Глава VIII

Abbot Ignatius's intention to move from the Lopotov Monastery had a purely physical reason. His broken body needed a climate, if not southern, then at least dry and not swampy. Happy with the attention of the Moscow ruler and not seeking honor and glory, he would have been content with the Nikolo-Ugreshsky monastery, but the sovereign will called him to broader activities. In terms of climate, the area of ​​the Sergius Hermitage did not even offer the amenities that the Lopotov Monastery possessed. The coastal strip of the Gulf of Finland, the waves of which spread in sight of the monastery itself, could in no way serve to restore physical strength. In a spiritual and moral sense, the new place of residence presented much more inconvenience compared to the previous one; it required extreme spiritual achievement, since it was more surrounded by the thorns of everyday rumors and vanity, which inevitably had to butt a spiritual person. Only living faith in God’s Providence and a good conscience in fulfilling the monastic vow of obedience, which Fr. Ignatius provided the royal will, they could support him when entering this new field. He entered there as a true monk, with dispassion and selflessness, and although he had all the advantages to furnish his new field of activity with the most brilliant career successes, it was not in his spiritual character to use this position in the sense of worldly successes. An enemy of personal interests, he cared only about the good of the monastery entrusted to him. As a loyal subject and monk, he firmly decided to fulfill the will of his beloved monarch, making the desert entrusted to him an exemplary monastery in all respects. Sergius Hermitage, founded in 1734 and located near St. Petersburg itself, a little away from the current Peterhof railway, was, as said, under the control of suffragan bishops. This administrative situation was far from favorable to its material condition, and the proximity of the capital made it a crossroads for passing metropolitan residents, which had a very unfavorable effect on the spiritual life of the monastery brotherhood. The buildings of the monastery, from the Church of St. Sergius 88 to the last monastic services, were neglected long ago. In the church, when they began to amend it, only one wall turned out to be usable, the abbot’s building almost did not exist, it stood locked and unheated, there was no room for the newly arrived abbot at all, he was forced to stay in an invalid’s home, set up at the monastery by the support of the counts Zubovs 89 and consisting of their support. There he was allocated two rooms, in which he stayed with the 8 brethren who arrived with him. The entire brotherhood of the monastery consisted of 13 people: 8 monastics, 3 novices and 2 subordinates. And, despite such a small number of brethren, among them there was no order befitting a monastery. Material neglect and moral depravity reigned in full force. The new abbot found St. Sergius Hermitage in this situation. 90 The monastery required such a rector: through the fate of God’s Providence or the prayers of St. Sergius, a hundred years from its foundation, its restoration began, both material and spiritual. The abbot's representative personality by education and his ascetic spirituality fully corresponded to the purpose for which the sovereign was pleased to appoint Archimandrite Ignatius as rector of this monastery. But the labors and concerns for external renewal and improvement and relationships of all kinds with higher and lower soon laid their mark on the sickly and strictly active monk. By his own admission, the sorrows from people that had hitherto befallen him were moderate. “To test them,” he says in his “Lamentation,” “a special field was needed. By the incomprehensible destinies of God's Providence I was placed in that monastery neighboring the northern capital, which, when I lived in the capital, I did not even want to see, considering it in every way inconsistent with my spiritual goals. In 1833 I was summoned to Sergius Hermitage and made its rector. The monastery of Sergius Hermitage received me inhospitably. In the first year after arriving in it, I was struck by a serious illness, the next year by another, the third by a third: they took away the remnants of my meager health and strength, made me exhausted, constantly suffering. Here envy, slander, and slander arose and hissed; here I was subjected to heavy, lengthy, humiliating punishments, without trial, without the slightest examination, like a dumb animal, like an insensitive idol; here I saw enemies breathing irreconcilable malice and the thirst for my destruction.” 91 From this sketch of Archimandrite Ignatius’s entry into the new monastery, it is clear that from the very beginning his abbot’s activity was to be divided into two branches: according to external structure and internal deanery. The abbot's first task was the restoration of the Church of St. Sergius and a major renovation of the building of the abbot's cells. This is what he wrote in 1834 in his petition to the then Metropolitan of St. Petersburg for permission to make the necessary buildings and corrections at the monastery: “Inspecting the monastery buildings, I found them absolutely in a very unfavorable position. My predecessors in the management of the monastery, the Right Reverend Bishops of Revel, saw this state of affairs and therefore prepared in advance a sum of money of up to 50 thousand rubles in banknotes and a significant amount of bricks, with the indispensable goal of repairing dilapidated buildings and building new ones.” The work began with the permission of the Synod, which allowed the use of the collected 50,000 rubles in banknotes and the prepared bricks. Countess Orlova also helped a lot with her generous donations. The church and the building of the abbot's cells, as single-facade buildings, were connected by a new two-story building, on the upper floor of which an extensive fraternal meal was very conveniently arranged, and on the lower floor there was a kitchen, bakery and other utility rooms. During the construction of these buildings, in the same summer of 1834, the Emperor unexpectedly visited the monastery. Arriving from Peterhof at about 6 o'clock in the afternoon, he entered the church alone and asked the monk he met: “Is the archimandrite at home? Tell him that his former comrade wants to see him.” The archimandrite came, accompanied by his constant comrade, Fr. Mikhail Chikhachev. The sovereign treated them graciously and kindly, asked about their third comrade Feodorov, who had entered the monastery with them, and in response to the answer that Feodorov had returned to the world and entered service again, he remarked: “Apparently, the monastery bread seemed dry to him, but to you,” he turned to Chikhachev, who had grown significantly fatter, “it went to waste.” At this time, the Empress and the Sovereign Heir arrived. Naturally, a lot of people gathered, and all these people witnessed the paternal attention that always constituted a distinctive feature in the relationship of the late emperor to the deceased ruler. Then the sovereign deigned to inspect in detail the buildings being built and found it necessary to restore the cathedral church, for which he ordered the archimandrite to submit an estimate in the order of official instances. The presented estimate was approved on December 25, 1835, and according to the state list, it was assigned to issue 96,808 rubles from the treasury of the St. Petersburg State Chamber. 19 kopecks banknotes for the correction and renovation of the Trinity Cathedral Church 92. The restoration was completed in 1838, and in 1842 rich choirs were built in this church with the amount donated by Empress Alexandra Feodorovna. The abbot’s first concern for the internal spiritual well-being of the monastery was the establishment of strict order in everything, according to the monastic regulations: church services began to be performed in orderly order, with greatness and solemnity, which was complemented by attractive choir singing, intelligible reading, decorous standing, worship according to position and, in general, decorous movements, decorous presence at meals, very decent clothing, and neatness and cleanliness in everything gave the whole situation an appearance of grace, combined with simplicity, which ennobled the very morals of the monks. The abbot delved into everyone's cell life, encouraged them to spend their time savingly in reading monastic books, to carry out all possible labors of obedience, and carried the spirit of true monasticism into the fraternity, disposing everyone to attention, to accepting advice and edification in spiritual and moral life, to organizing themselves according to the guidance of the patristic writings. He communicated to the brotherhood his way of thinking and views on monasticism, was the father and mentor of everyone, accepting them for the revelation of thoughts for the creation and spiritual mood. Doors of cells about. archimandrite were open, everyone freely came to him - from elderly monks to clergy to young novices, as a result of which the entire brotherhood began to form one great family, ruled by one father, bound by a union of consent and spiritual unity, animated and guided by the high teaching of the father-mentor. “Especially,” says Chikhachev, “the abbot’s activities were helped by his ability to choose people and his knowledge of the human heart, with which he knew how to tie people to the work entrusted to them. He sought to develop in a person devotion to the work entrusted to him and encouraged it with approval and even awards and promotions. Surrounding himself with people with abilities and strengths, he quickly achieved his goals and brought his intentions to precise fulfillment.” The spiritual revival of the monastery became visible to everyone: the former inhabitants of the desert were amazed at the sudden change, and the spiritual authorities were surprised at it; they looked at the management of Archimandrite Ignatius as unprecedented news. The capital's society of all strata also turned its gaze to the reviving monastery, saw new orders, new rules, external and internal splendor, the speed with which everything arose and developed - and were perplexed. But not everyone could understand and appreciate the totality of the changes being made, and not everyone looked at them equally favorably. There were people who looked unfavorably at the unprecedented phenomenon - the sovereign's favorable disposition towards monasticism, and especially in the person of such a gifted person as Archimandrite Ignatius, gave rise to multifaceted envy - intrigues arose both on the part of people of secular society and on the part of the spiritual administration. Dislike gave rise to slander, slander, accusations intertwined with details fabricated by malice, and the intrigues and machinations of persons whose position in society had the opportunity to harm the archimandrite became inseparable companions throughout his life. The dislike of the spiritual administration began to be expressed by continuous oppression, sometimes covered with truth according to human laws, and in other cases quite obvious. Thus, the enemy of human salvation pursues every good deed, and especially the spiritual well-being of monks; he directs his arrows mainly against their leaders, inciting the anger of the people of this age. For such instruments of evil, everything seemed permissible, which could serve to harm and ridicule the abbot and the monastery. They tried to reinterpret the most ordinary orders and cases in their own way, into an accusation against the abbot. For a large part of society, the Sergius Hermitage became a target at which stinging arrows, dressed mostly in the most refined mockery, were launched. In those years, the sovereign spent the summer in Peterhof. Sergius Hermitage was a crossroads at which everyone, or a significant number, came from St. Petersburg to the court. They stopped by to please the Emperor and Empress, they stopped by out of curiosity, they stopped by with deliberate hostility, with the intention of condemning what they saw. An example of such visits is the unexpectedly expressed mood of one very high-ranking official. On July 5, the day of St. Sergius, all visitors to the monastery dined at a common table with the brethren in a new extensive meal. Among the guests were a considerable number of dignitaries belonging to the highest administration. During lunch, one of the most honorable visitors addressed the abbot with a question, uttered in a tone of voice that expressed the spirit of the speech: “How can you reconcile, Father Archimandrite, your vows of monasticism with the environment in which you live?” Pointing with his eyes at the high-society society surrounding the archimandrite. The abbot answered: “Very simply: it can be explained by obedience to the will of the sovereign emperor, who was pleased to take me from the Vologda swamps, where I lived in a secluded monastery, and put me here, at the crossroads of the great world, to tell you the word of truth as much as your vile decency of the world will allow.” Another time, at the monastery entrance, the archimandrite got into a carriage to go to the Nevsky Lavra to see his confessor. From a group of lay people standing nearby, no one stopped to mockingly tell his listeners so loudly that his words were clearly audible to the archimandrite: “He’s going to see his mistress!” “This was conveyed to me by the Most Reverend Ignatius himself,” said Peter Alexandrovich and added, “an invisible martyr sat in the carriage to go to his confessor and in the sacrament of confession to appear before the face of God and find consolation for the wounds of his heart, and the world saw him off with its judgment and condemnation.” But a spiritual person judges everything, but no one can judge him (1 Cor. Chapter 2, Art. 15) - says the apostle, and another spirit-bearing father said: “It is scary to determine your judgment on the actions of a spiritual person.” This confirms the truth of the words of Chikhachev, who speaks of his elder ascetic in this way: “The very actions of him, Archimandrite Ignatius, were incomprehensible to many, not to mention to everyone, especially to me, a simpleton. It contained many things, and one did not interfere with the other, that is, a deep knowledge of the writings of St. fathers with monastic active experience, and external skill, and the ability to deal with all kinds of people, a subtle comprehension of morals, knowledge of a person with all his bizarre infirmities, the ability to distinguish between good intentions and malicious, cunning flexibility, the ability to penetrate into intent. Under such a skillful leader, everything was settled with God’s help, everything was endured: both bearable and what seemed unbearable due to human weakness.” There was a lot of work, obstacles, failures, sorrows and temptations both for the abbot himself and for the brethren who surrounded him and came with him. The most inconvenient location of the monastery, standing at a lively crossroads of suburban dwellings of the capital, was for them a heavy internal cross, invisible to the eyes of the world. Here about. Ignatius experimentally taught his spiritual children internal cross-bearing, which is the lot of every pious Christian, and even more so a monk. He himself served as an example for them of complacent patience and uncomplaining bearing of his cross, in which, with the assistance of grace, he achieved such great spiritual strength that such cross-bearing in many cases was kind to him. Thus, continuing the above article of “Lamentation,” he says about himself: “Here the merciful Lord vouchsafed me to know the joy and peace of the soul inexpressible in words; here He vouchsafed me to taste spiritual love and sweetness while I met my enemy who was looking for my head - and the face of this enemy became in my eyes like the face of a bright angel. I learned through experience the mysterious meaning of Christ’s silence before Pilate and the Jewish bishops. What a joy it is to be a victim like Jesus! Or not! What a joy it is to be crucified near the Savior, as the blessed thief was once crucified, and together with this thief, from the conviction of the soul, to confess: you have received what is worthy of my deeds, remember me, Lord, when you come into Your Kingdom (sic. Luke 23; 41, 42).” 93 In the “Word of Consolation to the Sorrowing Monks,” the spiritual crusader teaches the basic principle, which, one might say, is the daily bread of true monastic life: “Let us follow Christ! Let us humble ourselves like Him! Like Him, we will not refuse to be known as flatterers and delusional ones, we will not spare our honor, we will not turn our faces away from spitting and cheeks from blows, we will not seek glory, beauty, or pleasures that belong to this world, we will make our earthly journey as pilgrims who have nowhere to lay our heads, we will accept, we will accept reproaches, humiliation and contempt from people as inalienable attributes of our chosen one. path, we will openly and secretly fight with the thoughts of pride, with all our might we will overthrow these thoughts of our old man, who is seeking to revive his “I,” under various plausible pretexts. Then the Son of God, who said to dwell in them and come (2 Cor. 6:16) will appear in our hearts and give us the power and strength to bind the strong one, to plunder his vessels, to step on the asp and the basilisk, to trample them. Let us reject grumbling, reject complaints about our fate, reject heartfelt sadness and melancholy, from which weak souls suffer more than from the sorrows themselves. Let us reject all thoughts of revenge and repaying evil for evil. Vengeance is mine, I will repay, said the Lord (Rom. 12:19). Do you want to endure sorrows with ease and comfort? – May death for Christ be desirable to you. May this death be constantly before your eyes. Mortify yourself daily, painting your death. We are given the commandment to follow Christ by taking up our cross. This means: we must always be ready to die for Christ with joy and gladness... Whoever wants to die for Christ will not endure what misfortune, what insult generously?” 94 The higher clergy, with very few exceptions, were hostile to Archimandrite Ignatius. This hostility began to be expressed in various demands that constrained his work as abbot, which began to attract many pilgrims to the monastery and attract the favorable attention of many influential persons from St. Petersburg society. Soon three decrees of the above character followed one after another from the Consistory. They put the abbot in a very difficult position. The first decree required sending three hieromonks from the monastery to the fleet, while there were only six of them, despite the fact that the decree was carried out, trustworthy people were sent, but among them there was one elderly person, since there was no third young hieromonk. The second decree reprimanded the abbot for sending an elderly hieromonk to the fleet. The third decree ordered the archimandrite and the brethren of the desert to travel to the city in no other way than by first asking for a vacation ticket from the Consistory. The secretary reported to the Metropolitan that this was the highest order. The rector, having stated in his report the impossibility of carrying out such a decree, because provisions and all the necessary trifles were bought in the city, went to the metropolitan, whom he could not convince to accept the report, but received from him permission to seek the highest permission for him and the brethren to travel, still without tickets, from the Consistory in those ways that he considered more convenient for himself. Then the archimandrite, taking Chikhachev with him, went to Tsarskoye Selo, where the royal family was then located. When leaving the carriage at the very entrance of the palace, they met Tsarevich Alexander Nikolaevich. He asked the archimandrite about the reason for his arrival. “I need to see the sovereign,” answered the archimandrite. “Okay,” said the heir, “I’ll report to him about you, and you wait for an answer at Kavelin’s apartment.” Kavelin came, on behalf of the sovereign, asked everything in detail and, returning from His Majesty, gave the archimandrite permission to travel for him and the brethren, still without consistory tickets, and to announce to the metropolitan about this permission, which Kavelin at the same time officially informed the chief prosecutor of the Synod. Having released Chikhachev into the desert, the archimandrite went to the metropolitan, who approved the actions of Archimandrite Ignatius and added that through this permission it would be possible to make relief for others, but did not want to accept the report on the cancellation of the consistory decree. Secretary Suslov, who was present here, saw the turn the matter was taking and said: “Indeed, this is a mistake on our part.” Then the Metropolitan accepted the report and allowed the Sergiusites to continue to travel to St. Petersburg. The secretary's mistake was that he applied to the inhabitants of the Sergius Hermitage the general law on obtaining tickets from the Consistory in case of business trips or vacations for brethren dismissed from monasteries, and he called this law the highest command. Worldly people were jealous of the favor of the sovereign and empress that the archimandrite enjoyed. Others were annoyed at his independent character and lack of any kind of people-pleasing behavior, attributing this to pride. One His Serene Highness, the ruler of the region, expressed in a conversation about Archimandrite Ignatius that he would not want to serve in the same administration with such a bishop as Archimandrite Ignatius, and when asked: “Why?”, he answered: “You can’t step on his foot.” Such relations between high-ranking clergy and secular persons often left Archimandrite Ignatius in a hopeless situation - with many displeasures and troubles of all kinds, and he, as a courageous fighter and obedient bearer of the yoke of Christ, got used to such cramped conditions of everyday life and hid most of his sorrows within himself. At the end of his life, already living in the Nikolo-Babaevsky Monastery, he revealed to those around him some circumstances and incidents, with the goal of reconciling the listener with his sorrows through his experience. Church of St. Sergius is the first wooden church in the desert. Consecrated in 1735 by Archimandrite. Varlaam, was rebuilt several times. Under archim. Ignatius in 1854, the architect A. M. Gornostaev began a complete reconstruction of the church in the Byzantine style. Closed in the 1920s, preserved in a modified form. Currently, services have been resumed there, and its restoration continues. The Invalid House of the Counts Zubovs was built in memory of Valerian Zubov, who died in the Persian campaign from wounds, by his brothers in 1809. A martyr’s church was erected over the grave of the deceased. Valerian with a nursing home for 30 crippled warriors. The building survived in a heavily altered state. It is wonderful that the arrival of Fr. Archimandrite Ignatius to the Sergius Monastery happened in the most anniversary year of its centenary existence. T. 1. Ascetic. experiments. P. 565. Trinity Cathedral Church - construction began by P. Trezzini, completed by B. Rastrelli in 1760. Completely rebuilt under Archimandrite. Ignatius. Some of the icons in the church were painted by the novice John, the future archimandrite. Ignatius (Malyshev), and the altarpiece of the Holy Trinity by Academician K. Bryullov. Blown up in 1962 T. 1. Ascetic. experiments. pp. 565–566. T. 1. Ascetic. experiments. pp. 351–352.