The Catalog of Good Deeds

What can make a pretty and successful girl at the peak of her career and health leave everything behind and take the veil? This story is for all who are sad for some reason and who have forgotten how our Heavenly Father loves and cherishes his mischievous kids. She was hearing God’s voice and his calling since early childhood but then broke up with him after her mother’s death and locked the door of her heart to God for a decade… She was close to death but did not fear it… She almost married a guy but then abruptly ended her relationship with him… Novice Helena (Yudina) told a reporter of our website about her journey to St Elisabeth Convent.

A Child Talking with God

I have been talking with God since I was a child. I talked with him simply and sincerely. I didn’t know anything about him but I believed in him for some reason. We never talked about God in my family. My parents belonged to Soviet intelligentsia: my mum, Natallia Yudina, was a piano teacher. My father, Vladimir Yudin, was an army officer. I was born in Siberia, in Zheleznogorsk, Krasnoyarsk Territory. Zheleznogorsk is a restricted-access town. It is surrounded by a barbed-wire fence. Entry is allowed only via a checkpoint, where every inhabitant of the town has to present his or her individual permit. There is a huge nuclear plant right inside a mountain.

Vladimir Yudin and Natalia Yudina

My parents had been in the same class at school. After they finished school, they went to colleges (a music college and a military college, respectively), graduated from them, and got married. Our family had to travel a lot across our vast country. My mother humbly acquiesced to the numerous transfers. All children in our family were born in various parts of Russia. I was their fifth and last child.

We all received good education, including music education. I have always been attracted to music. When I was just a toddler, I tried to reach out to the piano and play. In spite of that, when I first came to the music school, the examiner passed her verdict, “Violin! Why would you waste your daughter’s ear on the silly piano? You’ve got real talent. Learn to play the violin!” Her words came as a shock for me. My mum was an excellent teacher and found a way to persuade me. “Lena, you will learn to play both the violin and the piano.” I loved my mum and trusted her. Indeed, they laid big hopes on me: I performed at concerts and won awards at music contests.

The most difficult part for me is motivation. When I find out how to motivate myself, I can do whatever it takes to achieve my goal. Unfortunately, that’s the hardest part. It was entirely thanks to my mother that I finished the music school and achieved a lot. I dreamed of singing, too, but they didn’t let me sing solo or in a choir because I had to spend a lot of time practising my violin. That’s how I was surrounded with music since my earliest days.

Loving Family Living in a Tent

We grew up in a loving family. My parents never quarrelled. Of course, now I guess they might have had some tensions and misunderstandings but we children never heard any rude word from them.

Parental love and support make a reliable foundation for one’s personality. I’m grateful to my parents!

My dad was a patriot and taught us to love our homeland. He had chosen his job out of love for Russia and especially Siberia. Our father succeeded in implanting his love for Russia into our hearts, too. I recall how my brother and I drove around in his car, listened to LUBE band at full volume, and sobbed because their lyrics really touched us. Unfortunately, my only and dear brother Vladimir died in May 2017. We were close and like-minded. Of course, all live unto God. Generally, God makes surviving the death of a loved person easier.

Living in a family with many children teaches you to appreciate simple things. You figure out how to share, find a compromise, and care for others. It really helps me here in the Convent when there are three absolutely dissimilar people living in the same cell, like three astronauts, each from a different planet.

Our father always kept saying that we have to stay together, help and support one another. Our parents would constantly remind us of the broom story: One twig is easy to break but if you try to break all twigs together at once, you won’t be able to break them. Naturally, we fought and screamed and quarrelled… I can’t call myself a good-natured girl, you know. But I do my best to improve. Our parents have taught us to value what we’ve got.

The law in our family was: If you want to eat, eat. If you don’t want, don’t eat. As simple as that.

At the weekends, when we stayed together, we would cook a meal for the entire family. For instance, we would make pelmeni and then eat them together. After lunch, we would climb the big parents’ bed and read books. I preferred having fun instead of reading. Yet, when everyone was busy reading, you had to do the same. That’s precisely what it’s like in the Convent. It is hard to stand during the entire service but everyone does, and it empowers you. Little by little, you grow accustomed to it.

Little Lena with her sisters

I have always loved nature. I recall how I dreamed of escaping into the forest, building a hut, and living in unity with the nature. Before I went to bed, I would fantasise about living in the forest, finding something to eat and something to spend my days on. I even drew up blueprints. Sometimes I would skip school because I wanted to go outdoors and chill out. Our Siberian forests are absolutely stunning and incredibly beautiful. I would lie on the ground watching… The nature is so lively, you know…

It was my own decision to come to church when I was five

I wouldn’t call my parents atheists but apparently the Soviet dictatorship had taught them to be cautious of looking in the direction of God. Although my family was totally non-religious, I had the unconquerable drive towards God since I was a child. I talked with him since my earliest childhood. Let me illustrate it with a story.

I was five. It was time for Easter. Of course, I didn’t know anything about Easter. Orthodox Christians in our town gathered in a small cabin made into a church. They would summon the flock by ringing a beater — actually, a hanging piece of a steel rail. I was walking to my grandmother’s house and doing what I liked to do, that is crushing the ice on frozen puddles. I was so excited to stand on thin and fragile ice and watch it crush and give way to water.

Lena, 4 years

Suddenly, I heard the beater ringing. I was so excited and eager to go to church! My heart started pounding. I can’t explain… I don’t know why but I had a clear understanding that one had to wear a cross in order to set foot in a church. Returning to the town from a dacha, we would always show our permits on the checkpoint. It was a very important and meaningful ritual for us children. That was possibly where I got that association from: a christcross is a permit to church. I didn’t have a christcross. So they won’t let me in, will they?

I stepped into a puddle. The ice cracked and I saw something shining inside the puddle. I bent to look at it, and it was an icon of the Mother of God with a cross on the reverse side. That’s my permit!

I happily ran to the church. The church was separated by two busy roads. I don’t know how I managed to move past all those cars. I ran into the church. There were many people consecrating the kulich Easter cakes. A woman turned to me and gave me an egg: “Christ is Risen!” “No thanks, I can’t —” I had been taught not to accept anything from strangers, you know. She said, “Take the egg, you have to.” I did. The woman asked me, “Whose kid are you?” I thought, “Well, time to show my permit.” I took out the icon, lifted it up as high as I could (like a permit) and blurted out: “Look! That’s what I’ve got!”

Later that day, I told my mum, “Mum, you know, you should baptise me.” My mother was amazed, “Lena, where do you get that from? What are you talking about?” Remember, we lived in the Soviet Union. I was upset. I was attempting to get a christcross somewhere. I even tried to get the cross from other children in my nursery school in exchange for something else, but they wouldn’t go for it (laughs).

I felt God’s presence and my connection to him since my earliest childhood. I can’t explain how this kind of childish and sincere faith was ignited in my heart. Naturally, it seems to me now that it happened thanks to the prayers of some deceased relative of mine.

I have a photo album titled Our Baby where my parents recorded all details of my life as a baby. First tooth, first steps, first words. The section titled Favourite Holidays is filled in with my mother’s handwriting: Birthday, New Year, the 8th of March, the sister’s birthday. I wrote “Christmas” and “Easter” next to it — my older sisters had taught me how to write. Where did that come from? We never celebrated Christmas and Easter.

By the way, I would always feel sad because I liked that holiday. One Easter, I took raw eggs (mum didn’t let us boil eggs during the poverty-stricken 1990s), dyed them with gouache, put them in a plastic bag, and went to church to have them consecrated.

My sisters laughed at me and called me a holier-than-thou. All the same, I was absolutely certain that I was doing the right thing.

Here is another story from my childhood. I came to my best friend Zhenya (we went to music school together). Although children who study music, just like children who do other “not-so-children-friendly” jobs, tend to compete with each other, Zhenya and I loved one another with a genuine Christian love and never envied one another.

Lena and Zhenya

Zhenya’s family celebrated Easter. Their house teeming with guests, Easter cakes, dyed eggs, exclamations “Christ is risen!” She felt really tense in the presence of so many people. On the contrary, I was looking cheerfully at what was happening, and kept saying, “Zhenya, look! It’s so much fun, isn’t it!” I was genuinely thrilled.

I wanted to share my Easter joy with my favourite music teacher, Valentina Iosifovna. I had several ballpoint pens, one of which was half-empty, in my pocket. I shouted right at the door, “Christ is risen!” and gave her the pens. I wanted to give something to her as a gift for Easter. She replied with a smile: “He is risen, indeed!” Then she added, “You know, I’m a Catholic. We don’t celebrate Easter today.” I thought to myself, “Their faith is so boring, I’ll never go there. They don’t even have Easter!”

I Was Offended by God and Spent a Decade Without Him

When I was twelve, my mum died. She was 47, too young to die. I felt hurt and blamed God. I was seriously offended. I demanded that He bring her back and take me instead. I lay down waiting for my death. But I didn’t die. I felt really furious: “If so, I don’t need you any longer.” That was how I broke my connection to God. I closed the door of my heart to him.

It was painful. You keep moving around and Good keeps acting in your life. He continues to help and guide you. The Mother of God keeps loving you, too. Bit by bit, you come to realise that God has been taking care of you wherever you went. In spite of that, you turn away from him obstinately.

I spent ten years without God. I was adamant in not letting him back into my heart although I wanted to go to church and participate in worship. I had to have this moment of rejection because I was left longing for God during all that time.

“Are You Alive? It’s a Miracle!”

I was baptised when I was 16 for fear of death. It happened in hospital. I was brought to a hospital bed by a serious illness: I had suppurated bones in my head. I couldn’t walk. I stayed in various hospitals, the last being the Russian Children’s Hospital in Moscow. My aunt, who was my dad’s sister, sent for a priest. I was in conflict with God at that time already so I reluctantly agreed to be baptised. Surely, I feel very sorry for my attitude now. Baptism is such a happy occasion! That was when I took communion for the first time.

My second communion was before a serious surgery. A boy named Kolya, who was the same age as me and had a horrible genetic disease (lupus erythematosus), was in the same hospital with his grandmother (his mother had died). He drove me in a wheelchair to a nocturnal Easter liturgy where we spent a couple of hours.

The Lord cherished and loved me so tenderly, in spite of everything! It’s unspeakable! My doctor’s colleagues were warning her against the surgery. They predicted a 1/100 chance of my surviving it. I had literally no chance to remain a healthy person.

A bone in my head which contained the internal carotid artery had been rotten, just 3 mm were left to go before you cut into that artery, and if you do, it’d cause immediate death. However, my doctor Valentina Ryszardovna wasn’t scared. She was a professor and a famous surgeon. She came into my ward and told me everything candidly, waiting for my decision. “1/100 chance is still a chance. Let’s try.”

The surgery took a while. Several medical crews took turns in performing that surgery. It was a success. I woke up in an intensive therapy room. I opened my eyes and saw several doctors towering over me. “Are you alive?” I nodded. Valentina Ryszardovna burst into the room, fell down on her knees and kissed my hands crying, “Lena, you see, we’ve made it! It’s a miracle!” It was during the Bright Easter Week.

O Lord Let Me Come Back!

Speaking in a layperson’s terms, everything was great: I managed to recover after the surgery, I received an excellent education and a decent job that paid well. I did it on my own. God had endowed me with many gifts, such as independence and sharp wit. I would always get out unharmed from any situation and not be overpowered by anything. I’d simply regain my focus and move on. I possessed some inner strength. However, I was far from God.

When I was 22, ten years after I broke with God, I came to a tipping point in my life. A dead-end. Loss of meaning. I was on the verge of a breakdown. My soul cried out in despair, “Lord, how long will You torture me? Please make me come back to You!”

I stopped eating. I spent my days lying in bed and watching Soyuz TV channel. One day, I got up and somehow went to a church. As far as I recall, someone had told me that I had to receive a blessing for driving my car. The Lord was guiding my steps and sent me certain people at certain points. I went to my parish church and asked the rector, “Please bless me to drive my car.” “Did the GAI (the agency that does the same in Russia that DMV does in the US and DVLA does in the UK — translator’s note) bless you? If yes, then I bless you, too.” I was hooked by his simple and easygoing attitude. I caught myself thinking that I had to come back to God at last.

I didn’t know how to return to God, though. It was exactly like the prodigal son: he ate pig food and knew that he had to go back but he was too afraid because he had fallen and he didn’t know what to do about it? Lord have mercy, it was incredibly difficult to overcome that nagging fear. How can I return? What will happen? What should I do?

The Lord can see one’s heart, and He will always answer one’s prayer. A woman from my job gave me a book by John Krestiankin, “Constructing Your Confession”. The book sat unread on my shelf until I… Until I decided to get married.

St Matrona of Moscow Rescues Me From Marriage

I decided to get married. Preparations for the ceremony were underway. Suddenly, I started having really weird feelings. I felt aversion when I thought about family life. I just couldn’t force myself into it! I had to go and choose my wedding gown, and I did it with tears in my eyes. All girls dream about marriage but I couldn’t help crying when looking at myself in a wedding gown.

It was incomprehensible and hard to explain. On the one hand, I wanted to have a family and kids but I felt that something inside me protested against it. I didn’t have anyone to seek advice from. My dad would tell me, “Decide for yourself, you are old enough now.” But I simply couldn’t make up my mind…

I came across a book with the biography of St Matrona of Moscow, an Akathist to her, some prayers and stories about her miraculous help. I didn’t go to church yet, and I didn’t know any of the saints. I don’t know why I read that book. I was so impressed that I prayed before sleep, “Matrona, I’m very lonely. Please help me and tell me what to do.” Saint Matrona answered to my prayer that very night.

I saw a dream where St Matrona hugged me. She hugged me, and I felt so calm, so peaceful, as if she were my mum. I saw my bridegroom standing at a distance and yelling at me. I was so upset… “Listen, stop talking, can’t you see who she is. You’ve got to be reverent…” All of a sudden, he disappeared. St Matrona pointed at something. It was a church with black star-spotted domes.

I got up thinking that I had to go to Moscow. I could only understand that the church I had seen in my dream was a monastery or a convent of some kind, and that she had ordered me to go there. Of course, my wedding didn’t happen. My brother, my friends, and I went on a holiday to Italy for a month. However, the Lord had already touched my heart. Something was breaking apart inside me. Everything seemed useless, alien, and empty. Even if you try to stop thinking about it and block the outcry of your soul, your soul keeps crying louder and louder. When we finally got back home, I immediately opened the book by John Krestiankin.

To be continued…

Recorded by Sister Maria Kotova

March 27, 2018

St. Elisabeth Convent

St. John of Kronstadt is one of Orthodoxy’s most popular, most illustrious saints. Many people, however, are unaware that he was a married priest. Among the numerous photographs taken of him, we know of only one–a group shot–which shows St. John with his wife, Elizabeth Constantinovna, and even here she is scarcely distinguishable from the others who surround him. The following account, written by her niece, shows that she herself elected to remain in the background, concealed from the world by her meek and humble spirit.

At the outset of their married life, St. John said to his bride, “Liza, there are enough happy families in the world without us. Let us together devote our lives to serving God.” To strengthen their dedication, St. John requested they forgo marital relations and live as brother and sister. Elizabeth agreed. Such an arrangement–a rare form of asceticism–could not have been easy, but for the next 53 years Elizabeth was a faithful help-mate. Her Christian charity and wholehearted, selfless devotion to her husband and her neighbor can serve as an exemplary model not only for wives of clergy presbyteras, matushkas, “popadijas” but for all Orthodox women today.

On May 22, 1909, at 9:30, after prolonged sufferings, the widow of Fr. John of Kronstadt, Elizabeth Constantinovna Sergiev quietly departed this life. According to her doctor, the cause of death was general infirmity with weakening of the heart. The Lord granted that she prepare long and fervently for her move into eternal life: in her latter years Matushka Elizabeth, following the counsels and instructions of her husband, that man of prayer, communed often either at the cathedral or at home when her legs were too weak to take her out of the house; in the last year she communed daily. On May 21, she communed as was her custom–for the last time, it turned out. At 6 o’clock in the evening her eyes closed and after 10 o’clock she gave no more signs of consciousness. Her last word was” I want,” spoken in response to an offer to drink some holy water. But she was no longer able to swallow. She died peacefully the next morning as the canon for the soul’s departure was being read. On St. Thomas Sunday she had received Unction at her request, and afterwards said several times. “How happy I am that I received unction and prepared myself.” She was buried on Sunday, May 24, in Kronstadt, on the left side of the cathedral yard.

The deceased was born May 4, 1829, in Gdov, where her father, Archpriest Konstantin Nesvitsky, served in the city cathedral and was rector of a parish in the Gdoyak district. Transferred to Kronstadt at the request of the sacristan of St. Andrew’s Cathedral, his weak health did not permit him to serve there long, and in 1855 he gave his post to the young priest, John Ilyitch Sergiev, who had married his daughter Elizabeth. As a new bride she had to care for an elderly father (who became a widower that same year), three grown brothers and two sisters. They all lived together, and Elizabeth–fulfilling the responsibilities of housekeeper and mother–shouldered a heavy yoke. Several years later her brothers were able to support themselves and moved out on their own, while Elizabeth arranged for her sisters to marry teachers at the Petersburg Seminary, who then became priests. She and Fr. John did everything to get the girls established. Lacking sufficient financial resources, Fr. John in both cases approached well-to-do parishioners, asking if they wouldn’t contribute toward doweries for his sisters-in-law. Many willingly did so, but others responded coolly to the young priest, an attitude which not infrequenty greets benevolence among us here.

After they were married, the sisters would go to Kronstadt on visits. On one such occasion, in 1870, there in Fr. John’s apartment, the younger sister gave birth to a daughter: that was I. I was eventually taken home, but it pleased the Lord God that my true home was the quiet, peaceful apartment of that ever-memorable Pastor, beneath his blessed roof.

In 1872 my father died, leaving my mother without any financial means. My uncle, seeing our helplessness, said to his wife, “We have no children of our own. let’s take her and bring her up as a daughter.” It was no sooner said than done. And so it happened that, by God’s will, I came into the care of these infinitely dear to me uncle and aunt, who tirelessly looked after my welfare as the most loving parents would care for a favorite child.

Just as Fr. John never had a life of his own, giving himself to the service of his neighbor, so also E.K. never lived for herself; the circle of her activity was circumscribed by service to her relatives and close ones: she rejoiced at their joys and grieved over their sorrows. I remember her at the age of 45. She had kind, noble features, and was very active, forever rustling about. She liked to fuss over people, warm and feed them. I can see her now, in the kitchen, a white apron tied around her waist, making a sweet pie. She enjoyed cooking, going to market, looking over everyone and making sure that everything was clean and the food tasty. How many times did Uncle, tasting his favorite apple pie, remark, “You are my master pie baker!”

Elizabeth Constantinovna was warmhearted, always ever;-tempered, affectionate. She liked having people visit her; then she would provide an abundant spread, and Uncle, seeing her hospitality and sincerity, would say about the bustling mistress of the house: “She’s a real matushka.”

With all her housekeeping tasks, Aunt did not overlook me. She spent all her free time with me, slept in the same room with me, taught me to read in Russian and in French; later, when I entered school, she prepared my breakfast, daily accompanied me to school, picked me up and quizzed me on my lessons. I remember that before Aunt began teaching me, Uncle served a molieben in St. Andrew’s cathedral, to Ss. Cosmas and Damian and Prophet Naum. Uncle himself took me to the entrance examinations, paid for my education out of his own meager salary, and followed my progress with unwaning interest, weekly looking over my notebook with my grades and signing it. Given such favorable conditions, it is hardly to be wondered that I became a top student. This brought great joy to my guardians, and Uncle hurried to inform many acquaintances of the good news: “Our niece and ward, Ruth, graduated with a gold medal.”

From my earliest memory, I recall that Aunt always treated her husband with reverent love and respect. When he came home tired from making calls on parishioners or serving she hurried to take off his boots and help him undress, insisting that he lie down to rest. Then, dead silence reigned in the apartment; Aunt jealously guarded the brief rest periods of her hard-working pastor.

Uncle had a rather weak constitution and frequently fell ill. At those times Aunt turned into a tireless nurse: she spent whole nights at the patient’s bedside. In 1879 Fr. John became dangerously ill with pneumonia. He lay for hours with closed eyes, in a state of semi-consciousness. When he came around, he would often say, “My head aches unbearably, as thought someone is hitting it with a hammer.” Once, Aunt was sitting near Uncle’s bed weeping. Opening his eyes, Batiushka looked at her and said, “Don’t cry, Liza. God willing, I shall recover, but if not, God and kind people will not abandon you.” Several days passed and one morning Aunt rushed into my room, trembling with excitement: “Uncle is better; the crises is over!” We looked at one another, hugged each other tightly and both burst out crying; they were tears of happiness…

When Batiushka undertook his frequent – and later, daily – trips to Petersburg, Aunt always waited up for him, even if this was very late, despite the fact that her health wasn’t the best; she constantly suffered from headaches and for several years was troubled by insomnia. In time her physical weakness forced her to cut back on her ministrations; for her, poor dear, this was a severe deprivation!

The following incident comes to mind: Some years ago, in winter, Uncle went outside after a bath wearing tight shoes. Aunt became very upset an, no longer able to walk fast herself, sent me to tell Batiushka that he risked catching cold, going out dressed so lightly after a bath. Coming in form the outside hallway, Uncle sent straight to Aunt in the sitting room and said, patting her shoulder, “Thank you, my dear, for your concern, but don’t worry, my feet are warm.”

Uncle deeply appreciated this attentiveness on her part, and reciprocated in the same manner. When he was too ill to go to Petersburg, and later even around Kronstadt, he never sat down to eat without going into the sitting room or into Aunt’s room, depending where she was, and calling her to the table. “When I eat alone,” he said, “I have no appetite.” Not an evening went by that Uncle didn’t go to Aunt to say good night and bless her before going to bed: “I wish you good night,” “Sleep peacefully,” “God be with you,” “God protect you” – he used to say to her before retiring to his study to sleep. Not long before Uncle died, Matushka came down with influenza, and at this time his care for her was especially evident. It was so moving to see how the dear sufferer, barely able to walk, would go in to bless her several times a day and in the evening before going to sleep, stroke her head and say, “Poor dear, poor dear, we are sufferers together.” He would stand for a long time beside her chair, shaking his head and looking compassionately at his sick wife; sometimes he would turn his gaze towards the icon corner and for a long time silently pray for her. Usually, when someone asked Uncle about his health or Aunt, he would answer, “We are both poorly,” or “We are both preparing for death.” Once, when he was told that Aunt was failing, he came to her and said, “Do not be despondent; the Lord is merciful; He will give you patience to endure this suffering and get well.” In November, dining together with Aunt and two guests, Uncle told them that his health was altogether bad. Aunt, wishing to encourage him, said, “You always feel better in the spring; when spring comes–you’ll recover.” “In spring, you say?” Uncle replied, “You’ll live to see the spring, but I–will not.” And he was right: he died in December, and she, in May. When, from the 6th of December, Batiushka no longer had powers to serve Divine Liturgy but communed daily at home, he would come into the room of his sick matushka, with the chalice and commune her, saying, “My Lord and my God!” “With fear of God and faith draw near,” “Receive the Body and Blood of Christ,” “Peace to you, my eldress, I congratulate you.” On the morning of the 17th he communed her for the last time. From the 18th he did not leave his study.

After Uncle’s repose, aunt’s health began to deteriorate even more rapidly. She became very weak; her legs and hands barely functioned, her heart gradually began to fail. She sorely missed her ever-memorable husband and couldn’t hear mention of his name without tears; she could not accept the thought that Uncle was no longer among the living and would tell people, “I keep thinking that Ivan Ilyitch has not died but has simply gone off on a trip somewhere, as he used to go to Moscow, and that he will return.” Not long before she died Matushka saw a sketch of Batiushka at the home of an acquaintance and burst into uncontrollable tears: “Ivan Ilyiteh, Ivan IIyitch,” and when they tried to console her with the thought that he was now blessedly happy, she replied, “It’s wonderful for him, but it’s so hard for me; after all, we were together for 53 years.”

Sensing her imminent death, Matushka, sitting in her chair, frequently lifted her gaze to the , icons and said, “I must get ready, I must ask God – to forgive all my sins.” She often remembered and was consoled by the words of her ever-memorable Batiushka, our mutual intercessor before the Lord God, which he spoke on December 17, when he was told that his sick matushka was sorely grieved that she could not come into his study and take care of him: “Tell my wife that she is always with me and I am always with her.” These words greatly encouraged Aunt in her prolonged sufferings, consoling her with the hope that even after his death Batiushka would not leave her and soon take her to be with him, that he would greet her in the heavenly mansion and through his intercession would lead her to the Throne of the Most High. At night, Aunt would usually put on Uncle’s under-cassock or she would cover herself with it. Every time I went to the St. John of Rila convent she would say to me, “Make a prostration for me before Uncle’s tomb,” and she would weep unconsolably. If her hands or legs began to ache badly, she would immediately ask to have the afflicted places anointed with oil from the vigil lamp burning over Batiushka’s tomb.

Deeply religious, Matushka placed all her hope in God’s mercy and devoted herself wholeheartedly towards the salvation of her soul. “Ivan Ilyitch, bless me, pray for me,” she would repeat several times a day, sorrowful that she had outlived her great husband-pastor. After his repose, she would pray sincerely with tears, but in her great humility Aunt feared that her prayers would not soon be answered, and always asked others to pray for her. When I would go home for the night, after saying goodbye she would invariably say, “Pray for me.” If I went to Vigil or Liturgy, I always heard this same request, coming from the depths of her heart: “Pray for me,” and I prayed for her, us best I knew how.

One day, before I arrived, Aunt took a bad turn and consoled herself with no other thought than the fact that “Today is Saturday; Ruth will go to the Vigil service and pray for me.” Such was her faith in the power of prayer that even through my weak prayer, she trusted to receive an alleviation of her sufferings.

In concluding this brief sketch, dedicated to the memory of this unforgettable matushka, I cannot neglect mentioning two of her most remarkable characteristics: a profound humility and meekness; in these two virtues all the greatness of her soul was expressed.. She was never angry at anyone, she never held a grudge against anyone. If someone offended her or was unpleasant, she bore this unmurmuringly and forgave the person from the bottom of her heart. In answer to the question, “Have you any ill will towards anyone?” Matushka invariably answered, “No, not towards anyone.” Being herself forgiving, she taught others to act likewise; she would say, “Don’t be angry; God Himself will show who is right, who is at fault, while we shoud forgive.”

Aunt never allowed herself to interfere in Batiushka’s affairs; she never tried to put herself forward or stand on a par with him; remaining always in the shadows, she shone with the reflection of his glory, his wondrous Christian deeds; like a tender sister and loving mother, she guarded the common treasure: sick, weak, virtually without the use of her legs, she pleaded with everyone: “Be quiet, Batiushka is sleeping,” “Don’t receive anyone for now, Batiushka is not well.” Batiushka himself knew her soul, highly esteemed her purity, meekness and humility, and said about her: “My wife is an angel.” Did many know that behind the great saint, Fr John, stood a protectress, ready to lay down her life for him? If people did not know it then, may they know it now and may they sincerely pray for this pure eldress, this meek eldress, the servant of God, Elizabeth!

May a boundless gratitude to you-wonderful, self-sacrificing mother-educator–and memory eternal—dear virgin-wife, lamp of the Russian land–live in our hearts, and in those of our children and grandchildren!

From the reminiscences of R. G. Shemyakina, reprinted in Otets Ioana Kronshtadtsky by P.M. Chizhov, Jordanville, 1958

Source: http://www.roca.org/OA/96/96g.htm

"And while they looked steadfastly toward heaven as He went up, behold, two men stood by them in white apparel, which also said: Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven?"

- Acts 1:10, 11

The "two men in white apparel," who immediately after the ascension of the Lord appeared to the Apostles and asked them why they stood gazing up into heaven, were without doubt themselves inhabitants of heaven; therefore it is not to be supposed that this was displeasing to them, or that they desired to direct the gaze of those men of Galilee elsewhere. No. They desired only to put an end to the inert amazement of the Apostles when saying: Why stand ye gazing up into heaven? Having aroused them from their amazement, they draw them into meditation, and teach them and us with what thoughts we should gaze into heaven, following our Lord Jesus who hath ascended thither. This same Jesus, they added, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall come in like manner as you have seen Him go into heaven.

Fr. Sebastian Dabovich

The disciples of the Savior then beheld the exact fulfillment of His words which Mary Magdalene had recounted to them: I ascend unto my Father and your Father, and to my God and your God. They could not but conclude that those joyful visitations which He had bestowed upon them during the forty days after His resurrection from the dead, those instructive conversations with Him, that palpable communion between them and His divine humanity, were at that moment ended. When neither hand nor voice could any longer reach Him, they followed Him with their eyes, eager to detain Him; they looked steadfastly toward heaven as He went up. We can conceive what an immeasurable bereavement the Apostles must have felt after the ascension into heaven of Jesus, who was all and everything in the world to them; and it is this very bereavement for which the heavenly powers hasten to console them when telling them that this same Jesus . . . shall come.

In considering the circumstances of the ascension of Christ into heaven, we may first note the blessing which He then gave to the Apostles, and it come to pass, says the Evangelist Luke, while He blessed them He was parted from them and carried up into heaven. What an endless current of the grace of Christ is thus revealed unto us, Christians! The Lord begins a blessing, and before its completion ascends into heaven; for while He blessed them He was carried up into heaven. Thus even after His ascension does He still continue invisibly to impart His blessing. It flows and descends continuously upon the Apostles; through them it is diffused upon those whom they bless in the name of Jesus Christ; those who have received the blessing of Christ through the Apostles spread it among others; and thus do all who belong to the Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church become partakers of the one blessing of Christ. As the dew of Hermon that descended upon the mountain of Zion, so does this blessing of peace descend upon every soul that riseth above passions and lusts, above vanity and the cares of the world; as an indelible seal does it stamp those who are of Christ in such a manner that at the end of the world He will by this very sign call them forth from the midst of all mankind, saying, Come ye blessed!

And now, my brethren, let us consider how needful it is for us to endeavor to gain now and to preserve this blessing of the Ascended Lord, which descends upon us also through the Apostolic Church. If we have received and preserved it, we shall, at the future advent of Jesus Christ, be called together with the Apostles and the saints to participate in His kingdom: Come ye blessed! But if, when He shall call the blessed of His Father, this blessing either be not found in us, or we be found in possession only of the false blessing of men who themselves have not inherited the blessing of the Heavenly Father by grace and in the sacraments, then what will become of us? Yea, I say, let us consider this vital point before the opportunity be taken away.

The day of the Lord cometh as a thief in the night. From this same unexpectedness of His second coming our Lord Himself draws for us Christians a saving warning: Watch, therefore, for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come. Do not be led away by curiosity or credulity, and beware of such ones who pretend to know more than Christ hath granted them to know. Let us endeavor rather to know what failings we have, to number our transgressions, and to seek a limit to them in repentance. Let us take heed lest the children of this world and our own passions lull our spirits into sleep, till the approach of that longed for, yet dreadful hour: When the Lord come.

The blessing of the Lord come upon you by His grace and love towards man, always, now, and ever and unto the ages of the ages.

Source: http://www.orthodoxcanada.com/journal/2008-02-05.html

Question: I want to give my life completely to Christ, but do not want to go to a monastery. Is it really necessary to be in a monastery to lead a monastic life? Can’t I live as a monastic in the world?

This is a question that comes up quite often, except that it is usually in the form of a statement. May God bless your humility in asking this instead of informing and declaring that a monastery is not necessary for one who desires a monastic life!

First, you must realize that God’s grace is present everywhere, but it is especially felt in a monastery. When people visit a monastery, they feel that it is a holy place where God is present. Paradoxically, the monastics who dwell in that monastery more often feel the intense spiritual warfare that the evil one is waging against them. When visitors came to one monastery and said to one of the nuns, “It is so peaceful here,” she replied, “You feel the peace, we see the warfare.”

Anyone who strives to fulfill the Gospel commandments, who tries to live truly according to the teachings of the Church, feels both of these aspects to some degree: both the grace of God in their lives, but also the intense battle that the devil and his legions wage against him. The more intensely we strive to serve God, the more the evil one seeks to deter us from our path. This is most true in the life of one who renounces the world and seeks to live completely for Christ.

So, can this be done while living in the world? Yes. And no. One can certainly, with God’s help, live according to the Gospel commandments and the teachings of the Church in the world, maintaining a job, being faithful in the Church, living according to the “little holy trinity” of prayer, fasting and almsgiving, reading the lives of the saints and other soul edifying books, etc. This is all what the Church requires of all her faithful. This is all according to the commandments. Such a person may participate in some “worldly” activities which are not harmful—certain and limited sports, wholesome entertainment, etc., without losing his focus on God.

The monastic life takes in what the fathers refer to as the “Evangelical advice.” Remember the rich young man in the Gospel who asked the Lord, What must I do to inherit eternal life? The Lord told him to keep the commandments, which the man stated that he had done since his youth. Then the Lord said, if you want, sell all you have, take up your cross, and come, follow me (Mark 10:21).

If you want!!! In other words, it is not mandatory for salvation to give up everything, only “if you want” These were the words which St. Anthony heard and which led him to begin his monastic life. We know that his early monastic life was spent at first with an elder on the edge of the town, and that later he went off into the desert.

The world holds many temptations for us. Some of the pleasures of worldly life are not bad: marrying and having children are certainly blessed by Christ who worked His first public miracle at the wedding of Cana in Galilee. Being with other people—even those who are not of our faith—is not bad in itself, but it can lead one down a wrong path if one is not careful. Certain entertainments, as we mentioned above, are not bad in themselves, as long as they do not become passions. But the monastic is the one who chooses the narrower path. In order to follow this path, he must have others who are experienced in the dangers, pitfalls and perils along the way. You can find this only in a monastery with others who are struggling (while falling and getting back up again) on that same path.

If you are trying to walk that narrow path in the world with all its temptations and you fall (and you will fall), who will help to lift you up again? More than likely, those who are falling in the same pits as you will encourage you to remain and wallow in the mire. In the monastery, not only do you have the more experienced who can guide and reprimand you when you stray, but that great grace from God also surrounds you and assists you in these struggles. The very monastic garment itself is holy and guards the monastic.

Let’s take an innocent example to illustrate how important the habit is: Let’s say you are driving through a rather desolate area and are very thirsty. You come upon a small settlement that has a few houses and a bar, but no gas station or grocery store or other place where you could find a cup of coffee or soft drink or tea. (There are many such towns in the west!) You stop your car and go in the bar to get a non-alcoholic drink. There is nothing wrong with that in itself. Yet when you are saying your prayers, you remember the things you saw in the bar, perhaps lewd jokes, inappropriately dressed people, etc. Even though you did nothing wrong, still, your prayer is disturbed by these remembrances.

The monk or nun who would be traveling along that same road and who is equally thirsty would not go into such an establishment. The habit itself would be as the walls of the monastery protecting him from doing so, for as innocent as his intention would be in wanting a glass of ice tea, he could not bring scandal upon the Church by going into such a place.

There is another pitfall which catches everyone who tries to live the monastic life in the world. Pride. This is not to say that pride does not assail those in the monastery! It certainly does, however in the monastic setting, when one begins to fall into pride, there are elders who are quick to cut off that sin in the novice. You are not somebody in the monastery because you are fasting and praying—everyone is doing that! You are not considered as “pious” because you struggle to obtain the virtues—that is what is expected. But when you say, “I can lead the monastic life in the world and not bother going into the monastery” you are declaring already quite pridefully that you already know it all! Then, instead of all your efforts going toward your salvation, you will have lost everything.

There is no question that there are monastics who live as anchorites. That life cannot be compared to what you are requesting. Those who live such a monastic life do so only after many years in a monastery and only with the blessing of their monastic elder. When a brother would ask Elder Cleopa for a blessing to go off into the forest alone to live, the Elder would tell him, “after you have been in obedience for thirty years, then come back to me and we will think about it!”

Do not dismiss that grace which works invisibly in the monastery. It is very powerful and without it no one in a monastery would be saved. The holy fathers say that when you are saved you are saved in community; but when you fall, you fall alone.

If you want to be saved in the world, follow the commandments; if you want to as a monastic, go to a monastery and submit to the superior of that monastery and to its rules.

Source: http://orthodoxinfo.com/praxis/livemonasticworld.aspx

In March, the audio studio of St. Elisabeth Convent pleased the audience with a new album, which has a high-sounding name “Our Faith”. The album includes the church chants performed by the ensemble of the sisters of St. Elisabeth Convent. Nun Juliania (Denisova), the chorister of the ensemble, tells about this new CD album, which the listeners have loved already.

– Mother Juliania, was there a certain reason for making this album? Or is it just a continuation of the “Pilgrim’s Chants” series?

– When our sisters performed successfully in the Kuban, where the exhibitions and concerts of St. Elisabeth Convent took place, people began to come to us and to ask for CDs with the chants the sisters had performed. But we did not have any back then. So, we decided to make a CD with the current repertoire of the ensemble.

– Why “ensemble”, not “choir”? Is it an incomplete or reduced form of the monastic choir?

– Yes. In 2010, the sisters performed in Europe for the first time. Now there are four sisters of mercy and four-five monastics. The latter have seldom an opportunity to participate in such long trips. They all are in change for the large departments in the convent and they just cannot leave their obedience. The record was made in several steps and the ensemble team was changed over a bit several times. However, the main thing is that the style of a complete monastic choir singing was preserved.

The CD album consists of two parts – the Divine service chants (the chants that are sung at services in the convent) and the choral singing that we hear during akathists, when people are anointed with chrism. We also sing the songs from the repertoire of the Festive and sisters’ choirs of the convent, which I arranged so that they are better suited for the ensemble’s concerts.

– How did you manage to unite such a diverse collection of songs?

– I have noticed that on kliros we - both with the sisters' and the Festive choir - can sing various chants during a single service that can be absolutely different by their character: it can be either something colloquial, some more difficult melodies or even a harmonization of a Byzantine chant. Everything is united with the choir’s sound. You cannot confuse the sister’s or the Festive choir with something else. It becomes clear since the first notes, that it is the choir of St. Elisabeth Convent. Various people have mentioned this fact many times. We do not demand academic voice training as it is used to be in professional choirs, although it is assumed that this practice is necessary for a choir to sound as one.

– It seems you have managed to achieve your own special choir tone…

– Yes, we have a special tone color. This is our know-how, the main feature of this album. At the same time, the diversity of compositions increases the interest of the audience: when a women's choir is singing, the tempo, sense and arrangement must not be the same all the time.

So, in our new album there is diversity, and there are certain unifying factors.

In any art and in any team there is a necessity in such a factor. It is important to find a balance, so that there will be no eclecticism in it…

– Was there anything special while working on this album? Did it stand out of your other works somehow?

Of course, it did! For me it was a possibility to listen to the pure accords and professional singing. We always want to reach high quality, to make everithing perfect. And all the members of the ensemble want this, too. They are gathered into this choir not without reason – they all have a perfect hearing, their voices fit to each other and just go with each other. The singers understand each other well.

– Mother, were there any difficulties or not? This is still not the first album of this kind.

While recording any CD album, there is the fear that we will lose the spirit… This is why we record our albums in the church so that it reminds us for what we do this at all. We record many takes. Sometimes something does not work out – we take this fragment and work. Today, due to the help of modern technical equipment, there is a possibility to resort to footage, settling and mastering. It is not as it has been earlier: you started recording, you taped singing - and then the record went on the air. You had to sing perfectly from beginning to end. There was no possibility to edit something. This is how the first disks of the Festive choir were recorded.

– Why does the album has such a name – “Our Faith”?

This is the name of one of the songs. It is rather defining, it points to a particular confession or national identity. Only from the text of the song, we will learn then that our faith is the Orthodox one. It kind of a song form of the Creed. While the rest of the songs open various sides of this faith through the prism of national understanding and vision.

Our Faith. The Monastic Choir of St Elisabeth Convent (downloadable version)

May 2, 2018

St. Elisabeth Convent

Over the past 18 years I have asked every family I’ve seen in therapy how often they eat together. One father replied, “We’re all very busy, but we try our hardest to eat together at least once a week, on Sunday.” More probing questions about the family’s weekly schedule revealed that there were other times during the week that everyone was home at the same time. For a moment, I sat there puzzled. “What’s happening those other times?” I asked. “Well . . . I grab my food and go to my room, my brother goes into the basement to eat and play video games, and mom and dad sometimes sit at the table by themselves,” one of the teenagers replied.

After all these years of listening to families describe their “crazy” schedules, I see a growing trend that appears to be pushing Orthodox Christian families further away from each other and from God—a trend that is hurting our relationships with our family members and our relationship with God.

God’s Commandments

“You shall have no other gods before me. ”

“You shall not make for yourself an idol . . . you shall not bow down to them nor serve them.”

God’s first and second commandments challenge us to look more deeply at distinguishing how we fail in our attempt to love God and how we might fall into the trap of idol worship. In Our Thoughts Determine Our Lives: Life and Teachings of Elder Thaddeus, the elder says:

When we see an object that attracts us, we easily become attached to it . . . If this lasts for a length of time, then this object becomes our idol [ . . . ] which takes the place in our heart that belongs to God.

Though we might replace God with idols, God does not change His love for us nor His desire for us to come closer to Him. Remember how the lawyer answered Christ’s question on the means of acquiring salvation? “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind’ and ‘your neighbor as yourself.’” Christ’s response was simple and clear, “You have answered rightly; do this and you will live” (Luke 10:27-28).

“Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.”

As Christians, our day of rest and devotion to God is Sunday. However, over the last decade, more and more activities have been scheduled on this important day, even in the mornings. This makes it very difficult for parents to say “no” to their child and teach them the importance of attending church. (An even more sad and difficult situation is when a parent has to work on Sundays.) I remember when the only things open on Sunday were church and a few restaurants. You couldn’t even get gasoline for your car! Boy, how times have changed—but who changed and why? Have we forgotten the importance of worshiping God as a family?

One of my favorite examples of the significance of family worship comes from the Book of Acts:

“Cornelius, . . . a devout man who feared God with all his household, gave alms liberally to the people, and prayed constantly to God. …he saw clearly in a vision an angel of God coming in and saying to him, ‘Cornelius . . . Your prayers and your alms have ascended as a memorial before God’”

Here, the angel of God is confirming Cornelius and his family’s commitment to God by being obedient, prayerful and charitable. But how can we commit our lives to God if we are too busy? How can we become devout like Cornelius when there is not a free moment in our daily lives?

In an intriguing story called “Satan’s Convention,” an unknown author tells how Satan directs his dark angels to lure Christians away from God. Satan says, “Distract them from gaining hold of their Savior and maintaining that vital connection throughout their day!” “How shall we do this?” shouted his angels. “Keep them busy in the nonessentials of life and invent innumerable schemes to occupy their minds,” he answered. We must be vigilant and recognize that the devil is relentless in his pursuit to pull us away from God.

Righting the Wrong

For many cultures, including the Greek culture, well-rounded education and life experiences (activities) seem reasonable for future success—until they (rather their schedules) begin to choke the life (time) out of families and their worship of God. Providing our children with all the material comforts surely helps them enjoy this life more. But in order to provide our children with all of those comforts, we work even harder and spend more time away from our loved ones and God. We convince ourselves, or should I say, deceive ourselves, into believing that our efforts have good intentions.

Let's stop for a moment and ask, why? Why do we let getting into college become more important than getting into heaven? Why do we let making money take priority over making time for God? We’re feeding their minds and bodies, but are we feeding their souls?

Over the years many parents have told me they were surprised their children did not resist attending family therapy. I have found that children welcome the time the whole family spends together in the office without any interruptions. Children and parents begin to value true “family time,” even in small amounts, and to resist the distractions that surround them. When families seek therapy, their “good intentions” are to remedy the conflict they are experiencing in their homes. Their struggle is to right the “wrong”—the busy lifestyle that is pulling them apart.

If we put God first, for ourselves and for our family, we too can receive the blessings from above. However, this does require change and faith. My challenge to all families is to consider a few adjustments at home:

– Spend quality family time with cell phones, televisions, and games turned off.

– Carve out time for family devotions, spiritual reading and preparing for church.

– Break bread together. As much as possible, make it a point to gather around the family table and share a meal and, by doing that, you will surely come a little closer to each other and to God.

To that end, St. John Chrysostom is very clear about what the bottom line is and how to make sure that our good intentions do not go bad:

We are so concerned with our children’s schooling [and worldly success]; if only we were equally zealous in bringing them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord… This, then, is our task: to educate both ourselves and our children in godliness; otherwise what answer will we have before Christ’s judgment-seat?

By Ary Christofidis, Ph.D.

Source: https://www.goarch.org/-/good-intentions-gone-bad-our-overextended-families

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The Incredible Life of St. Elisabeth Convent's Residents: Novice Helena (Yudina). Part One

The Wife of St. John of Kronstadt: Elizabeth Constantinovna Sergiev

A Sermon by Fr. Sebastian Dabovich on the Feast of the Ascension

Is it Possible to Live a Monastic Life in the World?

Nun Juliania Discusses the Release of the New "Our Faith" Album

Educating Both Ourselves and Our Children in Godliness

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