Священник Василий Тигров. Воспоминания о Саровских торжествах

So, the Lord also vouchsafed me, a sinner and unworthy, to see this great, ineffable, indescribable triumph of the discovery of the holy relics of St. Seraphim! I went to this celebration on July 13, Sunday. I was thinking for some time whether to go or not. They intimidated us too much. Finally, he overcame himself, got ready and went with one of his parishioners. We drove all the way to Sarov safely, only on the way they again intimidated us: “Now there is no place to fit in, they won’t let us get to Sarov itself, there are people there like a wall for five, ten miles.”... We admit, we were all timid as we approached the last station. I and some others got off at the Shatki station on the Nizhny Novgorod railway. This was already on the morning of Tuesday the 15th. First of all, we ask the coachmen when we went with them: “Well, are they allowed to go to Sarov, or what?” - “They’re letting them in, they’re letting them in, but what the hell.” And our hearts were relieved. From Shatkov we made a stop at the Ponetaevsky Monastery. Here we drank tea and went for a minute to the church, where the miraculous icon of the Sign of the Mother of God is. At that time there was a copy there, and the real icon was in the monastery, on the way to Sarov, where it should arrive on the 17th. The painting on the icon is wonderful. From the church I went into the painting building, where I was amazed by the artistic painting of the nuns - at that time they were all working on icons of St. Seraphim, and all of high dignity. In the first room of the painting classes, I was struck by the picture: St. Seraphim feeding a bear. The monk is carved from wood, and the bear is stuffed, the picture is alive to the point of deception. In addition to the icons of St. Seraphim, there were also icons of the Sign of the Mother of God - wonderful icons: you could look and look at them - the more you look, the more your soul is touched... We spent the night that day in a village, 15 versts from Sarov. So, close, close to the treasured place. So the heart is eager to see the dear monastery with all its shrines. The next day, July 16, Sarov itself finally opened before us, bathed in the light of the morning sun, in all its beauty. Everyone’s faces lit up with reverent joy, everyone hurried to make the sign of the cross. Holy thoughts and feelings arose in her soul, putting her in a tender mood. We drive closer and see a countless mass of people moving back and forth. Access to the monastery and entry into the monastery itself is free. What we heard along the way turned out to be pure fiction. So, I was already in the monastery, and I happily had to settle down, find a room for myself, even within the walls of the monastery fence. Glory to Thee, Lord, glory to Thee! Immediately upon arrival at the monastery, my attention was attracted by the screams of frantic women who were being led to the church of Saints Zosima and Savvatius, where at that time the coffin with the relics of St. Seraphim was located. The church was locked and the windows were covered; but at the doors and windows there was always a dense crowd of people, and mostly with sick people possessed by demons. The latter screamed furiously, fought, fell to the ground in terrible writhing, then finally fell silent, subsided and stood up completely healthy, glorifying and thanking God and the new prayer book and miracle worker Seraphim. At 12 o'clock in the afternoon, a rare bell was heard from the monastery bell tower, calling for a solemn requiem. In the Assumption Cathedral, the requiem was performed by Metropolitan Anthony, Archbishop Dimitri (Kazan), bishops: Innocent (Tambov) and Nazarius (Nizhny Novgorod), co-served by 11 archimandrites and 19 archpriests, priests and hieromonks. The cathedral was full of worshipers. The choirs sang: the Metropolitan's and the Tambov Bishop's. What wonderful singing there was! What a deeply touching impression it made! And in general, what a quiet, calming, joyful and peaceful mood came out of the whole service!.. At 6 o'clock in the evening of the same day, the funeral all-night vigil began with a great requiem - parastas. Served: in the Assumption Cathedral, His Eminence Anthony and His Eminence Innocent, in the Church of the Life-Giving Source - His Eminence Demetrius and His Eminence Nazarius. The solemn performance of the service, accompanied by the quiet, harmonious, touching singing of the metropolitan choir, so amazed me that I stood as if I didn’t belong, was in sweet admiration for everything vain, earthly. I didn’t want to direct my gaze anywhere else except contemplating the beauty of the divine service, and I didn’t want to open my ears to anything other than listening to this beautiful divine singing. (They sang especially well “Blessed is the man” of the Kiev chant, “Peace, our Savior”, “Blessed art thou, O Lord”). The next day, July 17, I served the early liturgy in the Assumption Cathedral, with the participation of four other priests. These were delightfully joyful moments for me. To stand in the place where the feet of the Venerable Seraphim once stood, to serve before that throne where he himself once served, to be transported in mind and heart to the time when he, a humble monk, but illuminated by heavenly revelation, performed a holy offering here, on the same throne, and at the same time pray for the repose of his soul with the saints in view of his imminent glorification - truly these were saints, touching, touching moments!.. Yes, these were the happiest moments of my life. I remember that I experienced, felt and experienced something similar when I celebrated the divine liturgy in the cave churches of the Kiev-Pechersk Lavra, when my spirit from under a deep dungeon freely rushed to the heavenly heights, when it, held by the cramped space, did not, however, know the limitations in its heavenly flight. I also remember something similar when I stood before the throne in the Kronstadt Cathedral in the service of the great and glorious Father John in the priesthood - when, also, surrendering entirely to the given moment, I realized with my whole being all the importance, all the splendor of the secret action taking place, when the mind and heart, not knowing spatial boundaries and not feeling the usual, earthly heaviness, easily ascended the mountain - to heaven. At 7 o'clock in the morning, in clear sunny weather, a religious procession set out from the Sarov monastery, accompanied by His Grace Innocent with numerous monastics and white clergy, to meet the religious processions coming from the Diveyevo and Ponetaevsk monasteries; Having crossed the Satis River, he stopped at the chapel, waiting for those he would meet. At about 8 o'clock a religious procession of the named monasteries appeared from behind the forest; it accompanied the icon of the Tenderness of the Mother of God, before which the Monk Seraphim prayed. Now the religious processions united into one common procession and formed a majestic procession. A numerous host of clergy, dressed in light, shiny clothes, a whole forest of banners, silver, gilded, dazzlingly shining in the sun, countless crowds of pilgrims accompanying the procession along the entire route - all this represented an unusually magnificent sight and made an unusually touching impression. After the icons were brought into the churches of the Sarov fence, the funeral liturgy began. The services in the Assumption Cathedral were particularly splendid. Here the liturgy was celebrated by His Eminence Metropolitan Anthony and His Eminence Nazarius; the metropolitan choir sang. They sang “Cherubic” by Turchaninov, “Mercy of the World” by Simonov, “It is Worthy to Eat” by Serbian chant. The motifs are familiar, but now only, performed by the metropolitan choir, for the first time I had to hear and understand all the beauty of their harmonious harmony, all the charm of their wonderful melody. It was some kind of airy, unearthly, heavenly, angelic singing. The sounds of voices are gentle, soft, the transitions or modulations are clear and light. Neither the strength of tension nor the difference in timbre in the performers' voices is noticeable. It was a wonderful singing, as if rushing from nowhere, resounding in the air and hovering above all those present. Those were true moments of blessed insight. And who among those present at that time did not feel these moments? When these memoirs were already written, I received a letter from a priest of the Don diocese, with whom I became closely acquainted on the way to Sarov. And he writes: “I had the first grace-filled sensations three or four days before the opening of the relics of the Venerable Father Seraphim, especially during the service of requiem masses. My heart was filled with joy and consolation and at the same time with tears of sweetness. When the singers sang, it seemed to me that heavenly spirits flew to the windows and, as if echoing the singing, fluttered their wings. I was ashamed that I was crying, I was afraid that they would not pay attention to me. My heart embraced everyone with love, and I felt how great Saint Seraphim is and how great he is with the Lord...” At the end of the liturgy, His Eminence Nazarius pronounced a word in which he said: “Just as during the life of the holy elder thousands of crowds headed to his desert to see him, to receive a blessing, consolation or healing, so after his death even larger crowds with the same needs began to flow to his grave, to the place of his desert exploits, to the source that he dug! In their minds, believers did not distinguish between the living and the dead Father Seraphim, just as the Lord does not distinguish between these states (Rom. 14:8). St. Seraphim himself did not change his attitude towards people after his death. And now, as before, he is a zealous prayer book for them before God, and now he is alive and close to everyone who honors and loves him... In this church, who does not feel his presence and prayerful communication with us? Who with spiritual eyes does not see his image illuminated by heavenly light? Who does not hear his word breathing with love?..” Yes, whoever was present in this church these days and gave himself up with all his soul to the wondrous celebration taking place here - he, indeed, felt the close presence of the Monk Seraphim and, entering into prayerful communication with him, saw his bright image before him with his spiritual eyes, heard in his heart the echo of his affectionate words, his usual affectionate address: “My joy!” At the end of the liturgy and requiem, the people on this day did not disperse into the distance, to distant barracks, to their stopping places, but tried to settle down and settle down either in the monastery fence or near it. The news was received that the Emperor would arrive. Therefore, here, to the monastery fence and to the Diveyevo road, all the people began to gather and gather from everywhere, forming a dense, dense wall. After noon, everyone began to impatiently await the time of the Emperor's arrival. At 4 o'clock the bell began ringing the big bell. They began to build rows in the fence on both sides of the wooden bridge leading from the gate of the fence to the Assumption Cathedral. On the right side, in the foreground, the nuns of the Diveyevo and Ponetaevsky monasteries were lined up in full line, in the background - the elders and banner bearers, on the left side - a long row of clergy. At 5 o'clock all the bells began ringing. Metropolitan Anthony with Archbishop Demetrius and Bishops Innocent and Nazarius came out from the Assumption Cathedral outside the monastery gates, presenting the cross and holy water. Although the bell ringing continued for more than two hours and everyone was in a state of tense anticipation during this time, the waiting was not tiring. The new environment, these preparations and orders for the meeting, a new feeling that excites the soul, a feeling of something special, extraordinary - all this was so interesting and, in terms of the subject of anticipation, so pleasant that two hours passed easily. Finally, a sudden stream of revival ran through the entire crowd - this clearly proved that the minutes of waiting were ending. In the distance behind the fence a long “hurray” was heard. Oh, how I would have liked at that time to suddenly be transported to that crowd behind the fence, spread out across the vast space along the road-path of the Sovereign! What a wonderful, magnificent sight there!.. For 60 miles from Arzamas to Sarov, on both sides of the road there is a wall of people. The face of the Sovereign and Empresses is visible and accessible to everyone. They rode in open carriages. Everyone standing along the road was delighted and incredibly pleased that God had vouchsafed them to see the Sovereign Father and the Mother Empresses. But what happened along the route of the Emperor from Arzamas to Sarov is incomparable with what happened at the entrance to Sarov itself. There, on both sides of the road, people stood in a wall, in rows, but not in such a crowded, dense mass - here the entire space, immense to the eye, was densely dotted with many tens of thousands of heads. There, his gaze, stretching into the distance, saw no end to the living rows; here, looking around, he did not see an empty, free space, not occupied by a living mass or crowd. Everyone's eyes are fixed on one point. Everyone's faces shine with pleasure and joy. Everyone makes a friendly, enthusiastic noise: “Hurray! Hooray! Hooray!" But everything fell silent. Their Imperial Majesties disembarked from the carriages, and the Emperor approached the Metropolitan, surrounded by archpastors. The Metropolitan greets the Sovereign with a short speech: “The Holy Monastery of Sarov joyfully welcomes You, most pious Sovereign, who has now arrived here to take part in prayer in the celebrations of the glorification of its great ascetic, the ever-memorable elder, Hieromonk Seraphim. And all the great multitude of Orthodox people gathered here rejoices to see their Tsar, praying with him and sharing his bright triumph. Come in peace, O Lord, to this monastery, and through the prayers of the glorified saint of God, may your entry be blessed by the Lord.” After this, the Emperor and Empress venerated the cross and were sprinkled with holy water. At that time, the excitement in the fence grew stronger and stronger. Everyone’s gaze with equal intensity is directed in the same direction - to where the solemn procession of the Tsar-Father is about to open. “Hello, Sovereign Father!” And finally I saw His bright, gentle face. He walks calmly, joyfully, accompanied by the Sovereign Queens and other Highest Persons, preceded by a brilliant spiritual procession. The procession heads to the Assumption Cathedral. A short prayer service was served there with the proclamation of many years. Then the procession of Royal Persons headed to the Church of the Solovetsky Wonderworkers, to venerate the Pleasant of God, whose relics now temporarily rested in this church. Along the entire route of the Sovereign, crowded in places, people stand, not taking their eyes off the Tsar-Father. Everyone tries to say their greeting. And here and there you can hear, although not so loudly, but quite clearly: “Hello, Sovereign,” “Hello, Sovereign Father!” What simple words, yet how touching they are! And you had to be an eyewitness to fully understand what delightful moments these were, the simplest and most sincere exchange of greetings and congratulations between the people and the Emperor. The people greet: “Hello, Sovereign Father!” The Sovereign responds by slightly tilting his head first in one direction or the other and, finally, also with the words: “Hello.” One could hear simple, cordial relations between the people and the Tsar, testifying to the heartfelt, sincere love of the people for their Tsar and the reciprocal love of the Tsar for his people. Everyone felt that the people in the person of the Tsar saw their Father - Father, Benefactor, and the Tsar in the person of the people saw their selflessly loving children. And one family of many thousands was formed, feeling with the same feelings, thinking with the same thoughts, a tightly knit family. Everyone has the same feelings towards the Father, and the Father has the same feelings towards everyone. Everyone is equally close to Him - this was evident from his affectionate gaze, equally addressed to everyone, and how happy was the one who had to meet this affectionate gaze; everyone is equally close to Him - and He was close to everyone... There is no longer any talk of the Tsar being out of reach. Yes, happy was the one who saw the Tsar here for the first time. And one could hear while one or the other expressed his joyful feeling: “This is what the Lord has vouchsafed, to see the Tsar-Father - where should I see Him?..” And at the same time, tears appeared in the eyes of the speaker. Having bowed to the Pleasant, the Tsar and Queens, preceded by the clergy, went to the chambers prepared for them in the cells of the monastery. All the time, the Royal Persons were the subject of the heartfelt attention of the people: pilgrims at a certain time crowded at the doors of the chambers to see again the Persons dear to their hearts, to bow to Them, to say their greetings from the heart. Everyone was touched by the purely kindred, close, heartfelt attitude of the Tsar and Queens to the memory of the saint of God. The majestic shrine, as a gift from the Tsar, the priestly vestments, personally embroidered by the Queen, the carpet for the shrine, also embroidered by Her, the Royal lamps for the shrine - all this testified to the reverent respect and cordial attitude of the entire Royal Family towards “Father Seraphim” and evoked deep tenderness in the believing hearts of the common people. The next day, the 18th, at early mass in the Assumption Cathedral, the Emperor and Empress communed with St. Tyne. The Emperor, as a true pilgrim and along with other pilgrims, fasts, confesses and partakes of the Holy Mysteries in order to worthily begin the bright celebration. What a touching picture! The royal gates open. The clergy come out with the Holy Chalice in their hands. The deacon exclaims: “Approach with the fear of God and faith,” and the Sovereign and Empresses, as true and pious children of the Orthodox Church, approach the Holy Chalice with sincere reverence. The priest says: “I believe, Lord, and I confess...”, and the Emperor and Empress humbly repeat this and other prayers word by word and boldly approach the Most Holy Sacrament. And so, now the Tsar and the warrior, the rich and the poor - all stand in equal dignity before the Lord Himself, who gives His Most Honest Body and His Most Honest Blood as food to the faithful. Last funeral liturgy. The Emperor is on his way to the source At 9 o'clock in the morning they signaled for the late liturgy - this was the last liturgy, during which commemoration was offered for the repose of St. Seraphim. At the end of the liturgy, a memorial service was celebrated, at the beginning of which the August Family also arrived at the church. Before the start of the memorial service, Metropolitan Anthony delivered a speech in which he said, among other things: “In this crowded, but unanimous and zealous gathering of pilgrims at the holy relics of the Venerable One, the original fundamental meaning of the life of the Russian people is expressed. He knows his fatherland and his history not so much by political or military events, but by the devotees of faith and truth, love and goodness. He knows Kyiv from St. Anthony and Theodosius, the Trinity Lavra and Moscow from St. Sergius and the saints of Moscow, his north and Solovki from St. Zosima and Savvatius, Siberia from Simeon of Verkhoturye and St. Innocent of Irkutsk... And now in the person of St. Seraphim the Lord has erected a new lamp, a new teacher, a new spiritual stronghold for the Russian people.” At this last memorial service, everyone was enveloped in a special, reverent silence, everyone was silently focused on the last funeral commemoration of the Sarov ascetic Seraphim. The memorial service ended with a lithium at his grave. On this day, word quickly spread around everyone that the Royal Family would go to the source. And then, at about 2 o’clock in the afternoon, a magnificent sight opened up on the road from the monastery to the source. Along the edge of the road there is a thick, dense wall of people; it scattered further over all the hills, many climbed into the trees. In a word, the entire left plateau and the right side of the river bank are densely strewn with living heads. From afar, from the walls of the monastery, a “hurray” was heard, which, rolling from mouth to mouth, comes closer and closer, is heard more clearly and louder, covering more and more space, and, starting from one, reaches the other end and pours like thunder from hill to hill, from bank to bank. With such manifestations of joy and delight, the people greet Their King, Their Sovereign Overlord. And He appears along the road, accompanied by the Grand Dukes and some of the retinue, heading on foot to St. source and to the places of the exploits of St. Seraphim. There is no guard, no escort, so simply and humbly the Sovereign Lord appears, like a simple pilgrim, like an ordinary pilgrim among others, also pilgrims, affectionately responding with signs of greeting to the enthusiastic greetings of the latter. And if each of those who saw this wonderful picture experienced the best feelings in his soul at that time, then may he be allowed to penetrate into the secret thoughts and feelings that then filled the soul of the Crowned Leader. Didn’t He also then, in this visible unity with the people and in a general prayerful mood, experience the best moments of His life?.. Didn’t He see in those gazes directed at Him from everywhere, glowing with joy, the true love, the ardent devotion of His subjects? And on the way to the holy healing spring, didn’t He feel in His soul a source of new strength that inspired and encouraged Him on the path of high Royal deeds? From the source, Their Majesties headed to the stone of Father Seraphim, on which he prayed for 1000 days, and from here to the distant desert. On the way back, the Emperor walked again - there was a touching moment when, returning to the monastery, the Emperor turned onto his former road and again entered the midst of the people. The people could not stand it and fell to their knees in tears of delight and inexpressible joy. At about 4 o'clock Their Majesties returned to the monastery. The moment of the brightest celebration was approaching, to which all the splendor of the previous deeply significant days was far inferior. At 6 o'clock in the evening the gospel for the all-night vigil began. This was the first church service at which St. Seraphim began to be glorified and blessed by the church in the ranks of the saints of God. The Metropolitan Vladyka proceeded with glory to the Assumption Cathedral. Soon the August Family arrived. The service began and continued as usual until the litany. But then they sang the lithium stichera: “Come, many monks, today let us piously praise the saint”; everyone present in the church and monastery lit candles; a solemn bell rang out in the bell tower, and a majestic and wondrously beautiful procession emerged from the cathedral: in front came psalm-readers with lanterns, hierodeacons with altar crosses and icons; Next came the Neva Singers; behind them in brilliant vestments with seraphim came priests, hieromonks, abbots, archpriests, the abbot of the monastery and archimandrites; The subdeacons with trikirii and dikirii were followed by the bishops - Innocent and Nazarius, Archbishop Demetrius and Metropolitan Anthony. Following the Metropolitan were: the Sovereign Emperor, the Sovereign Empresses, the Grand Dukes and Duchesses, accompanied by their retinue. This procession headed to the Zosimo-Savvatievskaya Church. Along the entire route, on both sides, banner bearers in beautiful ceremonial caftans with banners brought from different places of the Russian land were installed in the proper order, according to the instructions given in advance by the keymaster of the cathedral. The singers continue to sing: “Do not forget us, our joy, Father Seraphim...” The procession is approaching the end and enters the already open doors of the Zosimo-Savvatievskaya Church. The moments of happy anticipation have arrived. The people stand in reverent silence with wax candles of different colors lit in their hands: yellow, white, red and green. The air is unusually warm, clear, quiet - you can’t hear the movement of the wind... Everyone with bated breath and intense attention looks in the direction from where the procession should appear again, but this time with the holy relics. And so this majestic, deeply touching procession began. Solemnly carried out of the church, the coffin was placed on a stretcher and, raised high on it, was visible to all the people. It was carried by the Sovereign, the Grand Dukes, the Metropolitan, bishops and archimandrites. On the sides of the coffin, four deacons held ripids. The coffin was followed by the Empresses and Grand Duchesses. What the mood of the people was at that time is impossible to describe and convey. Finally, something happened for which all previous celebrations were only a preparation. Now everyone saw with their own eyes what they were in a hurry to see, rushing hundreds and thousands of miles away. The moment has come that tens of thousands of people gathered in one place to feel and experience, coming from all over holy Rus', united, despite the difference in dialects, tribes and nationalities, into one close family, into one indivisible whole. Everyone's faces lit up with new impressions. And was it possible to withstand the influx of these impressions? And why did you have to restrain yourself when your heart felt such space and freedom and an irresistible urge to express all its internal movements, all its worries? And therefore, I think I will not be mistaken if I say that at that moment everyone had tears in their eyes - they were tears of reverent delight, pious joy, tears of deep tenderness. Many women cried and sobbed loudly. Everyone turned with prayerful sighing to the new saint, Reverend Father Seraphim. Everywhere one could hear: “Reverend Father Seraphim, pray to God for us”, “You are our Father”, “Father Seraphim”, “Our Prayer Book”, “Our Wonderworker”, “pray for us”... These words, coming from the very heart and from the lips of ordinary people, were especially touching. Many women threw pieces of canvas, towels and other handicrafts along the path of the coffin procession. Religious delight reached its highest intensity and manifestation. The procession heads around the Assumption Cathedral, with stops on each side of it, during which lithium litanies are read and, finally, after reading the lithium prayer at the western gates, it enters the cathedral, where a coffin with holy relics is placed on a special elevation among the majestically illuminated church. The service continues. Between the kathismas, His Grace Innocent said a word that ended like this: “In this tomb is the source, light and joy of our faith. She would have been cold and dull if she had not received clear encouragement that prayer and deed would always be rewarded and glorified by the Lord. In these holy relics there is a new sign of God’s mercy and goodness towards the Russian people and the Orthodox Church, as if the sky opens up and a new prayer book stands at the throne of the Lord for us unworthy, a new intercessor and intercessor. And we clearly see the fruits of this prayer of his to the Lord. The blind see, the deaf hear, the dumb speak, the paralytic rise. Another moment - and the lid of this saving coffin will open, the blessed remains will appear to us - and the image of Seraphim, now wondrous among the saints of God, will appear before us even more clearly... but meek, humble and wretched in earthly life.” And the moment has come! They sang “Praise the name of the Lord.” The High Hierarch of the Russian Church, Metropolitan Anthony, three bishops, twelve archimandrites, two abbots and twenty-five archpriests and priests came out into the middle of the church. The Metropolitan, as established, presented lighted candles to the Sovereign Emperor, the Sovereign Empresses, the Grand Dukes and the clergy. All the pilgrims also lit candles. The singing stopped and a mysterious silence reigned. Everyone's gaze is directed to the coffin. Everyone is silently waiting for something extraordinary. Here the Metropolitan leaves the pulpit and approaches the tomb. The abbot takes the key out of the altar on a golden platter. The Metropolitan with all the clergy makes three prostrations, then accepts the key, unlocks the lock of the coffin and opens the coffin, two archimandrites remove the lid, the other two take it to the altar. The holy relics are now open. Everyone kneels; the clergy sing: “We bless you, Reverend Father Seraphim...” There was a moment that struck everyone to the depths of their souls. Everyone present in the church was in the same mood. Everyone’s hearts were directed towards St. Seraphim, who seemed to have now risen from the grave and was so close, close to everyone. The fragrance of the shrine was felt, the closeness of a new, hitherto unknown world was felt, it was felt that the glory of heaven filled the entire church and that everyone had now approached the heavenly Jerusalem and the multitudes of angels, to the triumphant council and church of the firstborn written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous who had reached perfection (Heb. 12:22). And I so wanted to pray, I so wanted to ascend with my mind and heart to a new, opened region, where the celebrants’ unceasing voice, the stench of spiritual fragrance, the food of God’s incorruptible glory, the sweat of inscrutable sweetness! And so it was inexpressibly joyful under the arches of this church, which was now more spacious than heaven itself, for within its walls it contained all of heaven with all its glory, for it contained within itself the entire Church - earthly and heavenly. And where the highest hierarchy of the church, the highest representatives of the earthly church, where the highest representatives of earthly power, where the Crowned Leader of the people himself, where representatives of all classes and nationalities have gathered from all the towns, nooks and even the far outskirts of the entire immensely vast Orthodox country, where this plural assembly with one mouth and one heart now raises a prayer to heaven - how not to think there is the presence of heaven itself, the Heavenly King Himself with all His army? And I would like to think that at that time the vaults of this church moved apart to embrace the entire vault of heaven, with all its glory, and the very walls of the church expanded so much that they could accommodate all the millions of Orthodox believers throughout holy Rus'. At this time, this church was a vanishing point where people rushed, where the spiritual gaze of all Orthodox Christians met; it was the focus of the purest thoughts, the best feelings, the highest joys, with which the hearts of all believers were filled, the majority of whom, although their bodies were many thousands of miles away, rushed here with their hearts and dwelt here with their souls! So, what was this church if not the receptacle for the radiant, triumphant entire earthly church? And in this triumph of the earthly church - how can one not imagine the participation of the always triumphant heavenly Church?.. And how I wanted to think that in these minutes, when in the solemn meeting of the earthly church under the arches of this church this tender singing was heard for the first time: “We bless you, Reverend Father Seraphim” and when all those present were overwhelmed by a feeling of an inexpressibly blissful state and were illuminated by a joyful penetration into a new, hitherto unknown area of ​​the highest spiritual pleasures - how I wanted to think that in these minutes and in The triumphant Church of Heaven was worthy of the glorification of St. Seraphim! And this triumph of the earthly church, these spiritual joys and pleasures of the souls of the Orthodox during this triumph, were they not only a weak shadow, a pale reflection of that glorious triumph that was in heaven, a reflection of that indescribable joy into which the glorious inhabitant of the heavenly villages, now glorified on earth, was introduced?.. The clergy and singers sang the magnification. After reading the Gospel, the Metropolitan and the bishops venerated the holy relics and anointed themselves with consecrated oil. And so the Sovereign Ruler of the Russian land humbly kneels before the coffin, in which lie the remains of a once wretched, once ignorant elder, and now a new intercessor of the Orthodox Russian land, wondrous among the saints of God, kisses and reverently kisses the holy remains and receives anointing with oil from the Metropolitan. Then the Grand Dukes and Duchesses apply and accept the anointing of the Empress Tsarina. Next, the clergy and everyone else present in the cathedral approach. “Father Seraphim, heal us!” With the help of an eyewitness, what happened and what was felt on this ever-memorable evening and on this unforgettable night under the arches of the church, within the walls of the Assumption Cathedral is depicted here. But what was there at that time outside, outside the walls of the cathedral, but within the walls of the monastery? And what was behind the walls of the monastery and far, far from the very walls of the monastery, under the vault of the open sky, in the walls of a dense and high forest, beyond which even the spire of the bell tower is not visible, where, however, now tens of thousands of people gathered and just as solemnly celebrated that sacred, all-festive and saving night?.. Oh, and there were pictures that brought the believing, pious soul into delight and amazement and evoked high and deep feelings thoughts!.. At the northern gates of the cathedral, a large mass of people appeared and formed a wide circle, which began to be filled with various sick and ailing people. Here were the blind, the dumb, the lame, the paralytic, the demon-possessed, and all sorts of sick people. Who was held in their arms, who stood, who crawled “on all fours,” who sat on a wheelbarrow or lay on a bed, on a stretcher, who inspired special pity with their illness, who brought horror and shudder to those around them with their appearance... All these patients followed the coffin at a distance, but when they were cut off by the mass of people from the procession of the cross, after he headed inside the cathedral, then they were all united here in one place, in plain sight the coffin of the Reverend at the church northern gates. And it was necessary to personally see all these patients and stand in their circle in order to imagine this whole, soul-rending picture. Strange screams, screams, moans stood in the air above this circle. The big adults shout: “Father Seraphim!”, “You are our father!”, “You are our miracle worker!”, “Our healer!”, “Heal us!” Small children scream in the arms of their fathers and mothers, repeating the same words or without any words, they scream, carried away simply by elemental force, by the general cry that holds among the people. They scream and scream and the dumb in their strange, wild voice, the paralyzed and the seriously ill scream and scream, and together they groan from unbearable suffering. Hysterical, possessed women emit wild, terrible, frantic screams. All these cries equally testified to the painful wounds of a grieving heart, and they all equally expressed the cry of a grieving soul, addressed with the same hope, with the same love to the new Wonderworker, the new Healer, the Father, the Father, who is equally close to every suffering heart. And great was the faith of all these sufferers who had gathered here from different ends, even the farthest ends of Russia: among them were from the Crimea, the Caucasus and even distant Siberia. It is not surprising how the healthy, breathing with strength and life gathered here among many thousands of people from various distant places - it is amazing how these, barely moving, crippled, lame and wretched, moved thousands of miles to cover the distance from their place of residence to this place; The patience of those who transported their sick in wheelbarrows or carried them on stretchers for many hundreds of miles, tormented by hunger, penetrated to the bones by rain and cold, exhausted by all the difficulties of a long journey, is amazing. And great is the love for Father Seraphim of all these sick people who never stop screaming and screaming for him. Each of them wishes with all his heart a quick healing from his illness, but healing has not yet come and, however, he does not stop screaming and crying out for help in the hope that if not now, then soon and then there will be an end to his ordeal, and in this hope he receives consolation and relief from his grief. And many, many were not put to shame by this hope: they waited until the end of their sorrows and sufferings and returned home with complete joy, glorifying and praising God and glorifying the new miracle worker, marvelous among the saints. Those who did not receive complete physical recovery received spiritual renewal, spiritual rebirth, which served to alleviate grief - he, in the place where all human grief had gathered, learned submission to the will of God and complete readiness to grieve and suffer to the end: “apparently, according to one’s sins” and “apparently, it pleases God.” All-night celebration outside the monastery fence Night falls quietly over the blessed land. The sky is open and looks in surprise with thousands of stars at the wonderful pictures of this land. If anyone had come out of the western gate of the monastery fence at that time, he would have been the spectator of a magnificent, wonderful panorama. From the gates of the monastery to the river and along the river bank, and between the trees of the forest, over a space of several miles, in the twilight of the night, endless rows of many thousands of small lights burn and glow, and throughout this space one can hear either sighs and cries, or mysterious whispers, or the sharp sounds of barely restrained sobs, or wonderful singing rushing from somewhere in the distance, along the surface of the waters, from the banks of the river and from the depths of the forest. The rows of lights are the burning wax candles of a whole multitude of pilgrims, in a long, endless row located from the monastery gates into the depths of the forest itself. Everywhere and around the monastery there are people, pilgrims... All these people stand in orderly order, in a reverent mood, standing as one should stand in the church of God. True, the church is still far from them, but with their souls they rush there, and their imagination creates wonderful pictures, imagining in their own way what is happening there. However, not without service here either. In some places there is a particularly dense crowd of people. From here you can hear the singing of many voices, which then falls silent and then resounds again. Come closer and you can hear a loud, touching reading. Either a monk or a simpleton reads an akathist to the Savior, the Mother of God. But in one place, a blind man reads an akathist to the Savior in a sonorous voice, without a book, exclaiming: “Jesus, my Hope, do not forsake me; Jesus, My helper, do not reject me! Jesus, My Creator, do not forget me! This is how the blind man clearly pronounces - and everyone around him answers in unison: “Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me!..” It is impossible to listen to this akathist at any time without heartfelt tenderness, especially since it was touching at that time, and heard, moreover, from the lips of a blind man. “Jesus, Sun of righteousness, illuminate me! Jesus, the Removed Light, shine upon me! Jesus, deliver me from mental and physical illnesses!..” The blind man read this, but not the printed words, for he did not see them - he expressed his very feelings. And hearing this sincere, touching, soul-to-soul reading, those around them sang even more diligently, even more tenderly: “Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me.” In some places, only singing can be heard. They sing everything they know by heart from church hymns: “Praise the name of the Lord,” “You have seen the Resurrection of Christ,” “Glory to God in the highest,” songs of the Easter canon: “Resurrection day, let us be enlightened, people,” “Come, let us drink new beer,” “Shine, shine, new Jerusalem”... But many stand in a concentrated, silent mood. With all their attention they went somewhere far, far away. It’s as if they are listening to some secret that is happening somewhere out there and which they did not want to disturb even with the slightest sigh; only their eyes from time to time lit up with a special brilliance and their faces lit up with a bright blush, as if through the darkness of the night they suddenly saw something from which they came to secret delight. Only the ringing of bells, which was heard from time to time from the monastery bell tower and spread like a wave throughout the entire surrounding area, awakened them from their secret thoughts... Yes, the ringing of the bells brought special animation to this whole picture. And if he is always joyful for the heart of the Orthodox, then all the more so was he desired and joyful on this sacred night for everyone who stood in sight of the monastery fence, within whose walls the glorification of the new saint of God was solemnly taking place at that time. Five blind novices-ringers brought the ringing of the Sarov bells into wondrous, harmonious musical harmony. And you had to hear this ringing in order to judge all its wonderful harmony. The ringing of small bells begins; high, pleasant, silvery sounds are heard. With the next strikes on the medium and large bells, increasingly lower, thick tones are heard in a descending sequence, which are finally covered by the strong ringing of the large bell. The ringing “all the way” with its wonderful melody involuntarily evoked a prayerful mood in everyone. Its sounds penetrated deeply into the souls of all pilgrims. Quiet and clear summer night. There's not a cloud in the sky. Against its blue background, the entire Sarov monastery with all its churches is clearly outlined. Now it's all flooded with lights from top to bottom, glitters as if in golden decoration. And above all these lights, a wonderful radiance is reflected in the air, which, like a halo, surrounds the entire monastery. And everywhere you look, everything is lights and lights; either fires are burning along the forest - and how many, how many there are! - or wax candles are burning. This whole extraordinary picture puts me in an extraordinary mood. And even though you are far from the church, when you see this picture your soul is touched and you receive complete satisfaction. Nature itself has stopped, as it were, in its movement and stands in mute silence, as if enchanted by a wonderful, harmonious ringing. And people’s hearts are full of delight and tenderness. Like birds in captivity, they fight and rush into the open space, towards the pouring sounds of the solemn ringing. And with these sounds, the new sounds of the soul evoked by them merge together, merging into one common enthusiastic response to the great Sarov triumph. And not only for those standing in sight of the monastery walls, the ringing of the Sarov bell tower was joyful at that time - no, it carried delight and joy there, far into the depths of the high, centuries-old forest, within the walls of which, under the vault of the open sky, tens of thousands of people now gathered, as I said, to celebrate this sacred and saving night. Clearly audible here, it reminded everyone of the proximity of a shrine dear to everyone’s heart. Three miles from the monastery, near the monastery mill, there is a clearing in the forest, nicknamed “The Town.” Many barracks were built here, designed for 20 thousand people, but on days of celebration they could accommodate many more. Thus, it was not without reason that the name “Town” was assigned to this place. Here, indeed, there was a town, which in terms of population could even compete with a large city, but in terms of the composition of the population and its internal structure it had no equal. There were people of all ranks and conditions, all dialects and nationalities, who came here from different parts of Russia. Everyone lived the same life, like members of the same family. There was no thought or government, but there was order and harmony. All matters were decided not by the opinion of the public, but by the general, identically agreed opinion of everyone. So everyone had the same thoughts, the same feelings, the same moods. Here was the Church of Christ from apostolic times. Everyone had one heart, one soul. The haves shared with the have-nots, the rich and noble shared all the inconveniences of a crowded life with the poor and wretched: they ate dry bread with them, slept with them on planks, or further on the bare ground; even the division by gender, previously observed in the barracks, eventually began to be ignored and, naturally, violated - and men lived freely in the women’s barracks, and women lived in the men’s barracks. The thought of temptation here was just as inappropriate and unacceptable as in the church. And the very suggestion of this thought would be an insult to pious feelings. In this “town”, at its ends there were two temporary chapels, the distance between them was at least a mile. In these chapels, constant service was performed for two weeks: until the day of the glorification of St. Seraphim - the service of requiems, from that day - the service of prayers, in the evenings an all-night vigil was celebrated. Each of the pilgrims - and how many, how many there were! - considered it his duty to serve a memorial service for Father Seraphim before his glorification and a prayer service to him after his glorification. Of course, this or that service was not sent for everyone individually. Services ran from early morning continuously until late at night, and in recent days throughout the night. The clergy were replaced in turns. The pilgrims came in groups of twenty or thirty people with notes of names about repose or health. After reading these notes, the memorial service or prayer service ended - and began again for a new party, and so on continuously and, it seemed, without end. When the bell rang for the all-night vigil (on the 18th) from the Sarov bell tower, the whole “town” was already on its feet. The entire area between the chapels and other areas adjacent to the chapels were covered with people who stood in a dense wall throughout this entire space. Despite the fact that the religious procession, which recently set off from here to the Diveyevo chapel, carried away a large crowd of people, the number of people did not seem to decrease. The service of the all-night vigil began. In the middle of the chapel there is a lectern with an icon of St. Seraphim, whose glorification was now gathered in such a countless number of newcomers from all over Rus' in this forest wilderness. In front of the icon there are candlesticks lined with large candles. Those standing near these candlesticks light their own candles from the burning candles, those standing behind them light their own candles from their candles, etc. - and immediately the entire area was covered with small, flickering lights. A wonderful sight opened up: the entire space, as far as the eye could see, was dotted with living heads and flooded with flickering lights; a boundless sea of ​​heads and a boundless sea of ​​lights. And the sea was not calm: the hands raised for the sign of the cross, the heads and bodies bowed at the same time, brought him into constant excitement. And the sea was not quiet: now a quiet whisper was heard, now deep sighs, now sobs and screams, now friendly singing - all this was like the splashing or noise of sea waves. And this noise was terrible when, at a certain moment of the service, reminiscent of the moment of the transfer of holy relics to the Assumption Cathedral and coinciding with it in time, screams and soul-tearing cries suddenly arose from everywhere - all the unfortunate and sick, of whom there were many here. The believing hearts of many, naturally, burned with the desire to now penetrate the Sarov fence to see all the splendor of the celebration there. But blessed are those who have not seen and believed, but, looking around and seeing all this countless multitude, recognizing themselves here among this crowded family as far from being alone, realizing the fair impossibility of fitting into the fence with this family - seeing and realizing all this, everyone’s heart humbled itself in its impulses, receiving complete satisfaction in what it was worthy of experiencing and feeling here. Each was completely content and satisfied with the fact that in these sacred moments the Lord vouchsafed him to be present, if not in the monastery itself, then near it, in the places trodden by the feet of St. Seraphim, that his heart was now filled with the best thoughts and feelings, the purest joys and the highest pleasures. Even when everyone was at home, just preparing to go here, his heart was already filled with joy, anticipating all the sweetness of the expected spiritual pleasures; and now, the closer these most important, sacred moments approached, the more the heart, cleansed of all unclean attacks, was filled with the best thoughts and feelings and, reaching the highest impulses, the more it came into delight and tenderness. What was previously an object of aspirations and desires has now become an object of direct contemplation, an object of immediate pure pleasure. Each one brought here everything that he had, that he had in his heart the best, the most precious, that he carefully, carefully preserved all his life. And the moment came when a person’s heart sought to reveal all its treasure, and in this desire the heart of one met the heart of another, a third, etc. Thousands of hearts were revealed to each other in their best content, communicating to each other and borrowing from each other the aroma of pure thoughts, the fragrance of holy feelings. And it happened. - Thousands of hearts, each enclosed in a separate chest, came out into the open and all united into one something majestic, something powerful, which seemed to reign over everyone, possessed everyone and powerfully controlled everyone, coordinating all the thoughts and feelings and all the aspirations of thousands of souls. This is how the closest unity of these thousands of souls took place: everyone imagined that everyone equally saw what he saw, everyone equally felt what he felt. And there was an incomprehensible charm in this unity of souls. Anyone who came again felt this charm so much that he immediately obeyed the general mood, coming into a secret agreement on thoughts and feelings with everyone... So they sang: “We bless you, Reverend Father Seraphim.” Here and there they knelt down. Everyone felt the same importance of this moment. It was dear to everyone to hear for the first time the glorification of St. Seraphim as a saint, sung by the earthly Church; all the more precious was it to hear this glorification on this blessed land and in such a great public meeting. Everyone’s faces were illuminated with extraordinary joy, indicating that, finally, what everyone had long expected and desired was now accomplished. Now this entire mass of thousands of people, opening their hearts, filled with the purest desires, directs them to a new saint, a new prayer book. Now everyone is in a hurry to pour out their hidden feelings before him. Now everyone, in the depths and silence of his heart, sweetly talks with the “Reverend, Father, Father” Seraphim, setting out before him all his sorrows, coming either from the troubles of life, or from the falls of sin, and all his needs. All thoughts, feelings and desires that had accumulated in everyone’s heart for many days in anticipation of these minutes have now reached the highest tension and come to a joyful resolution. And a new spiritual world opened up before man with all its highest, unearthly, ineffable joys, and it was so palpably close to everyone and it was so easy for the heart to enjoy its joys that one would like to live forever in these moments, that one would like to never awaken from this sweet oblivion of the soul immersed in the area of ​​these new higher sensations. At these moments the ringing can be heard from the Sarov bell tower. My heart began to beat and flutter even more. This ringing testified that there, in the holy monastery, a solemn, important moment had arrived, that there, too, the highest and best feelings were now stirring the minds and hearts of people. And the waves of solemn ringing rush, swaying and spreading in the distance, capturing along the way the thoughts and feelings of all people, so that they merge into one inseparable stream. Mighty blows of the solemn ringing, cutting through the air, seem to destroy the barriers separating hearts; the boundaries of space are collapsing - and the holy monastery seemed so close, and its dear shrine was so palpably close! They sang “Glory to God in the highest.” They sing first in the chapel and around the chapel, then the singing grows stronger and stronger, covering more and more space, reaching further rows. Who doesn't know this sacred song? Everyone tries to sing along, some stronger, some barely intelligibly, but in general the result is a wondrous, powerful, thousand-voice singing that fills and resounds throughout the entire neighborhood. And with every new word, with every new verse, a new excitement seizes the heart, and the singing becomes stronger, more powerful. And now thousands of souls have merged into one common hum and with one mouth and one heart they glorify and sing the most honorable and magnificent Name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Chapel services and religious processions What happened and was observed during these days and on this sacred night in the “town” - the same or similar thing happened at other chapels that were built in places of special concentration or special movement of people and of which, besides the two in the “town”, there were six more: 1) on the dam or on the Diveevskaya road, 2) “on the nameless”, 3) at the hospital barracks, 4) at the source, 5) on the Ponetaevskaya road and 6) “in the distant desert.” The first two are half a mile from the monastery, the next three are two miles away, and the last one is about five miles away. Built by the wise order of the Most Reverend Innocent, these chapels with divine services in them were of great importance and accomplished a great work. Here the hearts of many thousands of people united in common prayer to God and the new Pleasant of God, Father Seraphim, and poured out their best thoughts and feelings; here, exhausted by the sorrows and sorrows of everyday life and overwhelmed by waves of passions, these hearts received quiet consolation and true consolation, found a quiet refuge and true peace; here, enjoying the highest joys of earthly existence, they partook of the sweets of the heavenly, heavenly world... Whoever attended the service at the chapels will retain in his soul for the rest of his life the memory of the best hours and minutes he experienced here. The sonorous, pleasant, sincere voice of a priest, fervently and reverently performing the service; loud, enthusiastic, powerful singing; tears of tenderness; delights of joy; sighs and cries; blessed peace and quiet; the mysterious, sacred twilight of the night, and in its depths there is a quiet, timid flickering of a thousand lights, testifying to the fiery burning of a thousand hearts; the unanimous, all-encompassing, omnipotent prayer of this assembly of the people, so striking in its numbers - the totality of all these impressions produced a stunning effect on the pious soul and left indelible marks on it for the rest of its life... But there were special moments of delight of the soul, when the religious movement of the people, their religious excitement rose to the greatest heights. These are moments of religious processions. Wonderful moments! Here on the platform of the chapel (far away “in the town”) the clergy appeared, dressed in light vestments. They brought out banners, a cross and other icons. They raised large icons on stretchers: the Mother of God, St. Nicholas the Pleasant and St. Seraphim. The people began to move. The procession started. They sang “The zealous Intercessor...”, “Imams do not help others” and other chants. The procession approaches another chapel, from where another religious procession comes forward and joins the first. The banners are moving, slightly swaying and fluttering in the light wind, like sailing boats sailing on a choppy sea. The people are rapidly pouring in, swept by the general current, now pushing forward, now parting and flowing in wide waves to the sides, now hastily advancing from behind, capturing new living masses along the way, increasing in size and increasing in their enormous, elemental strength. And the singing is intensifying, covering more and more space and spreading far and wide through the forest, echoing the entire surrounding area... In recent years, general singing has developed so intensively throughout all the parishes of Holy Rus'. The highest diocesan authorities made private reminders about him and guidelines regarding him. And so strong, mass, but harmonious singing began to be heard, first in the buildings of church schools, then within the walls of many, many churches of saints. The people fell in love with singing, and properly organized singing choirs began to appear everywhere. But these folk choirs, these experiments in general singing, were only private sing-alongs - and it was necessary for all these choirs to come together, to unite all these masses of people from all over Russia, in order to organize this solemn general singing, in order to show this real marvelous national singing in its best performance. It’s as if, over the past few years, everyone has been intensively preparing to successfully carry out the exemplary lesson here. And it was necessary to hear this powerful, all-encompassing, all-conquering singing in order to be able to judge the effect it had on a believing, pious soul. The singing stopped. Reading can be heard. Then they read an akathist to the Savior, or to the Mother of God. The chorus rang out: “Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on us.” After lengthy chants, how did this short verse, sung with new enthusiasm, act with such force on excited souls! Not many words, but I like them too much. And listening to the reading, you wait impatiently for the intensely sublime cry to be heard again: “Jesus, Son of God...” and for this cry to be repeated again in enthusiastic, friendly mass singing. These words, bursting out of a thousand breasts, echo loudly in the surrounding forest and go into the very depths of it, getting lost in distant space. So the procession reaches the third chapel (“on the nameless one”), located two miles away from the “town”. Here a new religious procession and a new crowd of people join. The procession now covered an immense space and a countless number of people. So, growing and growing, it reaches the fourth chapel (“on the dam”), the final destination. Here it stops. Here the cathedral clergy perform a solemn funeral service. “Rest, O Lord, to the soul of Your departed servant.” The clergy sing so clearly, so earnestly. The singers and all the people repeat the same after them, some out loud, some barely audible to themselves. The people are praying earnestly. Tears are visible in the eyes, secret sighs are heard. They sang: “Rest with the saints.” Here and there they knelt down. The mind and heart of all are raised to heaven. The one for whom they pray is as close to everyone’s heart as the closest one – a native one. And everyone wants his sigh, his tears to reach the sky and be a joy to Father Seraphim, contributing to his glorification. Never has this service evoked so many thoughts, never stirred up feelings so much. Never has the meaning of the entire service touched the heart so closely and been comprehended so fully as now. So, in this order, religious processions were carried out on the 16th, 17th and 18th. They started at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. We set off from the distant chapel “on the town” and reached the chapel “on the dam”, from where, after the funeral service and all-night vigil, we returned back. The religious procession and the all-night vigil on the 19th were undoubtedly distinguished by their special solemnity. Here is how a participant in the celebration, priest V. Konobeevsky, writes about this: “Two hours before the start of the all-night vigil, a procession of the cross began from the chapel at the turn of the streets of the “town”, which, joining with the procession of the cross in the chapel in front of the barracks of the “town”, arrived at six o’clock at the Diveyevo chapel, where the all-night vigil was held at the cathedral. A mass of people accompanied the religious procession and took an active part in it: they carried icons of the Cross, the Mother of God, the Saint, banners, candlesticks and sang with enthusiasm. The singing began with a prayer service to the Lord the Savior. The touching chanting “Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on us” flowed like a mighty wave through the virgin Sarov forest and was heard in the gracious monastery; then a prayer service with akathist singing to the Most Holy Theotokos began. The tears and sighs of the people approaching the monastery, where an unprecedented celebration was about to take place, clearly testified to his religious mood and conscious movement to take a prayerful, albeit close to the monastery, part in the glorification of the Pleasant of God Seraphim. When the lithium began in the monastery, the religious enthusiasm of the people at that time was indescribable: everyone was on their knees with lit candles, everyone merged into one common prayer and cried out: “Servant Seraphim, pray to God for us!” At this wonderful moment, the words of the chronicler were recalled: “earth and heaven rejoiced.” The people remained in such a blessed mood all night, glorifying God and His Pleasant in singing and spiritual songs. Truly, this was an all-celebratory and saving night, which Father Seraphim predicted during his ascetic life, saying that in the middle of summer they would sing Easter. Indeed, on this night Easter hymns were also heard, with the singing of which the blessed Father Seraphim ended his earthly wandering and passed on to the world where he sings to God our Savior.” The picture was remarkable when the religious procession returned from the Diveyevo chapel. Everyone walked with lighted candles, as after the service on the holy night of Maundy Thursday. Everyone was silently concentrated, everyone focused their attention with deep reverence on the moment they were experiencing, full of great mystery. “On the way back,” writes another participant in the celebration, priest V. Zvonarev, “when we slowly approached our chapel (the farthest one “in the town”), it was difficult and even completely impossible to identify and distinguish between those who participated in the procession from those who remained in place. Everywhere and everywhere there were people and people. From one chapel to another, at a distance of at least a mile, the entire square was literally flooded with people... Everyone had lit candles in their hands. Many are on their knees. Many cried with emotion. Everywhere and everywhere one can see a deep reverence for the event being experienced. An all-night vigil was still held here. When after this I returned to the monastery, all along the way people stood in long lines and large crowds and scurried along the road and on both sides of the road in the forest, back and forth.” The all-night vigil ended. But this did not end the prayer that night. It was, as has been said, a truly sacred and celebratory night. Throughout its entire duration, the people, partly decreasing, partly replenished again, stood near the chapel, listening to the continuously performed prayer singing to the new saint, Father Seraphim. And the candles were lit again; generous donations of money and linen again flowed like a river; and again a prayerful whisper, deep sighs of a weary chest swept through the air over this entire space; again the earth was watered with the dew of tears falling from the eyes of those praying; and there, in the chapel, everything was burning and many candles were burning brightly; and from there, a wonderful, touching, incessant singing was heard and heard: “Reverend Father Seraphim, pray to God for us” - and so on until the morning... Dawn broke in the east. The edge of the red sun appeared from behind the forest. A new day dawned over the holy monastery. And it was as if the night had not yet ended, and it was as if it had never happened. There were only the evening of one day and the morning of another day. And for many, many, these two days merged into one, as if inseparable day. Elder Seraphim re-enters the “Holy of Holies” of the earthly church They announced the good news for the late liturgy. For some standing outside the monastery, this good news aroused regret that they could not be present in the church at this time and enjoy the divine service. The heart, naturally, strove and longed to go to where the dear shrine was. But humility - this distinctive virtuous trait of St. Seraphim - was in an incomprehensible way communicated from him to those united here in one love for him - to all the pilgrims. And with this feeling of humility, that regret was momentary - in general, everyone had complete contentment in their souls with what everyone had experienced, felt and experienced. And in this contentment, everyone said to himself or to others: “And for this I don’t know how to thank the Lord God - where could I see all this.” The liturgy began. In the Assumption Cathedral, the service was performed by: Vladyka Metropolitan Anthony, Archbishop Dimitri and Bishops Nazarius and Innocent with twelve archimandrites, eight archpriests and priests. The Metropolitan Choir and the Tambov Bishop's Choir sang. “The Only Begotten Son” (Bortnyansky), “Like the Cherubim” (Bakhmetev No. 7), “I Believe” (Berezovsky), “It is Worthy to Eat” (Azeev), the sacramental one - “Come, monks of multitude” (Ternov) - all these hymns were performed in a worthy manner by the metropolitan choir, and “The Grace of the World” (Arkhangelsky No. 5) - Tambov bishop. The solemn cathedral of the clergy, dressed in golden-silk clothes with images of the Seraphim; the rite of the Divine Liturgy performed is extremely solemnly important; unusually harmonious, consonant, desirable, touching singing; the reverent presence in the church of the Most August Family, the reverent mood of all those praying with a tender soul and a contrite heart; and above all this - a breath of grace-filled silence, the charm of a nearby shrine, a current of spiritual fragrance - all this, united into one majestic whole, was capable of striking to the very depths even an insensitive, stony heart, shaking even an unbelieving soul. Seventy years ago in this church, in front of the royal doors, there stood a modest oak coffin in which lay the body of the wretched old man Father Seraphim. Then a funeral liturgy was performed for the deceased and a funeral service over him. This coffin stood in the church for eight days, but these were the last days when the deceased with his body was present at the divine service in the church. After this, the coffin with the body lying in it was lowered into the ground and was hidden in it. Seventy years passed, and again what was given to it was taken from the earth, what was preserved in it only for a time. And again now there stands in the church, in front of the royal doors, a coffin, but already rich, decorated, and in it there are no longer “dusts”, but the “flourishing bones” of the now wondrous saint of God, the once wretched old man Father Seraphim. And, it seems, the one who had hitherto rested in it is now rising from the grave in order to take a visible part in the service of the liturgy being celebrated, in order to introduce the earthly church into the heavenly world, into communion with the heavenly Church. This thought was especially clear when they sang: “Come, let us worship”... The one who previously cried out from the grave: “Weep for me, brothers and friends, relatives and friends,” now clearly announces to everyone: “Come, let us rejoice in the Lord, who has crushed the power of death”; he, now lifted up by a numerous cathedral of resplendent clergy, apparently enters into the closest unity with him and solemnly enters into the performance of divine service, into unanimous prayer with him. It is he, the Venerable Seraphim, surrounded by heavenly glory and accompanied by a solemn council of clergy - it is he who now seems to be inviting: “Come, let us worship and fall before Christ”... Apparently accompanied into the holy of holies of the earthly church, he now invisibly leads those accompanying him to the Heavenly Throne before the Face of the Most High. And this loud, solemnly expressive singing, swiftly rushing from the altar and filling the entire church, was not the singing of a united choir of earthly and heavenly? This is how it struck, how it captured the hearts of all those praying. And it was felt by everyone standing in the church that there, indeed, all the High Powers and all the earthly beings who had achieved glory now stood before the throne of the Lord and before the Face of Christ Himself, and bowed before Him and fell before Him. And it became scary that we were now approaching the Heavenly Jerusalem and the city of the Living God, approaching the triumphant council of saints and the throne of the Almighty Himself; and considering ourselves unworthy to stand before the Face of Christ, surrounded by the face of saints, no longer daring to approach Him in order to fall before Him, we cry from the depths of our souls: “Save us, Son of God”... And to the singing of the clergy “Come, let us worship and fall to Christ,” the choirs (right and left one after the other) respond as if for us, those who are coming, only by singing the second half of the song: “Save us, the Son of God, wondrous among the saints, singing to You: Hallelujah... We now stand, as if behind a certain line, as the Jews once stood behind a certain line in fear and trembling, at the sound of a trumpet, at the peals of terrible, incessant thunder, at the dazzling brilliance of continuous lightning, at the sight of Sinai trembling in the flames and smoking, when the Lord talked with Moses. And as the Lord then said to Moses: go up to the Lord, you and Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel, and worship the Lord from afar, and let not the people go up (Ex. 24:1), - so it seemed that now the Lord says to the reverend Father Seraphim: “Ascend to the Lord, you and the high priest, the saints and priests and the whole sacred Synclite, and worship the Lord in the place of the people, standing in the distance." And then a trumpet sound is heard, this loud, powerful, this imperious “Come, let us worship,” and the people, standing as if in the distance in sight of the throne of the Lord, surrounded by the brilliance of inexplicable glory, cry out in fear and trembling: “Save us, Son of God.” A wonderful moment of inexpressible delight! And this is how one eyewitness, a well-known admirer of the memory of St. Seraphim 25, beautifully and artistically describes it under the first living impression: “Here is the small entrance, and the entire numerous cathedral of servants (there were, it seems, 12 pairs of archimandrites and priests) sang a loud and imperious “come, let us worship.” Here Metropolitan Anthony overshadows the people on four sides with flaming dikiria and trikiria; Now, with the singing of the mighty, elemental, like a wide-spread flood, of the words: “Save us, Son of God, in the saints of the wondrous One who sings Ti,” the procession moved forward. I didn’t expect it, I forgot about what was going to happen next, and that’s why it made the strongest impression on me. The procession surrounded the hearse with the coffin; the archimandrites and priests lifted the coffin and carried it following the Gospel to the altar. And with the peals of singing that filled the entire church, bursting out with singing, conscious, powerful, calm in its animation, prayer and at the same time glorifying the King of Kings - with the peals of this singing, Elder Seraphim again entered the “Holy of Holies” of the earthly church - he, who had so long boldly stood close to the Great Throne. There are events that can captivate a skeptic and move the most cold-blooded, restrained person to tears. There was something irresistibly effective in this minute, when from the middle of the cathedral, Elder Seraphim in his coffin slowly approached the altar. Here he entered among a swarm of golden vestments under golden caps, now he walks slowly around the throne, and the powerful “Save us, Son of God, in the holy wonders” continues to flutter in the air, rushes into the high dome, fills all the corners of the church and every beating heart. Here again the coffin appears in the Royal Doors and slowly descends from the salt, and the cathedral still resounds with the words: “Save us, Son of God, who art wondrous in the Saints, singing Ti.” The coffin is brought to the shrine and, with some effort, it is placed into it. It's done! The city cannot hide on top of a mountain; they light a lamp below and place it under a bushel, but on a candlestick, and it gives light to everyone.” There was an explosion of excited feeling. There was a breath of calming, blessed silence. Slowly ascending from the lower notes of a pleasant, sonorous, thick octave to the middle and moderately high notes of a gradually developing, gradually unfolding in the strength of his full-voiced baritone, the intelligible, impressive reading of the Apostle and then the reading of the Gospel slowly and calmly proceed. Reverent attention reigns, which remains in a constantly tense state until the very end of the service. They sing “Like the Cherubim,” “Mercy of the World,” “We Sing to You”... These are the moments of the liturgy that always excite the believing soul to special attention. And all the more so was this excitement felt now, when the soul so inseparably, so directly surrendered itself entirely to heavenly delight. The sounds of sweet singing embrace the submissive soul and carry it in their waves, and she, immersed in joyful contemplation, calmly surrenders to their flow... And so easily she feels herself, carried away by them into the distance of the vast expanse of a wonderful, new world opening before her... At the end of the liturgy, His Eminence Archbishop Demetrius delivered a word in which he said: “What a great, highly significant, deeply instructive day we are all experiencing now - this majestic, pious gathering of the sons and daughters of our Holy Orthodox Church of Russia! And all Orthodox Russia celebrates and rejoices with us. The solitary ascetic monastery temporarily turned into a crowded city. The always deserted, silent Sarov forest is now full of excitement and chatter, movement and noise. But this is not a disturbance of ordinary concerns and often petty interests; This is not the noise of everyday vanity. This is a whisper of deep emotional tenderness in places; this is the roar of the liveliest spiritual joy running from mouth to mouth; this is a loud explosion of reverent amazement, delight at what is happening. This is a mighty upsurge and an uncontrollable, noisy manifestation of the strong and healthy spirit of piety that Orthodox Rus' breathes and lives with. The lame walk, the blind see, the dumb speak. And blessed is he who is not offended by this. Blessed is whose heart has not remained untouched in its deepest recesses by all the wonderful things happening before our eyes." After this, a prayer service to St. Seraphim began. They sang the troparion, and then the archimandrites approached the shrine and took out the coffin with the holy relics. A religious procession emerged from the cathedral and followed around the church. The coffin with the holy relics was carried by the Emperor and the Grand Dukes with the participation of the archimandrites. Along the route, just as the day before, the people stood like a living wall, and religious excitement among them again reached the highest development and intensity. And again the crying and sobbing of husbands and women were heard, and the delight of joy and tears of tenderness were visible. Upon the return of the procession to the cathedral, Metropolitan Anthony, kneeling, read a clear, tender prayer to St. Seraphim, and then the prayer service ended with the usual many years. Their Imperial Majesties, having venerated the holy relics, accepted the blessing from the Metropolitan and at the same time from him - the holy icons with the image of the newly glorified Venerable Father Seraphim - and reverently left the cathedral. Thus the rite of glorious celebration took place. Thus, the moment of great, deeply significant events passed into eternity. But he did not disappear without a trace: for many he was the beginning of a new life, the beginning of new days, and the holy memories of him will forever be preserved in their souls. Royal guests at the monastery meal Upon leaving the church, Their Imperial Majesties and Their Imperial Highnesses departed for the chambers of the Empress Maria Feodorovna, where they deigned to receive tea. From here to the monastery refectory building there was a chain of soldiers, behind which, crowding, the people continued to stand, waiting to leave the Emperor’s chambers in order to see His bright face again, to again say to Him their heartfelt greetings and thereby testify to Him their extraordinary joy on the occasion of the great triumph that had taken place. Neither the duration of the service nor the approaching time for dinner could weaken the passionate impulse in him - the impetuous desire - to see his dear Tsar again, even if not for the first time. So, driven by this impulse, a small crowd separated, approached the fence near the chambers and stood along it. This crowd consisted mostly of peasants who had come from different places, and who, by their appearance, seemed poor, forced, and tortured. They eagerly direct their gaze to the windows of the chambers, thinking to see dear Faces there. Here is one window open. The face of the Empress Maria Feodorovna appeared there. Everyone came to joy; They cheerfully started talking to each other: “This is the Mother Empress,” “This is the Empress Maria Feodorovna,” “How good She is!”, “How kind!”, “How kindly She looks!” Simple, unsophisticated, but sincere, soul-touching exclamations. And indeed, how tenderly She looks! She apparently became interested in this handful of people, who so greedily fixed their trusting gazes on Her, full of love and delight. Here She looks at these people with her attentive, quiet, affectionate gaze, responding to the visible expression of their greetings with appropriate signs... The Empress looks for a long time so searchingly, with her soft, passive gaze... And so, in memory of these precious minutes of silent meeting with the people, the Empress opens her pocket photographic camera, and the group standing in front of the window was instantly reflected on the surface of the glass in a small hole, to be imprinted there forever... At two o'clock in the afternoon, Their Imperial Majesties and Their Highnesses left their chambers and headed to the monastery refectory to take a fraternal festive meal. The people became excited and triumphed. Everyone uncovered their heads. A friendly, loud “hurray” was heard. In the refectory there was already a full assembly of everyone who had received the honor of being invited. The prayer has been read. Blessed is the meal. Everyone took their places with due reverence. The Tsar sits with the August Family among the highest clergy, noble boyars and other honorable persons. His radiant face, affectionately addressed to everyone, like a red sun, warms the hearts of all those present. And at the same time I remember pictures from ancient Russian history - how once great princes and tsars, visiting holy monasteries, often partook there of a fraternal meal. Here Prince Izyaslav, talking with the Monk Theodosius, sat up until late. The monk ordered a meal to be prepared for him and his retinue. Izyaslav eats food with special pleasure; he liked the monastery brushes too much, and he asks the Monk Theodosius: “Why do these brushes seem so especially sweet?” Here the Monk Sergius invites Prince Demetrius Ioannovich, who is going to battle, to eat food in the monastery and, while treating him to it, says: “This lunch, Grand Duke, will be good for you. The Lord God is your helper; The time has not yet come for you to wear the crown of victory, but for many, countless of your companions, the crowns of sufferers are ready.” This meal, which the Emperor now eats with all those close and chosen, was from the Monk Seraphim. A year has passed. The time has come for great events. After the bright days came days of severe sorrow. And now, comparing in my memory the dinner of Prince Demetrius Ioannovich from the Monk Sergius and this meal of the Monk Seraphim, I somehow want to give them, in a sense, the same character! And I would like to apply the significant words spoken by St. Sergius to Prince Demetrius to the present occasion. Who knew and was aware then of all those present about what alarming clouds were gathering on the horizon of our social life and what sad events were approaching? But was this hidden from the Monk Seraphim, who, even in his earthly life, already foresaw and predicted the onset of great sorrow following the bright triumph? The human heart has a premonition of great events. And was it not this vague and indefinite premonition of imminent sorrow that prompted and irresistibly drew the Tsar’s heart here, to the monastery of the Monk Seraphim, so that here with appropriate solemnity he could open the new lamp of faith, hitherto hidden under a bushel, and place it on the candlestick, so that it would shine for everyone; so that, with the light of a new lamp, the impending darkness of anxiety and sadness may be dispelled; so that here, under the shelter of Father Seraphim, a true compassionate and ever-present consoler, we can forget for a while from heavy thoughts and worries and receive encouragement and reinforcement in view of the great labors ahead?.. And now, while partaking of the dishes of the brotherly meal, after the happy moments of bright celebration and under the shadow of the thought of the proximity of the Venerable Seraphim himself, as if offering this meal, did not the Tsar’s heart feel the special sweetness of these dishes, as Prince Izyaslav once did from the meal of the Venerable Theodosius? And didn’t you experience special consolation, as Prince Demetrius once did, from the meal of St. Sergius?.. And, seeing into the immediate distance of future events, did not the Monk Seraphim say to the Sovereign the same thing that the Monk Sergius once said to Prince Demetrius: “This dinner, Sovereign, will be for your benefit. The Lord God is your helper; The time has not yet come for You to wear the crown of victory, but for many, countless of your companions, the crowns of sufferers are ready.” And if the bright face of the Sovereign was so pleased and joyful, was it not because inside his heart He heard this, although indistinct, but palpable, encouraging voice of the Monk Seraphim and, in the further continuation of the secret conversation with him, those reassuring, significant words with which the Monk Sergius once consoled and admonished Prince Demetrius: “The enemy awaits final destruction, but You mercy, help and glory of God. Trust in the Lord and the Most Pure Mother of God, walk without fear. The Lord will help you against the godless: you will defeat your enemies." And this “many years”, solemnly proclaimed during the meal by the archdeacon: “To the Most Pious, Great Sovereign, Emperor Nicholas Alexandrovich, Autocrat of All-Russia, zealot of the Christian faith, protector and patron”... - was it not, first of all, the blessing and well-wishing of the Reverend Father Seraphim himself?.. O Reverend Father Seraphim! You, who during your life never let anyone leave you without consolation and who anticipated many with your predictions about awaiting sorrows in order to thereby prepare weak hearts for them, could you now be indifferent to future events that bring so much sorrow to the heart of the King, who showed such great, reverent love for your memory?! You saw what awaited your Dear Guests, and therefore the more you consoled them and the more their hearts were dissolved with joy, especially since what awaited Them was too alarming, too sad, requiring an indispensable preliminary approval in the hope of the undoubted mercy and goodness of God... While in the monastery refectory the “great consolation” was offered to the dear Guests, the people continued to crowd into the monastery fence, in no hurry to go to their places: the heart was so full of joy about what had happened, so much did not want to part with the place where so many beautiful and joyful things had recently been experienced and felt. Everyone walks around with bright faces, cheerful, enthusiastic; and the incessant solemn ringing lifts and elevates the soul even more. And such a beautiful day! Blue, cloudless sky. The sun is shining and warming so welcomingly. The air is so pleasant - warm and quiet. All nature seems to be smiling, having fun and rejoicing... Many forgot that they had not eaten anything yet - and the Scripture was justified on them: man will not live on bread alone (Matthew 4:4). Surprised, amazed, captured to the depths of their souls by the mystery that has taken place, they stand as if still not coming to their senses. I don’t want to tear myself away from this, which has embraced everyone so completely and brought everyone together in such a close, enthusiastic, joyful mood. And just as on the first day of Easter everyone rushes to congratulate each other on the bright triumph, so now everyone rushes to tell the other their delight and surprise and exchange their bright, joyful impressions and feelings with the other. With special animation and delight they tell each other about the miracles that have happened during these days, which they themselves have witnessed or which they have heard about from others. As the latest news, everyone is talking about the healing of a 12-year-old girl, Ekaterina Maslennikova, during the liturgy. The healing took place in the presence of Their Imperial Majesties, in front of the court retinue, singers and many others nearby. This girl was completely mute for two years. All the efforts of famous doctors were powerless to help her. When, during the small entrance, they carried the coffin with the holy relics, the mute mother (Evdokia Ivanova) touched the coffin with a handkerchief and then wiped her daughter’s face with it, and the latter immediately said: “Mom, let’s go.” At the end of the liturgy, at ordinary times, she partook of the Holy Mysteries and thus, as it were, testified before the whole church to the reality of the miracle that had taken place. Here are other stories: One mother brought a child to the stream of the source - and as soon as the stream touched his face, he suddenly clearly said: “Mom.” The mother, with tears of tenderness, declares that this is only the first time in her life that she has heard this word from him. Another mother brought her son, about 14 years old, in her arms to the spring, whose arms and legs were unnaturally cramped. He bathed and walked on his own feet. Now he has already reached the stone lying on the site of the exploits of Father Seraphim, and sat down here by the fence, and his mother is kneeling in front of the stone, with her hands raised up, and with tears of joy and tenderness she loudly thanks God for the mercy shown. Here's one father and mother from the Tomsk province were transporting on a cart. He is 32 years old. He hasn't walked for 20 years. They brought him to the source; he took a swim and walked on his own without outside help (Gerasim Vasilyev Petin, peasant of the village of Lapshevki, Semirechensky district). Many saw how one man, whose arms and legs were unnaturally cramped and twisted, kissed the lock of the door of the Church of Zosima and Savvaty, when the relics of St. Seraphim were still resting there - and then, before the eyes of those present, a wonderful change began to happen to him: his arms began to straighten, as did his legs, and even the crunching of bones could be heard. And I remember how yesterday I myself witnessed the healing of a woman. When the procession with the holy relics, after carrying them around the Assumption Cathedral, stopped in front of the western doors, one woman, standing not far away, behind bars, suddenly cried out unnaturally, so strangely: “I’ll come out.” This word “I’ll come out” was pronounced as if, before it flew out, it got stuck somewhere inside, in his throat - and the woman choked on it, and when it finally flew out, it was as if some kind of lump flew out with it. And the woman’s face, after expressing terrible suffering, suddenly lit up, and, making the sign of the cross, she said with deep emotion: “Glory to you, Lord!” After her, crossing themselves, everyone present repeats the same words. In one place there is a particularly concentrated crowd. I approach: they say that there are healed people here. Here is one woman, as she calls herself, Akilina Ivanova Mamontova, Kuban region, Caucasian Department, Ternovskaya village, tells about herself: she could not walk for 8 years, she was carried on a stretcher, and now, thank God, she is completely healthy. She was healed after mass, after the holy relics were enclosed. Here is another woman from the Tauride province, Melitopol district, village of Timoshovki, Fevronia Ivanova Gostintseva, young, 24 years old. In her first year of birth, she fell, due to an oversight by her nanny, and was hit so hard that she lost consciousness and lost the use of her arms and legs. Consciousness returned to her, but she remained relaxed until she was 5 years old, at which age she was taken to the Kozelytsanskaya Mother of God, and she received healing there. From that time on, she began to control both her arms and legs, did everything necessary in the house and went to church to pray, only a hump remained on her back and chest. In the 20th year of her life, her father suddenly died, this death affected her so much that she again lost consciousness, her arms and legs were paralyzed, wounds opened on her body in many places, and she lay motionless for 4 years - until now. In this state, her mother brought her here - and yesterday (6 p.m.) they brought her to the source, carried her there on a scarf, doused her with water - and she immediately felt some kind of freshness in her whole body and, after being taken out of the source, she immediately stood on her feet and, with the support of her mother, walked away from the source on her own feet (this story was later verified by a written message from the parish priest, who testifies that her wounds subsequently all closed). They point to one woman, they say that she was blind - and was healed. I come closer to her and begin to ask her if she is really healed; she says it's true. – And can you see everything well now? I show her a lilac leaf. I ask: “What color?” Answers: “Green.” I show a picture of St. Seraphim. I ask: “What is this?” Answers: “Painting.” I ask: “Who is depicted on it?” She makes out the signature. It turns out that she once saw and was literate. I asked where she was from. She replied that she was from the Krasnoyarsk district. I then begin to ask her questions: from what place? What's your name? How long have you been blind? But to all these questions, to my greatest surprise, as well as to the surprise of everyone present, she suddenly answered impulsively: “I can’t tell you anything now, father, don’t ask me, it’s as if I forgot all this, I know only one thing: that I was blind, but now I see.” I, amazed by such an answer, walked away from her and looked at her for a long time - and it was interesting to watch. Her eyes were directed somewhere into the boundless distance; she was apparently immersed in deep contemplation of a new world that suddenly opened up for her in all its unexpected, incomprehensible and boundless fullness. She looked and did not believe: was this in a dream or in reality? A new influx of joyful sensations, a stream of new feeling, a feeling of happy existence, tremulously beating in all her members, so embraced her that she unconsciously and obediently surrendered herself entirely to the new current. Now everything that was before has passed away, the whole old world has been forgotten - everything has been swallowed up by the wave of a new movement... She knows only one thing: she didn’t see before, but now she sees... I saw her later - in church: she came up to me and said: “Behold, father, I was blind, but now I am healed,” but I could not question her in detail and write it down, since I was in vestments and was serving a prayer service. At four o’clock in the afternoon I left the monastery fence: I needed to go to the “town” and see my relatives and friends. He looked forward, right and left, and was amazed by the countless mass of people. Ahead, I see people, surrounded by a chain of Cossacks, standing densely in a large space, waiting for their turn to enter the fence. To the right and left, a large mass of people is also moving back and forth densely and closely, cordoned off by soldiers of the grenadier regiment and Cossacks on the way to the pavilion. The Emperor must pass here now. All the highest Tambov nobility gathered in the pavilion, preparing for a worthy meeting of the Emperor, who was pleased to accept his invitation to evening tea. Here at the gate of the fence a “hurray” was heard, and, immediately and unanimously picked up by all this countless mass of people, it terribly shook the air. The Sovereign and Empresses rode in open carriages, affectionately responding with signs of greetings to these enthusiastic cries of the people bursting from everywhere. And again everyone is happy, and again their faces shine with happiness and joy, and their hearts are filled with jubilant delight. And the pavilion, all decorated with flags, immersed in luxurious greenery and flowers - it has now become the center where the eyes of all the people were directed from everywhere, seeing off their adored Tsar-Father... I envied the happiness of those who had the opportunity to see the Emperor so close, close, to receive Him in a simple home environment, in their family circle, as a guest, to offer Him refreshments, to have a conversation with Him, to listen to His affectionate, kind speech. When I was amazed at the countless multitude of people that appeared to my eyes upon leaving the fence, I thought that all the people had gathered here. But then I go to the town, three miles away, and again I see a huge crowded movement back and forth. And again I think: now, probably, all the people are here. But I come to the town and am surprised: it’s visible and invisible, you can’t even glance at the people there. And the traffic here is even busier, and even tighter and denser. You go into the barracks, look inside - and horror: there, from edge to edge, on both sides - on the bunks and in the middle on the bare ground - there were people everywhere. And you are surprised and horrified: where did those people come from and gather? Where will this one go? When will he wait his turn to enter the fence and venerate the holy relics?! At the chapel in the “town” a vigil was held for the holy prophet Elijah. I saw here this unanimous prayer of a great assembly of the people, this reverent tenderness, this prayerful hope of a thousand hearts - an indescribable picture of the highest excitement of the religious feeling of a thousand souls, united among themselves by one attention, one mood, one disposition. I heard quiet prayerful whispers rushing from everywhere, these secret sighs; I heard this enveloping, uniting, imperious, powerful singing. And, captivated by all this, I involuntarily submitted to the general mood. I also took part in the general singing and sang with special enthusiasm and zeal. “Praise the name of the Lord” and “Glory to God in the highest” were sung especially beautifully. After the all-night vigil, having drunk tea, after sunset, I and my brother, the psalm-reader, went back to the fence. It had already become dark when we approached the bridge, which is near the monastery buildings. Suddenly I see a chain, in the middle of the bridge an officer on a horse is blocking the passage and does not give access. I show him all my tickets, of which there were four, and he doesn’t want to know. I tell him: “After all, here is a ticket for the right to stay in the monastery fence.” “This ticket alone is not enough to let you in now. We need another ticket." I ask: “Which one?” - “Well, I won’t say that anymore.” What's it like? I wanted to see my brother through, but here they won’t let me in! What is the prospect of spending the night either here somewhere in the forest, under a tree, or going back to the town at night, along deep sand. I mentally resort to the help of St. Seraphim and again persistently begin to ask for a pass, presenting all reasonable arguments for this. And finally I get permission. And now we have already crossed the border. Delighted, happy and satisfied, we reach the fence and rush to the church. Having entered the church, I naturally headed where everyone was striving with such zeal and reverence - namely, to the shrine of the holy relics, now flooded from top to bottom with a brightly blazing fire. Having venerated the dear shrine, I stood nearby, on the platform, in front of the lectern - and immediately I had the opportunity to put on my clothes and serve a prayer service. It is clear with what deep reverence and tenderness I served this and other prayer services following it. “Reverend, Father Seraphim, pray to God for us” - this exclamation-chorus was especially touching at this moment, when it was felt with all my soul that the one to whom this exclamation belonged was now standing here close, so close, as if face to face, and heard it and listened to it - so undoubtedly the heart believed it. Having performed several prayer services, I gave way to other priests who expressed their desire and zeal, and I myself joined the ranks of those singing. So one person, standing at the side of the platform, turns to me and calls me to him. He says: “Father, just now I was approaching the holy relics with a crutch, and now I left the crutch over there - I no longer need it,” he points forward, at the front column, where I really see him. “I had no use in my left arm or leg for two years. And now, look, I’m walking freely,” and took a few steps forward and back. True, the steps are still unsteady, hesitant, but the pose is bold, confident, triumphant. “And I begin to control it with my left hand,” and at the same time he lifts it up and to the sides, and moves it this way and that. “I now feel how it is straightening out inside me... Like something is running through there...” There was no end to his delight and joy. I asked him about his name, age and place of residence. “His name is Alexey Fomin Gribtsov, he is 30 years old, he lives in the Stavropol province, Medvezhensky district, in the village of Krasnaya Polyana. Many, many sick people came up that night. And the blind, and the lame, and all sorts of paralytics. Some were brought, some were carried, some were lifted on a stretcher even to the coffin itself. Screams, groans and screams constantly filled the vaults of the church. Louder and more often heard were the strange, frantic screams of possessed women. In addition to what was described, there were other cases of healing during that night. The Lord also vouchsafed me to be an eyewitness of some of them. I see how now, one is approaching the coffin: he is tugging in every possible way, unnaturally, twisting; her head is shaking, as if she has nothing to hold on to. Now he has climbed onto the platform, now he is standing at the coffin, now he is about to venerate himself - and suddenly he somehow stretches out and straightens up; the head takes a naturally confident position; on the face, instead of convulsive distortions, an expression of bright joy and quiet calm appears. He comes in and comes away completely healthy. But mostly I had the opportunity to witness the healing of many hysterical, demon-possessed women. Here they bring one down: she is trembling, shaking all over, but she walks obediently, only shouting: “Oh! Oh! Oh!"... Now they are bringing another one with force: she resists, shouts: “I don’t want, I don’t want, leave me, don’t torture me!..” Suddenly an unnatural, piercing sound is heard, causing an involuntary shudder of everyone present in the church, and then a knock was heard, as if from a fall. It was a woman standing in the distance who screamed and fell to the floor and began to fight. They lift her up, forcefully lead her; she beats; It’s strange, it screams somehow brutally, and grinds its teeth. The closer they bring her, the stronger and more terrible the attack she experiences. The eyes look scary, tense, it seems like they are ready to jump out of their sockets. But they let her down, she screams so quickly: “I’ll go out, I’ll go out, I’ll go out...” - and finally calms down, subsides... She applies herself - and leaves with a bright, calm face, completely healthy, goes to the side, prays earnestly and thanks the Lord and the new saint of God and the glorious miracle worker Father Seraphim for the miraculous deliverance from a serious and terrible, painful illness. All night these terrible, frantic screams were heard, all night they brought down those possessed by this terrible disease. And it seems that everyone who suffered from this disease received relief or complete healing. It’s fair to say that all the others who flowed to the race of honest and multi-healing relics did not leave here empty-handed, each receiving something useful for himself: some admonition, some instruction, some consolation, some relief, some reinforcement, some revival to a new life and complete healing. I could notice this by watching those approaching all night. Soon, thanks to the kindness of one hieromonk, who gave up his place to me, I stood at the head of the tomb. And so now I am close, close to the Monk Seraphim, as soon as possible, and this closeness is not for a minute, not for one hour, but for the whole night, until the morning. All night, continuously and without change, I had the good fortune to stand in this place, constantly bending over the tomb, holding air in my hands and covering everyone with it who approached and applied to the holy relics. And what a night it was! - An unforgettable night! Unparalleled, incomparable, indescribable, sacred, divine and truly saving!.. I feel completely powerless to describe it. Where did I stand? In heaven or on earth?! Stand for so many hours - all night in one place without change, in one constantly inclined position - and not feel tired. To stand and not feel that you are standing, that there is something motionless, solid, unshakably stable under your feet; Doesn’t this mean: stand and not feel that you are standing on the ground?! And all around - light from many large, ruble candles, so closely arranged on huge candlesticks and burning with such a bright flame! And above all this is the flickering soft, gentle light of many beautiful lamps, now shining with such an extraordinary brilliance! You stand in the sphere of this extraordinary light, as if shrouded in a cloud of heavenly glory, you see this brightly blazing fire, burning and unquenchable, and your thought is transferred to the fireproof bush, and you hear, as it were, a voice rushing from there: “Ignite your boots: the place on which you stand is holy.” And indeed, you feel the undeniable closeness of the shrine. Here He is before you, near you, and not for one moment, not for one hour, but for many hours. And how long have I hopelessly dreamed of just getting closer to this holy place for a moment? Only an hour ago, when I stood at the bridge, in sight of the monastery fence, detained by guards, I thought of this place as distant, inaccessible, as lost to me for some time. And so - these obstacles, which then seemed insurmountable, I, as if in an instant, flew past, as if in a dream vision, and now I stand so close, close to the dear shrine. And you feel its fragrance, and greedily inhale it into yourself, wanting, as it were, to merge with your entire inner being with that holy world that suddenly appeared before you. And the opened expanse of imagination creates wondrous pictures of communication with this world, and the very heart expands and spreads to accommodate the endless joys of the new world that has presented itself. You look around and see that you are standing, as it were, in the center of a flaming light, which worries, trembles, trembles and, spreading into the distance, weakens, thins out and disappears, getting lost in the surrounding darkness of the night. And then this mysterious twilight parted, as if some invisible canopy was parting, and out came out, in an endless line, people of every age, every rank and condition. They emerge, approach, enter an area of ​​​​brightly glowing light. For a moment, for just one moment, everyone stands in this area - and they go on in their own way, moving away and getting lost again in the darkness that is spreading again before them on the other side... This line goes on and on - and there is no end to it... And you know that there will be no end to it, neither now, nor tomorrow, nor even the day after tomorrow. So it will go on in an endless series. And it seems that many of those who approached had been standing in chains since the morning, and some had not yet eaten anything. Having taken a place in a row, they no longer left it, but painfully and patiently waited in line, painfully slowly approaching the coveted place, measuring and shortening the distance by inches. And one remembers these, seen during the day, long, long rows of old men, old women, young people of every rank, dejected, bent, tired, leaning on crutches or on each other’s shoulders, but deep, concentrated in themselves, but apparently determined, patiently persistent, stubbornly achieving their goal. Each of them was busy in deep thought about the approaching great moment. And at the same time all these difficulties and bodily needs were forgotten - they seemed insignificant - so this moment seemed significantly important and great. And now he is getting closer and closer - the heart is filled with more and more joy and tremblingly beats in anticipation of imminent happiness. And a feeling of tenderness, a feeling of deep reverence embraces the whole soul. And along the entire length of these long rows one can hear here and there a prayerful whisper, secret sighs, and somewhere, as it were, a dull, barely restrained sob. “Reverend Father Seraphim, pray to God for us,” these words could be heard everywhere and at all times. “Father, Father Seraphim,” one woman cries; At the same time, he takes a deep breath, shakes his head convulsively, and tears stream from his eyes. Now everyone carries his own need in his soul in order to put it before the face of “Father”, “Father Seraphim” and find consolation and relief from him. Some have physical ailments, some have mental ailments, some have sorrow, cramped conditions, bewilderment - all this now relentlessly stands before everyone’s thoughts and feelings, waiting and seeking resolution. And the closer and closer to the holy place, the more persistent the thought of one’s unworthiness, one’s wretchedness, the sinfulness and misery of one’s nature, and the more the soul is imbued with tenderness and contrition, and the more strongly one feels the mercy and goodness of God that is constantly pouring out here. And then I see: these hopeful, reverent faces emerge from the twilight, with a tender soul and a contrite heart. Now they come closer and become enlightened. Eyes with pure faith and quiet hope are turned upward. The lips whisper a secret prayer. Finally they are at the tomb. A feeling of tenderness filled my entire heart. There is no longer the strength to restrain oneself from the new thoughts and feelings that come flooding in - and then a quiet sob, a muffled sob is heard. Finally, the long-awaited moment has arrived. Here He is, here is “Father”. Now he is so close that he can even be touched. All feelings have risen and have now reached their highest, so to speak, culminating point. Open your heart to him, tell him your grief, which you carried here hundreds and thousands of miles, patiently, silently, melting away from others! And just as during his lifetime he greeted everyone who came to him with open arms and the words: “Come to me, my joy,” so now he greets you with kind words: “Come to me, my joy, tell me all your grief, and I will console you!” And the moment of grace-filled illumination, the inner enlightenment of the believing soul, came. This moment is too short - one moment, but it was the moment of extracting a spark to kindle the light; The soul had been preparing for it for weeks, and especially intensively and intensely in the last days and in these last hours. And these agonizing expectations, this intense, concentrated activity of the soul were not in vain. This moment was like the moment of the birth of a new life. Sorrow here was transformed into joy, illnesses received healing or relief, passions subsided, restless thoughts subsided, and a contrite heart was consoled. In this brief moment, in the believing pious soul, from its direct contact with the heavenly world, a spark of heavenly fire was kindled, which at once illuminated the entire inner being, expelling from there all the darkness of passions and warming the heart with the warmth of divine love. Bring, bring this spark of heavenly fire! Take care and keep her! And one, another, the third leaves - calmed, enlightened. And others also approach in anticipation of consolation and blessed insight. And a welcoming, joyful voice is heard as if from the grave for everyone: “Come, come to me...” And here, at the lectern, in accordance with this, the voice of a priest is heard reading the Gospel: “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest... for My yoke is good and My burden is light...” And so all night. And so all night, until the very morning, I contemplated this wonderful, wondrous picture of the reverent approach and entry of a believing soul into a new, bright area, a picture of the mysterious communication of the soul with the new, heavenly world. In the morning at dawn I left the church to get some sleep. Getting up after a short sleep, I hastened to retire to the “town” to see there in all its glory the picture of the people’s farewell to the Emperor. And therefore I did not see how the Sovereign and Empresses, having arrived at the Assumption Cathedral (at 8:20 a.m.), listened here with deep reverence to the parting prayer service, and how, having venerated the holy relics, before the procession of the cross, they proceeded to the holy gates, where they received the last blessing of the primate of the Russian Church and from where they set off on their way. But I saw this endless crowd of people standing continuously from the monastery walls to the “town”, for three miles; but I saw this immeasurable, boundless mass of people standing in the “town” itself, occupying all the free places here, standing like a thick, dense wall. It was a beautiful, joyful morning. The sun shone cheerfully, welcomingly caressing the awakened life with its gentle rays. It seemed to correspond to the general mood that now gripped the entire people. Everyone had the same thoughts and feelings, everyone had the same expression on their face, an expression of happy expectation. For a long time everyone has been looking so intensely in one direction. And finally the slowly following royal carriages appeared. The continuous, thunderous “hurray” that flew out of thousands of mouths and jumped from place to place throughout this vast space terribly shook the air. In front of the far chapel the carriages stopped. Their Majesties came out and listened to the prayer service performed by His Eminence Innocent. At the end of the prayer service, the Bishop addressed the Sovereign with a short speech, in which he pointed out the great significance of the Tsar’s close communication with his people and concluded with the following words: “Blessed be Your departure, Sovereign, as joyful was Your coming to the holy monastery. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” Having graciously said goodbye to the archpastor, Their Majesties continued on their way to Diveevo. The Orthodox people saw them off with enthusiastic cries of “hurray,” blessings of love, and tears of joy. What a majestic and touching picture! The King is among His people! In this insignificant place, far from cities, centers of public life, in the depths of virgin, age-old forests! The Tsar of the great Russian land - He left His magnificent palaces, left the noisy capital to choose for Himself a modest room in the monastery chambers, to be surrounded, instead of a brilliant retinue, by a gray crowd of simple men! He, as it were, took off the signs of royal dignity and among the people shows Himself only as the highest honorary person among those like Himself. And during these three or four days, everyone somehow managed to get used to the idea of ​​​​the proximity and accessibility of the Tsar. But here is the last day, the last hours. The king leaves the monastery. Here He stands for the last time under the arches of this church, where during these days the soul has experienced so many beautiful, bright, sweet, happy minutes. His gaze is turned for the last time to the holy throne. And now, in his last prayer before the Lord, at the sight of this numerous people, imbued with a special consciousness of his high calling, did He, the King of the great kingdom, feel in his heart the need to say something similar to what Solomon once said: “Behold, I am Your servant - among Your people there is so many that in their multitude it is impossible to number them or to survey them; Grant therefore to Thy servant a heart of understanding, to judge Thy people and to discern what is good and what is evil; for who can govern this numerous people?” (1 Kings 3, 8, 9). And so, feeling the weight of His sacred duty, seeking support and reinforcement, He, the mighty Lord, reverently approached the shrine of the holy relics, kneeling before it. In his last conversation, He pours out before the new saint and prayer book all his cherished thoughts, all his innermost feelings and desires and asks so reverently, with faith and tenderness for their implementation and fulfillment... But what united the Tsar with the people and the people with each other so closely? The spirit of reverence for the saints, the spirit of Orthodox truth, the spirit of ancient piety, the spirit by which Holy Russia lives, by which Holy Rus' is strong and strong. This numerous gathering of people, this splendor of celebrations, everything that has happened here during these days - all this phenomenon is not accidental: it was brought into existence by the essential, fundamental primordial foundations of the historical life of the people. In him, the people's consciousness found its justification, and that is why such inexpressible joy gripped all Russian hearts. The Orthodox Russian spirit, with which Holy Rus' has lived and strengthened since ancient times, with which every Russian heart lives and breathes now, has found in this phenomenon the highest expression of its truth, a convincing confirmation of its truth. That’s why everyone’s faces glow with this victorious rejoicing. Drawn solely by this spirit, the Russian people gathered here, in one place, from all sides, in such a countless number. And this multiple gathering from everywhere of all representatives of the Russian people and the Russian spirit expresses a great significant moment in historical life. This is a general Russian gathering. This is a national Russian cathedral. Is this not the “cathedral” that well-known guardians of the people's welfare, heralds of new teachings and new orders have been talking about so intensely lately? While studying the phenomena of social life, how could they overlook this fact of such enormous importance? Now they are dreaming of convening a people’s “called Zemsky Sobor” in order to reorganize all public life in a new way. But here, in addition to all orders and convocations, on their own, drawn only by inner feeling, by the strength of spirit, prompted by the ripe time, this people gathered to express to each other their cherished thoughts, their innermost feelings. And here they saw each other come together “from the Caucasus to Altai, from the Amur to the Dnieper” and, shaking hands with each other, secretly agreed among themselves - to stand for the Orthodox faith, to stand for the Russian Tsar, to stand for everything native, for everything holy - Russian... Here there was, as it were, a new oath in the very face of the Tsar, here there was a new assurance in the truth of one’s faith, a new affirmation in the strength and immutability of the existing foundations of state life. This is how His Grace Innocent beautifully portrayed this picture in his farewell speech to the Emperor: “The Russian people, gathered for the great triumph of God’s mercy revealed in the Sarov monastery, experienced significant days of close communion with You. The Orthodox Tsar was on a pilgrimage with his people in the holy monastery. And the people saw how the Tsar-Father visited the holy places of Sarov on foot, how He carried on His shoulders the holy relics of the newly-minted Sarov Wonderworker; the people saw how the Tsar and Queens prayed with Him on their knees and with tears to the saint of God. He will now go to different parts of Holy Rus' and will enthusiastically tell in villages and hamlets what he has seen, and those who listen will be touched in their souls and bless in their hearts the names of their Sovereigns and Empresses who were on the people’s pilgrimage in Sarov.” And why should the cathedral meet now? He already was. He was called by the Lord Himself. In these sad days of fermentation of disorderly, alarming currents in state life, the Lord was pleased to gather in one place all the representatives of the Russian people, in order to unite all of Russia in their person for a new life according to the precepts of holy antiquity... But the people's rejoicing ended. The royal carriages disappeared from view. Everyone began to leave happy and joyful, making the sign of the cross, with the words: “Thank you, Lord! When should I see all this? And will I ever see you again?..” More healings. Possessed. The next day, July 21, at about three in the afternoon, on the monastery square, near the bell tower, I met a small crowd of people. In the middle of this crowd stood a mother woman with two children, a son and a daughter. She talked about their healing. The son, Misha, 16 years old, was deaf and mute from birth, but now - precisely, on the evening of the 19th - he began to speak and hear. Daughter Dunya, 14 years old, who became blind 6 weeks after birth, began to see while still approaching Sarov. I ask the boy: “What is your name?” He answers silently and so drawn out: “M-i-sh-a.” I ask: “What is my name?” He replies: “B-a-t-ya.” He spoke these and other words with noticeable effort - it is clear that the tongue still lazily obeys the will of the speaker. But the boy’s face was so triumphant and childishly self-satisfied, apparently interested in the fact that he was the subject of curious observation. I questioned my mother and wrote down the details of the actual incident in a book. Her name is Pelagia Timofeeva Grigorieva. She is a peasant of the Voronezh province, Zadonsk district, and the village of Vertyachaya. When I was writing, one man, decently dressed, came up to me and said: “Write, father, write! Write as much as possible!” Until now, I had made various notes in my notebook, without ever thinking of making them public. These same words echoed in my soul as an instruction from above, like the voice of the Venerable Seraphim himself, and in some way touched my conscience. It somehow became hard for me to feel that I was writing only for myself, when others think that I am writing for general fame, and realize that in this sense I need to write, and write as much as possible. “What do we see? And what events are we witnessing? – this man continues. “I was in Vienna, Berlin, Paris, I saw many, many different solemn processions and court ceremonies, I was at the coronation, but everything that I saw there is all overshadowed by what I saw here, what happened here these days.” There is no comparison. Everything is official there, everything is etiquette. Here everything is simple, natural, free, open and at the same time so magnificent and so indescribably solemn. The Tsar here behaved so simply and accessible to the people as never before anywhere, and the people, not restrained by any official demands, expressed their feelings towards the Tsar so freely, openly and naturally. How now, I think, do the enemies of Orthodoxy—schismatics, sectarians—feel?.. How do all these troublemakers feel? After all, they tried in every possible way to start some kind of rebellion here and wanted to take advantage of this crowded meeting to raise indignation over something... But Glory to God... The Lord did not allow evil intentions to occur...” The time for evening worship was approaching. The blind bell-ringer opened the bell tower. I asked permission to enter it and ascend to its very height. The bell tower of the Sarov Desert is one of the prominent attractions of the monastery and its best decoration. Despite its massiveness, it has a light, slender appearance, distinguished by a special elegance of style. From the top of this bell tower, rising up to 40 fathoms in height, a remarkably beautiful panorama opens up. Nearby is the entire desert, with its domes, golden domes and crosses, with various adjacent lands and monastery services, in the distance is all the forest and forest, the green sea stretching into infinity; here and there you can only see distant villages and hamlets, and in the north-west the huge cathedral of the Diveyevo Monastery looms white. In the evening I was again in the church and witnessed many healings. This evening was special: during it, until midnight, many sick and mostly demon-possessed women were brought to the holy relics. At the same time, I also had to show one or another participation. I often heard a voice: “Father, come to this woman, bless her, anoint her with oil.” At first it was somehow strange to hear such words. In fact, they believe in the effectiveness of the priestly blessing, they believe in the influence of demonic power on the human soul! After all, nowadays it is somehow customary not to believe in this; After all, this is somehow not reconciled with higher education. But this evening, as if on purpose, brought together all these demon-possessed women and around them all highly educated people in order to clearly convince the latter that, although it is difficult to reconcile or agree with the requirements of science, nothing else can explain the manifestations of this disease other than the presence of demonic power in the human soul. And I approached one or the other sick woman, with timid boldness I blessed her and anointed her with oil from the holy relics, which I took from the altar - and the sick woman, apparently, received relief, her attack stopped, and she was then led to venerate the holy relics, from where she returned completely healthy, glorifying God and the new saint, St. Seraphim. But there were some, so to speak, stubbornly possessed, with whom it was necessary to use a lot of effort to bring them to consciousness and give them relief; I remember two of them: Matrona and Pelagia. As I approached the cathedral at the beginning of the evening, I noticed a small group of people near the bench at the south door. I came closer - I saw a woman about 45 years old sitting on a bench and screaming strangely, but in her voice there were no those sharp, soul-rending sounds that usually characterize the cry of the possessed: she screamed so sadly, melancholy, with constant sobbing, as women scream in deep, inconsolable grief. I sat down next to her and asked her what she was shouting about. Her neighbor began to answer for her: “I, father, am from the village next to hers. I have known her for a long time and have never heard of her being unwell with this. When I came here, I followed her, and she and I walked together all the way. Nothing special happened to her on the way. Only, as she got closer to Sarov, melancholy began to noticeably open up with her, and from time to time she cried quietly and sighed all the time. And they came here - and there was nothing with her until that moment. Only now - she approached the holy relics, barely had time to venerate herself - when she screams so strangely, so scary that they brought her here, and now she won’t calm down.” I try to enter into conversation with the patient. I ask her if this has ever happened to her before. She replies that she has never screamed like that. I ask if she went to church for the service and if during the service she felt any changes in herself. She answered that she almost always went to services, but during the service she was overcome by sleep, she dozed, fell asleep and did not hear what they sang and read. – What do you feel now? – I asked. - It's sickening. Seraphim spoiled me... -What are you saying? He heals others, but he spoiled you! Let's go, you will venerate the holy relics and, God willing, you will receive relief. And at the same time, she moans heartbreakingly, sadly, screams, screams, as if no one and nothing in the world is able to console her, and from the outside it becomes so pathetic to look at her that you try with all your might to console her with something and somehow. I sign her with the sign of the cross, asking her to cross herself. She says: “I can’t.” I take her hand, with great difficulty fold my fingers to make the sign of the cross, and with her hand I make the sign of the cross over her. At first she resists, then little by little she begins to obediently obey my will. Next, I force her to repeat the words: “Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God...” She replies: “I can’t pronounce it.” I persistently pester her and finally achieve what she repeats with great effort. I say further: “Through the prayers of our venerable and God-bearing father Seraphim.” She stumbles again, gets to the word “Seraphim...” - and can’t say anything further. She so decisively and convincingly asserts that she cannot pronounce this word, and from the outside it is really clear that her tongue cannot turn at this word, it feels as if it fills her entire mouth and closes her throat, so that she is unable to make any sound. I continue to make her repeat after me, syllable by syllable: “Se-ra-fi-ma.” And little by little I reach the point where she finally, with incredible effort, repeats the entire word “Seraphim” and the entire beginning of the prayer. I further make her say: “cast out the unclean spirit from me.” At the last words, she suddenly screams in fear: “Look what you are! Look what you came up with! Oh, oh, I can't! No way, I won’t say anything! Get away from me! Don't pester me! Don’t torture me!..” But I persistently and imperiously continue to begin it. I make the sign of the cross over her and bring my pectoral cross to her lips to kiss; she tries so hard to pick up her lips so as not to touch the cross with them and finally screams frantically: “Get away from me, tormentor! Tormentor, tormentor, why are you torturing me? In the crowd that had gathered around us, there were some young students (high school students, realists) who, amazed at everything that was happening, apparently agreed to admit in this case the presence and action of demonic power. “Look,” they said, “why can’t she pronounce these words: “Seraphim”, “unclean spirit” - after all, she pronounces other words, but then suddenly she stumbles and doesn’t move?.. But she turns away from the cross... After long and special efforts, it was finally possible to force the patient to repeat, although with the greatest difficulty, the entire prayer. We, those around her, decided to take her to the holy relics. She entered the church without much resistance, but it took a lot of work to lead her to the holy relics. She began to scream, rush around, resist. But then she kissed, walked away, apparently calmed down, but soon screamed again. This happened again and again. I again sign her with the sign of the cross, again teach her prayer, she again resists, but I continue to act persistently and, forcing her to repeat the prayer, I bring her, along with others, again to the holy relics. Now she has less stubbornness, although she screams just as furiously. “I’ll come out, I’ll come out,” she shouts so strangely. Came up. She left on her own. I looked and began to pray myself. Then she wished to approach the holy relics herself, without outside help. And so she comes up and leaves, already as if completely healthy. She suddenly became so meek, humble and joyful. And her face was completely transformed, brightened, radiant. The eyes lit up with a new sparkle. So she comes up to me and bows at my feet, and then, standing up, folds her hands and says: “Bless you, father, thank you: now, thank God, I am healthy.” This act amazed both me and others around her. It was Matrona. The other was Pelagia. This is a different kind of patient. She didn’t scream, but she was in a strange fit for a long time. She was breathing incredibly fast, her chest was rising too high, or rather, heaving. There was some kind of constant beating or pushing from within her whole body. They beat her for half an hour, and two or three held her for half an hour. She was wearing several clothes and a thick quilted jacket on top. From rapid breathing and this strange beating, an extraordinary warmth developed in her body, causing such strong perspiration that all her clothes were positively wet, as if from heavy rain. Several times they brought her to the holy relics. Finally, she received relief, regained consciousness, and she herself approached the holy relics and walked away. And just like Matrona, she thanked me with a bow to the ground for my participation in her. The cries of some patients were strange. Here is one shouting: “I was with Sergius, I was with Tikhon, and now my end has come. Oh, I’ll come out, I’ll come out!” Another shouts: “I lived here for thirty years, it was good for me here, how can I leave now!” Others shout: “Oh, it’s hot! Oh, it's burning me! I'll leave! I’ll leave!” In a word, if we were to fully describe this entire evening under the first impression, then a whole treatise would be compiled on a scientific topic about the influence of demonic power on the human soul. For the fourth day now, without ceasing, people have been walking from the depths of the forest to the gates of the holy monastery, from the gates to the doors of the cathedral and to the shrine of the holy relics. The lucky ones, worthy to venerate the holy relics, satisfied and joyful, prepare to return home. But, although they are joyful and contented, their hearts are still looking for something else, as if their goal has not yet been fully achieved. They are looking for a lively conversation with some old man, hermit, or seer. And then they find in the depths of the forest, at a considerable distance from the monastery, one cell, in it an old man, a famous ascetic, a man of prayer (Fr. Anatoly). It is now that large crowds flock to him. What makes people look for these hermits? What draws him to them? Now new enlighteners are coming to the people: they are trying to bring them closer to themselves, to attract them to their side by all possible means. They talk about his needs, about how to come to his aid, they show themselves to be his benefactors. But the people do not trust themselves to them. There remains a corner in his heart that he hides from all these benefactors and which he does not want to open to them; there are questions in his soul that he conceals from these enlighteners, because he knows that they cannot give him a satisfactory, desired answer. After a day's work, our body needs rest, when an indispensable break from normal activities is required. So, after a series of everyday worries and anxieties, the soul sometimes demands to renounce the surrounding vanity, to renounce this world and leave, retire into the desert. Here a person feels freer. He is not bound here by ordinary everyday concerns; he then comes here to surrender here entirely to the heavenly attraction. But he also wants personal participation in his situation, he wants to say something, tell someone his grief, hear a word of consolation from someone. There are moments when a person feels an irresistible need to open his whole soul to another who could console him and caress him. And so he is looking for a well-known ascetic, an elder who has already experimentally achieved a certain degree of spiritual perfection, who has already gone through all the stages of temptation and therefore can help those who are tempted - he can entrust his soul to him, and this is the one who can treat him with sympathy. And so, one after another, a whole crowd goes to the “holy man”, looking for him in the thicket of the forest. And this hermit, who has withdrawn from the world for silence, for feats of prayer in deep solitude, cannot withstand the onslaught of the outside world rushing towards him again. And he opens his doors - and again the world is before him. But this is not the world full of malice and enmity that drove him away from himself, in which he was not tolerant - this is the world that came with sincere repentance and tears to seek reconciliation with the desert, which came in its best content, brought here its best aspirations in order to find justification for them here, the highest expression, the highest illumination - this is the world that itself moved away from the world, abandons itself, renounces itself, in order to find renewal, rebirth to life here in the desert. a new life, for here he sees his ideal in its best implementation and fulfillment on earth. No, it is not the food that the new enlighteners offer that the people crave. And in vain they promise him “to turn stones into bread”, in vain they talk about various miracles of science that can elevate his life and preserve him on all his paths and, attracting him to their side, in vain they promise him all the blessings and pleasures of this world. He firmly believes that “man will not live on bread alone,” he firmly hopes in His Lord, “The Lord is our refuge and strength,” he says, “we trust in Him: with Him in the caves it was light and spacious, with Him in the desert it was fun and joyful - in Him is our happiness and joy, our soul trusts in Him, we serve Him alone. “Those who are poor and hungry are rich, but those who seek the Lord will not be deprived of any good.” So, the people are thirsting for the wrong kind of food, which is offered to them by their new enlighteners who do not know them, or do not want to know them. And that is why he comes here to the desert, to a secluded monastery, because there at home he does not find complete satisfaction of his thirst. And at the sight of this large crowd gathering around the monasteries and standing in silence before the door of the old hermit, impatiently awaiting his exit, the words of the Savior are involuntarily recalled: the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few (Matthew 9:37). Finally the old man came out; walked through the crowd to the table and began to talk. His words are so simple and understandable to everyone, and so sink into the soul. In them one can hear the deep experience of the lofty Christian soul, the genuine simplicity and sincerity of a reverent heart. He talks about how convenient and easy it is to be saved: My yoke is easy and my burden is light (Matthew 11:30). You can be saved for one penny, as the gospel widow found favor in the eyes of the Lord for one mite... You can be saved for one drop or one glass of water, as the Lord said: whoever gives one of these little ones to drink only a cup of cold water... will not lose his reward (Matthew 10:42)... You can be saved in one breath, in one short prayer, as the publican and the thief were saved... And let not your sins confuse you to the point of despondency and despair... There is no limit to God’s mercy... The Lord changes His already spoken definition to the repentant Ninevites, to the pleading Hezekiah... So, with faith, hope and love, go to Your Lord: He will always receive you, for He said: He who comes to Me will not be cast out (John 6:37).” Everyone standing listens with deep attention, trying not to utter a single word. Sighs are heard, tears are visible, and a mysterious connection suddenly established between the speaker and the listeners is felt. The elder speaks about those truths that he learned not only from books, but from his own experience. This is felt by everyone, and that is why there is such special trust on the part of everyone. So everyone comes into the same mood and everyone is aware and feels like one. Therefore, a word addressed to everyone is recognized by everyone as addressed specifically to him. And everyone thinks: he’s talking about me. And he, the old man, by the way, speaks to everyone and speaks most of all about himself. From his words it is clear how much he thought about life, how he himself struggled with various doubts and temptations, how his soul grieved and ached, sometimes melting away in an overwhelming struggle with evil spirits. And that is why everyone feels that the elder is talking about him, because the elder reminds him of what everyone once experienced and felt in himself in part. And this search for the true path, and this desire to be saved, and these temptations, falls - all this, at the words of the elder, rises in memory, and you feel that the elder evokes this memory, as if foreseeing your entire inner being. But then he ended the conversation. Now they approach him one by one to receive a picture or piece of paper from him as a blessing and to personally receive the necessary advice or instruction from him. “Father, I am sick”... “I am grieving for my children”... “My husband is a drunkard”... “I have lost my job”... “We are broke, we have lost all our property”... “I have no place to live in the family”... “I want to marry off my daughter”... “I want to enter a monastery”... “I want to engage in trade”... The right people turn to the elder with such diverse and varied questions. Everyone wants to express their grief to him and hear a few words from him to relieve the grief. The elder looks at the questioner with a penetrating gaze, under the influence of which sometimes awe seizes the soul, and says two or three words that are understandable only to him and to the questioner - and these words will remain memorable for the latter for the rest of his life... Farewell to Sarov. Holy night. Close to evening we went for the last time to the Assumption Cathedral. Now the rest of the people were approaching. They stood freely in the cathedral. The police no longer pressed, giving everyone who remained the opportunity to approach the holy relics slowly, decorously, reverently and then stand at the coffin, listening with due attention to the prayer service. I served a prayer service for the last time. I approached the holy relics for the last time. He walked away and stood for a minute in front of the coffin to say a few farewell prayer words - here, near the coffin. Oh, I will never forget these last minutes! How suddenly it became a pity to leave! And here I remembered all the spiritual joys with which my heart was filled during these days, all those mercies and spiritual gifts that poured out here in an abundant stream. Will I have to be here again soon? But what happened, what I saw, will no longer happen, I will never see it again, it cannot happen again. Evening has come. The last rays of the setting sun caressed the upper parts of the buildings of the holy monastery. These rays were our last. Tomorrow the sun will not rise here for us. And I would like to say: stop, sun, and don’t move, moon! There is still something left untested, unexplored from that new area that has just opened and is now moving away again. You feel that you are now stepping over the threshold, again outside, into the street, into the conditions of everyday life, and you are leaving that house where it was so easy for your soul, where there was another world, where earthly paradise... It was necessary to find a coachman. We headed over the bridge, along the Diveyevo road, where the coachmen were located, and hired four and one drivers on a meager horse, on a poor, or rather, wretched cart. There is no time for convenience here: everyone had little money left for the trip. When we were negotiating with the coachman, I heard quiet singing near one of the fires. I come closer. I see two or three women sitting, they are dressed in black, from everything I see: these are rural cell attendants - “blueberry women”. When I approached, they stopped singing, as if embarrassed. Hello, father! Bless us! Well, well, sing,” I told them. “I hear you sing well.” And you, father, will you sing along? otherwise we don’t dare. “Okay... I will,” and then I heard pleasant, gentle Little Russian voices. Here it is, I think, southern, Ukrainian poetry! How these Little Russian voices and Little Russian singing are able to enchant the listener, excite the heart, filling it with a special poetic feeling and taking it to that mysterious land where life is still so young and so innocently virgin! Once upon a time this life was around us, but the new trend gradually left the stamp of some oppressive severity and rudeness... Now I see the limit of death... Oh, woe, great woe to me... So from beginning to end we sang this cant, familiar to me since childhood. “Father, read us an akathist!” - after this the girls began to ask me. But I didn’t have a canon with me at that time, and they didn’t have one either. And how, indeed, it would be nice, and how I would like to read the akathist! And how I wanted to listen and listen to this wonderful singing, I could listen to it all night. But my companions are urging me to urgently go to the “town” and get ready for the journey. Oh, Russian, holy soul! This is what you live and breathe! You yearn for one salvation. Your secret aspirations are always towards heaven, there are your holy thoughts, there are your pure feelings! Glory, glory to God in the highest! I strive for that palace Where is my sweetest groom... So that I can live forever with Christ, For Him I mourn, I suffer, These and other similar songs are sung by the Orthodox people in hours of spiritual entertainment; with such thoughts and feelings they feed their souls in the silence of solitude. O Orthodox people! We don’t know half of your inner, secret life. And what a great sin are your new teachers and leaders taking upon themselves, trying to tear you away from your cherished thoughts and aspirations and infecting your holy kindness with the corrupting spirit of new teachings, arrogant, impudent, ungodly! A full month rose from behind the tops of centuries-old trees. The stars poured out frequent and bright lights across the endless vault of blue skies. There was a mysterious silence that preceded the beginning of a charming summer night. Everything in deep silence seems to be listening to some mystery that is happening somewhere here, around, in the surrounding nature. And in the midst of this silence, these pleasant voices were heard again, this enchanting singing was heard again. This was the last delightful night in a series of other holy Sarov nights. O holy nights! How many different people have you seen, how many shed tears have you collected, how many secret prayers and holy words have you heard, how many sighs and cries have you hidden within yourself! You were witnesses of a great world life! O holy nights, never forget you!.. It was a beautiful morning. The soft, gentle, invigorating rays of the rising sun pierced through the luxuriant, resting body, enveloped in sweet slumber, after former unrest, and again awakened to life the forgotten soul, wholly surrendered to sweet dreams after everything that had been experienced, saying: “You are still sleeping, but everything around you has already woken up, again everything is rejoicing, triumphant and welcoming the holiday of life that has come again.” And you sleep and don’t sleep under the influence of these rays, under the charm of this morning. “Here comes Diveev,” I heard through this dream. These words made me stand up. I stood up, opened my eyes and saw the entire Diveyevo Monastery in front of me in all its glory. Bathed in the golden rays of the morning sun, it was indescribably beautiful, and the magnificent cathedral stood regally over the entire surrounding area. When we arrived at the monastery, it was seven o’clock. Our driver promised to stop here for two or three hours, and so we had to quickly inspect everything here. What first of all attracts attention in Diveyevo is the cathedral. So huge, vast and, by the way, so light and airy. The style here has reached the highest degree of artistry and expressiveness in execution, the implementation of the idea of ​​​​giving the earthly church the character of a heavenly one, in an effort, through a certain combination of finite lines and forms that limit space, to lift, elevate the spirit of a person to boundless heights, and through the connection into a beautiful symmetry of external outlines to excite to the contemplation of infinite, heavenly beauty. This is felt most strongly when you stand inside the church. Contemplating his inner beauty and seeing this lightness of lines, airiness of forms and outlines, you feel how the soul, as if involuntarily, rises and ascends to heavenly heights. I have seen the cathedrals of St. Petersburg, Moscow, Kyiv, but in front of them the Diveyevo Cathedral is something special, different. The Cathedral of Christ the Savior is immeasurably large in comparison and, despite its massiveness, one can also notice the bold scope of lightness and airiness, but for all that, stone and granite are still felt there, and this is not felt in the Diveyevo Cathedral; there - in the Cathedral of Christ the Savior - at the height - the vastness of heavenly space, below - the overwhelming enormity of the building, in which a person somehow gets lost, imagines himself so small, here - in the Diveyevo Cathedral - a person stands and involuntarily feels how everything lifts him, excites him, elevates him; he seems to be growing noticeably here. At this time I was not in the cathedral for long. But a year later I stood there at the solemn service of the all-night vigil on the feast of the Exaltation of the Precious Cross of the Lord. And so in my mind the first and last impressions merged into one. I heard this beautiful, harmonious singing, I saw, contemplated this interior of the church, decorated with wonderful paintings, this interior of the church, especially magnificent in the full brilliance of the evening light, and came into natural delight and tenderness. But most of all my gaze was riveted to the mountainous place. There is a cross there, with the Crucified Lord on it. The cross is very large in size and beautifully painted. It is slightly separated from the wall, on the wall there is a wonderful image of that great moment when the earth shook, and the stones were broken, and the tombs were opened, and many departed saints arose. Thus, both the cross and the wall painting represent one picture with a relief outline in the foreground. During the polyeleos and so on until the end of the service, the Crucifixion is illuminated by a lamp with a reflector hidden behind the iconostasis, but the entire altar, illuminated only by the lamps of the seven-branched lamp, remains in semi-darkness. This makes, one might say, an amazing impression. Before the gaze of the one praying, this terrible picture of the death of the God-Man, abandoned by everyone, raised to the cross by the sons of men, vividly arises - and it was necessary for the dead to rise from their graves in order to admonish those living on earth and tell them: “Remember what you are doing!” The main shrine of the cathedral is the icon of the Mother of God “Tenderness”, before which Father Seraphim always prayed and died on his knees; it is decorated with an expensive frame with precious stones and is arranged in a beautiful icon case near the left column of the main chapel. And now, like St. Seraphim once did, those present pray before her with special tenderness and contrition of heart. When you look at this expensive icon, you are involuntarily carried away by your thoughts to the time when it once stood in the cell of a poor old man. How many hot, burning tears were shed by this old man, how many deep, heartfelt sighs flew out of his withered chest, how many prayerful words, fiery cries burst out from his weary soul before this holy icon! And after that, how many Orthodox souls looked with hope and tenderness at this most pure image, seeking and finding here joy, peace and consolation! From the cathedral we headed along the ditch to the Transfiguration Church. Along the way we stopped at a chapel on the site of a former “mill-feeder”. Here they showed us the millstones from this mill and gave us some flour produced by a hand mill standing in the corner. They say that during the opening of the holy relics of St. Seraphim there were many cases of healing of the sick after eating flour; Particularly striking were the cases of healing of the deaf and dumb. In the Transfiguration Church there is all the treasure of Diveyevo. The altar of this church was built entirely indestructibly from the distant hermitage of Father Seraphim, transferred here from Sarov. In the right corner of the altar-cell there are icons and a lamp of St. Seraphim, a chair, a stump, a stone and part of a tree that blocked the women’s path to the desert. Here the hidden life of the holy elder took place, filled with extraordinary feats of fasting, vigil, and prayer. Here there were blessed insights, wondrous visions of an enthusiastic soul. Here the sky bowed down and, embracing the flesh-bearing man flaming in prayer, enlightened him, penetrated through his entire being and made him light, comfortable in the air. In the middle of the church there is a display case with the things of St. Seraphim. Here are: stole, rosary, cassock, cap, half-robe, fur coat, boots, bast shoes, mittens, axe, stool and much more. All this arouses deep reverence for the memory of St. Seraphim and leads to many reflections about his life, full of voluntary labors and hardships. “Here are his bast shoes,” it was he himself, the breadwinner, who worked and wove them; but his clothes - all in patches - he himself, father, paid for. Here are the mittens, the hatchet – he worked and worked and worked.” This is what simple pilgrims say to each other with emotion. From the Church of the Transfiguration we entered the nearby hermitage, also entirely transported from Sarov. The Monk Seraphim spent 15 years in seclusion in this cell. Here his great exploits took place, leading him to final exhaustion and exhaustion. Here the Mother of God appeared to him with Saints Clement of Rome and Peter of Alexandria (November 25, 1825) and ordered him to come out of seclusion. And now here you can feel some special fragrance, a breath of grace-filled silence, as if within these walls the same air remained, filled with heavenly sweetness, which the holy soul of the humble, wretched old man and great man of prayer breathed. Transparent twilight, the ray of the lamp, the ark and the cross, the symbol of the saint... Everything is full of peace and joy Around you and above you. Somehow these words involuntarily come to mind when you stand in this cell, immersed in the contemplation of the surrounding mystery. From the nearby hermitage, I went into the painting building for a minute and was convinced with my own eyes how widely the painting business was organized in this monastery. They send orders here from all over Russia, and for some time now they have not even been accepted, because those accepted have to be fulfilled, after a large accumulation, not earlier than a year later. The icons in action are all of St. Seraphim. Their painting is special. The warm, heartfelt love of the entire monastery and each nun individually for “Father”, Father Seraphim, is conveyed and communicated in the artistic depiction of his face. Here, down to the smallest detail, everything is done with true reverence for “Father.” The nuns are so deeply immersed in their work that they not only do not pay attention to those who come, but even remain silent, or, as can be seen, are reluctant to answer certain questions from the curious. Leaving the picturesque building, I headed to the house of Pasha the Holy Fool. There were a lot of people crowding around the house, who were waiting for the holy fool to come out, to look at her and listen: maybe she would say something. No one was allowed inside the house. I was allowed to enter as a priest. I entered. In the cell I met another priest from the Don region, whom I had met on the way to Sarov. I greeted blessed Pasha with a bow. She looked at me with an extraordinary, piercing gaze that I was embarrassed, and said to me, either asking or assuring: “What, they buried it?” These words struck me. I looked around in bewilderment. Father and others tell me: “Someone among you will die soon.” I admit, what worried me most of all was the thought: “What if now, in my absence, someone dies?” And my heart, naturally, sank with pain... But who is this Pasha? She is already very old, but quite plump, wearing only a shirt. It looks like a simple, stupid thing. At this time, she was sitting at the table and treating my father and mother, who had arrived before me, to tea, then silently offered me a glass. I will not go into detail about what else she said - some of the hints and allegories were clear to me. After tea, she went to her prayer room, where we followed. There, in the middle of the room, there is a large Crucifix against the wall, with large icons everywhere on the sides. After praying, we venerated the Crucifixion. When I said goodbye, I wanted to kiss Pasha’s hand. She pulled it back indignantly, tore off her handkerchief and threw it on the ground, and said: “You yourself will have the relics.” Exactly a year later, our family suffered a great misfortune: our son drowned in the river... And then I remembered the look and all the words of Pasha, and I understood and understood their meaning and meaning... Upon leaving Pasha the Holy Fool, I went to the cell of nun Alexandra, the founder of the Diveyevo monastery, and to her grave, where I celebrated a memorial service. The nuns all firmly believe that the discovery of the relics of St. Alexandra will soon take place. From here I was in the cell of Pelagia Ivanovna, the holy fool, where I also served a memorial service. Here they show the chain with which the blessed one was chained; here in the display case are her dress, part of her hair, and her nails. Blessed Pelagia endured much suffering and torment for her foolishness. And she, like Mother Alexandra, is considered a saint. In both of these cells there is a special fragrance. After all this, I went for a short time to the Kazan Church, which is remarkable in that the upper floor is considered a parish, and the lower floor is considered a monastery. The nuns are convinced that soon the entire church will become the full property of the monastery. And about the lower church, the Monk Seraphim said: “You have four pillars there, these will be your four relics.” With this I finished my quick review of the Diveyevo Monastery and left the holy monastery with a feeling of some dissatisfaction. But sending her my last, farewell greetings, I consoled myself with the thought that, perhaps, I would soon see her again and then I would be completely satisfied with her glory and beauty. It’s wonderful, everything in Diveyevo is complete, everything breathes with the memory of St. Seraphim. And if in Sarov, apparently resting, the Monk Seraphim abides as if with his body, here, in Diveyevo, his spirit is - and this is in everything and everywhere. “Father”... “Father”... – is constantly heard here. These words contain strength, life and all the hope of the monastery. And the nuns here have a special look. Their face reflects a kind of joyful calm, a bright, shining expression of inner peace and contentment, and as if traces of struggle, anxiety, and fear for their position are invisible. Something confidently triumphant, victorious, and jubilant shines in their eyes. For some reason, the sight of these virgin ascetics takes my imagination back to the first times of Christianity. There rises before me the bright face of virgins, pure, innocent, saints... The legend is still fresh. Even those who were eyewitnesses of everything that happened “in those days” are still alive, and everything is still full of memories of “those days.” All this excites, elevates, inspires the spirit of the holy virgins and strengthens them, confirming them with undoubted hope in their hope. The betrothed brides of Christ - they represent, as it were, a host of flesh-bearing angels, rejoicing, celebrating victory on earth in the hope of a blessed life with Christ, in anticipation of union with His Beloved, Beautiful, Sweetest Bridegroom... The virgins of the Diveyevo monastery also represent something similar. The legend about “Father” is still fresh, even those who remember him are alive. And stories about him are constantly passed on from mouth to mouth throughout the monastery. That is why these virgins look so joyful and triumphant. They feel a force guiding them. They have protection, a comforter, they all have a “Father” who said: “My joy, don’t be afraid of anything, no one can offend you, and whoever offends will always be punished.” And heavy doubt and despondency, if they exist in the soul, are only temporary. Wherever you look, you will see a reminder of “Father,” and the burden will fall from your soul, and you will immediately receive consolation, and immediately joy and hope will illuminate your soul. But there is one especially sacred place in the monastery, a place for quenching all sorrow and sorrow - this is a ditch that was dug by the sisters of the monastery, with the blessing and order of St. Seraphim, around the land originally donated for the monastery. The chronicle of the Diveyevo Monastery says that the Monk Seraphim repeatedly told Archpriest Vasily Sadovsky and the elder nuns that this ditch is “the foot of the Mother of God,” “the path where the Queen of Heaven passed, taking the monastery as her inheritance.” “And like the Antichrist,” he said, “he will come and pass everywhere, but will not jump over this ditch; when the century ends, first the Antichrist will begin to remove the crosses from the churches and destroy the monasteries, and he will destroy all the monasteries, but he will come to yours, will come, and the groove will become from earth to heaven, he cannot ascend to you, the groove will not allow him anywhere, so he will go away.” The Monk Seraphim himself began to dig this ditch. This is how it is said in the chronicle. For a long time, the sisters did not carry out Father Seraphim’s orders to dig a ditch and did not start digging. One day one of them went out of her cell into the cellar at night and saw: Father Seraphim in his white robe himself began to dig a ditch, and a candle stood and burned near him. In fright, and at the same time in joy, she runs into the cell and says to all the sisters; Everyone ran to that place in indescribable joy and, seeing “Father”, fell straight at his feet, but when they got up, they no longer found him, only a shovel and a hoe lay in front of them on the dug up earth - it had already been dug a yard deep. Here all the sisters already made an effort, and since the Monk Seraphim was in a great hurry to dig a ditch, even in the fierce winter, chopping the earth with axes, all with their own hands, as he ordered, the sisters dug out this holy ditch commanded to them, and as soon as they finished digging, the Monk Seraphim soon died, as if he had only been waiting for this. About the meaning of the groove, the Monk Seraphim said: “Whoever goes through this groove with prayer and reads one and a half hundred Mother of God, everything is here: Athos, Jerusalem, and Kiev!” That is why everyone reveres the ditch so much and considers it a sacred duty to walk along it, especially in grief, misfortune, or illness; and some go through it once, others three times in a row, trying to read “Rejoice to the Virgin Mary” 150 times. They tear up grass for memory, as well as for healing (mainly for sick cattle). During the celebrations of the opening of the holy relics of St. Seraphim here, on the canal, there were many miracles - healings of the sick. “Go and read “Rejoice to the Virgin Mary” 150 times - and you will receive consolation, as if you were in Kyiv, Jerusalem, or Athos.” It’s as if something incomprehensible and even scary is heard in these words, but in fact they have great meaning. To walk along the path where the Heavenly Most Pure, Most Holy Virgin walked, to follow in Her footsteps means to enter the sphere of heavenly glory, to feel under the direct protection of the Heavenly Lady. To walk along this path, read the angelic greeting: “Rejoice, Full of Grace” and imagine that she, the Most Honest Cherub, here, before you, hears your greeting and responds to you with merciful attention and Her love - isn’t this enough for all sorrow to be quenched here and the heart to be filled with all joy? And what a consolation for all the nuns of the monastery in the promise of St. Seraphim that the Antichrist, who will one day enslave the whole world, will not be able to cross this ditch! Diveyevo is a special destiny, the lot of the Mother of God - what could be more comforting than this thought? And the whole life of the Diveyevo nuns therefore bears a special imprint. The entire order of life, strictly observed by the holy monastery, was bequeathed to Father Seraphim, and in this case Father is the constant and faithful leader of everyone. Every nun, no matter what she does, knows that she is doing as “Father” ordered and orders. When a year later I was in Diveyevo and stood in the altar of the Cathedral, I saw on one wall, behind the frame, a sheet on which was written: “The rules commanded by Father Seraphim for his Diveyevo monastery.” I read these rules with extraordinary interest, and I was especially interested in the final signature of the recently deceased Mother Superior Maria. 1) Before the liturgy, sing the paraklis of the Mother of God every Sunday, without omission; “If they do this holyly, then no troubles will befall the monastery, but if they leave it, then they will make trouble without trouble,” Father ordered. 2) In the lower Church of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary, day and night, constantly read the unquenchable psalter: “she will forever nourish the monastery,” said Father. 3) The church positions of sexton and sexton and choir members should be performed by the sisters of the monastery themselves, but only by girls, in the same way with all the superior positions of obedience. 4) Sisters should never live alone; in the same way, they should not remain alone during worship, nor should they go out or go anywhere alone. 5) Everyone must partake unapologetically on all holy fasts, and, if desired, on all the twelve feasts, without harming themselves with slander of thoughts - not partake because they are unworthy, but wholly, without reasoning and philosophizing, surrendering themselves to the will of the all-forgiving grace of God. 6) In the lower Nativity Church, in front of the local image of the Savior, a candle should constantly burn unquenchably, and in front of the church icon of the same church of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary, an unquenchable lamp should burn forever. Getting out of bed, in the morning read: morning prayers, 1 time “Worthy”, 3 times “Virgin Mother of God, rejoice”, 1 time Creed, 2 times “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner”, 1 time “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on us sinners”, 2 times “Lord Jesus Christ, with the Lady Virgin Mary Theotokos, have mercy on us sinners”, 12 times “Lord Jesus Christ, our God, have mercy on us”, 12 times “My Lady, Most Holy Theotokos, save us sinners” - all this in the cells - Before the meal mentally read: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.” - Then in the evening - the rule in church: 12 selected psalms, a memorial, a teaching, 100 times “Lord Jesus Christ, our God, have mercy on us,” with bows from the waist, 100 times “My Lady, the Most Holy Theotokos, save us sinners,” with bows from the waist, and Father’s rule, the above-mentioned (morning). The conciliar akathist, according to the commandment of Father Seraphim, is not obligatory for everyone, but only for those who can, so as not to impose an unnecessary burden of sin on the weak. Then, until nightfall, mentally read: “My Lady, Most Holy Theotokos, save me,” and when going to bed, read prayers for sleep to those who are coming and Father’s prayer (morning prayer), each in his own cell. 8) Batyushkin’s commandment: never be without work and deeds, during which you constantly mentally say the Jesus Prayer. Sisters who work or are engaged in obedience would not be embarrassed and would not be embarrassed, but straight, having gotten up from sleep and having eaten, they would go about their labors, mentally saying a prayer and mentally reading Father’s rule. Having conveyed everything commanded by Father Seraphim, and based on his words, the elders and I, Archpriest Vasily, personally said: “After me, you will not have another father in Diveyevo,” I entrust you to the Queen of Heaven; She herself will teach you everything and she herself will be your abbess, but the abbess will only be an economist, since the Queen of Heaven took you as her inheritance with Athos. Everything written here is according to the commandment of Father Fr. Seraphim, personally heard from his lips, is indeed, to which, testifying, I subscribe to the Seraphim-Diveevsky Monastery, Archpriest Vasily Sadovsky. Since my arrival at the monastery in 1844, I have found everything in the order as written bequeathed by Father Fr. Seraphim, and has been exactly fulfilled to this day, to which the abbess of the Seraphim-Diveyevo Monastery, Abbess Maria, subscribes. So this is what explains, I thought when I read these rules, many of the features in the life of the Diveyevo monastery! This is where the guarantee of true salvation lies! All life, both private and public, is determined in detail by the rules of St. Seraphim. And what wise rules (for example, never be alone, always be at work, constantly practice mental prayer...)! And these rules are sacredly observed by everyone. The abbess herself oversees their exact and indispensable execution: she takes over the management of the holy monastery from her predecessor in the order in which it should be according to the will of Father Seraphim, and, over time, must hand over the monastery to her viceroy inviolably in the same order. Just as property, which must be sacredly preserved, is accepted and transferred according to the inventory, so here the external and internal order of life, which must always be unchanged, the same, is accepted and transferred in the same way according to the inventory, with the indispensable obligation to monitor its safety. So that’s why everything in Diveevo is full, everything breathes with the memory of St. Seraphim, that’s why his spirit noticeably, visibly and constantly dwells there! And it is natural to assume that nowhere else, after Sarov, were the days of the discovery of the relics of St. Seraphim celebrated so brightly, so especially joyfully and solemnly, as in Diveyevo. Concluding my memories of the Sarov celebrations, I would like, albeit briefly, to present a description of the Diveyevo celebrations, especially since these celebrations, it seems, have not yet been noted in the press, and by the way, they constitute some kind of addition to the Sarov celebrations. This description was compiled according to a letter from an eyewitness to them and the main participant in them, the local priest, Fr. Petra Sokolova. (Excerpts from this letter are surrounded by the usual quotation marks.) The day the celebrations began, both in Sarov and in Diveevo, was July 16. In the evening (at 4 o'clock) of this day, deputations from twenty cities and villages from the societies of banner bearers with banners gathered in Diveyevo, and at their request, a solemn requiem service for St. Seraphim was served in front of the cathedral, and then a prayer service at which the banners were consecrated. A prayer service and memorial service were served by Father Archimandrite Sergius (the dean of the monasteries) with several priests. After the prayer service, a religious procession was made to the cemetery Church of the Transfiguration, the altar in which was built from the cell of St. Seraphim (near hermitage). Here, near the church, a memorial service was served, the banner bearers sang. From here the procession headed along a ditch, where two people were healed: a possessed woman and a deaf-mute girl of nine years old, who began to hear and speak the words spoken by her mother. The next day at three o'clock in the morning a wonderful procession of the cross departed from the Diveyevo Monastery to the Sarov Monastery; it extended for two miles; he was accompanied by Nizhny Novgorod Archimandrite Sergius, with 15 priests and deacons. The clergy led by Fr. The archimandrite walked the entire distance from Diveevo to Sarov (14 versts) on foot in vestments, including two priests and one deacon of the Diveevo monastery. Banner bearers who came from different cities of Russia joined the procession in the Diveyevo monastery itself. The Ponetaevsky religious procession joined in the village of Balykovo, 10 versts from Diveevo, where a prayer service to the Mother of God was held. Also participating in the religious procession were the nuns of the Zelenogorsk monastery of the Nizhny Novgorod district, who came to Diveev in advance. The religious procession went in two rows in the following order: in front were the banner bearers with 60 banners, then from the village of Balykova - the nuns of the Ponetaevsky Monastery with banners and the miraculous icon of the Sign of the Mother of God, and finally, the Diveyevo nuns with banners. The Diveyevo nuns were followed by priests and deacons in vestments. Behind them the Diveyevo nuns carried the highly raised miraculous icon of the Mother of God “Tenderness”, before which the Monk Seraphim prayed and died. Fr. walked behind the icon. Archimandrite Sergius with the singing nuns and novices of the Diveyevo and then Ponetaevsky monasteries. “Solemn, wonderful, touching to the depths of the soul, this extraordinary and boundless procession was, especially when leaving the Diveyevo Monastery, in the extraordinary silence and darkness of the early morning, illuminated by numerous lanterns and candles, and with the majestic bell ringing. It was especially touching when, after the procession left Diveevo, the soldiers who were in tents not far from Diveevo began to play the folk anthem “How Glorious is Our Lord in Zion”... They played this hymn 50 fathoms before the approach of the procession and 100 fathoms accompanied it with their music. Half a mile before Sarov, this majestic religious procession was met by the Sarov procession and, joining with it after a prayer service before the icon of the Mother of God “Tenderness,” majestically, solemnly entered the fence of the Sarov monastery.” On the 17th and 18th, funeral all-night vigils were celebrated by a council of priests. On the 17th, all day long and on the 18th until the all-night vigil, with short breaks, memorial services were held in two churches (in the winter Cathedral and in the Cemetery) and in the cell of St. Seraphim (the distant hermitage), which is near the Cemetery Church; funeral services were performed by both local and visiting priests, at their request and at the request of the people. Although on July 17 most of the foreign people left for Sarov with the religious procession, but despite all this, a countless mass of people remained in Diveevo again. His mood was inexpressibly reverent. On the 19th, local and visiting priests celebrated a solemn, festive all-night vigil for St. Seraphim (one archpriest and four priests). During the litia, there was a departure from the church with icons and banners and a walk around the church, and lithium prayers were performed on each side of the church with a stop in the procession. After the all-night vigil, a prayer service was served at the cathedral to St. Seraphim. After some break, precisely at 10 o’clock at night, both the nuns and outside pilgrims gathered again - and went with a religious procession along the ditch; The religious procession ended at midnight. During it they sang: paraklisis of the Mother of God, troparia to the Mother of God and St. Seraphim. Having reached the Church of the Transfiguration, they stopped in front of its western doors and sang a prayer service to St. Seraphim; then there was the sign of the cross. On July 19, the same council of priests celebrated a solemn liturgy, with a very large crowd of people. During the liturgy, at the appointed time, a heartfelt word was said by Saratov Archpriest Vladykin about the occasion for which everyone had gathered here from different countries of Russia, as well as about the life and exploits of St. Seraphim. At the end of the liturgy, the cathedral served a prayer service to St. Seraphim and a procession of the cross took place around the church and along the ditch. On July 22, the Right Reverend Nazarius consecrated the chapel (left) in the cathedral (summer) in honor of St. Seraphim; This chapel was built in 1875, but with the purpose of not consecrating it until the relics of St. Seraphim were revealed. Even at that time, the faith in the holiness of Father Seraphim in the Diveyevo Monastery was so deep and firm - and this faith was not disgraced. “On the 17th, 18th and especially on the 19th and further there were many obvious, amazing miracles: many sick people were healed, especially the deaf and dumb, after eating flour in the chapel at the millstone of St. Seraphim, as well as in the Cemetery Church, where the altar was built from the cell of St. Seraphim, on the groove and at the icon of the Mother of God “Tenderness.” Glory to the Lord God, marvelous in His saints!” Here is a description of the Diveyevo celebrations from the words of an eyewitness and the main participant in them. Brief description. But even this brief description is enough to convince us of how unparalleledly majestic these celebrations were and what inexpressibly touching pictures of general religious enthusiasm there were. Particularly remarkable in this regard are the pictures of religious processions: from Diveevo to Sarov and along the ditch. What can you imagine more beautiful, more majestic and more touching than these paintings? What great, significant moments the Orthodox people experienced during these days in Sarov and Diveyevo! A great mystery was taking place there! There an abundant, inexhaustible source of new life, new thoughts and feelings, new joys and pleasures opened up. Everything there attracted me to a new, hitherto unknown world. And this world was so close and tangibly accessible to everyone, a simple believer and a directly feeling heart. All the brothers were there, from the Tsar and the nobleman to the last villager. The rich and the poor, the noble and the wretched - still called out to the New Pleasant, everyone equally sought His help and protection and felt equally poor and pitiful before Him. Here all differences in external advantage and position, differences in dialects, nationalities, classes, and titles were forgotten and smoothed out. And in all this one could feel the longing of the human soul into the heavenly, upper world. It was as if suddenly a small gap opened over our poor, gloomy land, through which the edge of a distant, beautiful sky appeared. And so they rushed here, to this place, to this clearing from all sides, exhausted by the vanity of life, yearning for heaven, thirsting for light and space, suffering souls. And everyone wanted to see, at least a little, the edge of this sky and at least partly enjoy its beauty and thereby sweeten the bitterness of their lives. And it was all so light and spacious, so fun and joyful, so sweet and light. The proximity of the sky showed that everything here was extraordinary. Here life went completely outside the range of ordinary conditions. Here the nature of the statute was apparently defeated. So! Here the blind saw, the deaf heard, the dumb spoke, the paralytic stood up, the lame walked. No, you need to be a great artist of words, you need to have the free flight of a high poetic soul in order to adequately portray this whole picture of the religious life of the people, as it unfolded and was revealed in all its beauty, in all its completeness in the events of the Sarov celebration. If this picture were depicted fully and artistically, in accordance with reality, then a wonderful poem of people's life, a poem of the people's religious spirit, would be composed. Where are you, the great writers and thinkers of our days? How many deep thoughts you would gain here! How many wonderful subjects would you find, grateful topics for your work! How many unexpected discoveries would be witnessed here! But you are not interested in this area. You seem to be afraid to look into a person’s soul when it rises to heavenly heights - and, on the contrary, with visible pleasure you reveal all its nakedness when it wallows in the abyss of vice. “Divinity of the soul”... “heavenly calling”... - all these are old words. Nowadays the more accepted expressions are: “a man-beast”, “a superman who boldly trampled, boldly smashed everything sacred - this is the ideal of the future”... “And no one is to blame for anything, for we are all equally brutes.” This is how a now favorite writer (M. Gorky) concludes one story (“In the Steppe”). This final thought can equally be placed at the end of any of his stories, as well as at the end of the stories of other writers of the new direction. Science is diligently trying to prove that man is only a higher animal that has achieved true perfection in progressive development according to the laws of evolution over the space of many centuries or millennia. Following science, literature, depicting the actions and activities of man and unfolding before us in full and detail his entire external and internal life, tries to prove with some effect that “all people are brutes.” And whoever comes closest in this case to nature, trying to bring out all the animal instincts of man, is considered a “prophet.” It becomes creepy to read these stories. Terribly creepy (for example, “Three” by M. Gorky). And you think: is life really like this? Is there really only one way out of this life - to go ahead and trample, break, and distort everything along the way, sparing nothing, sparing nothing, in order to create your own happiness? There are people who teach to do the will of God, to love all people, and that this is the essence and meaning of life. “This is all nonsense! - this is what one hero says in M. Gorky’s story “Makar Chudra”. “Live as best you can, live to the full extent of your nature.” “Live to the full extent of your nature” - this is the sermon of today’s writers. And is life really such that it cannot produce better types, better pictures and models for stories? Is there really no better side to it, no better area?.. But if you came to Sarov, you would see here another life, perhaps little familiar, but the kind that alone lives humanity, without which there is no life in life itself. And how much food there was for the observant mind! The psychology of the crowd, the psychology of personal feeling, the delight of the believing heart, the splendor of the splendor of celebrations - what wonderful themes these are for beautiful, artistic pictures of a great historical life! There was something to think about here, there was something to analyze. And after that - the remarkable stubborn indifference on the part of some of the press to this great historical phenomenon! Some periodicals (for example, “Russian Vedomosti”, “Courier”, “Nature and People”) did not say a word about the Sarov celebrations. This is also significant in its own way. A fire that occurs in any part or street of a city is reported publicly throughout Russia, but not a word is said about a fire that engulfed the entire country from edge to edge. If such a popular movement, such a rise in the religious spirit were seen in a schism or in some sect... oh, then everyone would trumpet the trumpet, they would begin to spread about the meaning of religion in human life, they would solemnly prove that every faith has its own share of truth! But Orthodoxy is something old, obsolete, and moreover, it is some kind of brake in the historical movement of the people along the path to progress, and therefore how can one testify to its triumph? Isn't it better to remain silent? But this silence is reminiscent of the silence of the scribes to the question of Jesus Christ: “Where did the Baptism of John come from, from heaven or from men?” They reasoned: if we say “from heaven,” then He will tell us: why didn’t you believe? And if we say: from men, we are afraid of the people; for everyone reveres John as a prophet (Matthew 21:25–26). It was about eleven o'clock in the morning when we left Diveyevo. At two o'clock we arrived in the village of Glukhovo. There was a rest here, from here to Arzamas about forty miles. At four o'clock we set off further. We traveled in a long, long convoy, a cart of thirty. And what a boring ride it was! We drive a mile or two - suddenly some cart ahead stops, the whole convoy stops: it waits for five, ten or more minutes. And how painful it is to be on the road for fourteen hours and in this position: neither sit nor lie down! At six o'clock in the morning we finally arrived in Arzamas. The passenger train (regular train) was supposed to arrive at about ten or eleven. It's a long, tedious wait. And so I decided to take the first pilgrim train that arrived: there was still movement, variety. The pilgrimage trains were made from freight cars, where the seats were made of simple boards installed along the walls and across the cars. These carriages, although not particularly clean, were more spacious than ordinary passenger trains. Here you could sit and lie down. The only annoying thing was the long stops at the stations. Here I was close to the people so that I could see their inner life, feel their mood. ...When I was traveling to Sarov, there were a lot of people in the carriage. At one time and in one place the carriage suddenly became crowded with working people. And then I heard reckless songs, desperate playing of the harmonica and all sorts of nasty words. It was real hell. Sitting in the corner, I had to hide behind the backs of others so as not to be blatantly ridiculed or impudently ridiculed. And this is in a third class carriage. We drove several miles - this disorderly crowd finally subsided, and the songs and swearing could no longer be heard, but the soul-rending sounds continued to ring in our ears for a long time. And now I see: the car is just as full of people, but there is no noise, no loud conversation, no jokes, not even laughter. Everyone sits with serious, calm faces, everyone is immersed in deep thought, everyone is focused on something, as if keeping something deep in their soul. And another picture comes to mind: Maundy Thursday. Late evening. The service of the Passion of Christ has departed. The people leave the church slowly, slowly. Everyone carries a candle in their hand, and carries it so carefully, trying not to let it go out. Everyone wants to bring this fire, kindled in the church during the reading of the “passion,” to their home. And it seems that now everyone in their souls also carries the flame that was kindled in the Sarov monastery, they carry it so carefully, fearing that it might be extinguished. That’s why everyone is so internally focused and avoids unnecessary conversations, much less jokes: he still cannot and does not want to tear his thoughts away from what he witnessed. And he wants to bring this light, not extinguished, to his home. Bring, bring the Orthodox people, this divine flame to all ends, to all the remote regions of your vast fatherland, and may a new bright, holy life kindle from it! I too submit to the general mood. And so, one after another, one more beautiful than the other, pictures of the recent past pass before my imagination. Here's the first night. A beautiful, bright night. The sky is covered with thousands of stars and looks so tenderly and at the same time in surprise at the wonderful pictures of the earth. And it seems strange to him how countless stars (candle lights) suddenly lit up on this earth. They all burn with the same even, calm, wonderful light; and for a long time, until deep midnight, they burn and flicker. And the sky thinks: were it not his stars that were miraculously reflected on the earth? But no, it knows its stars: it sees its stars reflected in the depths of the river - and recognizes them. But how could they be reflected along the river bank, along the edge of the forest, in the thicket and in its very depths? And the sky descends lower - and is even more surprised, hearing a wonderful, incessant singing, either from the banks of the river, or from the depths of the forest. Isn't it angelic? Is this singing - isn’t it Seraphim’s silent voice? And the pure, holy sky descended to the very earth, and here it saw what kind of stars of the earth they were, what kind of singing of earthly angels. And the earth at that time was pure and holy, like the sky itself. And then heaven and earth merged in a brotherly kiss, then the stars of the earth mixed with the stars of heaven, and the angelic heavenly singing and the singing of the earth merged into one common hum... And a wonderful harmony reigned... And in this brotherly kiss, in this mutual greeting, the sky showered the earth with all its gifts, and likewise the earth gave all that it had the best... Here I remember the Sarov ringing. The ringing of small bells begins. The desired, silvery sounds are heard. The ringing gets stronger and stronger, and finally the last blow is heard - on the largest bell. The most powerful, the most powerful sound was heard. This blow shook the entire area. The small and medium-sized bells seemed to be frightened and began to emit some kind of trembling, pleasantly trembling sounds. This blow was the last in the sequential selection of all the bells, but it did not stop the ringing - on the contrary, it gave it a new move, a new system, put its soul into it. Now, without waiting for the previous turn, he began to repeat himself evenly, over and over again, thus establishing a kind of beat, listening to which, the small and medium bells vied with each other, but in an order consistent with each other, each playing and repeating its own melody. And the ringing gets louder and louder, everything gets stronger, everything becomes more powerful. The sounds of a large bell, escaping from the blow of a heavy tongue, cut through the air with thunder, powerfully shaking, and rush in a wide wave over the surrounding hills and valleys; behind them and in front of them, the sounds of other bells rush in a lighter wave. And so, catching up wave after wave, the joyful roar of the Sarov ringing rushed into the unknown distance, dominating everything and subjugating everything wherever it reached. Everything listens to him. And the heart, carried away by these waves, participates in their common life: then, enthusiastic, it rises and rushes after them to the endless heights, stands out and asks to follow them into the unknown, boundless distance; then, calm, with bated breath, it stops in its impulses and - as if freezes; then suddenly, as if from an intense shock, everything will tremble and tremble. The ringing ended - and its waves rushed off, one after another, dying away in the distance, but they did not disappear without a trace: new sounds remained in the hearts of people, new feelings evoked by them, and these sounds and these feelings will beat and resound inside them for a long, long time... The train stopped. Call. Last station. The thread of memories was interrupted. This gray, boring reality opened up again. And that world, full of bright dreams, full of wonderful dreams, moved far, far away... The soul was caught up in heaven and saw the indescribable heavenly beauty there, heard wonderful songs there, and felt the sweetness of the holy fragrance there. She did not enjoy it for long, and again she was like an exile, among the deplorable vale of the sinful earth. But for a long time in the world she will languish, “full of wonderful desires.” Years will pass, and many years, and the sounds of heaven will still live and be heard in the soul, and nothing can drown them out. And all these “boring songs of the earth” can no longer replace them. Priest Vasily Tigers. Memories of the Sarov celebrations. Tambov, Typical lithography of the Provincial Government, 1906.