Глава II. Призван к духовному деланию

At the Finnish department. 1905–1917 The revolutionary year 1905 also marked a turning point in the fate of Bishop Sergius. At a meeting on October 6, 1905, the Synod decided: “... to be the Archbishop of Finland and Vyborg to the Most Reverend Sergius of Yamburg.” True, evil tongues said that Bishop Sergius with this appointment crossed the path of Bishop Tikhon (Belavin) of America. Back in March 1905, the Synod elected him to this department. However, the support and intrigues of V.K. Sabler did their job and Tikhon was left in America, although he was awarded the archbishopric. The conflict between the interdependence of these two hierarchs was repeated in 1907. Then Sergius (Stragorodsky) was already “wooed” to America to the North American See instead of Archbishop Tikhon (Belavin), who was transferred to Russia to the Yaroslavl See. Sergius himself did not object, but he did not have to go to America, and for 12 years, like no one else for a long time, he remained at the Finnish Department. On October 15, Sergius surrendered his position to Archimandrite Sergius (Tikhomirov), the former rector of the St. Petersburg Theological Seminary. The farewell of Archbishop Sergius from the walls of the academy went unnoticed, since the academy was closed and the students went home until the beginning of December. Only the official “Church Bulletin” responded with an article about the appointment of Sergius to a new position, noting that “the departing leaves behind the brightest memory,” and wishing him “successful continuation of service for the benefit of the Orthodox Church.” The diocese entrusted to the rule of Sergius was still very young. It was established as an independent organization only in 1892. The flock, consisting of Russians and Finns, numbered about sixty thousand people. There were three monasteries with 600 monastics, 86 churches and 90 chapels. Under them, a little over three dozen libraries, almshouses, and parish trustees were established. Sergius was quite well informed about the affairs of the diocese, for already from April 1905, in connection with the transfer of the then Archbishop of Finland Nikolai (Nalimov) to Tver, he temporarily ruled it. Everyone remembered the word spoken by Bishop Sergius at the prayer service in the Assumption Cathedral in Helsingfors on the occasion of the publication on August 15 of the manifesto on the convening of the State Duma. It expressed the hope that “the reform announced by the government will lead the Russian people to good and prosperity,” and it was shared by the majority of those present both in the church and outside it. Although it should be recognized that “success” was presented to various social groups in a very special way. As for the Finnish flock, for example, the majority of them expected the expansion of freedoms and the strengthening of Finland’s independence from Russia. In the summer of 1905, a general diocesan congress took place in Valaam, which was very unusual in its composition, for not only the highest representatives of the Finnish clergy gathered, but also priests, deacons, psalm-readers and everyone who could and wanted to be at this congress. There were also teachers from Orthodox parish schools and individual laypeople who wished to appear. As a result, more than a hundred people gathered. The most important diocesan issues were considered: about the organization of the internal mission; on the preparation of psalmists; about courses for teachers; about singing courses; on the publication of liturgical and church literature in Finnish. It was decided from now on to hold such congresses annually. Having become the official head of the diocese, Sergius in a short time toured all his parishes, getting acquainted with their needs and problems, preaching and teaching the clergy and parishioners. In the Assumption Cathedral of Helsingfors, Sergius delivered sermons during each of his services. The position of the diocese, to the management of which Sergius was called, was very, very different from the internal, Russian dioceses proper. Finland, although it was a conquered territory, remained a special Grand Duchy, independent in its internal affairs. The highest legislative body was the Sejm, which consisted of four chambers, each of them was formed from representatives of a certain class: noble, burgher, peasant, clergy. The central body of government was the Senate. It consisted of two departments: one was in charge of administrative affairs, and the second was the highest judicial authority. The ruler of Finland (Grand Duke) was the Russian Emperor. His permanent representative in the Grand Duchy was the Governor-General, who was the chairman of both houses of the Senate. At the end of the 19th century, the Russification line became stronger in the national policy of Russia - the desire to Russify the national outskirts of the empire, which at different periods were annexed to the metropolis either by kindness or by force of arms. In relation to Finland, this resulted in a limitation of its autonomous status. The desire for “denationalization of the outskirts” was a distinctive feature of the authorities not only secular, but also ecclesiastical. The latter, through church preaching, spiritual education and literature, sought to support this movement. In this regard, let us mention the work of A. A. Bronzov, professor of moral theology at the St. Petersburg Theological Academy, “Is Patriotism Reprehensible?” 25. According to the author, the Russification line is that type of patriotic activity that should be characteristic of all Russians, without exception. To characterize imperial policy, both foreign and domestic, the theologian introduced such concepts as “defensive,” “retention,” “restorative,” and “conquering” patriotism 26 . By “retaining patriotism” was meant such love for the fatherland, which consists in the desire at all costs to preserve in the power of one’s fatherland everything that was previously conquered by it and currently constitutes its property. In addition to this reasoning, the thesis about the “right of a strong people” to keep conquered peoples in obedience, even against their will, was attached. In the words of Bronzov, it looks like this: “In everyday life, guardians are often appointed either over young children left behind by their parents and without outside help, unable to manage the property left to them by their parents, or generally lead their lives in a normal way, or over adults, but weak-minded or even insane... Analogous relations are sometimes required to address certain peoples on the part of others. It is impossible to give freedom to some of the nations conquered by a known people, either because, using freedom, they would only introduce disorder, unrest and discord into their internal life and lead themselves to destruction, or because they would not allow their neighbors to live in peace, but would constantly disturb them with attacks, commit “violence and murder”, etc. (such, for example, are the Poles, known for their insane antics in the past, such and the Finns, in the person of their quasi-intellectual part, display the most impossibly wild morals and instincts, characteristic only of the insane and weak-minded)” 27. In all such cases, the Russian Orthodox Church saw “absolutely nothing bad” in those actions that constituted “retaining patriotism.” The conquered peoples were left with only one possibility of existence, which consisted in merging with the conqueror, in which there could no longer be any talk of their liberation. In exchange for this, they promise “humane treatment of conquered nations, subject to their complete submission.” For the state Orthodox Church, these kinds of ideas and behavior were justified by the fact that they created a favorable situation for expanding missionary activity in the territory of the Grand Duchy of Finland, intensifying the fight with all available measures against “sectarians” and “sectarian societies” 28 . This became one of the main concerns for Sergius Stragorodsky in his new field. In relation to the Karelian population, it was transformed into opposition, as they said then, to “Pan-Finnish expansion and Protestant-sectarian propaganda.” They meant a widespread movement among the Finnish intelligentsia for the annexation of Karelia to Finland, which was mainly based on the fact that the Karelians by their origin were one of the Finnish peoples. It was believed that justice should prevail and they should reunite with the Finnish people. In Orthodox circles, the movement was perceived as a unique form of Protestant missionary campaign to Karelia. In contrast to this, every effort was made to “strengthen Orthodoxy” among the Karelians. In 1906 and 1907, two congresses of representatives of the Arkhangelsk and Finnish Orthodox dioceses were convened. In September 1907, a congress of Russian leaders was held in Kemi, at which measures to counter Pan-Finnish propaganda, which allegedly threatened White Sea Karelia, were discussed. At the same time, the diocesan Orthodox Karelian brotherhood in the name of St. George the Victorious and its charter were established. The Brotherhood set as its task the strengthening of Orthodoxy among the Karelians of the Arkhangelsk, Olonets and Finnish dioceses. To do this, it had to publish appropriate literature, promote a more solemn performance of worship, take care of the splendor of churches and develop charity among the needy population. The brotherhood was opened by Archbishop Sergius in the village of Vidlitsy on November 26, 1907. In order to raise the Christian level of the Finnish Orthodox flock, Archbishop Sergius ordered the parish clergy to establish catechetical courses in their churches to teach the younger generation the basics of Orthodoxy. Since many Orthodox Christians could not visit churches due to their distance from populated areas, it was recommended to designate collection points in their parishes for both children and adults and periodically go there to conduct and perform divine services and even liturgy on portable antimensions. The Archbishop himself set an example of this, systematically and religiously visiting Orthodox parishes. At the initiative of Sergius, the Synod approved a special provision for Orthodox parishes, guardianships and brotherhoods in Finland. Sergius paid a lot of attention to parish schools, always visiting them during his tours of the diocese. Of course, as a hierarch of the state church, the archbishop could not do without contacts with the official authorities in Finland. To a greater extent, he had to communicate with Governor General F.A. Zane, appointed in 1909. It was under him, the “devourer of Finland,” that the process of ousting the “Finns” from the central governing bodies of Finland was completed, and Russian control of the principality was established, which remained unchanged until 1917. Finland was roughly and harshly subordinated to a national system of government and legislation. The situation was so difficult that many prominent political and public figures in Finland no longer believed in the very possibility of preserving a free Finland 29 . When the opportunity presented itself, Sergius had to ask just such a political figure for the “protection” of Orthodox believers from the “threat” of Pan-Finnish propaganda. A special response in society was caused by the appeal of Archbishop Sergius in November 1909, when he reminded the Governor-General that, according to the Treaty of Friedrichsham, Russia ceded to Finland what did not belong to it, namely Karelia and the Karelian Orthodox people living there. Sergius asked to protect the Karelians from their forced Finnishization. In the Finnish press, Sergius's speech was regarded as a call for a holy war. The non-Russian part of the flock, who lived on the territory of the diocese, asked to speed up the translation of Orthodox services not only into Finnish, but also into Swedish, the language they spoke. And this was due to the fact that the Karelians, especially the older generation, although they were attached to Orthodox worship, did not understand much about it. There are many Russian words in the Karelian language, but mostly of everyday use. In the field of higher religious and moral concepts, these Russian words could be counted on one hand. Of course, for a simple soul, one “Lord, have mercy!”, one mention of the Mother of God and St. Nicholas the Wonderworker is enough: a simple soul will already be close to God. But this is the “coal miner’s faith”, a very touching and very enviable fate, but it is possible only at the lowest levels of cultural development. Karelians, more or less educated, with awakened inquisitiveness, could no longer be content with such crumbs from the church meal. They wanted more and looked for places where services were held in a language they understood, primarily Finnish. The Slavic service is becoming more and more incomprehensible, especially for young people who received their primary education in Finnish folk schools. There were also clashes in parishes where two groups demanded constant services in either Finnish or Russian. Based on this and in order not to completely lose the flock, Sergius blessed during the service to always read the Gospel in two languages, to speak the sermon in Finnish, and everything else in Slavonic, with the recitation of some litanies and other prayers, at the discretion of the priest, in Finnish. In order to better organize church life in the diocese and to have an assistant during his long absence on the affairs of the Synod, Sergius called to him Archimandrite Cyprian (Shnitnikov). Cyprian graduated from the St. Petersburg Theological Academy as the first student and was retained as a professor's fellow, but preferred missionary work to professorship and entered the service of Bishop Sergius. After a while, already in March 1913, he was consecrated Bishop of Vyborg. Unfortunately, Cyprian died very early. In the summer of 1914, Sergius took his last breath and performed the funeral service himself in the Annunciation Church on Vasilyevsky Island. With the outbreak of the First World War, the struggle between supporters of various political parties noticeably intensified in Finnish society. Part of Finnish society hoped that by demonstrating loyalty to Russia it would be possible to return autonomous rights, and therefore advocated support for the Russian administration in Finland. Another part spoke in favor of a greater orientation towards England and France, hoping that in post-war conditions such a position would have the most favorable effect on Finland’s relations with Western countries. But there was a group of politicians and their supporters who believed that it was during war that the most optimal conditions were created for the complete separation of Finland from Russia. It should be recognized that such sentiments, anti-Russian in nature, were widespread. They could be expressed in different ways: in passive disobedience, demonstrative indifference, rejection and non-participation in any actions and events organized by the Russian administration. Evidence of this behavior can be considered, for example, the indifference with which the population of Helsingfors reacted to the visit of Emperor Nicholas II to their city on February 25, 1915. If the local authorities, led by Governor General Zein, the ruling bishop and other authorities, demonstrated their loyal feelings by organizing meetings with guards of honor, solemn prayer services, and sending delegations from various segments of the population, then the Finnish population behaved differently. As the witness of this event V.F. writes in his memoirs. Dzhunkovsky, “the streets were full of people, but what a difference there was in the character and mood of this crowd of people compared to the Russian one. This crowd met the Tsar - their Grand Duke in silent calm and immobility" 30. There were also those in this environment who were not content with passively expressing anti-Russian sentiments and called for active action against the Russian administration, for example, as was typical for numerous student circles, for organizing an armed uprising and unilateral secession from Russia. The reality of the armed uprising was also evidenced by the command of the Northern Front, which led military operations and military forces on the territory of Finland. In his reports from 1915–1916 one could read: “In Finland, under the guise of calm and loyalty, an armed uprising is being prepared with the aim of separating it from Russia with the help of Germany.” Reforms in the Russian Church at the beginning of the 20th century The biography of Sergius Stragorodsky is inseparable from the history of the Russian Orthodox Church of the first half of the 20th century; sometimes they inexplicably followed each other, almost intertwining. And if on October 15, 1905, he passed the affairs of the academy, then on October 17, in a special manifesto, the emperor charged the government with the obligation to “grant to the population the unshakable foundations of civil freedom on the basis of actual inviolability of the individual, freedom of conscience, speech, assembly and unions.” The manifesto had an impact on the reform of Russian society in at least three directions: it initiated the revision of legislative acts regulating the socio-political and national-state structure of Russia; became the legal basis for the formation of legal political parties and the beginning of the transformation of state-church relations. One of the primary tasks after the publication of the manifesto was the need to develop a new electoral law, to introduce amendments and additions to the legislative acts that determine the composition, procedure for formation and powers of the State Duma and the State Council and their subordination. This work was entrusted to a special commission (Special Meeting) formed on October 28, chaired by a member of the State Council, Count D. Solsky. From November 1905 to January 1906, it held ten meetings, at which the issue of attracting an “elected element” from the most “stable in views and directions of the population” to the State Council was especially vigorously discussed. It is quite natural that the conversation turned to the clergy. The majority of the commission members supported the idea of ​​including representatives from the Orthodox Church in the State Council. Very few people expressed a different opinion. In particular, the famous lawyer, member of the State Council N. S. Tagantsev believed that in resolving this issue one should proceed from the “state” and not the “politicking” point of view. The diversity of religions inherent in the peoples of Russia required taking into account their interests and ensuring representation in the highest authorities. The draft laws prepared by the Solsky commission in February 1906 were submitted for final discussion at a Special Meeting in Tsarskoe Selo chaired by Nicholas II. From the memoirs of N. S. Tagantsev it is clear that when the conversation began about the representation of the clergy, those present - ministers, members of the State Council and other high dignitaries - were unanimous. The thought did not even arise that, along with the representation of the state church, there could exist, at least in the most minimal form, the representation of other religions and churches recognized by the Basic Laws of the Russian Empire. Thus, the interests of those millions of Russian citizens who, according to the laws (Articles 66, 67), “enjoyed freedom of faith” were not taken into account, not to mention ignoring the interests of “schismatics” and “sectarians” who were “intolerant” by the state. As a result, it was decided to admit only representatives of the Russian Church to the State Council: three from the black clergy and three from the white clergy. At the same time, during these same months, work was carried out in the strictest secrecy on a new edition of the Basic Laws of the Russian Empire. The initial draft was prepared by the State Chancellery. It was a compilation of various European constitutions and provided for fairly broad powers for the legislative chambers. It also contained such an innovation as a special chapter “On the rights of Russian subjects.” Among the rights mentioned in it was the right to freedom of conscience and religion. Special articles proclaimed equality before the law of all subjects, regardless of origin and religion; equalized the rights of subjects, both those who professed the dominant religion and “foreigners.” At the end of February 1906, the project was submitted to the Council of Ministers. It is curious that Witte advised comparing this text with the constitutions of Prussia, Austria, and Japan in order to borrow “useful conservative elements” from there. And indeed, the chancellery draft, discussed in March, has undergone such significant changes that we can talk about the birth of, in fact, a second draft of laws - a ministerial one. It was of a purely “restrictive” nature, questioned the appropriateness of including a chapter “On the Rights of Subjects” and rejected any “expansion” of the rights of subjects. In a memorial specially prepared and signed by members of the Council of Ministers addressed to Nicholas II, it was proposed: “... in order to closely harmonize the rules on the fundamental rights and obligations of Russian subjects with the modern living conditions of our state, to exclude from the subject chapter some articles that do not meet this goal and supplement it with a special article confirming freedom of conscience on the basis of Your Majesty’s decree of April 17, 1905 on strengthening religious tolerance.” On March 20, 1906, S. Yu. Witte presented the tsar with a draft of the Basic Laws amended by the Council of Ministers, along with a ministerial memorial. The Chairman of the Council of Ministers himself proposed the main article on religious freedom in the following wording: “Russian citizens enjoy freedom of religion according to the dictates of their conscience. The conditions for transition from one religion and creed to another are determined by law.” On April 7, Nicholas II appointed a third secret meeting in Tsarskoe Selo to discuss both projects. It lasted for several days. Grand dukes, ministers, several members of the State Council and other high officials were invited. A number of participants in previous meetings who demonstrated their liberal position were not invited. Two positions emerged among the meeting participants. One, as stated by I. L. Goremykin, was to deny the need to include a chapter on the rights of subjects in the Fundamental Laws. Supporters of the other, for example D.M. Solsky, S.Yu. Witte, defended the inclusion, albeit with different motivations, of this chapter. However, there was no full discussion of the contents of the second chapter. The majority of those present did not even think about the “return” of the articles “on rights” withdrawn by the Council of Ministers. The chapter of the Basic Laws of the Russian Empire “On Faith” was also not subject to discussion. On the eve of the opening of the meetings of the First State Duma, Nicholas II was presented with the final version, executed on his instructions by a small group of people from his inner circle. It was approved by the emperor on April 23, four days before the opening of the Duma meetings. The chapter “On Faith,” which defined the relationship between the state and the Orthodox Church and ensured its special position and privileges, remained unchanged, with only minor editorial amendments. In the chapter “On the Rights and Obligations of Russian Subjects,” only one article (81st) was preserved, which dealt with issues of faith and read: “Russian subjects enjoy freedom of faith. The conditions for the enjoyment of this freedom are determined by law.” However, this article, without clearly and specifically developed legislation, was doomed to remain just a declaration, in no way guaranteeing the rights of citizens in choosing a religion. The development of bills on specific areas of religious legislation was entrusted to the Ministry of Internal Affairs. As we see, the state, even during the revolution, continued to focus on maintaining special relations with the Russian Orthodox Church and sought to rely on it during a period of political instability. It was not intended to introduce any fundamental changes either to religious policy in general or to the position of all other religious associations. At the same time, Russian society, one might say, having for the first time received the opportunity to publicly discuss religious issues, was predisposed to more radical steps. Periodical party, public and private publications were filled with articles on these topics. In them, the possibility of carrying out religious reforms was strictly linked to political transformations in the country. The historical motto of the last centuries of Russian power has come under particular fire of criticism: “Orthodoxy. Autocracy. Nationality,” which represented “all the horror of the old, obsolete danger.” In the magazine “Moscow Weekly”, where many authors who sympathized with the Cadet views were published, this was stated as follows: “...Orthodoxy, a religious code, the external inviolability of which is protected by the secular head of the church with the help of the police and gendarmes. With the help of autocracy, this motto was expressed in the fact that all peoples of other faiths and even heterodox peoples were subject to restrictions on their rights, which were abolished immediately as soon as a given person outwardly assumed an Orthodox guise. Thanks to this, no one could voluntarily leave Orthodoxy, Orthodoxy itself acquired unworthy hypocrites as new sons of the church, and the entire religious life of the people was delayed in its development.” The political parties that were rapidly emerging in 1905–1906, in their program documents and on the pages of the party press, recorded the unresolved “religious issue”, the presence of “constraints” and “lack of freedom” in matters of faith, and offered their vision of resolving this issue. Depending on the political goals they set for themselves, we can divide them into three groups. The first includes those who advocated the preservation of an absolute monarchy in Russia, the second those who advocated a constitutional monarchy, and the third those who advocated a democratic republic. Most parties advocated the equality of citizens, regardless of their religious or class affiliation, and for freedom of conscience and religion. Quite widespread was the demand for confiscation or redemption of monastic and church lands, which reflected the prevailing mood among the peasantry. Only a small part of the parties, oriented towards the preservation of autocracy in Russia, advocated the inviolability of the union between the Orthodox Church and the state, the preservation of all its rights, privileges and primacy for the church. The parties' program provisions on issues of freedom of conscience were basically oriented towards changes in the church policy of the state: the rejection of the traditional union with the Orthodox Church, equalization of the rights of all religions and their equal relations with the state. In general, they fit into the bourgeois model of religious state policy. More radical demands - the separation of church from state and school from church - were included in the programs of socialist parties. They were joined by parties: radical, moderate-progressive, freethinkers. During the elections to the State Duma, all parties that nominated their candidates promised to immediately resolve the issue of freedom of religion. They all made public their proposals and programs on this issue, thereby trying to attract voters. For example, in the section on the fundamental rights of citizens of the Cadet program, one of the popular parties at that time, it was said: "1. All Russian citizens, without distinction of gender, religion or nationality, are equal before the law. All class differences and all restrictions on the personal and property rights of Poles, Jews and all other individual groups of the population without exception must be abolished. 2. Every citizen is guaranteed freedom of conscience and religion. No persecution is allowed for professed beliefs and convictions, for change or renunciation of religious doctrine. The performance of religious and liturgical rites and the dissemination of religious teachings is free, unless the actions performed thereby involve any general offenses provided for by criminal laws. The Orthodox Church and other confessions must be freed from state tutelage.” On April 27, 1906, meetings of the first Duma in Russian history opened. Among its 499 members, 18 represented the Russian Church - 16 priests and two bishops. Already on May 12, representatives of the cadet faction introduced a bill on freedom of conscience for discussion. This was the first party document proposed as a bill. In the Explanatory Note to the bill, the party leaders convincingly argued that both in the past and in the present, Russia has lived and lives “under a regime of unfreedom of conscience.” The attempts of the tsarist government in the previous few years to eliminate the most intolerable “constraints” and “restrictions” from religious and church life and to put into practice the provisions of the decree of April 17 and the manifesto of October 17, 1905 did not bring a positive result. Therefore, for the people’s representatives, a matter of paramount importance should be the struggle to ensure the principle of freedom of conscience in the life of Russian society. According to the Cadets, the law should be adopted as a kind of manifesto on freedom of conscience, defining the principles of state church policy, and only then, on its basis, consider and adopt laws regulating certain specific practical aspects of the activities of religious organizations of various faiths. But there was another position. The Ministry of Internal Affairs, which was entrusted by the government with carrying out reforms in religious matters, did not see the need to issue a general law on freedom of conscience, but intended to consider bills on certain specific aspects of religious legislation. At first glance, such pragmatism might seem preferable. However, in fact, it was disastrous for any attempts to reform outdated legislation and overcome administrative practice, since it did not have a clear, understandable and accepted by everyone (state and society) goal. It is no coincidence that the state did not want a conceptual discussion of the meaning, principles and goals of the proposed religious reforms, since in this case the opposite vectors of intentions of the state and democratic society would immediately become obvious. The government, with all its promises to expand and affirm freedom of conscience, in fact tried with all its might to maintain the status quo in state-church relations, to abandon only the most odious remnants of religious legislation. The content of the term “freedom of conscience” was still reduced exclusively to “religious tolerance,” that is, to the preservation of the state church and patronage of it, with the promise of some softening of the policy towards other religious associations. A completely different content was put into the term “freedom of conscience” by the leading opposition party at that time - the constitutional democratic one. One of its ideologists A.K. Dzhivilegov wrote: “Freedom of conscience is a further development of the principle of religious tolerance, which certainly presupposes the existence of a state church that enjoys special protection (the prohibition of changing the religion of the ruling church, etc.), and other religions are not persecuted. Freedom of conscience presupposes recognition by the state of the following provisions: everyone has the right to freely choose a religion, found a new religion, and move from one religion to another; everyone has the right to publicly worship and preach sermons in the spirit of the religion he professes; no one is subject to restrictions on political and civil rights for belonging to a particular religion. In this form, freedom of conscience is implemented in all constitutional states. The highest expression of freedom of conscience is the separation of church and state, existing in the United States, Mexico and some Swiss cantons, prepared in France and carried out with some restrictions in Holland and Belgium. By the way, this understanding of freedom of conscience was also characteristic of the absolute majority of other opposition parties. And although the First State Duma, which worked for only 73 days and was dissolved by the tsar, did not have time to begin considering religious bills, the topic of religious freedom was nevertheless raised at its plenary sessions. On June 5, at a plenary meeting of the Duma, a proposal to adopt laws on civil equality was discussed. F. Kokoshkin spoke on behalf of the Cadet Party, who persistently demanded to eliminate the privileges of some classes and restrictions of others in the legal, national and religious spheres, and to ensure gender equality. At the same time, he emphasized that in Russia there is still “a medieval barbaric relic - the restriction of the rights of individual nationalities or persons of a particular religion.” The discussion that followed showed that the ideas of abolishing the existing strict restrictions on the grounds of nationality, religion or class and establishing civil equality in Russia found the widest response among deputies. They were perceived as self-evident truths that should not be proven, but practically implemented in the life of Russia, including through the adoption of relevant laws. The liberal press, summing up the activities of the First Duma in matters of reforming religious legislation, noted that one cannot put up with the half-hearted solution proposed by the authorities. What is needed is not just an expansion of concessions in favor of the demand for religious tolerance, but a “break” with previous political traditions, which saw the union of church and state as the stronghold and basis of the system. It was emphasized that the starting point of the new state policy in religious matters should be the principle of freedom of conscience as an inalienable right of man and citizen. In the period between the dispersal of the First Duma and the convening of the Second Duma, contradictions emerged regarding religious reform in the power structures. Witte, despite all his hesitations, advocated for their continuation, ran into a wall of “misunderstanding” on the part of the right, who had united against him since the October manifesto on freedoms and longed for revenge. Witte explained his reluctance to reform religious policy by saying that “the actual manifestation of the revolution has been suppressed en masse.” In a report to Nicholas II requesting his dismissal from the post of Prime Minister, he, explaining his position, wrote: “On some of the most important issues of state life, such as peasant, Jewish, religious and some others, there is no unity either in the Council of Ministers or in influential spheres. In general, I am not able to defend ideas that do not correspond to my convictions, and therefore I cannot share the views of extreme conservatives, which have recently become the political credo of the Minister of the Interior.” In February 1907, meetings of the State Duma of the second convocation opened. Among its 509 members were 20 Orthodox priests and two bishops. On March 6, the new Chairman of the Council of Ministers, P. A. Stolypin, arrived in the Duma. In his keynote speech, the prime minister described the “recent reforms” in Russia as a “restructuring” of the entire state-national existence. It should, in his conviction, transform Russia in the near future into a rule-of-law state, where written “law” prevails, and not the will of “individuals.” He called on the deputies to assist in every possible way in the adoption of laws necessary for Russia. These, as Stolypin put it, are “material norms” that alone can determine and establish “the solid foundations of the newly emerging state life of Russia.” Presenting government bills on various areas of economic, social and political life, Stolypin also focused on the religious policy of the state. He admitted that this area, like no other, needs urgent reforms, since a legal vacuum has clearly emerged. Although freedom of conscience was proclaimed by the decree of April 17 and the manifesto of October 17, 1905, there was no legal mechanism for ensuring it. The Prime Minister called for urgent changes to the current legislation, as well as the development of new religious laws. Nobody argued with this part of the speech, because it corresponded to both the mood of the Duma members and the mood of society. The question was on what principles the state’s religious policy would be based: on the traditional idea of ​​an “Orthodox Christian state” or on the idea of ​​a “secular state.” As for the Duma, it remained committed to the ideas set out in last year’s (1906) Cadets’ bill “On Freedom of Conscience.” The Prime Minister linked his personal and the government’s understanding of the essence and direction of the religious reforms necessary for Russia with the relationship of the Russian state with the Russian Orthodox Church. In his mouth it looked like this: “... the centuries-old connection of the Russian state with the Christian Church obliges it to base all laws on freedom of conscience on the beginning of the Christian State, in which the Orthodox Church, as the dominant one, enjoys special respect and special protection from the state. By protecting the rights and advantages of the Orthodox Church, the authorities are thereby called upon to protect the complete freedom of its internal governance and structure and to meet halfway all its undertakings that are in accordance with the general laws of the state. The state, even within the limits of new provisions, cannot depart from the precepts of history, reminding us that at all times and in all their affairs the Russian people are animated by the name of Orthodoxy, with which the glory and power of the Russian land is inextricably linked.” If we put aside pathos and pathos, it turns out that essentially the policy towards religious organizations remains unchanged. The government remained in the position of a “Christian state” and in its practical steps was going to be guided by this ideology. In order to somehow veil and soften the revealed fundamental difference in approaches to religious reforms between the Duma and the government, Stolypin stated that “the rights and advantages of the Orthodox Church cannot and should not violate the rights of other confessions and creeds” and that in order to “strengthen the principles of religious tolerance and freedom of conscience” the government will introduce relevant bills. The Second Duma turned out to be even more left-wing in its sentiments than the First. Therefore, Nicholas II agreed to its early dissolution, as reported in the manifesto of June 3, 1907. At the same time, a new electoral law was published. His goal, as intended by P. A. Stolypin, was to prevent the opposition from entering the Duma. To achieve this, the electoral quotas were radically revised in favor of the landowners and the bourgeoisie, while simultaneously reducing the opportunities of the peasant population and workers. Ten regions and provinces in the Asian part of Russia were completely deprived of representation under the pretext of the population’s lack of “sufficient development of citizenship.” The total number of Duma deputies has been reduced. Under the new law, the landowning curia increased the number of electors by almost 37 percent, while the peasant and worker curia were reduced by 45 and 46 percent of electors, respectively. As a result, for the landowning curia there was one elector per 230 people of the population, for the peasant curia - one for 60 thousand, for the workers' curia - one for 125 thousand people. The result turned out the way the government of P. A. Stolypin planned it: the majority in the Duma turned out to be for the right and nationalists, united on the principles of “nationalism and Russianness,” and the Cadets and left parties were relegated to opposition factions that did not have significant opportunities to influence the course of lawmaking in the Duma and its work in general. It is impossible not to notice that the Orthodox Church acted at this moment as an obedient mechanism of power. The ruling bishops and parish clergy were called upon to proclaim the reasons and circumstances of the “forced” dissolution of the Duma, which, according to the authorities, did not live up to “popular expectations.” For example, in Moscow, at the Historical Museum, a meeting of a special commission was held on the issues of holding Readings for workers. Metropolitan of Moscow Vladimir (Epiphany) gave a speech to the participants. Professor P. Tikhomirov responded to this speech in the following way: “The church authorities, obedient slaves of the autocratic political bureaucracy, prohibit priests from joining the ranks of revolutionary parties in the name of the principle of non-interference in worldly struggle, but consider it quite compatible with this principle to serve prayers of thanks for the dispersal of the State Duma, to defend political murders committed by the reaction through fictitious (military) courts, to bless pogroms Black Hundred organizations, etc.” Noteworthy is the fact that the imperial government considered it necessary to dissolve the State Duma in flagrant violation of the Fundamental State Laws, and, as a coup d'etat, to change the law on elections to the State Duma, thereby ensuring a majority in it. Thus, the June Third Acts played a fatal role in the fate of Russian constitutionalism. They shook the basic principle of the new edition of the Basic Laws, according to which norms were established that were not subject to change without the sanction of popular representation. These primarily included the foundations of the electoral system. For the sake of practical expediency, the government sacrificed a constitutional principle, dealing a crushing blow to the legal consciousness that was emerging in society. The forces that spoke out for transforming the autocracy through gradual reforms lost in public opinion because they were unable to implement the programs they themselves proclaimed in the First and Second Dumas. While representatives of the left wing of Russian public opinion could triumph: the events of June 3 became for them a powerful argument in proving the “futility” of expectations for reforms from above and the possibility of the evolution of the Russian political system from autocracy to democracy; from now on, “forceful pressure” and revolution were recognized as the only argument. Against this general political background, in the conditions of confrontation between the authorities and society regarding the expansion of religious freedoms, the activities of Sergius Stragorodsky unfolded at the new department and in the Synod. They began to entrust him with all sorts of assignments, including important and urgent ones that required immediate decision. He continued to be called upon to work on the Synod's Teaching Committee. Particularly pressing was the issue of granting autonomy to theological academies. In November 1905, a special meeting of delegations from theological academies was held, at which the new Chief Prosecutor of the Synod, Prince A.D. Obolensky, was confronted with the determination of representatives of the academies to achieve autonomy. The leading member of the Synod, Metropolitan Anthony (Vadkovsky) of St. Petersburg, being a consistent opponent of autonomy and trying to “dilute” the determination and unity of the academicians, proposed A.D. Obolensky invited “fresh forces” to the meeting - Archbishop Sergius of Finland (Stragorodsky) and Bishop of Pskov Arseny (Stadnitsky), who recently took the post of member of the Synod’s Educational Committee. But unexpectedly for him, both Arseny and Sergius, although with minor reservations, supported the position of the professors. All together they were able to persuade Metropolitan Anthony to include the following provisions in the draft new charter of theological academies: the academies are subordinate to the Holy Synod; the rector and inspector are elected by the academy council and approved by the Synod in their positions; Associate professors are also included in the Academy Council; The Academy Council makes final decisions on approval of academic degrees. On December 17, 1905, Nicholas II received three metropolitans in Tsarskoe Selo: Anthony (Vadkovsky) of St. Petersburg, Flavian (Gorodetsky) of Kyiv and Vladimir (Epiphany) of Moscow and had a conversation with them about convening the Council. At the end of the audience, the hierarchs were instructed to prepare and hold the Council “as soon as possible.” For these purposes, the Pre-Conciliar Presence was created - a special body consisting of representatives of the hierarchy, learned monasticism, and academic circles to develop the necessary church-administrative documents and materials for the Council. Sergius became a permanent member of the Pre-Conciliar Presence, heading the departments that were supposed to prepare the program of council meetings and materials for council discussions. The atmosphere of expectation for the speedy completion of the most important event, which the Council was to become, is well conveyed by Sergius’s letter dated December 25, 1905 to Arseny Stadnitsky, which contained the following lines: “Your Eminence, Most Reverend Bishop and Archpastor! I cordially congratulate you on the great holidays and the upcoming New Year. God grant you this year every success and strength in your varied church service; Let us pray that the Lord will pacify our country and give us all the opportunity to meet at the All-Russian Church Council.” The pre-conciliar presence invited all diocesan bishops to send their thoughts on issues of church reform. Among the numerous reviews were suggestions from Sergius. Basically, they can be reduced to the following: The Council, consisting of bishops, clergy and laity, must first of all deal with reforming the central bodies of church government and organizing diocesan and parish life. The competence of the Holy Synod in legislative matters should not have extended beyond the issuance of explanatory decrees to existing church laws. The Synod should not, on its own initiative, resolve issues of canonical and doctrinal nature, which are subject to the jurisdiction of exclusively local councils. Touching on the then burning topic - the restoration of the patriarchate, Sergius wrote: “Our Patriarch will not be a pope, or even a patriarch in the Byzantine sense of the word; he will only be the chairman of the Synod. In relation to other bishops, he will only be the first among equals and therefore enjoys the usual moral rights of an older brother: the right of fraternal advice, warnings or admonitions; if he finds this necessary, he will bring the guilty bishop to the court of the Holy Synod” 31. When the recommendation to restore the Patriarchal Throne and to name the First Hierarch of the Russian Church was put to a vote, Bishop Sergius was among those members of the Pre-Conciliar Presence who voted “for” and considered it possible to name the First Hierarch “Patriarch.” Let us note that Sergius and 20 other bishops also advocated discussing the issue of the liturgical language of the church, believing that, at the request of the parishioners, this could partly be the Russian language. Both in his proposals for church reform and in repeated speeches at meetings of the Pre-Conciliar Presence, Sergius also touched upon such an issue as “revitalizing the parish.” He advocated that the parish directly manage church property and funds, perceiving this as “its own business” and not as “the business of priests and officials of the ecclesiastical department.” In this part of his reflections, Sergius turned out to be a visionary when he said: “It is no secret that secular society treats us - people of the spiritual environment - almost like Jews, everything that concerns church (now class) interests and affairs is so alien to it. In moments of danger, therefore, church authorities will find themselves terribly isolated and therefore powerless to protect church property. It’s a different matter if the parish owned church property in one form or another, then it would have to be taken from the people themselves, the society itself, and, of course, not only the spiritual, but the entire people would rise up to defend it. It would not be so easy to take away” 32. This is exactly what happened in the February and October days of 1917, when believers did not consider it obligatory for themselves to protect church property and it was largely nationalized. In December 1906, Sergius was summoned to a meeting of the Synod. He was entrusted with chairing the Educational Committee, while at the same time he was engaged in correcting liturgical books. He was retained in the Synod for the winter session of 1907. At the same time, Archbishop Sergius was elected an honorary member of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy. In 1910, Sergius took an active part in the work of the synodal commission to develop a new charter for theological academies. Beginning in May 1911, he became a permanent member of the Holy Synod, working in both summer and winter sessions. All the efforts of the hierarchy and the church community to hold a Church Council did not end in a positive result. In 1908, the works of the Pre-Conciliar Presence were shelved. Neither the tsar nor the government, in the conditions of acute confrontation with society on the issue of religious reforms, decided to take practical steps to prepare the Local Council of the Russian Church. This idea was returned to only in March 1912, when the revolutionary movement was suppressed, and in the Duma of the third convocation, pro-government political factions were finally able to form a majority and block the proposals of democratic forces to expand religious freedoms. The Holy Synod of the Russian Orthodox Church did not stand aside either, which in a special definition expressed its negative attitude towards all religious bills presented by the opposition. In his opinion, they suffered from excessive liberalism, undermined the historically established union of the Orthodox Church and the autocracy, belittling the importance of Orthodoxy in the public and personal life of citizens, and contributed to the spread of religious views alien to it in Russia. The Synod persistently proposed to preserve for the Russian Orthodox Church its “primary” and “dominant” position, to ensure the protection of the rights and privileges of the church and the “inviolability of the Orthodox faith”; do not allow the Old Believers to spread their faith; preserve laws punishing “seduction” into schism. The Pre-Conciliar Conference was entrusted with preparing documents and materials for the Local Council. It was headed by Sergius Stragorodsky as chairman. However, this time too the Council could not be convened. The autocracy did not want the formation of another center of gravity for the interests and forces of society, which, as it believed, would, to one degree or another, resist the imperial power. In May 1911, the post of Chief Prosecutor of the Holy Synod was taken by V. K. Sabler, who for many years was the closest associate of K. P. Pobedonostsev. Having come to power, he developed a vigorous activity, accompanied by loud phrases about church reforms, churchliness, and the good of the Russian church. Only in the summer of 1911, many commissions were created and no less number of projects were developed, which, according to him, were supposed to resolve all the main issues of church life, but only in the way the ultra-conservative wing of the Orthodox Church imagined. The prepared new charter of theological academies expanded the rights of the monastic authorities in managing the academies, and teachers of theological educational institutions were again declared inadmissible for their membership in any unions, parties, or organizations not approved by the church authorities. The proposed parish reform further curtailed the rights of parishioners, while the powers of bishops and clergy, on the contrary, increased. On the issue of providing for the clergy, a fundamentally new course was outlined, which proposed introducing state support for the clergy, which, on the one hand, was supposed to make them even more dependent on the authorities, and on the other, alienate them from the parish and parishioners. Sabler insisted on continuing the Pobedonostsev policy of supporting and expanding the network of parochial schools and increasing their subsidies from the state budget. He also continued the practice of broad participation of the clergy in the Duma election campaign, while striving for maximum coordination of the efforts of the church with the Ministry of Internal Affairs. In February–March 1912, on the eve of the elections to the Fourth State Duma, the Synod and diocesan administrations pointed out to the parish clergy the need to vote for parties to the right of the Octobrists. Unlike previous elections, it was proposed not so much to nominate priests to the Duma, but to achieve their maximum participation in voting as electors at the county level, throwing the votes of the Orthodox clergy into the electoral balance. For Sergius of Stragorodsky, the return of Sabler, with whom he had been on friendly terms since the time of Pobedonostsev, created additional opportunities for growth in his church career. Now one could often see them both in the capital and in Moscow, at all kinds of church and public events and at the royal court, at solemn services and “in agreement” working at meetings of the Synod. Very often, it was Sergius Stragorodsky who was entrusted with matters of a scrupulous nature that required the ability, even when refusing something, not to create a conflict situation. So, for example, it happened in 1912 with the indispensable desire of Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich to see the play “King of the Jews” written by him staged on stage. The Church as a whole had a negative attitude towards the public theater as a place where they “entertain and be entertained”, and did not welcome the appearance of plays of a spiritual nature in theatrical repertoires. This time too, the Synod instructed Sergius to send a written negative response to the author. The Archbishop, following the Eastern wisdom - if you want to sting, first lubricate the tip of your tongue with honey - gave an enthusiastic assessment of the play: in his opinion, it presents events with fidelity to the Gospel narrative, is imbued with a reverent mood and evokes in the soul of the believer many high, pure experiences that can strengthen his faith and love for the One who suffered for the salvation of the world. But if the Synod did not object to the appearance of the play in print, as Sergius pointed out, then the Synod resolutely refused to stage this drama on the theater stage. “It is impossible to hope that the introduction of plays like “The King of the Jews” into the theatrical repertoire,” wrote Sergius, “will ennoble the theater itself and make it a vehicle for evangelical preaching, since for this it would be necessary to remove from it all plays of a different nature, as well as their performers; transform actors from ordinary professional actors into a kind of spiritual corporation with a corresponding way of life. But all this is unthinkable as long as the theater remains a theater, that is, at best, for artists, a church of art for art’s sake, and at worst, for ordinary theatergoers, a place, first of all, for entertainment. Rather, on the contrary, the drama “King of the Jews,” given to modern theatrical stages and in the hands of modern actors, will not only not ennoble the theater, but will itself lose its sublime, spiritual character, turning into an ordinary theatrical performance, in which the main interest is not in the content, but in how skillfully this or that actor plays. But if religious feeling is offended by so-called theatrical reading and singing in church, then it will be even more indignant when the highest object of its reverence becomes material for the stage experiments of notoriously professional actors.” In 1912, the leading member of the Holy Synod, Metropolitan of St. Petersburg Vladimir (Vadkovsky), was seriously ill for a long time. The issue of a possible successor was actively discussed at court. Not without the patronage of V. Sabler, Archbishop of Finland Sergius of Stragorod was perceived as the most acceptable candidate. After the death and burial of Anthony, at the very first report of the chief prosecutor, Nicholas II asked him: “Who will be our metropolitan in the place of the late Metropolitan Anthony?” Sabler reported that Archbishop Sergius (Stragorodsky) was “destined.” The emperor’s answer was unexpected for the chief prosecutor: “No, although I love Bishop Sergius very much, he cannot be appointed metropolitan, since he is deaf.” As it turned out, the sovereign was unpleasantly impressed by a misunderstanding that occurred on the day of Epiphany during the consecration of water, which was performed by Bishop Sergius. During the service, Nicholas addressed him with some question, but he did not hear, and the emperor did not like it. I had to look for a new candidate, and in the end it turned out to be Metropolitan of Moscow Vladimir (Epiphany). The misfortune with the appointment to the Petrograd department did not upset the friendship and alliance of Sabler and Sergius Stragorodsky. The Chief Prosecutor tried in every possible way to promote Sergius to church positions, which would give him the opportunity to be visible and play an increasingly prominent role in church-wide affairs. Thus, in 1913, Archbishop Sergius was entrusted with the responsibility of managing two more synodal departments: the Missionary Council and the Educational Committee. He was not spared any awards: in recognition of his hard work, Sergius was awarded a diamond cross to wear on his hood and the Order of St. Alexander Nevsky. We can glean information about the nature of his episcopal service from the newspaper “Church and Public Bulletin,” which wrote: “The Eminence Sergius did not curry favor with anyone. As for his relationship to earthly benefits and advantages, it is truly monastic. Working tirelessly for the benefit of the Church, he did not try to replace the poor Finnish see with a more prosperous one. Moreover, those who know his life report that he does not receive his Finnish salary in person, but transfers everything entirely to the Karelian mission, being content with the content that he receives from the Synod, and leading an extremely simple and undemanding lifestyle” 33 . The celebration of the 300th anniversary of the House of Romanov was scheduled for 1913. Sergius Stragorodsky becomes a participant in all major anniversary church celebrations. The main one was a divine service in the Kazan Cathedral of the capital, scheduled for February 21, Thursday of Shrovetide Week, which opened the celebration. The day before, a special religious procession brought to the cathedral a particularly revered Russian shrine - the icon of the Pochaev Mother of God, which was installed on the salt near the icon of the Savior. In the presence of the emperor, his family, members of the imperial house and foreign reigning houses, numerous Russian and foreign guests, with the participation of the heads and representatives of the Antioch and Serbian churches, a liturgy was celebrated under the leadership of Metropolitan Anthony (Epiphany) of St. Petersburg. After the end of the service, the departure of the royal family and high-ranking persons, the people were allowed into the cathedral, rushing to the Pochaev Icon in order to have time to venerate it. Some time later, the icon returned in a solemn religious procession to the Mitrofanyevskoye Synodal Metochion. The permanent members of the Holy Synod went to the Winter Palace to bring congratulations to Emperor Nicholas II. Metropolitan Anthony of Epiphany spoke on behalf of the Synod. Then Anthony and Archbishop Sergius of Stragorodsky presented Nicholas II with a large 17th-century icon of the Sign of the Mother of God in an ancient basma setting, decorated with pearls and embroidered with silk. Anthony blessed the emperor with it, and then presented a congratulatory synodal letter. The anniversary celebrations were the last major event in the history of the House of Romanov. The very next year, in the summer, the First World War began, redrawing the political map of Europe. Due to insurmountable circumstances, the day of the beginning of the anniversary celebrations was painted in sad tones for Sergius. A telegram arrived from Arzamas reported: “The beloved shepherd, Archpriest Nikolai Stragorodsky, rested quietly in the Lord.” And already on February 23, Sergius Stragorodsky arrives in Arzamas. In the cathedral church of the Alekseevsky convent, where the deceased served for 47 years, Archbishop Sergius led the funeral liturgy, and then the funeral service for his father. The monastery choir sounded sad as it said goodbye to its experienced and wise leader. Funeral words were heard, in which the deceased stood as a hardworking, modest and conscientious worker in the field of God. The church was full: townspeople and residents of surrounding villages, city clergy, monastics who had known Archpriest Nikolai Stragorodsky for many decades came and wished to say goodbye to him. With the sad ringing of bells, the body of the deceased with a procession of the cross led by Archbishop Sergius was surrounded around the church, and then the procession headed out of the city - to the All Saints Cemetery. According to the will, Father Nikolai was buried next to the grave of his wife, Lyubov Stragorodskaya. One can only add with sadness and pain that years later, in the era of the “socialist reorganization” of Arzamas, the All Saints Cemetery, like many other holy places and resting places of our ancestors, will be devastated and destroyed “to the ground,” and “then” a city park will be built in its place... The year 1913 was also the last year of the life of Sergius Stragorodsky’s paternal aunt Evgenia (Stragorodskaya), abbess of the first-class female dormitory Novodevichy Alexy, a man of God, monastery (until 1897 - the Arzamas Alekseevsky monastery). The monastery was well known not only in the Nizhny Novgorod diocese, but throughout Russia. He was famous for his gold-embroidery workshop, extensive charity and merciful deeds. The monastery was raising orphan girls, and supporting elderly priests with their families, as well as widowed wives of clergymen. The abbess of the monastery was a member of various all-Russian charitable and educational organizations. Since 1898, with the blessing of Bishop Tikhon (Belavin) of Kholm, Abbess Evgenia has been a full member of the Kholm Orthodox Holy Mother of God Brotherhood. Since 1899, she was an honorary member of the society in honor of St. Nina, Equal to the Apostles, and at the same time entered into the trusteeship of the “Humanity Society”... Mother Eugenia was awarded many awards from the Holy Synod, and in 1913 she was received at the palace of Empress Alexandra Feodorovna. For her 35 years of activity and diligent service, in March 1914, Abbess Evgenia was awarded a personalized “portrait of His Imperial Majesty Sovereign Emperor Nicholas II.” On April 27, 1914, at nine o’clock in the morning, Evgenia Stragorodskaya died. The sad news spread throughout Arzamas. The next day, which was traditionally a market day, residents of the surrounding villages also learned about it. Crowds of people flocked to the Alekseevsky Monastery, where funeral services were served almost continuously. Abbess Eugenia was buried on April 29 next to her father, Archpriest John of Stragorod, opposite the altar of the Ascension Cathedral of the monastery. For Sergius Stragorodsky, who was unable to leave St. Petersburg in the pre-storm days on the eve of the First World War, the sad news meant one thing: of all his direct relatives, he only had his sister Alexandra, who married the priest Evgeniy Arkhangelsky and lived in Arzamas. Some time later, the last “hello” to Evgenia Stragorodskaya was brought to Sergius’s house - a staff that had once been given to her by her nephew. Having already become patriarch, Sergius did not part with him. And one could see it in the patriarch’s hand when, during the service, he walked with it along the altar and more so at every small exit. As an appeal from the past to the present residents of Arzamas, one can perceive the miraculously preserved in the local museum of local history disfigured tombstone made of black marble, on which one can still read the inscription: “Under this cross rests the ever-memorable abbess of the Alekseevskaya Monastery. She died on April 27, 1914 at the age of 81. She managed the monastery for 35 years.” During the First World War, relations between the Synod and the government deteriorated noticeably, which was associated with the general crisis of the social system. And the Synod itself was torn apart by contradictions. In fact, his affairs were managed by Grigory Rasputin. An explosion of discontent was caused by the events of 1915, when the Exarch of Georgia, Metropolitan Pitirim (Oknov), Rasputin’s protege, was moved to the Petrograd See instead of Metropolitan Vladimir (Epiphany), and Vladimir was sent to Kyiv. Pitirim immediately took a prominent place at court, trying to carry out the policy of the court camarilla in the Synod, remembering the words of Empress Alexandra Feodorovna about Russian bishops and members of the Synod: “They are all somehow strange, very little educated, with great ambition... These are some kind of spiritual dignitaries... The people follow not dignitaries, but righteous people.” However, this time the unceremonious intervention of the secular authorities, coupled with the elder, caused a protest from the Synod. Sergius led the opposition in the Synod and drew up a written review addressed to the sovereign. For this he received reprimand and displeasure, primarily from Empress Alexandra Feodorovna. Members of the Synod boycotted Pitirim, who silently greeted him when attending Synod meetings, did not communicate with anyone, and also silently left. The actions of Chief Prosecutor Raev, whose supporters were Pitirim and Metropolitan Macarius (Nevsky) of Moscow, were also ignored. All his proposals were obviously defeated by the other members of the Synod - Metropolitan Vladimir of Kyiv, Archbishops Arseny of Novgorod, Sergius of Finland, Tikhon of Dmitrov; bishops - Jacob of Nizhny Novgorod, Mikhail of Grodno, as well as protopresbyter of the military clergy G.I. Shavelsky and even protopresbyter of the court clergy Dernov. Of the 30–40 cases planned for discussion at the Synod, decisions were made on three or four, the rest were postponed. They were postponed... until an indefinite time. The central church administration was virtually completely paralyzed. By the end of 1916, a sharp social confrontation in Russian society was clearly revealed. The masses were for democracy and longed for democratic changes. Exhausted by a long, hateful war, shocked by scandals at the top, squeezed by problems, Russia felt a craving for freedom, for independence, for law, peace and order. Autocracy and the court camarilla were perceived by everyone as an obstacle to liberation. February 1917: freedom! freedom! freedom! The turn of 1916–1917 was a difficult time for the Orthodox Church. Along with the weakening of its “historical ally,” it also faded away, feeling the waves of discontent, embitterment and bitterness of the believing masses. As the assistant to the head of the Synod office S.G. Runkevich wrote in his diary, “dark forces, mediocre and unprincipled, taking advantage of the superstitious mood of the queen, through the mediation of the famous elder Rasputin, gained influence on the king and, promoting the insignificant, unworthy Archbishop Pitirim to the post of Metropolitan of Petrograd and no less insignificant persons to the posts of state representatives in church government, brought terrible corruption into church life.” In the apt expression of the leader of the Cadet Party P.N. Milyukov, “the atmosphere is saturated with electricity, everyone feels the approach of a thunderstorm, and no one knows where the blow will fall.” And the blow broke out and fell on the face, which many considered one of the main culprits of the insanity that was corroding the royal court. Rasputin was killed. In the highest circles, especially in the State Duma, in political parties they almost openly talked about a ripening palace coup in favor of the heir Alexei. And this was perceived as the second possible blow of fate against the building of the absolutist monarchy, which was decrepit before our eyes. The disintegration of power, its inability to prevent the impending catastrophe, its loss of the remnants of authority in Russian society were almost physically felt. In this agony, the authorities feverishly searched for the “culprits” of the internal decay of society, those who, in their opinion, prevented the strengthening of the patriotic spirit in the fight against the external enemy - Germany and its allies. A wave of pogroms swept across the country against the Jewish and German population, immigrants from countries that were part of the bloc at war with Russia. Many leaders of Protestant churches and communities were arrested or expelled from the country, houses of worship were closed, and a ban was introduced on the distribution of religious literature. But history had its own way, and the brewing revolution took place not from above, but from below, not systematically, but spontaneously. Already on February 23, 1917, the first signs of popular unrest appeared in Petrograd. The next day, peaceful rallies gave way to the first armed clashes with the police. On February 25, the work of factories and factories, classes in educational institutions were suspended. All of Petrograd took to the streets. Near the building of the City Duma there was a major clash between the people and the police, and on Znamenskaya Square, during the same clash, the Cossacks took the side of the people, rushed at the military police and put them to flight. On the 26th, Sunday, the government prepared for a decisive battle. The center of the capital was cordoned off by patrols, and machine guns were installed everywhere. However, this did not deter the crowd. In huge numbers, with banners, people walked the streets and gathered for rallies. With the sanction of the government, machine guns were used in clashes between the people and the police. To strengthen the police, some of the soldiers were dressed in police overcoats, which caused unrest and extreme indignation in the regiments of the Petrograd garrison and gave impetus to going over to the side of the insurgent people. While machine guns were being installed in the center of the capital, its members gathered in the Synod building on Senate Square. But not everyone was able to arrive, and Chief Prosecutor N.P. Raev was not there. The meeting was chaired by his deputy, Prince N.D. Zhevakhov. Before the start of the meeting, he, addressing the leading member, Metropolitan of Kyiv Vladimir (Epiphany), pointed out the ongoing revolutionary unrest and called for the release of an appeal to the population, so that it would not only be read in churches, but also posted on the streets. He called, insisted, and implored those present not to stand aside from the unfolding events, to take the side of the government, to issue an appeal with words of admonition to the flock, with a stern warning to those who encroach on faith, the king and the fatherland. But the proposal hung in the air. “It’s always like this,” answered Metropolitan Vladimir, hesitatingly, “when we are not needed, we are not noticed, and in times of danger they turn to us first for help.” The prince tried to insist and persuade, but the hierarchs became stubborn and nothing happened with the appeal. None of those present had any idea what events Russia, the church, and the people were on the verge of. The last meeting of the Synod turned out to be the last one under the tsarist regime. Over the next few days, the monarchy collapsed, giving way to a hastily formed Provisional Government. The declaration he published on March 3 promised, among other things, religious freedoms, while maintaining the previous order of state administration of church affairs: the Holy Governing Synod and the post of Chief Prosecutor - the state controller of the life of the church. It was occupied by a member of the State Duma, chairman of the Duma Commission on Church Affairs V. N. Lvov, a supporter of the Octobrists. On March 4, Lvov appeared at the meeting of the Synod for the first time, announcing the “liberation” of the church from its former dependence on the autocracy and declaring that from now on the church has the right to independently determine the form of church self-government. In the meantime, it was proposed to accept government directives from the chief prosecutor for execution and, through him, submit requests and proposals to the government. Immediately, the royal throne that had stood against the wall for many years was taken out of the hall - a symbol of the former supreme power. This scene was difficult not only for the extremely conservative members of the Synod - Metropolitans Macarius (Nevsky), Vladimir (Epiphany) and Pitirim (Oknov), but also for the relatively moderate and liberal hierarchs Sergius (Stragorodsky), Tikhon (Belavin). They “burned” what they had worshiped just yesterday. At the initiative of Lvov, on March 6, the Synod published a message that opened with very characteristic words: “The will of God has been done. Russia has embarked on the path of a new state life.” Under the leadership of the Chief Prosecutor, the Synod took note of the acts of March 2 and 3 on the abdication of Nicholas II and Mikhail Romanov from the throne, ordered the clergy to perform a prayer service for the “consolation of passions” and to proclaim “many years” to the “God-protected Russian state and the faithful Provisional Government.” At the same time, it was recommended to hold district and diocesan congresses with the adoption of resolutions in support of the new government, read sermons and teachings, and arrange extra-liturgical conversations between parish priests and ruling bishops with the flock. Through the chief prosecutor, the Provisional Government intended to implement its program of reforms in state-church relations. It was supposed to declare an amnesty for all “religious matters”; abolish class and religious restrictions; ensure equality of religions, as well as citizens, regardless of their attitude to religion; abolish compulsory teaching of the Law of God in public schools; transfer parochial schools to the Ministry of Public Education; lift restrictions on the activities of Old Believer, Roman Catholic, Uniate, Protestant, Muslim, Buddhist and other religious organizations. The attitude towards this system of government measures on the part of the Synod, whose composition was approved by Nicholas II, was ambiguous, rather negative, because they were viewed as an attack on the “primary” and “dominant” position of the Russian Church in the state and society. Hence the mute resistance to the actions of the chief prosecutor and the desire to slow down reforms. And locally, as agents of the Provisional Government reported, it was the Orthodox clergy who resisted the new political and church trends in every possible way, remembering the Tsar during services and behaving as if nothing had happened. As a result, in mid-April Lvov decided to dissolve the old Synod and announce the convening of a new one. An exception was made only in relation to Sergius Stragorodsky. …On April 25, Archbishop Sergius led a prayer service in the synodal church. Newly appointed members of the Synod were present, including representatives from the white clergy. After the service, we went into the conference room and sat down at a common semicircular table. On its outer side there are bishops, archpriests; on the inside, on the contrary, there is Lviv with his retinue. The chief prosecutor spoke first. He simply threw thunder and lightning, reporting about “church unrest” and “disorganization in church life.” He accused the Synod and the Orthodox Church of anemia and unwillingness to meet the democratic changes that their flock demands of them. “So,” Lvov concluded his “pogrom” speech, “until democracy has strengthened in the church, until the correct relationships between all components of the church body have been established, until then,” his clenched fist hit the table with force, “the chief prosecutor cannot help but interfere in the life of the church and not even show some autocracy.” After some stupor caused by the rebellious speech of the Chief Prosecutor, suddenly there was a rush from all sides: – You are exceeding your authority! You don’t want to take into account the opinion of the church community! We will protest! Archbishop Sergius also stood up from his seat. He took out a sheet of paper folded into four and began to read: “We obey the will of the Provisional Government and are leaving for our dioceses. But we protest..." This was the text of the statement prepared by the members of the Synod of the old convocation. In it they expressed their dissatisfaction and wanted to draw the attention of the authorities to the arbitrariness against the church. The dismissed hierarchs instructed Sergius, as the only one remaining in the Synod, to bring its contents to the chief prosecutor. He continued to read: “We are protesting because the convening of a new Synod is uncanonical. For the bishops themselves to the Synod must be elected by the entire episcopate, and the presbyters by the entire clergy. This is not the case, and that is why we are protesting.” Having finished, Sergius wanted to personally provide evidence of the validity of the claims of those dismissed, but he could only say: “Mr. Chief Prosecutor...” And was immediately rudely interrupted by Lvov. Everyone understood that from now on the initiative in the activities of the Synod did not belong to them, but, as had happened before, to the chief prosecutor. They are left with the unenviable role of puppets, obediently carrying out his instructions. The position of Archbishop Sergius in the spring and summer of 1917 was very difficult. He was the only one left from the previous composition, and this emphasized his special position in the episcopate. In fact, he found himself in the position of first hierarch of the Russian Church. Most often, it was he who, on behalf of the Synod members, entered into negotiations with the chief prosecutor. He had to actively participate in the development of church materials for reform, head synodal commissions, and receive numerous delegations from dioceses. Let us emphasize that contemporaries considered the most characteristic feature of the archbishop to be his ability to get along with various political trends, to make compromises and tactical tricks when necessary, to be “law-abiding” and at the same time skillfully defend his convictions. All these qualities were fully manifested in those months when the main goal was to prepare for the convening of the Local Council and it was necessary to yield to the claims of the Provisional Government, support the Chief Prosecutor and at the same time ensure the unity of the Synod, smoothing out contradictions both between various groups within it and between them and the Chief Prosecutor. In the absence of Lvov, who once again went to Moscow, the Synod decided to demonstrate its openness to reforms and announced the holding of early elections for the Petrograd and Moscow metropolises. In Petrograd, newspapers wrote: “Citizens of the Church! Go to churches, take part in elections, create a renewed church life!” The Church and Public Bulletin published biographies of those who were nominated for the Petrograd See. In an essay dedicated to Sergius Stragorodsky, his beliefs, according to the compiler, were characterized as “church-progressive.” It was also emphasized that “his simple, loving heart and his ability to understand the human soul unite around him the most diverse elements: a simple peasant or a monk from the outback, and an important general, and an Old Believer, and an intellectual. This sympathy for everything sincere and worthy, as well as for unhappy and embittered humanity, was always unfeignedly true in him, alien to showmanship and politicking.” Since May 11, 1917, meetings were held in each of the operating churches in Petrograd to nominate delegates to the diocesan council. It opened on May 23 in the presence of 1,600 delegates. The first day of his work was spent in preliminary meetings at which candidates were nominated and discussed. In total, eleven of them were named: from bishops and white clergy. Archbishop Sergius of Stragorod was also included in the list. On May 24, after the liturgy and prayer service, preliminary voting on candidates began in the Kazan Cathedral. It identified three leaders - Bishop of Gdov Benjamin (Kazan) - 699 votes, Archbishop of Finland Sergius (Stragorodsky) - 398, Bishop of Ufa Andrey (Ukhtomsky) - 364 votes. In the final vote, the absolute majority of the delegates gave preference to Bishop Benjamin. The Synod recognized the results of the elections and elevated Benjamin to the rank of archbishop. A month later, at a diocesan meeting in Moscow, Archbishop Tikhon (Belavin) was elected to the post of Metropolitan of Moscow. …On May 30, as usual, at 12 noon the meeting of the Synod began. The accumulated telegrams and appeals of the ruling hierarchs about transfers and dismissals, about conflict situations between bishops and clergy in dioceses were considered. The discussion of divorce documents proceeded slowly and steadily. And when it seemed that the protracted meeting had come to an end and the synodals were looking forward to a short rest, Lvov literally flew into the hall. Right away, he called on everyone to stay for an emergency meeting. The intrigued members of the Synod again sat down in their usual places. “I want to give a report on my trip to Moscow,” the chief prosecutor began. – You know that the All-Russian Spiritual and Pedagogical Congress took place there. And everything would have gone well, but in the final decisions the congress exceeded its powers. Namely: he approved the need to transfer diocesan schools to the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Public Education, and also to reform the Educational Committee of the Synod, introducing there, in addition to persons elected by the Synod, representatives of the congress. I think that these issues should have been initially discussed at our meeting, and then considered at the All-Russian Congress of Clergy and Laity, and only then we could listen to the opinion of teachers. But what happened happened, and we need to respond to such an unpleasant incident. Those listening to the chief prosecutor looked at each other in bewilderment, amazed at his words and pathetic indignation in defense of church schools. Everyone already knew the speech delivered by the chief prosecutor at that meeting. His words, which explained everything and everyone: “It’s time, it’s high time to transfer not only women’s schools, but also seminaries and men’s schools under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Public Education. And this is inevitable, since the authorities will not give a penny for religious educational institutions,” were literally on everyone’s lips. And now they were convincingly and loudly convinced of the opposite. “What is this,” thought the Synodals, “inconsistency, frivolity? But can a person entrusted with being the guardian of church interests afford something like this?” As it turned out, it was an overture to the main thing that Lvov wanted to convey to the synods. With the same cavalry charge, he proposed to immediately reform the Synod. Dissolve its current composition as not having proper authority and elect a new one at the upcoming Moscow All-Russian Congress of Clergy and Laity in mid-June. Such an extravagant move caused a storm of emotions. The usually calm and somewhat phlegmatic Archbishop Platon (Rozhdestvensky), Exarch of Georgia, literally shouted out with unusual firmness: – This statement of yours forces all of us to immediately resign. We do not consider ourselves subject to re-election by the All-Russian Congress. We can only submit to the will of the Provisional Government. “The chief prosecutor,” Archpriest Filonenko picked up, “used us to plug the gap that had formed in the church ship at a critical moment of church devastation, and then throw us overboard like unnecessary material.” The dispute flared up in earnest. And from other members of the Synod, the chief prosecutor was accused of insincerity, deceit, unwillingness to carry out painstaking work on preparing the Council, exceeding, for the umpteenth time, his powers, and the adventurism of his church policy, fraught with dire consequences for the gradually improving church life. Unanimously rejecting the advances of the Chief Prosecutor, the members of the Synod emphasized that they were not worried about themselves and their personal interests, but for the rights and dignity of the Synod. It was clear from Lvov’s frowning face that the reaction of those present was unpleasant for him. But help came to him from an unexpected direction. “I fully understand the chief prosecutor’s intentions and am in every possible way ready to share with him the efforts to renovate the church,” Archbishop Sergius suddenly declared quietly but clearly. Everyone turned their heads in his direction, bewilderment was visible on their faces... “And I don’t understand,” Sergius continued, “why we should resist.” It is indecent for us to even defend the immutability of the current state. After all, we ourselves had a hand in it. And our persistence looks personal. Hearing this, Lvov became noticeably more cheerful, while the members of the Synod sank, discouraged by Sergius’s “move.” However, Lvov did not dare to “put the squeeze” on the synodals and, after reflection, declared: “I’m sorry, but of all of you, only Archbishop Sergius is not overwhelmed by personal passions that overshadow the need for urgent changes. But, not wanting to go into confrontation, trying to prove my loyalty to the church, I withdraw my offer. On June 6, Tuesday, almost all members of the Synod gathered in the conference hall. The proposed agenda was very rich. First, they considered the application of the congress of the Petrograd clergy for the elevation to the rank of Petrograd metropolitan of Archbishop Veniamin, newly elected to this see. Then they heard a statement from the congress of the Yaroslavl clergy, which expressed no confidence in its ruling hierarch, Archbishop Agafangel (Preobrazhensky) due to his “dignity,” “inaccessibility,” and “patronage to bureaucrats.” The turn has come to a statement from the delegation of clergy from the Vladimir diocese. Its members decisively demanded the dismissal of Archbishop Alexy (Dorodnitsyn), pointing out that otherwise there would be extraordinary excesses and discord. And now, they said, in some churches they have stopped commemorating the archbishop, and where his name is commemorated, protests from pilgrims are spreading. In the end, the matter was helped by a petition received from the deposed ruler himself. He reported that he could not come to Petrograd due to illness, and therefore asked to be given two months' leave and then dismissed. That's what they decided on. Then they started talking about Archbishop Plato’s trip to Kyiv. It was conceived as an investigation of the “Ukrainophile movement”, splitting the unity of the Russian Church, and as an attempt to strengthen the organization of the fight against Uniatism propaganda. - So what is being done! - said Plato. – Sheptytsky, the Uniate Metropolitan, openly conducts propaganda among the Orthodox not only in Galicia, but also in the Orthodox dioceses of internal Russia, and the Provisional Government awarded him the official title of Uniate Metropolitan in Southwestern Russia. Others also supported Plato and began vying with each other to make additional claims. Eminence Sergius, as chairman of the Missionary Council, was asked to pay special attention to the propaganda of Catholicism in Petrograd, where, in the opinion of many, the Uniates staged a religious procession that eclipsed all previous Orthodox processions. Specific response actions were proposed: to make a special trip to Kyiv in order to organize active Orthodox propaganda there and resolutely oppose the Uniates; convene a congress of bishops in the south of Russia to organize the fight against Uniatism. As we can see, the relationship between the Synod and the chief prosecutor’s office was quite acute and fraught with conflict. But still, both sides understood the need to take steps towards the Local Council. By a resolution of the Synod of May 8, all preparatory work was entrusted to the Pre-Conciliar Council. Already on June 12, a prayer service led by Archbishop Sergius took place in the Synodal Church on the occasion of the opening of the council meetings. The assembled members of the council gathered for the first time in the synodal meeting hall. Speaking to them, Sergius recalled the previous work of the Pre-Conciliar Presence and the Pre-Conciliar Conference and called the opening meetings of the Pre-Conciliar Council the third attempt on the path to the Local Council. He called on those present to cast aside any hesitation and resolutely get down to work, since the Council, as he put it, “with all its mystical greatness, is an everyday phenomenon for the Church, it is a condition for its normal life, without which it cannot live, just as it is impossible to live without food and air.” Not only representatives of the hierarchy, the clergy, and the scientific corporation, but also representatives of the “social strata” were delegated to the council. Ten departments were formed to prepare drafts of various conciliar documents on various aspects of the reform. Archbishop Sergius had the burden of overall leadership of the work of the council, and in addition, he presided and made reports at the most important meetings. This was the case, for example, when his report on the highest church government was discussed. It is noteworthy that in the new political conditions and with anti-monarchical sentiments, instead of the patriarch, the documents envisioned some newly established collegial body, and the patriarchate was presented as an “anti-Christian” matter, contrary to the “spirit of conciliarity.” Obviously, “diplomacy” was manifested in this, because the refusal to restore the patriarchate, as it seemed to the members of the Pre-Conciliar Council, created the most favorable conditions for the church in the eyes of the government for allowing the holding of the Local Council. A serious struggle broke out in the Pre-Conciliar Council regarding the structure of the highest bodies of church power. A minority of the council members persistently advocated the existence of only one body - the Holy Synod. Moreover, it was thought that in its composition the episcopate would be represented in a deliberate minority, and thus the opinion of the episcopate actually did not have any significance in deciding matters in the Synod. The majority tried to defend the idea of ​​a bicameral system of government: from the Holy Synod and the Supreme Church Council, so that the bishops could independently discuss and make their collective decision. Archbishop Sergius, who presided at that meeting, defended the majority option. He was convinced that the revival of the church was impossible without the participation of the hierarchy, and therefore it was unacceptable to deprive it of influence on the management of church life. “We insist,” said Sergius, “that the Russian episcopate have its representation in the person of the Holy Synod, from where, for example, blessings and other purely hierarchical decisions would come as from persons who have the divine right to do so. We cannot renounce this right, and the church will never remove this responsibility from us as long as it is an Orthodox church.” Largely thanks to the firmness of Archbishop Sergius, the Pre-Conciliar Council agreed with his point of view. Its correctness was confirmed later, now at meetings of the Local Council, which approved the highest church governing bodies in the person of the Holy Synod and the Supreme Church Council. At that time, the question of church and parish property and the place of the priest in managing the economic affairs of the community also became acute. And again, Sergius proposed different ways than before to resolve both existing and inevitable conflicts in the future. Referring to apostolic times, he pointed out that if there are those who are dissatisfied with the orders of the pastors, then the Christians themselves should be left to manage parish economic affairs. “Since they don’t trust us,” he concluded, “they want to control everything themselves, we immediately abandon all external economic affairs, but our ministry, the “ministry of the word,” remains with us.” The Pre-Conciliar Council met in the context of a deepening crisis in the Provisional Government, an intensifying struggle between various social forces and movements, and political parties. Metropolitan Evlogy (then Archbishop of Volyn) 30 years later described the situation in which the council worked: “Our work took place in an alarming, tense atmosphere. I remember on July 3, before we had time to arrive at the meeting, there was a machine-gun crackle: tra-ta-ta... tra-ta-ta... We looked out the window - a crowd of people... Workers, workers, red flags. Screaming, noise, discordant singing of the “Internationale”... Frightened passers-by are running along the sidewalks, trucks with people armed to the teeth are rushing. Gun shots are heard. Our congregation members are nervous. They shout to the chairman, Archbishop Sergius: "Close! Close the meeting!" But he calmly objects: “Why don’t we work?” 34. The work continued, and even the bishops who arrived from Vasilievsky Island, and with great difficulty reached Liteinaya, did not shake the chairman’s composure with their pale, upset faces. So the Pre-Conciliar Council worked that day, amid the crackle of machine guns and shots. And yet, fearing the unpredictability of the political situation, the Synod on the evening of July 5 approved the venue and the earliest date for the start of the work of the Local Council - August 15 in Moscow. At the same time, bishops, clergy and laity, who were elected at diocesan meetings, were invited to participate in the Council. Members of the Council were also nominated from the army and military clergy, from monasteries and theological academies, from universities and the Academy of Sciences, from the State Duma and the State Council. As the first elective meetings showed, the parish clergy, carried away in the first months by the revolutionary novelty, in July already experienced enough fear from the spirit of the revolution and elected moderate and right-wing delegates from among them. The usual excitement reigned at the Moskovsky station in Petrograd. Crowds of people arriving and leaving, greeting and seeing off. Clever porters scurrying among people, peddlers of all kinds of food and goods, conductors, engine drivers, disorganized rows of soldiers, peasants with shoulder bags, boys hurrying about their business. Various noise and hum. It seemed that everyone was busy with their own business and in this busyness did not notice what was happening around them. But still, in this crowd of excited faces, it was impossible not to pay attention to several dozen people who had gathered and were busily discussing something near one of the carriages of the Petrograd-Moscow fast train. These were delegates from the Petrograd diocese to the Local Council opening soon in Moscow, as well as members of the Pre-Conciliar Council and the Holy Synod that had completed its work - archbishops, bishops, archpriests, priests, laymen, professors and teachers of theological educational institutions. Archbishop Sergius of Stragorod was also in this group. Finally, the conductor announced the departure of the train. Last farewell words, wishes, parting words, exclamations. A little more and the train started moving. Towards evening, Archbishop Sergius invited the archpriest of the Assumption Cathedral of the Moscow Kremlin, Father Nikolai Lyubimov, who was traveling in the same carriage, to his compartment. Sergius recalled that in the bustle before leaving, he was unable to talk to him during the meeting of the Synod, although he asked him to do so. Now Sergius wanted to make amends for his awkwardness. – Father Nikolai, forgive me generously that we were unable to talk. But now the situation is quite conducive to that. To get to the second capital, go and go. Shall we talk? - Well, Vladyka, I somehow lost sight of this... The last day of Petrograd... the troubles before leaving. - So what do you have to do with me? – asked the archbishop. – I received a letter from Archpriest John Vostorgov. He asks for my petition to the Synod to appoint him to some mission of our church: Japan, China, Korea, America or even Australia. You, Vladyka, are the chairman of the Missionary Council, so I thought that only you could help him. - Oh, have no doubt, I am entirely at your disposal. And I will help in any way I can. After all, truly, we have few such preachers and righteous people as Father John, and it is a sin for us to neglect them. Especially with the current desolation. True, I will be able to deal directly with this matter only after the start of the Council. Let's agree to return to the conversation in a couple of weeks. Sergius did not want to end the conversation with vague promises. Although in the last four months they met together in the Synod and participated in the discussion of various social and church issues, no closeness was established between them. Taking advantage of the opportunity that presented itself, Sergius wanted to melt the chill of official relations with Archpriest Nikolai Lyubimov. Moreover, in Moscow, where they were now heading, he was a respected and famous person, and the resolution of many practical problems of the opening Council depended on him. And it was interesting to learn, as they say, first-hand about the problems of church life in Moscow, about the changes that took place in the spring and summer of this year. – Father Nikolai, please note, what’s in Moscow? The newspapers described the February events, but how can you trust them?! – Moscow was seething in the spring... There were no more popular words than “freedom”, “republic”, which literally intoxicated people. Rallies, meetings, crowds of loitering people in the city center. Everyone greeted each other, decorated themselves with red bows, bought up and presented each other with bronze medallions with the image of “Free Russia”. On the streets, in public places, on buildings, the tricolor imperial flags were replaced by red ones. They showed up at military units stationed in the capital. – It looks like it’s similar to what we have in Petrograd... And liberal priests immediately surfaced, joining the revolution and talking loudly about church reforms? - Yes, yes. Young monks and liberal priests rejoiced for some unknown reason and walked around with gogol, as if they had been given a ruble. But the monastery elders and venerable archpriests, who had turned gray in consistory intrigues, behaved evasively and kept a gloomy silence. While the small servants were daring: they sang revolutionary songs while drunk, went to rallies, even “performed” at them in front of the greedily staring rabble of the capital, demanding the “liberation” of the church from “dark forces”, the removal from everywhere of those who had stained themselves with connections with Grishka Rasputin, with the royal family. – Is that why they demanded the removal of the ruler of Moscow Macarius? By the way, where is he and how is his life? – They informed me that he settled in the Trinity-Sergius Lavra. Outwardly, he seemed to have settled down and calmed down. Although there are rumors that the elder metropolitan is intriguing against the newly elected Moscow ruler Tikhon. He intends to submit to the Council a request to review the Synod’s decision on his dismissal as taken under pressure from the “possessed” Chief Prosecutor of Lvov. - Yes, yes... A solid old man. It must be difficult for Archbishop Tikhon? – It’s a bit difficult... because everything in Moscow is unknown to him. And Moscow doesn’t know him either. The diocesan congress in June supported him not so much for his merits, but in defiance of Samarin and his group, which promoted him to bishop. The priests did not want the power over themselves of the former chief prosecutor, a secular man in general, even if he had accepted monasticism. They wanted their own... spiritual... monk... – I remember that at the Synod you called for consideration of the situation in the Assumption Cathedral, did you talk about “unrest”? - Eh, Vladyka, what a mess there is, now we need to shout about the impending disaster. In Petrograd I went to different authorities, since Lvov did not allow this issue to pass to the Synod. He asked for money, because the treasury does not give money, but it is necessary to repair, restore, procure fuel and maintain the clergy. Now I have learned that there are rumors and various conversations circulating in Moscow that the Kremlin cathedrals are going to be transferred to the jurisdiction and care of the Moscow diocese, that is, the Assumption Cathedral, and the clergy will be deprived of all subsidies and government salaries. And there are absolutely terrible rumors about the impending seizure of relics, about terrorist attacks on the territory of the Kremlin. “I just can’t believe it, Father Nikolai.” Straight out apocalyptic horrors, and that’s all. – Believe it or not... but just in case, I petitioned the Moscow authorities not to remove the security, but to strengthen it. - That's right. All the main celebrations on the occasion of the opening of the Cathedral are planned in the Assumption Cathedral and on the territory of the Kremlin, both cathedral residents and the public will attend, and here there are such threats. Time flew by unnoticed during the conversation. The conductor had already brought the lamp and once again put the hot tea on the table. But the interlocutors, who suddenly felt mutual sympathy for each other, did not want to separate. And there was still a lot to talk about. But there was nothing to do: the coming day in Moscow promised to be very tense, and it was necessary to prepare for it. The interlocutors agreed not to lose sight of each other and went their separate ways. In the middle of the new day, the train arrived at the Nikolaevsky station of the second capital. Archbishop Sergius and Archpriest Nikolai Lyubimov walked out to the station square together. They were already waiting here. They said a warm farewell, and Lyubimov went to the Kremlin, and Archbishop Sergius to the courtyard of the Valaam Monastery, which is near the Brest station. Out of long-term habit, he stopped here when visiting Moscow. The location was convenient in all respects: somewhat distant from the seething passions of the city center, although very close to all the main city transport arteries, the proposed venues for the Council and the accommodation of its members and guests. An important circumstance was that the courtyard maintained a comfortable life and order for the residents almost unchanged. The time that remained before the opening of the Council passed for Sergius of Stragorodsky in extreme tension. As a member of the Synod, he participated in endless meetings devoted to various issues of the Council, edited documents submitted to the Council, rules of messages and greetings, speeches and theses. Particularly troublesome was the issue of accommodating the participants of the Council, who tentatively numbered more than five hundred people. First of all, Sergius visited the Moscow Theological Seminary on Bozhedomka. The students were on vacation, and the entire building was handed over to the cathedral. Dormitories for priests were established here. Bishops were given separate classrooms, separated by temporary partitions, so that they had quite comfortable separate rooms for two or three people. Meals were common to everyone in the seminary cafeteria. They made an exception only for the bishops: they were given a small separate room. In Likhov Lane, Sergius inspected the Diocesan House. It was located a ten-minute walk from the seminary, which was very convenient. The working sessions of the Council were to be held in the large, bright and majestic hall of the Diocesan House, which also had excellent acoustics. At the end of the hall opposite from the entrance, an altar was built, separated by a sliding partition, which was supposed to be always open, and the meeting of the Council itself was supposed to resemble a sacred rite. Chairs for the bishops were already placed on the solea. In front of them are tables covered with green cloth for the presidium. In front of them, chairs for the remaining members of the Cathedral were placed in an amphitheater. At the very beginning of August, a telegram arrived at the Valaam metochion addressed to Sergius of Stragorodsky, announcing the beginning of an emergency diocesan congress in Vladimir. Sergius, who had previously expressed his desire to be elected among others to the post of administrator of the diocese, was forced to immediately leave Moscow. See: Bronzov A. A. Christian reading. St. Petersburg, 1900. May. pp. 710–745. See for more details: Odintsov M.I. Orthodox views on the fatherland and patriotism / Religion and nationalism: Collection of articles. M., 2000. pp. 9–30. Bronzov A. A. Christian reading. St. Petersburg, 1900. May. pp. 710–745. See: Rasila V. History of Finland. Petrozavodsk, 1996. P. 128. Dzhunkovsky V.F. Memoirs. M., 1997. T. 2. P. 527. Additions to the Church Gazette. 1906. No. 38. pp. 2613–2614. Guardian of the House of the Lord: Patriarch of Moscow and All Rus' Sergius of Stragorod. M., 2003. P. 886. Church and public newsletter. 1917. No. 95. Evlogy (Georgievsky), metropolitan. The path of my life: Memoirs. M., 1994. P. 269.