those surveyed can be considered relatively church-going, meaning that they attend church once a month or more often. Among young people under the age of 25, the proportion of those who never enter a church reached 68%, and among students, 71%. At the same time, 73% of Russians identify themselves “with Orthodoxy,” but, as numerous other studies show, such identification does not necessarily imply even belief in God.

For many Russians, “being Orthodox” means identifying oneself with a particular ethnoculture rather than with religion as such.

A more reliable picture of the level of religiosity is provided by measurements of church attendance on the principal feasts—Christmas and Pascha—conducted by the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Thus, in 2024, at the height of patriotic mobilization around the special military operation, Christmas services were attended by about 1.4 million Russians, that is, approximately 1 (one) percent of the population. Attendance at Paschal services is higher, which is connected with a change in the counting methodology insisted upon by Patriarch Kirill. Now the Paschal statistics include not only those praying at the service, but also those who come to have kulichi and eggs blessed. In 2023, there were approximately 2.8 million such people. According to a VTsIOM survey conducted in April 2024, only 12% of Gen Z respondents born in the twenty-first century and 18% of millennials born in the 1990s acknowledged the importance of Pascha. The Sreda research service, which is close to the Russian Orthodox Church, acknowledges that only 5% of Russians who call themselves Orthodox consider “spiritual, mystical life” in the Church important to them.

Factors Behind the Outflow

The decline of real, as opposed to professed, religiosity in Russia is taking place against the backdrop of the cynical use of the Church for the propaganda of state ideology and the special military operation. Church attendance, far more than millions of the most carefully chosen words, speaks to how such propaganda is actually perceived by the people.

COVID also contributed to the outflow of parishioners: first came the active campaigning by the Patriarch and representatives of the Russian Orthodox Church against attending churches, with references to ancient saints who attained salvation even without churches; then came the spread of the virus among the most conservative clergy and parishioners, who demonstrated the strength of their faith by refusing to observe anti-virus measures. Several bishops, hundreds of priests, and tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of laypeople who had made up the old core of active parishioners fell victim to the pandemic within the Russian Orthodox Church.

Growing public dissatisfaction with the Russian Orthodox Church is being restrained by repressive practices, including the more active application of Article 148 of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation (“offending the feelings of believers”). It has begun to be applied frequently and on increasingly trivial grounds. For example, this Pascha, Ksenia Belousova, an employee of one of Moscow’s bars, was detained after she made a “hookah on a kulich.” Despite publicly repenting, she was sentenced to three years in a penal colony, although she has now been released. Recently, a case was opened under the same article against Omsk artist Nikita Pozdnyakov, who was denounced by the “Sorok Sorokov” movement, which is affiliated with the Russian Orthodox Church. One of Pozdnyakov’s paintings depicts a police officer in the image of Christ with a halo. The purely “secular,” militaristic propaganda pouring forth from the church ambo, especially when accompanied by repression against those who disagree with it, creates an impression of ideological diktat from which one wants to protect oneself, to hide.

Coinciding with this factor was a “change of generations”—the pool of post-Soviet converts “from the 1990s” began to dwindle, while no new generation of converts arose to replace them.

The neophyte movement of the 1990s was in many respects situational and opportunistic: the slogan of rejecting state ideology and embracing absolute pluralism was put forward in Russia, but was never fully realized. The Soviet type of ideological conditioning was fairly quickly replaced by a pseudo-traditionalist one, embodied by the Russian Orthodox Church and the other “traditional confessions” that recognize the primacy of the Russian Orthodox Church. More precisely, the old Soviet matrix was quickly filled with new—though in fact long-forgotten old—quasi-religious content.

The dissident writer and philosopher Alexander Zinoviev described the “depth” of the religious conversion of the neophytes of the 1990s as follows:

“Convinced atheists from the Party apparatus and the intelligentsia were transformed overnight into equally convinced believers and made their contribution to church-building with the same enthusiasm with which their predecessors in the 1920s and 1930s had contributed to church-destruction.”

For many of those who came into the Church, such “conviction” went no further than the elementary impulse, cultivated by the experience of Soviet life, to keep in step with the authorities, bending along with the “Party line.”

The head of the Department of Sociology at the Russian State University for the Humanities, Academician Zhan Toshchenko, divides post-Soviet Orthodox converts into five categories: ordinary careerist officials; hypocritical imitators, who actively filled the ranks of the clergy where there were shortages; “Orthodox atheists” of the Luzhkov or Lukashenko type, who paradoxically combine their old and new identities; professional “advocates” of the Russian Orthodox Church, whose incomes are tied to working for the corporation; and radical extremists.

If the first four categories can hardly be described as “deeply religious,” the last became disillusioned with the leadership of the Russian Orthodox Church fairly quickly—already in the 2000s, and especially under Kirill—replenishing the ranks of the numerous jurisdictions of “alternative” Orthodoxy or the “non-commemorators,” “Tsar-worshippers,” “anti-vaxxers,” and the like, who constitute a muted opposition within the Russian Orthodox Church.

“Divine” Ideology and “Civil” Religion

Konstantin Kharchev, chairman of the Council for Religious Affairs under the USSR Council of Ministers during the Gorbachev era, claimed that the broad and pompous celebration of the anniversary of Russian Orthodoxy in 1988 had been initiated by the authorities—that part of the Party (and KGB) nomenklatura which realized that, in place of a communism that had lost its value, the people had to be “given” a new ideology.

This ideology matured gradually, absorbing various elements, and today it is called “traditional values” or “spiritual bonds.”

No one knows the complete list of these values or bonds, but at every opportunity it is emphasized that they are opposed to everything “Western”—individualism, liberalism, human rights, and so on.

So opposed, in fact, that, in the words of the head of the Russian Orthodox Church, “when it became clear that there was no longer anything in common [between us and the West], this led to military confrontation.”

Thus, in Russia, Christianity—and Orthodoxy in particular—was replaced by a “civil” religion, which gradually became a “political” one. The difference between them is that the former ostensibly rests upon a Higher, religious sanction, while the latter proclaims itself to be the primary source of Truth and itself grants sanction to institutions, including the Church. Putin’s “prophetic” phrases, such as “We will go to paradise as martyrs, while they will simply croak,” are quoted from church ambons without being questioned, while the Patriarch declares that Putin’s rule should continue until the end of time. In Christian eschatology, the teaching concerning the end times, “political” religion is embodied in the figure of the Antichrist—a totalitarian ruler “who exalteth himself above all that is called God, or that is worshipped” (2 Thess. 2:4)…

The New Atheism and the New Faith

And yet, in proclaiming the complete incompatibility of the “Russian world” with the West, Patriarch Kirill is presenting wishful thinking as reality. The process of parishioners drifting away from traditional churches and the onset of an era of “individual spiritual do-it-yourself constructions” are unfolding simultaneously in both worlds.

Approximately 20 years ago, the term “New Atheism” (NA) entered the scholarly vocabulary of Western religious studies. This phenomenon is described as a secular response to the challenges of religious fundamentalism, primarily Islamic fundamentalism, with the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 serving as its point of departure.

The American publicist and popularizer of science Sam Harris published the “programmatic” book The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason in 2004, which became a manifesto of the New Atheism. It was followed by Richard Dawkins’s The God Delusion; Daniel Dennett’s Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon; Victor Stenger’s God: The Failed Hypothesis; and Christopher Hitchens’s God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything. All of them were translated into Russian and published in Moscow between 2008 and 2013, something that is difficult to imagine under present conditions.

The “New Atheism” differs from classical atheism, especially militant atheism, in that it opposes totalitarianism from liberal positions while entering into dialogue with “reasonable forms of religiosity.”

Some researchers call it “intheism”—a doctrine that does not categorically deny the existence of God, but rejects dogmas and opposes all forms of coercion in matters of choosing one’s worldview.

Like the “New Atheism,” a “new religiosity” is also gradually taking shape, which is described as “post-secular.” Its adherents find the confines of traditional religions too restrictive and assemble personal spiritual constructs from elements of different traditions that they find useful or simply interesting.

The fertile ground for such construction within the Western Christian milieu was prepared by Ecumenism—the movement for Christian unity across confessional and theological boundaries. By the end of the twentieth century, this movement had grown to the scale of super-Ecumenism, postulating unity with believers even beyond the bounds of Christianity. The basic—and perhaps only—“dogma” of super-Ecumenism is the recognition that all religions are different paths to one and the same Higher Principle. The Parliament of the World’s Religions is engaged in developing this doctrine. Within the syncretistic “New Age” movement, even this doctrinal minimum is not required; spiritual practices are considered equally accessible to believers and nonbelievers alike.

“New Atheism” and “post-secularism” have helped Western society travel an enormous distance from the head-on collision between religious fundamentalism and secular culture, about which Samuel Huntington warned, toward a pluralism of individual spiritual constructs. No religious tradition, even one that only recently seemed dangerous or hostile, is rejected or dismissed out of hand. It is regarded as a resource for adding to the storehouse of “spiritual knowledge” and for seeking new “practices of self-purification.”

Professor Jürgen Habermas of the University of Frankfurt sees the essence of “post-secularism” in the fact that the question of philosophical truth is bracketed out of the political process.

The state and its institutions recognize the equal standing of the religious and the secular, since absolutizing either of these principles carries the danger of totalitarianism. In other words, if the state or a powerful political leader begins to “philosophize,” they are close to sliding into totalitarianism.

A leader has the right to “preach the truth” only in his free time, outside the performance of his official duties.

…But this is an ideal of religious studies and philosophy. In the specific historical conditions of the Russian Federation, New Atheism functions as one of the few permitted forms of legal protest, albeit one confined to the private sphere. Most often, it is a social position, an indicator of group identity, rather than the fruit of a serious choice of worldview or a rejection of a religious tradition that “protest” atheists, as a rule, have never properly studied. For many, the Russian Orthodox Church itself has blocked the path to such study. Under conditions in which the free competition of ideas and teachings, including religious ones, is effectively prohibited, it is hardly possible to speak of a responsible choice of worldview. Everything becomes far too black-and-white.

 

* Designated a “foreign agent” by the authorities of the Russian Federation.

 

Russian source: https://novayagazeta.ru/articles/2026/08/03/kopipastva

Tuesday, August 4, 2026

Two schisms: Why did Bulgaria succeed in what Ukraine cannot?

Kirill Aleksandrov | January 15, 2020

[The recent Bulgarian schism was ostensibly a contributing factor in the denial of legal recognition to the Bulgarian GOC. – Blog Admin. note]

 

 

How the Pan-Orthodox Council helped to overcome the schism in Bulgaria that arose simultaneously with Filaret-initiated split.

In 1992, almost simultaneously with our so-called “Filaret’s split”, there was a split in Bulgaria. In 1998, it was healed [sic: not completely – Blog Admin.]. Why did it work in Bulgaria but not with us? What role did the Constantinople Patriarchate play in the former and the latter case? And is it possible to draw on the Bulgarian experience to solve the Ukrainian church issue?

In short, the history of the Bulgarian schism looks as follows.

In the late 1980s, when the so-called socialist camp had already disintegrated and the Soviet Union was on the verge of this, the wind of change was also blowing in Bulgaria. This wind brought along the conviction that everything Western and capitalist is good, and everything Soviet and Communist is bad. Moreover, one must break immediately and decisively with this hated past.

We will not evaluate how justified this approach is in the realm of politics or economics, but let us say that in church-related matters it is basically inappropriate. Yet, unfortunately, such a rebellious spirit penetrates the Church. And in the Church there are people, usually young and ambitious, who urge to destroy everything “to the foundation, and then ...”, as the International song goes.

Back in 1989, Hieromonk Christopher (Sybev)* came to the fore in Bulgaria, who stated that the Church needed a “new democratic Synod” instead of the old one, which allegedly tarnished itself having relations with the communist regime. Contrary to the opinion of his hierarchy, he founded a committee for the protection of religious rights, which was supposed to contribute to the "democratization" of church governance.

And in 1990, priest and professor of canon law Radko Poptodorov published an article in which he directly accused the Synod of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church (BOC) in collaboration with the communist government and criticized the election of Bulgarian Patriarch Maxim in 1971.

The wind of change brought along the conviction that everything Western and capitalist is good, and everything Soviet and Communist is bad. Moreover, one must break immediately and decisively with this hated past.

In 1991, the Union of Democratic Forces party won the next election in Bulgaria, the ideology of which was a radical break with the “hated” past and a reversal to the West. Hieromonk Christopher (Sybev) not only became a member of parliament from this political force but also headed the Parliamentary Commission for Religious Affairs.

In 1992, this commission raised the question of the illegality of the election of Patriarch Maxim in 1971. It was supported by the Directorate of Religion to the Council of Ministers of Bulgaria, which by its decision declared the election of Patriarch Maxim in 1971 illegal, while the patriarch himself as deposed.

The Bulgarian authorities of that time demonstrated a very peculiar understanding of the democratic principle of separation of the Church from the state. In this they even were able to one-up the Ukrainian authorities, which did not recognize the Kharkov Council in 1992 as legal and the removal of Filaret Denisenko from the administration of the UOC.

Here is the first difference between the Bulgarian schism and the Filaret-led schism. Whereas in the former case, the authorities ganged up against Patriarch Maxim for allegedly collaborating with the KGB, then in Ukraine the authorities warmly supported Denisenko, who was simply the embodiment of such cooperation in its closest form.

Almost simultaneously with the decision of the Directorate of Religions, the illegality of the election of Patriarch Maxim was also announced by a group of six bishops. By the way, literally a few days later this group increased to seven, since it "ordained" Hieromonk Christopher (Sybev) "bishops".

In this respect we can point out the following difference: in Bulgaria, although scanty but still a group of hierarchs, who were canonical clergymen at the time of the split, fell into schism. In Ukraine, only one vicar bishop, Bishop Jacob (Panchuk) of Pochaev who had been earlier expelled by the brethren from the Pochaev Monastery, followed Filaret.

The rebellious Bulgarian hierarchs demanded to remove Patriarch Maxim and call new elections. However, most hierarchs and clergy remained loyal to the Patriarch and the Synod. Then the rebels organized an “alternative Synod”, at the head of which they appointed Metropolitan Pimen (Enev), senior by ordination and, relying on the support of the authorities, began the raider seizure of the canonical Church.

They "ordained" the "alternative hierarchs", took over the Synodal Chamber in Sofia, which housed the Supreme Administration of the BOC, as well as Sofia Theological Seminary and Academy, which became known subsequently as the Theological Department at Sofia University of St. Clement of Ohrid. By the way, Professor Radko Poptodorov, the author of the first article with attacks on Patriarch Maxim, was appointed the new rector of the Academy.

The Bulgarian authorities recognized the “alternative Synod” as the only legitimate governing body of the BOC and transferred all church property to its disposal.

In Bulgaria, although scanty but a group of hierarchs, who were canonical hierarchs at the time of the split, fell into schism. In Ukraine, only one vicar bishop followed Filaret.

In 1996, Metropolitan Pimen of Nevrokop was elevated to the rank of “patriarch”. Filaret Denisenko took direct part in his enthronement, who by that time had already become the Kiev “patriarch,” replacing Vladimir Romaniuk, who died under obscure circumstances.

At that time, both Filaret and his foreign schismatic colleagues actively promoted the theory of the self-sufficient “alternative family” of the Orthodox Churches and therefore entered into communion with all religious crooks in different countries who agreed to this state of affairs.

In the same 1996 year, a Bishops’ Council of Bulgaria was held, which resolved to remain faithful to Patriarch Maxim. It excommunicated Pimen from the Church and deprived all hierarchs, who were “ordained” in schism, of their dignity.

Since 1992, when the Bulgarian schism arose, along with the "ordination" of the "alternative hierarchs and the seizure of church property, the reverse process took place. Some bishops and clergy brought repentance and returned to the fold of the canonical BOC.

A common feature of the Bulgarian and Ukrainian schisms is that all the Local Churches dissociated themselves point-blank from any support for the schismatics only until 2018, when the Patriarchate of Constantinople entered into communion with Ukrainian break-away groups.

It is believed that the Bulgarian schism was healed in 1998. That year, from September 30 to October 1, the Pan-Orthodox Council was held in Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, in which representatives of almost all the Local Orthodox Churches, except the Georgian and American, which, however, some Local Churches do not recognize as autocephalous. Seven Local Churches were represented by their Primates. Patriarch Bartholomew of Constantinople and Patriarch Alexy II of Moscow were also present at that Council.

There are two more significant differences in the Bulgarian and Ukrainian schisms.

Firstly, the Patriarchate of Constantinople was consistently on the side of the canonical BOC led by Patriarch Maxim and did not change its position, as in the case of the Ukrainian split.

Secondly, Patriarch Bartholomew did not at all reject the possibility of a conciliar solution to the Bulgarian issue by all Local Churches. He did not try to solve this problem single-handedly, as in Ukraine, although the Bulgarian Church was much longer part of the Patriarchate of Constantinople than the Kiev Metropolitanate, therefore Patriarch Bartholomew had more grounds to say he could resolve the Bulgarian church conflict single-handedly.

The Pan-Orthodox Council supported Patriarch Maxim of Bulgaria and his Holy Synod, condemned the actions of the schismatics and called them to repentance. Indeed, most of the “hierarchs” and “clergy” who’d backslid in the schism brought repentance right at the Council and were reunited with the Church.

But there were those who remained in the split. They chose a new leader, "metropolitan" Innokenty (Petrov) of Sofia, and continued their schismatic activity. The Bulgarian schism finally ceased to exist in 2012, when Innokenty (Petrov) sent a repentant letter to the BOC Synod and was reunited with the Church.

Thus, the Bulgarian and Ukrainian schisms have both common features and significant differences.

Common features:

  • Both splits emerged for political reasons.
  • Both splits were supported by the state.
  • In both cases, schismatics quickly began to “ordain” “alternative hierarchs”.
  • In both cases, most hierarchs, clergy, and believers remained faithful to the canonical Church.

Differences:

  • In Bulgaria, a split was directed against the Patriarch, who was accused of relations with the communist regime. In Ukraine, the split was led by the person who embodied cooperation with the communist regime.
  • In Bulgaria, the split was initially supported by a significantly larger number of canonical bishops than in Ukraine.
  • In Bulgaria, the problem of schism was resolved collectively by all the Local Churches, while in Ukraine the Patriarchate of Constantinople tried unsuccessfully to resolve it alone.
  • In Bulgaria, all Local Churches were on the side of the canonical BOC and did not change their position. In Ukraine, after many years of consistent support of the canonical UOC, the Patriarchate of Constantinople sided with the schismatics, followed by the Alexandrian and the Greek Churches.

Despite the very significant common features, it must be recognized: the cardinal difference between the Ukrainian and Bulgarian schisms is that in Ukraine, the monolithic unity in the position of the Local Orthodox Churches, which was the case in Bulgaria, was violated. Therefore, it is quite difficult to learn any lessons from the experience of healing the Bulgarian schism and apply them to Ukraine. But there are some ideas to draw on from the Bulgarian experience.

Firstly, it can be stated that the decisions adopted in 1998 at the Pan-Orthodox Council in Sofia constitute part of the corpus of canonical law of the Church. And these decisions indicate that the schism can be healed only by repentance and nothing else. In addition, there is also a signature of Patriarch Bartholomew under these decisions.

Secondly, a Pan-Orthodox Council can be initiated to heal the schism exactly where it exists, i.e. in Kiev.

Of course, in the context of the opposition of the Patriarchate of Constantinople to any attempts of seeking a collective solution to the “Ukrainian issue”, it would be hard to organize such a Council.

Still, if a Pan-Orthodox Synaxis of the Primates of the Local Churches in Jordan does take place at the invitation of Patriarch Theophilos III of Jerusalem, it can become a testing-site for the similar full-fledged Pan-Orthodox Council in Kiev.

Indeed, at a meeting in Jordan, it is proposed to only discuss the problem of pan-Orthodox unity, which was violated by Patriarch Bartholomew. But it would be appropriate to resolve the "Ukrainian issue" precisely in Kiev – at least such an idea could be voiced in Jordan.

Finally and most importantly – what can be learned from the Bulgarian case? The split there would not have been healed even by the Pan-Orthodox Council if the episcopate, clergy and believers had not rallied around their canonical Patriarch Maxim. In Ukraine, this unity of all members of the Church around His Beatitude Metropolitan Onuphry exists and is even more potent than in Bulgaria. Therefore, there is hope that the Ukrainian schism will someday become a turned over page in history.

 

* Blog Admin. mote: Interestingly enough, Christopher (Sybev) – now the soi-disant “Metropolitan of Serdica” – entered into fraternal communion in 2014 with the independent GOC hierarch Metropolitan Christophoros (Angelopoulos) of Mesogaia and the Islands, a former member of the “Lamian Synod.”

After his recognition by the Greek Bishop Christophoros, Sybev himself established an independent Bulgarian community under the name “Orthodox Christian Church” (Православна християнска църква) in 2016.

Like the Old Calendar Orthodox Church of Bulgaria, he attempted to register his organization with the State, which was rejected in 2025 on the basis of the name being deemed insufficiently distinguishable from the Bulgarian Orthodox Church.

 

Source:

https://spzh.eu/en/zashhita-very/67816-dva-raskola-pochemu-u-bolgarii-poluchilosy-to-chto-ne-poluchajetsya-u-ukrainy

 

The Hermit and Hesychast St. John (Iacob) of Neamț, the New Chozebite

Archimandrite Ioanichie (Balan)     [Important Supplementary material: https://orthodoxmiscellany.blogspot.com/2024/10/st-john-rom...