If I had thought that the first week was slightly chaotic, I was optimistic. Things were no less chaotic – if anything, more so. But on reflection this is because Konstantin, the director of the training for the African Exarchate (who I discover was only appointed in September), is reliant on the goodwill of third parties, and frequently on the whims of their programs. Thus, for instance, one lecturer’s daughter got sick, which meant that he had to provide the lectures on short notice, and arrange for other lecturers.
But this is just part of the experience of pilgrimages, in my experience. You get to mix with people you would not otherwise, are lead by a leader you don’t know, who has to deal with changing circumstances (and tardy pilgrims…), you have to adapt to strange circumstances, you are shocked by intense experiences when you least expect them, and so on.
Highlights this week: We take a tour of St. Nicholas at Golutvin, where the Chinese congregation in Moscow gather. Here I see a beautiful modern iconostasis, which I find greatly attractive. Later in the week we meet the priest, Father Igor, who tells us his very interesting life story – including how impressed the North Korean leader, Kim Jong-Il, was with visiting his Church in the Russian far east, to the extent that he saw to it that the first Orthodox Church was built in North Korea! And at the end of it, in one of those remarks which one just knows is directed at you by God, he says, apropos of nothing, really, ‘You must be patient. Just be patient. A seed is thrown in the ground, and after many months it shows two leaves. So be patient.’
This would the first of a number of wonderful conversations this week. With Nikolai, one of the students, who promises – and later delivers – a wonderful book with plates of the fresco’s in the medieval church in the monastery. With Anatoli, who studied karate at university in Beijing and is busy with a doctorate on the quality of Chinese translations of the Bible and Liturgical texts. With Konstantin, who did his PhD in the conflict between Rome and Constantinople, which according to him, already started in the 4th century and had everything to do with the battle of ideas between east and west and politics, and agrees with me that this in turn has everything to do with the difference between viewing the world from the left or the right brain. Besides this, he has a lively interest in the Boer War and the history of the Afrikaners generally. I find the people’s English (with some exceptions, mainly people who originate, or spent time in, the USA) rudimentary, but their hospitality and eagerness to learn more than makes up for it.
We visit the Novospassky monastery (‘New Saviour’s monastery’, which is so called because the original Saviour’s monastery within the Kremlin walls was relocated here. This is where the metropolitan of Moscow has his seat. We visit the crypt where the Romanovs are buried. My eyes glaze over a bit, until we get to the icon of St. Elizabeth, whose husband Sergius was killed in a bomb explosion in Moscow. Not for nothing is she one of the most beloved saints of Russia and it is worth reading her life story. We are also shown a medieval Church in the monastery, with beautiful fresco’s and icons, and a restored Church with interesting, modern fresco’s. Afterwards we are taken to the highest ecclesial court in the Russian Orthodox Church and more particularly to the anteroom thereof, where a wonderful feast has been prepared for us, after which we are each given a present for Christmas, along with an undertaking from the Metropolitan’s assistant that we can serve the Liturgy in English at any of the Churches, after we have been ordained.
From the 28th of November my lungs have been giving signs that they were not at all mirthful with being confronted by sub-zero temperatures one minute and 25 degrees Celsius the next. On the 1st of December I finally succumbed and indicated to the organisers that I would be staying in bed. I was instantly taken to a doctor, a bustling, round woman, who asked me all sorts of intimate questions – which of course had to be translated by the two Russian organisers – diagnosed an enlarged liver and a heart condition or two, gave me an entire shopping bag full of mostly over-the-counter medications and home remedies, and ordered me to come see her again on Monday. Fortunately I have taken the precaution of bringing along cortisone, so I also started taking ‘real medicine’. I spent the rest of the day in bed, except for the evening, when I attended the tonsure of two young monks in the old Church in the monastery. I hesitate to speak of it, because it was such an intimate and mysterious event. But I will say that it starts with all the monks entering the Church through the door in the back of the Church, each holding the cloak of the monk in front of him, and the two novices, clad in white like people about to baptised, crawling on the floor between them, whilst the most heavenly songs are sung. And that it ends with the new monks standing on the ambo, clearly utterly exhausted but beaming, greeting each individual in the entire congregation who go up to them to congratulate them, with the words ‘I am the monk Vasilly (or Illiodor), please pray for me.’ And one of them gripping my hand as if by my prayers would hang his entire salvation. The event ends when the spiritual father of the monastery, a man so short he could be dwarf, with the waxy skin of an ascetic of long standing, passes us and blesses us. Wonderful.
Also Friday I spent in bed and only attend one lecture. My lungs are slowly getting better, but I know from previous experience that these recoveries are unsure and take time.
On Saturday and Sunday we attend two more Liturgies. Once again I join the choir on Saturday, and although my lungs are not wonderful, I really enjoy it. On Sunday there is an episcopal Liturgy, which is conducted with much more pomp and procedure than in the Greek Church. I get the opportunity to watch the larger part of it from the altar, and very interesting it is.
I once again conclude with a series of pictures.
