Russian preachers: Essays on the history of Russian preaching

Contents About the author of the book Preface Saint Demetrius of Rostov Metropolitan Platon (Levshin) Metropolitan Philaret (Drozdov) Archbishop Innocent (Borisov) Appendix Brief information about the life and work of Russian preachers Saint Demetrius of Rostov 1651–1709 Metropolitan Platon (Levshin) 1737–1812 Metropolitan Philaret (Drozdov) 1782–1867 Archbishop Innokenty (Borisov) 1800–1857 We present to the reader a book by the outstanding Russian scientist, historian of science V.P. Zubova (1900–1963) for the first time reveals the philosophy of Russian preaching as a theory of expressing Christian truth in the spoken word. The application of theology to literature, or homiletics, is considered by the author using the example of an analysis of the form, style, means of expression and rhythmic features of the structure of sermons of the largest Russian theologians of the late 18th–19th centuries: St. Dmitry of Rostov, Metropolitan Platon (Levshin), Metropolitan Philaret (Drozdov), Archbishop Innocent (Borisov). The book was written by V.P. Zubov in the late 20s - early 30s and is published for the first time. Intended for specialists in the field of philology, theology, philosophy, Russian history and for everyone interested in issues of Russian culture. First published book: “Russian Preachers. Essays on the history of Russian preaching" is a small part of the extensive and extremely diverse scientific heritage of Vasily Pavlovich Zubov (1900–1963) 1. This name is well known to historians of science and architecture, both here and abroad. Vasily Pavlovich Zubov is known, first of all, as the author of fundamental monographs “Historiography of natural sciences in Russia (XVIII century - first half of the XIX century)” (1956), “Aristotle” (1963), “Development of atomistic concepts before the beginning of the XIX century.” (1965), “Works on the history and theory of architecture” (2000), etc. The last two monographs, published posthumously, provide a biography of the scientist and a bibliography of his published works, including more than 200 works. V. P. Zubov’s research was translated and published abroad, among them a Monograph on Leonardo da Vinci (1968), doctoral dissertation “The Architectural Theory of L. B. Alberti› (2000). V. P. Zubov is valued as a brilliant translator and commentator on architectural, mathematical and philosophical treatises written by authors of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance (L. B. Alberti “Ten Books on Architecture” (1935–1937), the work of Daniele Barbaro “Commentary on Ten Books on the Architecture of Vitruvius” (1938) and many others). There are known studies by V.P. Zubov devoted to ancient Russian spiritual culture. Among them are articles about Russian translations and adaptations in the 17th century. works of Aristotle; notes on what was translated back in the 10th century. in Bulgaria, the philosophical and theological treatise of John of Damascus “The Source of Knowledge,” which was included in the 16th century. as part of the “Great Menaions and Occasions” of Metropolitan Macarius; article “Questions about the “indivisible” and the infinite in the ancient Russian monument of the 15th century.” (1953); publication, notes and translation of the work of Kirik Novgorod (1953); article “Epiphanius the Wise and Pachomius the Serb” (1953) and a number of other works. The works of V.P. Zubov received worldwide recognition. In 1960 he was elected a full member of the International Academy of the History of Science. In 1963, posthumously, he was awarded the George Sarton Medal for his contribution to the development of the history of science. In 2000, an international scientific conference was held dedicated to the centenary of the birth of V.P. Zubova: “Science and art in the culture of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance.” Formation and development of V.P. Zubov as a scientist and citizen was inextricably linked with the environment in which he grew up. Vasily Pavlovich Zubov was born on July 19 (August 1, new style) 1900 in the city of Alexandrov, Vladimir province - next to the city, in the village of Krutets, there was a family estate where the Zubov family spent the summer months; In winter, the Zubovs lived in Moscow, near Taganskaya Square in their own mansion on Bolshaya Alekseevskaya Street. Vasily Pavlovich’s father, Pavel Vasilyevich (1862–1921), was a prominent thermochemist and famous numismatist (his collection of oriental coins of world significance and his library were bequeathed to him and transferred to the State Historical Museum in Moscow). He was a gifted violinist, owner of the rarest bowed instruments made by Stradivarius, Guarneri, Ruggeri, and Amati. For many years, P.V. Zubov was the chairman of the care of the poor of the Rogozhsky part in the parish of the Church of St. Martin the Confessor. Several generations of the Orthodox Zubov family are associated with this church. Pavel Vasilyevich was baptized in it, here he married Natalya Mitrofanovna, née Gracheva in 1899, their four children were baptized here, the eldest of whom was Vasily, and Pavel Vasilyevich’s funeral service was performed here in 1921. Loving and hardworking parents - Pavel Vasilyevich and Natalya Mitrofanovna - raised their children in the spirit of the Orthodox faith. After studying at home, Vasily Zubov in 1912 passed the exams for the third grade of the A. E. Flerov gymnasium, from which he graduated with a gold medal in 1918. In the same year, he entered the philosophy department of Moscow University, but a year later he was drafted into the Red Army and served there as a clerk (until 1920). Brief notes preserved in the family archive date back to this time. In them we will not find any mention of need, hunger, lack of money and other everyday difficulties so characteristic of that time. There are four main themes in these diary entries: church, nature, music, and the world of books. The records testify to his deep Orthodox faith and his subtle philosophical understanding of everything he saw. From the diary you can find out that at that time he was writing a work on Divine Grace, and in the Rumyantsev Library he was translating the life of St. from Latin. Martin the Confessor. Here is an entry made on April 9, 1920: “I read the Philokalia and especially vividly felt that all the ascetic norms here are not imposed from the outside on life, but grow out of life. Practice precedes theory, intuition precedes reflection. (Especially among the early Egyptian and Athonite ascetics). Reading these ascetic chapters, I realized that religion is continuous dynamics, development, that the religious soul cannot be imagined in a static state.” In the spring of 1920, while still serving in the army, V.P. Zubov visited the university and saw what drastic changes had occurred in it. The university “seemed alien, dead, especially the philosophy students. What is if not zero, philosophy that has not grown out of a properly educated Christian consciousness? And how can a country that has despised its own religion build an urgent philosophy without restoring this religion? Isn’t philosophy poison—outside the Church?” (April 16). In 1922, V.P. Zubov graduated from the philosophical department of the Faculty of History and Philology of Moscow University, where he also saw lectures by B.A. Fokht, A.L. Kubitsky, I.V. Popov, I.A. Ilyin, S.L. Frank and G.G. Shpet. The reader can imagine how difficult it was at that time for an Orthodox philosopher to find work and maintain spiritual and moral foundations. The variety of topics in V.P. Zubov’s scientific research, which was mentioned at the beginning of the article, was dictated not only by personal tastes, the universality of interests and talent of the author, but also by a forced change of topics in various institutions where he had to work: the State Academy of Art Sciences (liquidated in 1929), the Academy of Architecture (disbanded during the period of “the fight against excesses”) and, finally, the Institute of the History of Natural Sciences and Technology Academy of Sciences, where Vasily Pavlovich worked until 1963. In all his research, the author invariably turned to primary sources, scrupulously studied them, and thoroughly became acquainted with the literature of the period under study. V.P. Zubov’s high demands on himself and on his scientific work are eloquently demonstrated by his following statement during the war, when in cold and hunger he wrote his doctoral dissertation “Alberti’s Architectural Theory”: “I have no right to write badly. The war will end, but my work will remain, and no one will be interested in the conditions under which it was written.” This work by V.P. Zubov, like many of his other works, has not lost its scientific value to this day. In the same difficult and hungry years, the book offered to the reader, “Russian Preachers,” was written, where the theological, philosophical and philological knowledge of the author, his subtle perception of the beauty and expressiveness of the Russian language were clearly demonstrated. More than half a century has passed since the work of V.P. Zubov was written (in all likelihood, it was written in the late 20s - early 30s). Over the past time, no works of this kind have appeared on the history of Russian preaching. V.P. Zubov devoted his work mainly to a close study and analysis of the form, style, means of expression and rhythmic features of the structure of the sermons of the largest Russian theologians of the late 18th–19th centuries: St. Demetrius of Rostov, Metropolitan Platon (Levshin), Metropolitan Philaret (Drozdov) and Archbishop Innocent (Borisov). In the preface, V.P. Zubov emphasized that “such research makes sense only if one does not lose sight of what is being expressed—the one Truth of the Church.” Manuscript of the book “Russian Preachers. Essays on the history of Russian preaching” was preserved in the family archive. It is written in clear, neat handwriting in a thick pre-revolutionary notebook (305 pages). The text of the manuscript is published in full, including several pages crossed out from top to bottom with a red line: it can be assumed that the author doubted their appropriateness because the reasoning contained there partly disrupted the flow of presentation. These fragments, very interesting in themselves, were preserved and formed an appendix to the third chapter: “Metropolitan Philaret (Drozdov).” When preparing the manuscript for publication, bibliographic information was clarified, some comments were added (they are marked with an asterisk*), and translations of foreign language texts cited by the author were made (they are enclosed in square brackets). The text preserves the graphic difference between the words peace - peace, harmony, silence and peace - universe, human race, people. Explanatory diagrams in the text are presented in the author's version. In his study, V.P. Zubov almost does not touch upon the biography of Russian preachers. The reader will find brief information about the life and work of St. Demetrius of Rostov, Metropolitan Platon (Levshin), St. Philaret (Drozdov) and St. Innocent (Borisov) at the end of the book, in the appendix written by M. V. Zubova (an article about Metropolitan Plato - co-authored with I. E. Putyatin). The portraits of Metropolitan Platon, Metropolitan Philaret and Archbishop Innokenty are taken from the book “Selected Teachings of the Twelve Archpastors of the Russian Church with Portraits (M., 1861), the portrait of Dmitry of Rostov is from his collected works (M., 1848. Vol. 1). The cover design uses a watercolor from the 1800s, “View of Kitay-Gorod from the Ruins of the Cannon Yard.” In the middle of the ensemble is depicted the Zaikonospassky Monastery, which originally housed the Slavic-Greek-Latin Academy - the spiritual center of learned monasticism in Russia, which trained many Russian preachers. I would like to express my deep gratitude to everyone who selflessly helped in preparing V.P. Zubov’s manuscript for publication, and above all: Mikhail Borisovich Gornung, Galina Aleksandrovna Pylneva, Tamara Mikhailovna Sudnik, Ilya Evgenievich Putyatin, Tatyana Evgenievna Solovyova, Marina Aleksandrovna Zubova, Nadezhda Sergeevna Sbytova. “We have forgotten the old, but have not adopted the new, and having become unlike ourselves, we have not become what we would like to be.” Those who have traveled around Russia remember those churches made of unplastered brick with gray domes, which became a kind of architectural standard for the 20th century. Let him remember the chromolithographed icons and the Chesnokov litanies. And, having summed it all up, let him think about style. Everywhere, it seems, the rules have been followed, some seemingly impeccable average has been taken, and yet everything is not right... Reprints of the best sermons produce the same impression. The publishers changed a little, just a little, were afraid of the incomprehensibility of “like” and replaced it with “how”, rearranged the words in Plato’s melodious period or threw out one or two subordinate clauses - and the period sounded wooden, official, lost its face, expressiveness, blood, color. Just as ancient churches were rebuilt and defaced with absurd additions, just as icons were licked and “renewed,” monuments of the word were mutilated in the same way. This happened to Saint Demetrius back in the 18th century, when the style of his sermons was “corrected”; this happened to Metropolitan Plato in 1913, when his ugly (far from complete) “Complete Works” appeared - the only one after the 18th century. The year 1917 saved us from a similar mutilation of Filaret. Everything foreshadowed, however, that stylistic “corrections” would sooner or later befall this hierarch. However, Filaret himself, in his mature and old age, carefully smoothed out the “edges” and “roughness” of his early sermons, retouched his own preaching image and sometimes replaced bold preaching phrases with cautious dogmatic formulations. The shortcomings of Innocent's main edition were already noted by contemporaries. A typical example of the oblivion of the best traditions and the loss of aesthetic sense are the homiletical anthologies of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, for example, the collection of Dyachenko - this dormi secure of Russian preachers. At first glance, everything is in order here - samples are taken from the best preachers with some, however, abbreviations. But who will be inspired by these scraps of originals interspersed with the editor’s deathly paraphrases? Instead of a little inspiring, but still thought-provoking temnik, there is a bad homiletical crib sheet. Meanwhile, how many “fathers” does Dyachenko use!.. Perhaps one cannot blame them, because there is nothing that could replace Dyachenko, just as there is no one to build churches the way they were built in the 15th century. The history of literature has been little interested in the text, and even less in the spirit and meaning of ancient sermons. Popular stories were more to her heart. Therefore, the uncorrupted or close to uncorrupted text of the sermons of St. has not yet been published. Dimitri. With the false historical approach to cultural phenomena prevailing since the second half of the 19th century, it was difficult to expect the emergence of a true history of Russian preaching. Historical and cultural trivia was interspersed with descriptions of archival manuscripts. 75% (if not more) of everything written on the history of Russian preaching is devoted to influences, borrowings, the “spirit” of the era, journalism, etc. little things that obscure the main meaning and main problems. It sometimes seems that we have used up the amount of paper that fate has given us in trifles. And approaching the sermons of the 17th–19th centuries, you still feel a certain thrill of virgin untouchedness. How much do we know about the rhythm of Filaret’s prose, about the melody of Plato, about the syntax of Innocent, about the rhetorical tropes and figures of all of them? Have we ever tried to seriously study their style? Is their eidetics clear? And, not to mention problems of form, is the psychology and metaphysics of their personality sufficiently illuminated? We would not like the reader to see only historical portraits in these essays. On the contrary, the author’s main idea was to show how a person ceases to be a person, or only a person, and outgrows himself. From a Protestant point of view (Schleiermacher), a sermon is an artistic revelation of the preacher’s personal worldview to the listener. From a church point of view, a personal worldview is the same material and means as the characteristics of an era or the stylistic originality of linguistic forms. It is not the personality that is expressed in the sermon, but the dogma through the personality and the spoken word. Dogma is refracted in personality, in artistic, rhetorical, stylistic forms. Homiletics is the application of theology to literature, and not part of the theory of literature, or otherwise, the theory of the expression of Christian truth in the spoken word - an expression, of course, refracted in the personality of the preacher and, of course, reflecting the trends of the era. But the environment modifies the perception of truth; Christian truth itself does not appear to be subject to the laws of the fluid environment. The preacher is not only a historical personality and not even only a creative personality of a speaker and artist, but a person: a shepherd who has received from the Holy Spirit the gift of preaching and the power to teach. In these essays, the form and means of expression are analyzed primarily, but the analysis of these forms makes sense only if what is being expressed, the one Truth of the Church, is not lost sight of. Saint Demetrius of Rostov In his "Diariush" St. Demetrius recounts a dream he saw in 1685. St. appeared to him. Varvara. “To the one who spoke to me: “Holy Virgin Barbara, my benefactor, pray to God for my sins!”, the Saint answered, as if having some doubt: “I don’t know, I prayed, for you pray in the Roman way...” Having heard these words from the Saint, I began to grieve, and seemed to despair; but the Saint, after a little time, looked at me with a cheerful and grinning face and said: “Don’t be afraid!” and some other words of consolation were uttered, which I don’t even remember” 2. The Catholic judgment of St. Demetrius on the Immaculate Conception 3. It is known that he sometimes used Jerome’s translation of the Bible 4, that he often made references to Western fathers and teachers: Ambrose, “the chief leader of Milan and no less a church teacher” 5, Augustine, “even a Western, but also a useful teacher” 6, Blessed Jerome, whom he, like the Catholics, calls a saint 7, Gregory Dvoeslov, Cyprian of Carthage 8 . The Jesuit renegade Feofan Prokopovich, glorified by intellectual historians of literature, later demanded that the Orthodox preacher “should not indulge in frivolous treasury deeds, of which there are especially Polish ones.” But it was the “frivolous treasurer” Foma Mlodzyanovsky who was carefully read by St. Dimitri. In the “Painting” of his cell books 9 there are listed “Młodzian Kazan books 4” and in the same place “Thomas Aquinas”, and “Johannes Bonaventura (libellus parvulus) and many other Latin and Polish books” 10. In an early sermon by St. Demetrius on Trinity Day (1693) we read the quote: “Who are you, Lord? Who is it? You are the abyss of being of true Glory; “I am the abyss of insignificance, vanity and damnation,” with the note: Nose S. Franciscus spiritu elevatus dicebat 11. Let us remember the saint’s review of Thomas a à Kempis - “a guest from Western countries, a stranger - but not with bad goods, the so-called Thomas opens his little chest, his little book, I say, about imitation of Christ’s call” 12. That the Latin element is strong in Saint Demetrius is evidenced by the abundance of Latinisms even in the “corrected”, smoothed text of his sermons: disputation, argument 13, testament 14, maestat 15, antecessor 16, surname 17, exhalation 18. Sometimes there is a play on words that clearly points to a Western source and is understandable only in connection with the Latin original: the apocalyptic elders lay down their crowns before God, and we, who have not yet been “crowned from heaven (coronati),” can instead bring God only “pure gold ones, of which others are called coronates” 19. In some sermons there are stories from Western history: about the glorious commander Baldwin and the Saracen king 20, about Matthew Corvinus, Prince of Ungar 21 and others. Everything testifies to the strength of the Latin Catholic element in the works of St. Dimitri. St. Demetrius is incomprehensible given his hostile attitude towards Catholicism and its misunderstanding. But already in the middle of the 18th century the saint was canonized. Thus, he became inaccessible to opponents of Catholicism and enemies of Catholic culture, to anti-Catholic and anti-European attacks. Much that directly affected St. Dimisriya, could only be said to others. The authors kept within the bounds of decency when it came to talking about the saint and Orthodoxy. And at the same time, one could throw out phrases that “Catholic scholarship has always ignored sound scientific concepts” 22, or talk about the “sterile verbiage” and “purely Catholic intolerance” of Stefan Jaworski 23. In a dispute with Catholicism, one could use the most vulgar “liberal” arguments, forgetting that this vulgarity is equally incompatible with Orthodoxy. Almost intentionally, therefore, the constructive, hierarchical, Catholic aspects of the personality of St. were left in the shadows. Dimitri. Meanwhile, St. Demetrius was a “Westerner” or, if you like, a “European”, and with all his activities he proves that the “windows” to Europe are not the import of military ammunition and Protestantism, but a real introduction to the culture of Europe, and the real windows have long been cut through by southwestern Orthodoxy. Whether in denunciations of Peter’s “humanity” or in something else, the judgment of St. is everywhere. Demetrius - the judgment of the true “West” over the false West. This is not the inertia of a self-burning schism and not the worship of utilitarian fetishes. There were two “wests” in Russia, and for all its originality, St. Demetrius is a “European,” just as Europe is not, despite its “Europeanness,” Peter’s utilitarian enlightenment. O. Pavel Piersing in his famous work 24 tried to show that Peter’s work could have been carried out much earlier by Demetrius the Pretender, with the difference that Russia would have accepted European culture from the hands of Catholicism, and not Protestantism, as was the case under Peter. History decided otherwise. The Catholic potency was stifled, and St. Demetrius became a representative of that hidden hidden opposition to which Stefan Yavorsky, and later Theophylact Lopatinsky, belonged. Catholic potency manifested itself where there was a struggle against schism; here and St. Peter needed Demetrius. But as soon as they came into contact with state power, a blank wall was erected. Muscovy defeated southwestern Rus' - that third force that led to the true West from the inertia of the schism and the cross between Protestant rationalism and Asian utilitarianism. St. Demetrius imitated the Polish preachers in form, but the essence of his speeches aimed at something else, relevant and living, that was before his eyes - at the iconoclastic and monastic tendencies of Protestantism, which sprouted on the soil of Petrine Russia. He devotes an entire sermon to an anti-schism apology for the four-pointed cross. But the sermon ends with a polemic with the new iconoclasts. “In modern times, some gentlemen are ashamed to place an icon of Christ or the Mother of God in their homes; but some shameless people are supplying images of Venus, or Diana, or other old idols, or new ones, for example, the Queen or Gishpanskaya, or Anglinskuk›, or the French one” 25 . It is usually pointed out that the sermon on the 14th week of Pentecost, delivered in 1708 at the Ivanovo Monastery, was referring to the decree on the abolition of military posts. Herod's feast is her theme. Guests at the feast - Venus, Bacchus, Mapc. And it’s immediately clear whose feast this is. “Not only the Greeks, but as I see it, and ours, who say to be an Orthodox Christian, did not dislike that little god [Bacchus], he liked it: he indulged much more in gluttonous pleasures, imitating Bacchus’s disciple Luther. Not observing fasts is not a sin: drinking day and night, then humanity, being in a party, then friendship; and that after death they tell about the soul where it should go, that’s a fable” 26. The disgustingness of drunkenness is shown in the same sermon in all its unsightly naturalism. “And the lips of a drunkard are like some empty stable, filled with stinking pus, and his tongue is like a shovel, sweeping out pus.” Drunk “and has already committed the crime of ancient times and has already been killed by oblivion, and she remembers, and like a dead man resurrects from the grave... The drunken power in him outrages the secrets of the heart, and casts them out... And just as one usually eats through drunkenness, throwing food out of the stomach by vomiting, revealing secrets; both food and secrets in the piano are arranged for vomiting” 27. And so that there is no doubt that Bacchus is the Bacchus of the Peter era, a symbol still, according to the “Moscow” wild assemblies, the saint points out directly: “Bacchus, the gluttonous god, speaks with his disciple Martin Luther: you must not watch fasting in the regiments, and eat meat during fasting... You are a liar, gluttonous and drunken to Bacchus, and you are alien to feast of Christ" 28 Both Cupid, “the god of carnal lust,” and Venus, “the goddess of carnal deeds,” 29, “the goddess of fornicators,” 30 are rude Muscovite demons, and not the gods of antiquity. Here is a trial of “pseudo-new” morals, an angry condemnation of the “most drunken council.” “After drinking red drinks, drink the cup of burning resin and brimstone, the cup of the wrath of God!” 31 – these words are addressed to the king, although they are hidden in the interpretation of the parable. It is no coincidence that St. Demetrius Stefan Yavorsky, in a sermon on the confiscation of church property, recalled the feast of Belshazzar, where “the king and his nobles drank from the vessels of the church.” “Remember that you do not imagine this: you will drink from those vessels the bitter wormwood of the wrath of God!” 32 And Arseny Matsievich, Metropolitan of Rostov, fighting under Catherine for the inviolability of church property, was right in referring to the authority of St. Dimitri. It is from him that we read: “Robberies and thefts of strangers are fire: things that are foreign, and especially spiritual, church, monastic, according to the testimony of the Fatherland and Prologue, where they enter, they are burned like fire, as the robber is not able to enrich himself” 33 . And he says: “Do you want to rob a church? He asked Iliodor, the treasurer of the Syrian king Seleucus, who came to Jerusalem to rob the church and was killed by the hands of angels” 34. From the point of view of the West, what is a schism if not a kind of Moscow ignorance, under the guise of extreme conservatism, shaking the foundations of hierarchy and church obedience? “In almost every city, some kind of special faith is invented, and even simple men and women, who are very ignorant of the true path, dogmatize and teach about faith...” 35 St. Demetrius is Western Catholic - in his views on hierarchy, in his irreconcilability towards Protestantism and Asian schismatic inertia. And at the same time, everything in his sermons is filled with the fragrance of ascetic literature of the East. St. was especially loved. Demetrius Rev. John Climacus 36. He borrowed from him a whole series of pictures: carnal lust - an owl, a “bird of the night” 37; demon - fox 38; the mind is the king, the ruler of passions 39. St. Demetrius repeats the allegory of the Climacus, which transfers the world of family and home into the monastic soul: “Mother, be your tenderness... be your brother, who raises you up to the heavenly stream and encourages you. Acquire a concubine - the memory of the death's outcome will not be rejected, but may your dear child have sighs of the heart; slaves acquire their body, and others become holy angels” 40. He repeats from “The Ladder” the definitions of “insensibility” and “sickness” of sin 41. And in sermons we hear the main covenant of mental desire”: “in the name of Jesus, beat the warriors” 42. Twice St. Demetrius repeats the words of St. Macarius of Egypt about the heart that contains all things 43. He quotes the words of St. Ephraim the Syrian on patience 44, Isaac the Syrian on the fear of God 45, refers to St. Isidore Pelusiot 46, Abba Isaiah 47, Mark the Ascetic 48. If we recall the special ascetic-mystical works of St. Demetrius, then it will become completely obvious that his writings continue on Russian soil the traditions of patristic literature: an unbroken thread stretches from Nil Sorsky, through St. Demetrius to St. Tikhon of Voronezh, Rev. Seraphim of Sarov and Theophan the Recluse. These two streams - Western Latin and Eastern ascetic - are joined by St. Demetrius is the third, much less powerful and strong, but still clearly expressed - the stream and element of Chrysostom. Chrysostom's style is completely different from the style of the eastern ascetics-hermits; it is designed for a large urban audience and preserves many of the traditions and techniques of Hellenic eloquence 49 . St. Demetrius cites interpretations of Chrysostom 50 and quotes the following typically Chrysostom passages: “Even if you are unrighteous, the thoughts of a publican. Even if you are unclean, remember the sinner. If you are a thief, look at the thief, hanging with Jesus Christ on the cross. Even if you are lawless,” etc. 51 In the same sermon there is a no less expressive Chrysostom anaphora: “Prayer conquers nature by its power; prayer without weapons defeats enemies visible and invisible; prayer and the Almighty Himself restrains the hand of the one who offers it to take vengeance on sinners, prayer...”, etc. 52 Given by St. Demetrius and those places in which the effect of contrasts and antitheses characteristic of Chrysostom is found: angels, praying, cover their faces, but we, praying, open our sores 53. Those in which a peculiar rhetorical play with verbal forms and concepts takes place, so characteristic of Chrysostom, are not forgotten: for example, the appeal to Arius, whose coffin of the larynx is filled with dead verbs: “Thou shalt not bear the word of this life-giving one, which thy words have created and created” 54 . It is impossible not to point out this metathesis of Chrysostom: “Then there were houses of the church, now the church is a house” 55. And, finally, for such architectural periods: “Glory to the Son is the cross, just as glory is the Son to the Father; The Father is glorified in the Son, the Son is glorified in His cross.” 56 The solemn anaphoric periods and ingenious phrases, almost concetti, are taken by St. Demetrius in Chrysostom. Chrysostom is panegyric. His sermons talk a lot about the heights and splendor of the hierarchy, about the rich and precious. St. Demetrius borrows loud praise from him, such as, for example, to the apostles Peter and Paul: “the pillars of the church, the lamps of the universe, are equal to each other, and the greatest of all creation” 57 . He takes from Chrysostom a comparison of David’s tears with pearls - David’s eyes are decorated with rain of tears “like pearls” or “beads” 58. “Man, with his soul, is the dearest of the whole world; For for his sake, the sky, and the earth, and the sea, and the sun, and the stars are creatures: and the price of the soul is small, great is the price of the blood of Christ, shed for a soul” 59. Gold, pearls, precious stones - St. constantly talks about them. John Chrysostom and St. Dimitri. Panegyric, festive, victorious, oriental luxury was adopted by St. Demetrius in Chrysostom 60. But St. perceived it especially vividly and vividly. Demetrius is the image of fire. The fire of lust and passions in the works of Chrysostom is more picturesque, more rhetorical than the fire that the ascetic writers of the Philokalia speak about. It emphasizes the moments of typical Zlatoust antithetics (fire and water extinguishing the fire), the motives of victory, trampling, triumph. St. Demetrius quotes: “You see not the burning coal offered, but you see the kindled flame of lust. These [martyrs] trample the burning coals, you trample the fire of nature; When you fight with animals, you curb the anger of a furious and indomitable beast” 61. “Just as water quenches a fire that has been kindled, a word spoken with meekness quenches the soul with anger more than a burning furnace” 62. The image of fire, the fire of Gehenna in particular, St. Demetrius in other sermons developed in the direction of maximum materiality and concreteness: the smoke and soot of hell, dark, non-luminous burning fire 63. But he also turned to a direct quotation from Chrysostom. In general, despite the abundance of quotations, Chrysostom is too rhetorical, too socially moralistic for St. Dimitri. St. Dimitri is a mystic, this should not be forgotten. And not everything he has is from the homiletical school and tradition. Here is not only the scholasticism of Poland and Rome, not only the literature of the East, here is the mystical experience of the righteous. The word “mystical” is used by him: “Gadaru, in mystical understanding, understands the existence of this damned world” 64 . He talks about “mystical goldsmiths” 65 and about the “mystical sky” - the eyes of the Christ Child 66. Synonyms for “mystical” are the words “mysterious” and “mental”: “between those mysterious grapes” 67, etc. Correlative to the mystical, mysterious, and mental are “mental scratchings” on the part of the cognizing subject 68 . Hence this frequent oratorical technique of “vision”, a picture description: “I see two sides of a sitting before a dispute” 69, “We see the smart eyes of our seller and merchant” 70, “Looking at the material cross of my Lord, I see the royal title written on it” 71, “I look again at the city of Jerusalem and at its outskirts, I see the mental Jonathan The Heavenly Prince, Christ our Savior” 72, etc. Often the vision is complicated by the bizarre form of “looking through a telescope.” “I look at it from afar with intelligent eyes, but I look at it from a perspective, reading a pipe, interpreting Divine Scripture” 73 . “I look also through perspective through the Revelation of St. John the Evangelist" 74. “Let us look through the perspective of St. John the Theologian, that is, through the Apocalypse” 75. The language of St. Demetrius is the language of a seer, and his sermons are nothing more than expanded visiones. St. Demetrius uses the texts of the Gospel read in litursha. But these texts are most often the starting point of a sermon, the germ of a visual image, and not the subject of exegesis. A symbol grows from texts. Thus, the image of a ladder is given by the text of the Sunday Gospel in the first week of Great Lent: “From here on, you will see the heavens open” 76, - “I have built a spiritual ladder from virtues, I will put it to the open heaven” 77. The two “sides” of the ladder are abstinence and repentance; “from here”, ἀπ’ ἂρτι – “from here the holy forty days” 78 . Old researchers reproached the southern Russian and Polish preachers of the 17th century for replacing exegesis with the arbitrary use of the text for rhetorical purposes. Yu. Samarin, in his famous dissertation, wrote about Stefan Yavorsky: “Having chosen a text for himself, he rarely pays attention to what is essential in it. Usually he takes one side of it and stops at some random circumstance” 79. There is no need to cite all the huge number of critical statements of this kind. These judgments are generated either by misunderstanding or complete indifference to the peculiarities of the style being studied. St. Demetrius, like a saint, was protected from direct attacks. But due to a misunderstanding, Samarin criticized his sermon, believing that he was criticizing Stefan Yavorsky 80. They criticized without mercy Thomas Mlodzianowski, the inspirer of St. Dimitri; this was considered acceptable in relation to a Catholic. They condemned Anthony Radivilovsky, Lazar Baranovich, Ioannikiy Golyatovsky. They inked the memory of a friend of St. Demetrius, Stefan Yavorsky 81, whom Rev. Filaret of Chernigov did not hesitate to call him blessed. All this was said about others, but in many ways it indirectly affected St. Dimitri. And of course, this touches on such tricks of exegesis: the saint quotes the words of Archdeacon Stephen - “I see the heavens open and Jesus standing at the right hand of God” 82. “Why does a standing person see Jesus, and not a sitting one? Isn’t it written in the Symbol: ascending into heaven and sitting at the right hand of the Father? I was sitting, got up, why?” 83 It is instructive to recall here the review of Metropolitan Philaret: “St. Demetrius is truly great in his own spiritual writings. It’s a pity that his sermons were subject to the influence of the modern taste of eloquence” 84. The pomp and baroque style of St. Demetrius quickly became incomprehensible, and already in the 15th-3rd century it was necessary to “correct” and “clean up” the saint’s style, and not only in relation to Polonisms and Ukrainianisms. The text of the Bible does not lie with St. Demetrius into the basis of the sermon, as an object of exegetical analysis. The text gives impetus to the emergence of a vision. St. Dimitri takes accidens, not differentiam specificam, and draws the development of the theme from it. So, tears are usually a sign of emotional excitement. But St. Dimitri focuses on their moisture, their connection with the element of water - with rain and clouds. “Tears are flowing from the eyes of Christ, rain is falling from the sky... Our Lord comes to lead us to heaven. He sees a flaming weapon at the doors of paradise, sharpens water from his eyes like a source of tear water, in order to thereby extinguish the fiery Cherubic sword” 85. Or in a sermon at the beginning of the Swedish war we meet: “The clouds and thunder, which we hear and see in heaven, come from nothing else, according to philosophical wisdom, but from phlegm, and vapors and spirits that the sun expels from the bodies of the earth, and lifts up grief: if we will, may the Lord thunder from heaven, and the Most High will give his voice, and send down arrows, and inflame the enemies, and the lightning will multiply and crush them; it is appropriate to let out tearful phlegm from the eyes.” For from the tears of prayer against enemies there come “thunders and lightning and confusion” 86 . Or, finally: “There is a mysterious heart in a person, from which the flame of love emanates; and the eyes are like a mysterious cloud, from which the rain of tears pours out” 87. At St. Demetrius's visual image is the reference point, the grain of the sermon. From it a sermon-vision develops, and transitions from one part to another are figurative transitions, tangible to the eye. This is a significant difference between St. Demetrius from other preachers, about whom we will have to talk. It is enough to cite the example of Metropolitan Plato, whose sermons are cemented by rational transitions. Thus, in the sermon on the power to knit and decide (1769) 88 we have a gradual disclosure of the concept of “freedom”: natural, moral, Evangelical, ecclesiastical freedom. The entire sermon is essentially just an explication of the concept introduced at the beginning by the text of Scripture. Even where the sermon is based on a consistent analogy (parallelism) of the physical and spiritual, the rational construction makes itself felt. In the sermon on the Assumption 89, dedicated to the analogy of sleep and death, the moments of the symbolizing picture are subordinated to rational schemes, and we have the following order of them: the cause of sleep - going to sleep - the onset of sleep - the state of body and soul in sleep - babies crying before going to bed - awakening - peace of mind in sleep - dressing upon awakening - a voice awakening from sleep - the imperceptibility of the transition from sleep to wakefulness – loss of the sense of time in a dream – calm and disturbing sleep. The image is subordinated here to logical argumentation, and the symbols are subordinated to illustration. The order of sensory phenomena is adapted to an abstract structure. There is no coherent picture of the dream here. At St. Demetrius has a sermon based on the text: “Prepare the way of the Lord” 90. A detailed allegorical picture of engineering emerges from the text. When they prepare the way for the king, “where there is cramped space, they spread there; where the land is swampy, bridges are paved, the heights of the hills are leveled with the ground, the depths of the wilds are filled, and all the troubles along the way are made smooth” 91 . The sermon is dedicated to the interpretation of this picture: “crowdedness” - oppression of conscience, “hills and mountains” - proud thoughts that are dug up “with the hoe of grave memory” 92, abysses - despair 93, “our impurity is dried up by abstinence, and bridges are paved with “alms” 94. In another, already mentioned, sermon, the saint builds a spiritual ladder “compiled from virtues.” And here, as the sermon develops, the image develops: first, a place is sought where both bowstrings or beams can be established, that is, abstinence and repentance, then the beams are placed, and only then are we talking about steps 95. St. Demetrius does not illustrate through a symbol, like Plato, but interprets and deciphers the symbol. In the process of its interpretation, more and more new meanings are born, the symbol gives sprouts and branches. In other words, if rhetorical inventio is based on a concept in Plato, then in St. Dimitri is on the image. Everything develops from one concrete, sensory-spiritual, figurative “vision”. In a sermon on “ashes-repentance,” the main ideas are drawn from a sequential consideration of the various properties of the subject. “What's worse than ashes? Who is looking for taste in the ashes? Who wants to eat ashes? Sitsa and repentance are not tasty for sin-loving people” 96. These properties of ashes are replaced by others: “If you sprinkled ashes in someone’s eyes, will he be pleased? Remember repentance to the sinner, will he love you?” 97. It goes on to say: “fire is kept in ashes: in repentance the fire of love for God is found” 98 . On the same page it is stated: “With ashes, dishes and vessels are cleaned, even if they are tin, or copper, or silver... And through holy repentance, sinners are cleansed, and they brighten like the sun before the eyes of God.” And finally: “Ashes, dissolved with warm water, are a fair ablution, called ash or lye, which people are accustomed to wash their heads and whole bodies, and certain clothes; “Every dirt washes away with good” 99. The symbolizing image here is the subject of semantic movement, the development of the theme follows the development of the image. The path is from the symbolized to the symbolized, and not vice versa, as in Plato’s sermon on sleep. It is important that such development makes it possible to make digressions and deviations from the main direction of the sermon, digressions that are then only more firmly woven into its main fabric. Thus, beginning to speak about the Most Pure Virgin, the saint notes: “That word, Virgin, as spoken by the lips, came to my mind the five wise virgins remembered in the Gospel” 100 . The mention of “wise virgins” leads the thought to “the wisest of all, in whom the treasures of the wisdom and mind of God are hidden,” i.e., again to the Mother of God 101. And finally, the wisdom of the Most Pure One leads to the image of the feast of Sophia the Wisdom 102, which is the main subject of the sermon. Thus, the image of wise virgins, introduced, it seemed, solely by association (“do they come to mind”), turns out to be a strictly determined link in the movement from the Virgin Mary to Sophia the Wisdom. We find especially complex “associative”, outwardly random, internally determined transitions in the teaching on the 15th week after Pentecost, which can serve as a model that most clearly reveals the features of the saint’s sermons. The sermon is based on the text: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy soul, with all thy heart, and with all thy mind” 103 . The sermon begins with the identification of love and fire 104. But such an identification still leaves us completely in the dark about the further development of preaching. By asking a series of questions, the author seems to be groping for the path: light and fire, warmth and fire. These themes of love-light and love-warmth are discarded and replaced by a new question: “Does courage burn with fire?” “Love is fire, scorch the unworthy,” and this thought does not yet reveal the theme. Nor does the question illuminate it: “Does wax melt in the face of fire?” And only the next question brings us closer to it. “Does the fiery flame burn in the sky? and seeks the love of the highest.” Of all the aspects of fire, the aspect of upward movement and kinship with the sky stands out. “That fire, the fire of love, our Savior brought to us from heaven: fire, he said, came and returned to earth” 105. The “plot” of the sermon is the search for firewood for this heavenly fire, for even fire sent from heaven “does not burn without arson.” After a digression about the fire that descended from above on “the sacrifices of Moses and Aaron” and burned in the Old Testament tabernacle, the saint decides to go “for firewood into the forest, or into the garden of Divine Scripture.” The image of the Phoenix serves as a means of new retardation, but it also leads to a sermon plan. The phoenix burns at the stake of fragrant wood, and the sought-after mystical “firewood” receives a more precise definition: “we are looking for fragrant wood, not smoky stench.” The convergence of the Phoenix with the crucifixion of Christ allows us to further narrow the search; “these are the fragrant woods from which the cross of Christ was made: cedar, pine, cypress.” This outlines the three main parts of the sermon. The text from the Bible 106 translates all three trees into the plan of sacred geography: “In Lebanon there are cedars, in Aermon there are cypresses, in the seaside there are dates.” The path ahead of the homiletical journey becomes clear. “I am going with my mind to these countries, and first to the desert of Lebanon to the fragrant cedar.” Lebanon is in the region of the king of Tire. Therefore, on his way the saint passes Zarephath, where he meets a widow collecting firewood, the one whom Elijah the prophet once met. Only by giving a symbolic interpretation of this biblical episode, and after that of Sarepta, Tire and Lebanon, does the saint come to the cedars. Here, in Lebanon, in the cedar forest, Saint David “went into silence to sing the Psalter.” What follows is an interpretation of the texts of the Psalms containing mention of cedars. But the Psalter and David are passing auxiliary images. The central words are the words of Wisdom about herself: “I, like a cedar, rose up in Lebanon” 107 . There follows a detailed interpretation of the symbol “cedar-wisdom”, “cedar-eternity” with references to Pliny and the Bible. With two new transitions, the sermon returns to the main topic: firstly, the transition from the immortal cedar-shaped wisdom of God to the immortal cedar-shaped souls, to “righteous souls, like the cedars of Lebanon multiplied,” and secondly, the questions, how to cut down those cedars? The answer is found in the words of Psalm 28:5: “by the voice of the Lord who breaks the cedars.” “What is the voice of the Lord that is so strong that without an iron weapon it breaks great cedars into firewood and logs?” The answer is found in the text underlying the sermon: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy soul.” So, along the winding paths of wanderings in the forest of the symbols of St. Dimitri comes to the starting point - to an initial thought enriched with new content. All these retreats and slowdowns truly create the impression of wandering and searching. The first log was found, dedicated to God the Father. An excerpt from a sermon on Trinity (1698) about two fires in the Tabernacle 108 is inserted into the discussion about wise love. Only after this does the saint place the “mysterious tree” on the altar of the heart. The entire part ends with secret prayer calls. The second part - about cypress - has fewer digressions than the first. After the symbolic interpretation of Aermon, an interpretation of the cypress is given: “In the most ancient cypress was a sign of death; like the cedar of immortality, the cypress of death, hieroglyphic and spelling.” A number of examples follow and the application of cypress to the death of Christ. Then there is a transition to the text: “Thou shalt love the Lord with all thy heart,” to the interpretation of which most of this section is devoted. The third part - about the date on the seaside - is modeled after the first two: the sacred-geographical interpretation of the seaside of Cadiz, the symbolic interpretation of the date and the text: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy mind” 109 and “with all thy strength” 110 the sermon ends with a meditation on the constancy of warm love and the invocation of the Holy Spirit in the images of Fire and Wind. Putting together what has been said, it is not difficult to see that constant retreats go hand in hand with movement forward and turn out to be, in essence, the most necessary links. Instead of a rational straight line, we have a baroque winding line. Graphically, the movement of the sermon could be depicted as follows: The concentrating, centripetal movement of the sermon with an increasingly smaller “scope” of digressions is felt even in the retelling. But some numbers can be cited in support: 246 lines of text are dedicated to cedar, 160 to cypress, and 100 lines of text to dates. Despite all the external diversity, a coherent, holistic visio is obtained. For visual purposes, St. Demetrius is also characterized by his appeal in some sermons to the icon of the holiday. Generally speaking, the sacred objects of the church and the sacred moments of worship hardly participate in his sermons. The icon is the only church object in the field of his words. His sermon on the day of the Most Holy Trinity, St. Demetrius begins with the icon: “... bowing and kissing the holy icon, on which the Holy Trinity in three angelic faces is depicted, as if I see the Holy Trinity not on the throne of the Cherubim in heaven, but at the table of Abraham under the green oak of Mamre, sitting on the earth” 111. Similar mentions of the holiday icon in attacks of 112 words on the feast of the Kazan Mother of God 113, on the day of the judgment of St. Archangel Michael 114, on the day of St. Great Martyr Catherine 115. In the last word, the icon image of the saint - a virgin with a cross in her hands - becomes the theme. Equally impressively bright are those beloved in the 16th–17th centuries. bestiary images. These images are clothed in the form of clairvoyance. When St. Demetrius speaks of bestiality, but in his words there is no conventional allegory or adherence to Polish-scholastic canons. (“You need to read books about animals, birds, reptiles, fish,” wrote the teacher of St. Demetrius Ioannikis Galatovsky in his “Key of Understanding”). In any case, this is not all that is contained here. Here are echoes of werewolfism, a glimpse of the noumenal characters of the creature. St. Demetrius imitates Chrysostom and develops his thought. But what if not a vision of “bestial Muscovy” in his words: “And you, Saint Alexis of Christ, stand before the throne of God, and look after your flock, the Russian people of Moscow, what do you see in your flock? Do you see many sheep? Do you not see, instead of sheep, bears that please their bellies, mesks that thicken their flesh, horses that neigh at wives, camels that remember malice, wolves that snatch away strangers, serpents that are fiercely angry, scorpions that bite their neighbors, vipers that carry malice with poison, and the very demons in the flesh who are like God? Are they afraid, neither are people ashamed, nor do they venerate shrines, nor do they long for salvation, nor do they tremble at torment?” 116. It would be tempting to see in the animal forms shown by St. Demetrius, just a tribute to the passing Middle Ages. But the more discerning will understand that the saint’s descriptions of animals are not a literary template. Truly there is an animal element in man, and “swishness” is more than a simple metaphor: some social relationships are truly swinish, and truly there is an animal and a beast in man. And even in a “civilized” person, not everything can “rise” above the level of the animal. After all, beavers know how to build dams, and bees know how to build a “rationalized” home for their offspring. “Not by being, but by disposition”, according to the saint, a “mysterious transformation into a beast” occurs 117. Animal traits are a product of the inner world of man. Zoosiivolika St. Demetrius is part of the physiognomy of the soul, the physiognomy of the “inner face.” In the Chronicle of St. Demetrius, however, there are traces of a more materialized idea of ​​beast-likeness. The saint cites an apocrypha about Hoe, who, planting a vine, watered its roots with the blood of a lion, a pig, a lamb and a monkey, and “the vine received strength from the blood of those animals whose morals act in those who drink wine” 118. There we also read about mothers feeding babies with “cattle milk”: “with the milk, bestial morals enter into babies, and babies, when they come to age, have a similar disposition to cattle” 119. After these words, we understand that the animal psyche is invisibly diffused in the world, penetrating the very substance. The psyche of the animal world is absorbed, like something material, by the human soul, infused into his blood. The field of the animal world is not limited to zoology. The dullness and rigidity of man is from the beast. All the abomination of being abandoned by God is in this bestial soul, for “where people do not have God before their eyes, there are pigs and demons” 120. The pig is not only an object of zoology and animal husbandry, and not only the protagonist of an always rational fable. There are ontological threads connecting it with the inner world of man and the world of invisible spirits 121. Animals at St. Dimitria is not an animal. These are playful categories of grace-filled and graceless existence, corresponding to various degrees of spiritual decline or grace, categories that are clearly tangible and visible to the eye. St. Dimitri emphasizes the clarity and tangibility of his images and, at the same time, is not afraid of a broad and deep allegory. He narrates how in the Melitino church, through the accidentally unlocked royal doors, “a certain great boar, both terrible and stinking (not a ghost, but the prophetic boar itself), with its ears and tail cut off,” entered and lay down on a high place in the altar. It is emphasized: “not by a ghost, but by the prophetic itself,” and at the same time - “If in your heart, instead of your beloved Christ, there lies a boar or a pig, the love of which is a harlot, if your disposition is a boar, and your life is swinish: then you know that this is a known sign that Christ will not be in you” 122. From here, from this materiality, there is one step to werewolfhood. He who waits for his neighbor is a “barking dog.” “O blind Pharisee, you thought you were a good man, but you are a dog barking at your neighbor; and you neither see nor understand your dogged disposition in yourself” 123. All these images of pigs, wolves, and evil dogs find their completion in the image of the serpent. Ziya St. Dimitri is always a colorful and picturesque serpent. This is not the serpent of Eden in the mystical form in which it is known to Eastern ascetics; it is rather the serpent of Russian Apocalyptic frescoes. According to St. Macarius of Egypt, “the serpent lurks under the very mind, in the depths of thoughts, nests and kills us in the so-called hiding places and repositories of the soul” 124. “The same serpent who cast out Adam... and now puts arrogance in the heart” 125. At St. Demetrius the serpent is either a bizarre monster of the Apocalypse, or a serpent from zoology, visible to the eye. Having likened a man who condemns his neighbor to a dog, the saint likens him after that to “a little serpent crawling and accidentally biting in the grass and bravado” 126 “Pliny the naturalist” makes it possible to develop this allegory: “the serpent’s sting, even though it is seen as one, is both threefold, divided into three, and three together in one place creates plagues" 127. Or: “Pliny writes that in Africa there is such a zia that when it bites a person, it sucks the blood from the whole body and survives; So our poisonous sin struck You, Christ the Savior, that He drank and poured out all the blood from You” 128. The nature of the images remains the same where exotic tigers and elephants appear instead of pigs, dogs and wolves. “The storytellers of nature say about the tiger that it really does not like the tympanum’s voice and becomes so enraged by its voice that it kills itself by biting and tormenting itself... Don’t hit the tympanum, don’t irritate the tiger. Stop from cruel words, your enemy will stop from anger. The natural philosophers say the same about the elephant, that if someone who is irritated by anything can be tamed, only by the voice of the singing of the music... Love your enemy; with evil words you do not irritate him, like with the tympanum of a tiger; The same image of a tiger enraged by a tympanum is repeated in another sermon, delivered in 1705 in the village of Preobrazhenskoye in the presence of Peter: “an angry man, like a tympanum voice, with which he is enraged by nasty words, is tormented by his heart, gritting his teeth, biting his fingers” 130. Was it not Peter himself who seemed to be in this image of a man gnawing his fingers in anger? The higher we climb the ladder of the symbolic animal world and the closer we approach the air element, the more often tautegorical language is replaced by allegorical language: ontological kinship by blood is replaced by symbolic allegory, in which the distance between the symbol and the symbolized is noticeable. The dove is a symbol of the Church and a symbol of the soul 131, the spirit is the main meaning of the allegory of the dove. But the dove is not an incarnation or transformation (metamorphosis) of the Spirit, similar to the transformation of a fallen soul forgetting itself in the animal element. “The Holy Spirit appeared in the form of a dove, and with its cries carried away those who wanted to enter the dwellings of heaven” 132. Neither the Spirit nor the soul becomes a dove, although they are “doves”, although the dove is the bearer of spiritual elements; The images of the animal world here are not diverse forms of being of creatures, but a form of discovery of spiritual life - indicated, but not depicted or reflected. A strange bird of ancient legends, a favorite fantastic creature of bestiaries - the burning and resurrecting phoenix - is often recalled in the sermons of St. Demetrius 133. The saint is little interested in the question of the real existence of the phoenix. “Whether this is the truth or neither, I do not test,” he says about the legend, “this well-known truth, like the mental Phoenix of our Lord Jesus Christ, indescribable lover to man, embraced, gathering fragrant wood, cedar, pine, cypress, and carrying his shoulders up the hill of Mount Golgotha with his shoulders, and like a Phoenix stacked in a stack, and like a Phoenix shouted, arms outstretched, with a flame of love, always from Luke to us, lay down your soul for us on the cross” 134. And this image of a bird, perhaps only imaginary, by the saint’s own admission, becomes a rule [for] imitation, a mystical archetype. “If we want to be kindled with love for Christ in kindling with each other, we look for fragrant wood, not smoky arrogance, but fragrant substances, we lay it on the hill of the heart, we stretch out the wing of faith and love directly stretched out the hand of the Lord on the Cross, so that from that fiery fire we too will be kindled with love” 135. Images of birds are not plastic faces-characters of a creature, like images of creatures, but shadows of what is invisible to the eye, images as elusive as air 136 . And just as the world of sin found its completion in the serpent, so the entire world of spiritual zoology finds its completion in the Lamb. “Who is worthy to receive the book of God’s mysteries with gifts and seals? Quiet Lamb. Who is worthy of being praised and worshiped by the heavenly Powers? Gentle Lamb. Who is strong enough to defeat these terrible and fierce beasts from the sea, from the earth, from the abyss? Meek Lamb... Who rules above and below? Patient, the slain Lamb" 137. That Lamb who “was born in a beast’s seat in Bethlehem, and was laid down in a manger” 138. He takes on the image of the Lamb from St. Demetrius has an exceptionally deep meaning also because that book, the focus of which is the warfare of the Lamb with the rebellious forces of evil - the Apocalypse - is one of the main sources of his preaching inspiration. The whole cycle of apocalyptic images: a two-edged sword coming from the mouth of God, and a book consumed by a seer, and Christ “at the door” - is repeated again and again in his sermons. But the Apocalypse of the saint is alien to historical eschatology. These are timeless visions, insights through the veil of the eternal world. The events of the Apocalypse are eternally taking place in some kind of smart space. The two who play the most significant role in St. Demetrius's apocalyptic visions - of a woman clothed with the sun and twenty-four elders - are timeless. The bright woman, persecuted by the devil-serpent, is both the Church of Christ, and the soul of every Christian 139 and the Mother of God, who in the most evil time “like the sun rises to help us” 140, who trampled all the vanities of the world - “the changing and impoverished moon” 141 -. The appearance of a woman clothed in the sun is not a prophecy of the future, or more precisely, not only a prophecy, but a symbol of an eternal event, mysteriously revealed in history and the soul. This is also the vision of the elders offering praises before the throne of the Lambs. In it is a vision of the eternal palace. “Saint John the Theologian desired to look into the court of the Heavenly King, and to see the deanery of that court; looks and sees the Throne of God in great and ineffable glory" 142. Right there with the Lord “and His heavenly rank, heavenly assistance, twenty-four elders, important senators, venerable old men, who sit honestly around the majesty of God, around the throne of the Lamb, and the harp is in their hands” 143. And when they bow, they place their “crowns” before God 144. Here the “sea” is glass, strangely reminiscent of a palace parquet: “The nobles of the Heavenly King offered the slippery, glass, crystal and icy sea for danger and fear, so that with fear and humility of the Lord they stand before theirs and walk meekly” 145. The whole picture is completed by the mention of angelic “heavenly concerts”: “and the choir is controlled by the Holy Archangel Gabriel, beating to the beat of the lily that does not fade even in winter” 146. For Anthony of Radivilovsky, John the Baptist was the “marshal” of the Lord and collected the “free co6op”, the angels and those close to David were called “nobles” by him, and John the Theologian was the “secretary of heaven” 147. The Pole Mlodzianowski called the apostles the Senate, the Apostolic Commonwealth, the four evangelists are the four chancellors, etc. 148 But such “temporality” and “historicity,” seemingly reflecting the Polish court like in a mirror, in fact only further emphasizes the eternal nature of what is being seen. These are not the pastures of Osiris and not the houris of Mohammed, created in the earthly image and likeness, not a projection of their era and their world into eternity, these are ideas. Here is evidence of that eternal, which with its eternity and universality permeates all forms and all times, can be seen in these forms and retold in this language. For the apocalyptic angels command “every creature in heaven and on earth, and under the earth and in the sea, to prepare greetings and servile bow to a certain Royal Person who is on the throne of God.” 149 To everyone in their own language and in their own way, in the language of their era and country - greetings “colored”, personal. At St. Demetrius's apocalyptic visions are as much connected with the future as with the past. At the beginning of time, Lucifer 150 slipped on the icy sea of ​​the heavenly kingdom, and the elders, “having taken up their harps, played to the little Child” in the den of Bethlehem 151. Apocalypse is a “perspective” or telescope through which a person looks at eternal entities 152. And the real present emanates from the incantatory words of the saint addressed to the apocalyptic serpent: “lying dead, infecting cattle!” 153 At St. Demetrius - gradations, hierarchy of the cosmos - not time and not history. The preacher wanders like a warrior along the timeless “ladder of creatures” - the movement takes place in a motionless space, where everything is given at once and is only considered in gradual succession, as parts of a picture. The layout of the staircase, the movement with ledges, the principle of gradations are typically Baroque. Ladders of St. Demetrius intricately combines the features of Western Baroque with the influences of the East, with such works of ascetic literature as, for example, “The Ladder” of St. John Climacus. “The Angel is beautiful, the most beautiful Archangel, above the most beautiful Archangel there are the highest ranks, above those Cherubim, above the Cherubim the most beautiful Seraphim, whose beauty can any earthly tongue confess? Oh, how incomparably, above all the ranks of Angels, the most beautiful Creator! O beauty indescribable, incomprehensible to the human mind!” 154. We find a ladder structure in some sermons, for example, in the teaching on the consecration of the church 155. St. Demetrius begins it with a memory of Jacob's stone at Bethel. “Could anyone have thought: this is not a great thing, it is not much pleasing to God, it is not a fair offering to the Lord, but one stone should be erected.” Meanwhile, “God has not forgotten one reed that was placed in a pillar and called the house of God.” The following conclusion follows: if one stone was so pleasing to God, “how much more so would a whole church built from many stones.” Then the sermon rises to the next level. We are talking about decorating churches. The saint recalls the Old Testament tabernacle, which was decorated not only with precious things, but also with “sheepskins and goatskin.” And this part of the sermon ends with the same conclusion: “how much more is it pleasing to God that we believe in an adornment that is not wretched, not stingy, not stingy.” The two steps are followed by a third, even higher one - the Temple of Solomon. But even this, moving higher, the saint passes by, for the old covenant is only a shadow of the new. And finally, the last step - the Capernaum Church - leads to the final praises and wishes for many years: “Hello, noble Master...”, sounding as if from the height to which the sermon rose. Graphically, the sermon outline looks something like this: The saint deeply comprehended the secret of such growth, ascent, expansion to infinity. Interpreting the words of the Christmas song “Nativity Scene,” St. Demetrius dives into Hebrew philology. Moses called the sky “Shamain” - watery or watery. The bottomless waters over which the Spirit of God floats are called Shama. And these strange-sounding words complete the magnificent ladder of growth. “Christ is the source of the waters of animals.” Moreover: “What am I saying, source! There is a river; for from his belly shall flow rivers, rivers of living waters" 156 . “But this is not enough. He is a sea of ​​bottomless depth, the depth of the wisdom and mind of God" 157. This sea of ​​wisdom expands to the vast immensity of the ocean, and the entire ladder is crowned with a mysterious call: “I call upon the unsearchable abyss of your mercy, the Shama of bottomless water!” 158 The idea of ​​cosmic hierarchy underlies the aesthetics of St. Demetrius, set forth by him in his speech on the Exaltation. Here the beauty of the physical world, the beauty of the soul and the beauty of God are distinguished. “Created beauty” is only a reflection and reflection of the incomprehensible beauty of the Divine. Along the ladder of creatures we ascend to the supreme Unit, God, the source of all beauty. “God, like all wisdom, wisdom and all beauty, is the Source, and His beauty from the most beautiful creatures can be partially achieved by us” 159. “The sky is red, at night adorned with stars and the moon; red in the days of the sun, illuminating the universe, illumined: oh, the most red Creator, who created this!” 160 Closeness to God forms the basis of the aesthetic hierarchy: the more distinct and perfect the image of God in creation, the more beautiful it is. Therefore, the human soul, the only one created in the image and likeness of God, is higher and more beautiful than the angels 161. The human soul “is more beautiful than the kindness of heaven, more than the radiance of the stars, the moon, the sun, and more than the beauty of the Angel, Archangel, Cherubim, Seraphim, similar to the very beauty of the Creator” 162. From incomprehensible Beauty light pours into all creatures - through the soul to the body. The beauty of the body is the reflected beauty of the soul. “Like a lantern that has a lighted candle in it, it is enlightened and shines, and shines in the darkness of the night: but a lantern that does not have a lighted candle in itself is dark, neither itself is illuminated, nor does it shine with frost. In the same way, a person, like a lantern, has a soul in him, even if it is kindled by love for God and shines with good deeds, his face becomes bright and sculpted; God’s true grace occurs within him and on his face” 163. Contemplation of the cosmos St. Demetrius - contemplation of a motionless, unchanging pyramid, along which the contemplator ascends from the earth to the luminaries and angels. “Beautiful is the Angel, the most beautiful Archangel, above the most beautiful Archangels are the highest ranks, above those Cherubim, above the Cherubim the most beautiful Seraphim, whose beauty can any earthly tongue confess? Oh, how incomparably, above all the ranks of Angels, the most beautiful Creator! O beauty indescribable, incomprehensible to the human mind" 164. But the entire material mass of images, all the rows of steps going up into the heights cannot yet achieve the unspeakable. The ineffable Unit remains inaccessible and inaccessible: “A human secret, when you tell it once, twice, to one, to another, everyone will already know it completely; and the sacraments of God, the more you say and talk about them, the more you preach them to the greatest number, the essence is the most secret, the most difficult, the most incomprehensible” 165. The architectonic symbol breaks down, cracks, and symbolic correspondences are replaced by lyrically confused speech. “Effects or passions,” wrote friend and like-minded St. Demetrius Stefan Yavorsky, - they put a lot of emphasis on decorating the word, and without emotions the word is not sweet, as if it becomes withered and rotten. In the same way, affects are like the soul of the word, or the salt of the meal, without which the word is dead and not sweet” 166. An excited thought searches for an adequate o6paaa and piles up symbols in a vain search. The Mother of God - Ladder, Bush, Tablet, Aaron's Rod, Ark, Table, Golden Stamna bearing manna, Watered Fleece, Impenetrable Mountain, Impenetrable Door. And then - sky, paradise, maiden, mother, earth, vine, tree, source, sea 167. Asyndeta 168 was seen as a characteristic feature of the Baroque style. But to an even greater extent they can be considered a distinctive feature of all mysticism. It is enough to cite the following passage from the Monk Macarius of Egypt: “And this is He himself, who becomes everything in you, and is for you - paradise, the tree of life, beads, a crown, a steward, a farmer, the sufferer, the impassive, a man, God, wine, living water, a sheep, a bridegroom, a warrior, a weapon - everything in all is Christ” 169 . Or: “He is the way, the life, the truth, the door, the pearl, the living and heavenly bread” 170. At St. We meet Demetrius as follows: “She is the Queen in heaven, the Lady on earth, the Lady of the heavenly powers, the praise of virgins, the crown of martyrs, the teacher of the Apostles; she is the mirror of preachers, the prophecy of Prophets, the expectation of Patriarchs, she is also a treasure of all virtues” 171. And in the same sermon: “In it there is the faith of the Patriarchs, the hope of the Prophets, the zeal of the Apostles, the strength of the Martyrs, the wisdom of the Teachers, the truth of the Confessors, the purity of virgins” 172. Researchers see one of the distinctive features of literary baroque in the feeling of inexhaustibility and inexpressibility of content, in the constant need to look for new forms of expression for the same thought, in the constant re-expression of immense and elusive content. A striking example is the following passage from the saint’s sermon: “Can anyone cool a great furnace that has been kindled with a single handful of water? Can anyone, with some small drop of tears, extinguish the fire of hell that is prepared for him? Can anyone, in the darkest midnight, illuminate the whole of heaven with one small kindled light? Can anyone, through pity for the sins of small ones, illuminate the pitch darkness prepared for themselves with a little light? Can anyone sweeten all the ocean's sorrow with a single spoonful of honey? Can anyone who is saddened by our sins please God with a brief moment of tenderness and receive forgiveness?” 173 The form of expression used by St. Demetrius - according to the Baroque, “open”, unclosed and incomplete, leading to infinity. Hence this presence of untouched possibilities as a background, these praetertiones 174 that outline side paths that disappear somewhere away from the main theme. In the exordium of the sermon on the day of remembrance of St. Peter the Metropolitan, the saint speaks of the three virtues of the lamb: meekness, humility and gentleness. “It is imperative at this hour,” he continues in the proposition, “to talk about the one first virtue remembered (others for the future, if the Lord pleases, and we will live, having put aside times) about meekness” 175. In the exordium of another sermon 176 we talk about the race of Christ and the birth of Christ - the two main chapters of the book of the kinship of Jesus. “We will postpone this other main thing for the coming holiday of the Nativity of Christ, and now we will consider the first one” 177. This is a technique that emphasizes the incongruence of form and content: the content does not fit into the framework of the sermon, which, as it were, cuts out a piece, a fragment in an indefinitely broad content that lies beyond its boundaries. The sermon becomes like a window into boundless reality. The conclusions of some sermons highlight this openness and openness of form even more clearly. The sermon about the apostles Peter and Paul - the pillars of fire and cloud - is open: at the end of it the saint hints at a number of analogies and likenings, which are not further developed: “won’t there be enough time for me to tell the story” 178. “I would also like to offer the best taste of your love,” sounds in another sermon, “that manna, which God had rained upon the people in the desert, which has every pleasure, but I pity those who are in a hurry to the wasteful meals of today, so that time will not continue with my wretched complacency” 179 . Or in the sermon on Trinity Day: “Having glorified God in our body as masters of the Apostolic science, it would behoove us to learn more broadly, how we can also glorify in our soul. But to the one who gave that time (whom God will allow to live) the albo is left to the prudent executioner” 180. For southern Russian preachers, this technique of outlining new topics at the end of the sermon was a way to intrigue and interest listeners. Ioannikiy Galatovsky in his “Key of Understanding” directly recommended: “If Kazan was chalked up on the Week of the Holy Week, and wanted to still mark the Passion of Christ, having finished his punishment on the Week of the Holy Week, mov: Orthodox Christians, I ask and remind you, quickly devout, went to church, prayed to God, for this year will be terrible court, then having spoken, leave the cathedral; and when the Passion of Christ comes, at that hour put the following theme on the cauldron: Pilate, having heard this word, brought Jesus out and sat before the judge.” At St. Dimitri's reticence, the hint of new, different paths has a deeper meaning. Here is an indication of the inexhaustibility of the content, its “unspeakability”; here is a development that goes into infinity. In this regard, the whole characteristic of another technique is fully revealed: usual for the sermons of St. Demetrius is a form of travel or wandering. Thus, the sermon on the memory of death is presented in the form of a story about wanderings along the shores of the Mediterranean Sea 181, the same are wanderings in search of firewood for a sacred fire 182, a story about the walk of the Kingdom of Heaven through cities and villages 183. Stories about wanderings create a rhapsody of form, make it possible to continue the sermon as far as you like, adding new parts, while maintaining the unity of theme and plan: you cannot foresee where the wanderings will lead, where you can put an end to. Exactly the same compositional possibilities are given by the picture of the fair, to which the merchants - the holy fathers and teachers of the church - came. “The Church’s rich spiritual treasure has been opened to us; Just like at the auction and at the fair, the goods for sale are shown, I say the Divine Scriptures, and the interpretations of those. The priests, the Church Teachers, sit in their places, and from the bags of their books, many beers are poured out before our wise eyes” 184. Here, too, it is not known in advance how many merchants will appear before the eyes of the listeners; the preacher retains complete freedom to increase their number at will, to stretch or shorten the sermon. The sermon is built on the principle of juxtaposition of parts, a spatial series that can be continued as far as desired. The end comes unexpectedly, giving the opportunity to interpolate and discard parts and episodes. It does not grow immanently from the previous one, according to the law of continuity, and with its unexpectedness it emphasizes the openness (unclosedness) of the form. St. Demetrius used another technique in some of his sermons, which also emphasized the incompleteness of the form. This technique is quite similar to what in music is called an interrupted cadence. The sermon on the Annunciation seemed to be completed according to all the rules of homiletics. Meanwhile, St. Demetrius continues: “But not yet an amen, there is still something for the simplest river’s benefit: because, hedgehog verbs, bookish verbs, I don’t want to let the unbooked go without using them” 185. The conclusion (conclusion) turns out to be imaginary and thereby emphasizes the conventionality of the end - from a closed form it turns into an open one, which is even more emphasized by the words of the second final conclusion: “But I no longer want to burden your love with long listening to words during these joyful celebrations” 186, words that cut off, rather than close, the sermon. The method of addressing the “simplest” was already explored by early researchers, but only from, so to speak, an ideological and substantive side 187 . For decades they repeated one idea, forgetting about the other, formal side. Let us note, however, that in this sermon the second part to the “simplest” is not a popular retelling of the first, but develops a new topic. In the sermon on the feast of the Don Mother of God there is a similar interrupted conclusion; the second part of the sermon, addressed to the common people, treats a different topic in a similar way. “And it’s time to end the conversation praising the Most Pure Virgin, it’s time to end with an amen; but I’m confused by a certain thing in my mind. I remember that everything spoken by me as a sinner was not intelligible to uneducated people” 188, etc. With all the lx›6vi of St. Demetrius to architectonic constructions, to three-part, seven-part constructions and the like, with all the symmetry, almost schematism of the structure of the sermon, the form turns out to be inadequate to the content, breaks under the pressure of internal experience and drowns in the ocean of surrounding reality. The form does not embrace the richness of the expressed and turns out to be a light fragment against the dark background of the unexpressed. “When you tell a human secret once again - to one, to another, everyone will completely know it; and the sacraments of God, the more you say and talk about them, the more you preach to them, the more secret they are, the more difficult, the most incomprehensible” 189. “Effects are the soul of words,” wrote Stefan Yavorsky. At St. Demetrius they are his mystical depth. Lyrical exclamations and exclamations from St. Demetrius are not the dramatic and theatrical exclamations of Plato, for whom they are often just amplified concepts, rhetorically dressed syllogisms. They are not intended for listeners and are similar to internal dialogue “to oneself”, a secret prayer accidentally heard. “O holy fire, if you burn sweetly, if you shine secretly, if you burn with desire! Woe to those who do not burn with you, and those who do not shine with you: for one day they will be enveloped in unenlightened darkness, and will be cast into the fire of eternal torment!” 190. Or: “O Wind, quiet and sweet to the Holy Soul, you blow with the breath of your grace” 191. One passage truly sounds like a private prayer to the sweetest Jesus: “O sweetness, above all sweets, Jesus! O love, conqueror of every desire, Jesus! about the bread of heaven! O our immortal saturation! O our eternal delight, Jesus! Whose tongue confesses Thy sweetness? What mind will comprehend the pleasure You act in the hearts that love you? Our joy, joy and sweetness, Jesus! let my enemies flock here to their hands, let them collect stones from all four ends of the universe, let them bring down on me like rain, and hail, and clouds, throwing stones; and I would have neglected all this, so that I might see Your bright face, my Light Jesus!” 192 And despite the open rhapsody of the form, the abundance of extensions, non-union and baroque periphrases, silence dominates everything. Tender peace of contemplation, non-baroque tension of heightened subjectivity - such is the lyrical tone of the saint’s sermons. “... remember... the Metropolitan is quiet and humble,” we read about St. Demetrius in the funeral verses of Stefan Yavorsky 193. Visions float like clouds, and time in the perception of St. Dimitri - the same peace and quiet. He taught his servants and everyone who lived with him to make the sign of the cross and quietly read the prayer “Virgin Mother of God, rejoice...” every time the clock struck. Time was perceived in the quiet contemplation of the monastery as the measured ringing of the chimes of the monastery bell towers. Mip moved away and was contemplated from afar. Sermons of St. Dimitri's speeches were sometimes made on burningly relevant topics. But they have never been journalism, since journalism fights opponents with their own weapons, in the world - with the weapons of the world. At St. Demetrius - frozen contrasts of two worlds. In the letters of St. The Apostle Paul contrasts the Lord's table with the demonic table 194. Picture of the spiritual meal of St. Demetrius makes 195 the theme of one of his sermons. He offers his listeners bread as hard as stone and drink as bitter as the waters of Marah. “If anyone eats with love, the hardness of stone will be transformed into a soft cake with manna, and the sorrow of Marah into sweet honey” 196. Both here and in other sermons the contrast is given ironically. The mystical contrasts with the everyday. The spiritual meal is shown as if in the depths of perspective, surrounded by a halo of distant radiance. And from this other kingdom a verdict is pronounced on the habitual everyday life, its ironic debunking is carried out. The stone and bitterness of the mystical meal appear as something unusual, strange, grotesque. Meanwhile, the edge of irony strikes the familiar, everyday. In the sermon on the week of raw food 197 St. Demetrius deliberately emphasizes the strangeness of the proposed meal: ashes and drinking with tears. “David says in his Psalms: You eat ashes like bread and dissolve mine n and m and e with weeping 198 . Please, please, eat ashes like bread and drink with tears. You say, that meal is not tasty: I answer, it’s not tasty, but it’s healthy” 199. In the same sermon, interpreting the biblical story of Gideon 200, he offers a handful of water “instead of vodka between meals for appetite” and “barley bread dough to snack on vodka” 201. The sermon ends with the words: “I would also like to offer the best instillation of your love, the manna that God would rain upon people in the desert, which has every pleasure: but I pity those who rush to the wasteful meals of today, so that time will not continue with my wretched complacency.” 202 Let us note that the sermon was preached on the week of raw food, that is, on Maslenitsa, in Moscow, in 1706. The sharper the ironic contrast: on the one hand, everyday life, pancakes, drunkenness, and on the other, an ashy meal with drinking from tears. The train of thought everywhere is such that stone, and bitterness, and ashes, despite their “strangeness,” turn out to be that most real, in the light of which the “simply” real fades and fades - the true, only food. The same meaning is implied in the words about the mystical cup: “The tea will be sweet honey, or a fair amount of Ren, or sesect, or peter cement, or something else precious; and behold, I see the opposite, I see some kind of fierce, dusty sorrow... I thank you for your salary, prophetic saint, you order me to drink crampedness, darkness, sadness, tightness, gloom” 203 . The meal at which the ashes eat and drink wormwood bitterness is the antithesis of the Petrovs' feasts. Drunken barbarism is destroyed not by thunderous denunciations, but by irony and paradox. St. Dimitri confronts being and seeming, debunking appearances by comparing contrasts. It is no coincidence that in his sermons the idea of ​​false life and pseudo-life is often repeated. Life is not all that it seems to be. There is no just life, there is the antagonism of two lives, true and imaginary. In three different sermons 204 the saint brings the words of Christ to the angel of the Church of Sardis: the name of Imashi is alive, but you are dead 205. He recalls the apples of Sodomomorra, “a vision of green red” and “having a wondrous color,” inside of which there is “only one kind of stingy, stinking and harmful dust” 206. He speaks of the Bryn faith as “a woman writing her face” or “the apple of Sodom” 207 . A gap is created between appearance and true existence, baroque illusionism. Denunciation turns out to be not a moralistic demand, an imperative, but an exposure of the ontological inferiority of the phenomenal. Ashes and bitterness turn out to be true sweetness, and the meals of Maslenitsa and the Assembly are ironically detached - being without a core. The solid turns out to be a web, and vice versa, the immaterial and spiritual are harder than stone. “If God is with us, then the spider will be a solid stone wall to us; If God is not with us, then solid stone walls will be cobwebs” 208. Just as different forces and different environments require their own special insulating substances and materials, so in the spiritual world what is impenetrable to the forces of some is absolutely permeable to the forces of others. Just as glass, transmitting light, does not allow air to pass through, or metal, not allowing light and air to pass through, is “transparent” to electricity, so a petrified psyche, impenetrable to the rays of grace, may turn out to be completely permeable to the destructive forces of fallen angels. On the contrary, the immaterial “steam” of the spiritual is completely and completely isolated from the forces of the planet. A “web” can turn out to be a stone and a stone a web. Being in itself is at odds with visibility. For the eye, the incorporeal, the permeable appears as the hardest, absolutely impenetrable; What is solid to the eye, on the contrary, is completely permeable, like a web. It is noteworthy that the walls of St. Demetrius is most often painted in a baroque style. This is not a monolithic impenetrable surface, it is either walls that have been sunk 209, or the New Jerusalem, lined with precious stones - jasper, sapphire, emerald, topaz, jacinthos 210 211, “Apocalypse pearl walls” 212. A sinful man is “a wall broken down by the honesty of his rank, but solidified by the cruelty of his heart” 213. And here we see a gap between phenomenon and essence. St. Demetrius does not humiliate the sinful and earthly with a harsh sentence that burns his pride and self-confidence, as, for example, Philaret did later. His weapon is irony and the revelation of the ontological discrepancy between bright, proud appearance and internal lack of substance. “Who are we? Mortar, and pus, and a worm" 214. Our flesh is “from cronyism, pus, aphids and stench” 215. The whole world is a corpse that worms eat. “And like someone who abhors a dead man who eats worms,” says St. Demetrius in his sermon on St. Day. Gury of Kazan, “the saint despises the world as if she were dead, without the hope of an eternal life, but with the worms of everyday worries, rumors and rebellions I will take away poison” 216. A sinner, “like in a city, rotting for a long time in evil customs” 217, a soul killed by sin, a body, although alive, but “a city full of stinking bones” 218 - all these are different forms of pseudo-life and pseudo-existence. “Our very nature... is like water... we are all dying, and like the water poured out on the earth we cannot gather together” 219. “Water is human life on earth, according to what is written: as it was poured out in o” 220. In one of the saint's sermons there is an terribly vivid image of the destroyer death. The words of Scripture “man is like grass” 221 form the basis of a detailed and broad allegory of haymaking. “Like someone who goes out with a scythe does not look at the reaping, does not separate the grass from the flowers, the flowers from the grass... death and death, as they usually write with a scythe, having gone out into this world, visits people indiscriminately like the grass and like the flower of the countryside.” Further it talks about how she, “having dried everyone up with death, rakes everyone into coffins like hay into stacks” 222. The Grim Reaper is a favorite image of the Baroque. St. begins with this image of gnawing, mowing death. Demetrius “Pyramid or pillar in the blessed memory of the deceased Archimandrite Innocent Gisel” (1685). Everything is subject to death, except the truly existing. “When,” says the preacher, “the sharp scythe of death hits the stone and the destructive teeth of time fall on the marble, there is nothing they can do; when, I say, they fall upon a man who lived so holy, whose death is not death, but the beginning of eternal life... there both the death’s scythe and the teeth of time, which devour all things, must be crushed.” And you, time, with your oblivious teeth will not gnaw away the memory of such a person: for the righteous will be an eternal memory (Ps. 112:6)” 223. The insignificance of the phenomenal, torn away from its eternal roots, is exposed and exposed by mortal memory. The onslaught of rpexa and the world is reflected not by the weapons of the world, not by journalistic attacks and responses to the “relevant” or to “modern” ulcers, but by revealing the chimerical nature of the very “problems” and “torment” of the world lying in evil. “A sinful man, with a hardened heart in unrepentance, there is something else, like some kind of insensible wall... There is only one wall against such walls, like the one at Jericho, that can destroy them. What is this? The voice of the trumpet, the verb of mortal memory" 224. So the wall turns out to be a ghost, destroyed by a seeing spirit. Mortal memory is the lamp of spiritual life. “Without bread in body, without mortal memory in spirit, a person weakens” 225. “We will not make a mistake if we call death the universal teacher. Truly, death is a teacher for everyone, not only will a cunningly woven speech, a sweet-tongued word, a multi-pronounced sermon teach, like the image of death that exists before Ochima” 226. “No one can receive an eternal life after death unless he learns to die before death” 227. There is a strange overlap between Christianity and Platonism here. “The business of philosophers is to cut off the soul from the body,” that is, to die 228. At St. Demetrius is a retelling of a Greek legend. Wandering along the shores of the Mediterranean Sea in search of true wisdom, after conversations with Simonides, Solon and Zeno, the saint comes to the feast of the Egyptian king. The mortal memory of Christian asceticism appears here in the clothing of a pagan legend. “I look - they are carrying very rich dishes with food for the royal meal: why should this happen, the king, I am not surprised at that. It’s amazing that I see one great dish being carried, and on it is laid a corpse’s head without a body, without hair, without skin, just a bone. For what? Are you eating? But who eats a bare bone, and even to humanity, a person who has long since died? I look, they place that head in front of the king himself, and one of the stewards to the king says in a loud voice: Behold the king, so will you be! Having seen the king, I sighed and humbled myself in thought. Then the king forgot himself and began to have fun, and again, showing his head to the servants, he said to the king: Behold the king, so will you be! And again the king sighed, humbled by thought, and dissolved his joy in the memory of death” 229. The story about a mummy or an image of a dead man being brought into Egyptian feasts 230 has a different character in the original: in the face of death threatening everyone, the sense of life intensifies and the joy of this-worldly and fleeting things is felt even more strongly. Πῖνέ τε καὶ τέρπευ - drink and enjoy - we read from Herodotus. Plutarch has something similar. At St. For Demetrius, the appearance of the skull turns out to be an eerie grotesque, paralyzing the joy of the feast, and the narrative itself is painted in an elegiac color. It is characteristic that the images of antiquity were replaced by caput mortuum. This story about a dead head is found in southern Russian literature of the 17th century. quite often. For example, we find it in Ioannikis of Galatovsky. But it is enough to compare the sermon of St. Demetrius, at least with the latter’s sermon on the 20th week of Pentecost, in order to see all the difference between them. St. Demetrius does not move away from the shores of the Mediterranean Sea: his interlocutors are philosophers of Greece and the Bible. Galatovsky drowns thought in the abyss of erudition: after the story about “Ptolemy the King of Egypt,” there is a story about the bones of Adam in Noah’s ark, about the trumpets made by the Lacedaemonians from human bones, about the “Brazilians” and their arrows from bones, etc. 231 This load of illustrations stifles the manifestation of philosophical feeling. St. Demetrius wanders in search of wisdom through the native places of philosophy: the secret depth of Hellas sends him its response, and Plato, having comprehended the meaning of dying during his lifetime, remains in tune with the saint. The task of the philosopher is to “detach and separate the soul from the body” 232, to get from here to there as quickly as possible” 233. In the era of monasticism that developed in Russia under the influence of Protestantism, St. Demetrius pointed the way to the heights of the monastery. Involuntarily the thought again comes of a militant church, ecclesia militans, a church fighting the world, sin and the devil with the weapons of monks and angels. Pagan wisdom “arms itself with sophistic syllogisms.” Christian wisdom “accepts the word of the cross like a sword” 234. The cross is a sword, a sword that cuts demons. “Before the coming of Christ... men had no weapons against the devil; now the imams are the cross of Christ; just put the sign of the cross on yourself, and Abiye will run away from you” 235. “Even if sometimes the weapon with which David defeated and beheaded Goliath was kept in great veneration and behind the altar in Solomon’s Church, how much more the weapon of the cross, which Christ the Lord did not defeat the man Goliath, but the infernal Goliath the devil with all his army, is worthy of greater veneration and worship” 236. At St. Demetrius has a sermon on the feast of the Don Mother of God. Christian life is represented here in military figures. The entire sermon is dedicated to the “chosen Voivode” 237. In it we hear references to shields and arrows; for a Christian is unthinkable unarmed. The weapon is prayer, “the sharpest spear” 238, the weapon is the sign of the cross, the weapon is the word, the weapon is fasting, and “fasting, like a strong sharp spear, will pierce your enemy who rises up against you” 239. The apocalyptic image of Christ having a two-edged sword in his mouth was one of the saint’s favorite images 240. And with this weapon: “To mo ny r a evil y h um o t the love of God 241? Is the sword real or fire? Neither sword nor fire" 242. Here again we encounter an ironic transformation: what is called a weapon is not a weapon, and vice versa, “unarmed” is truly, metaphysically armed. The logic of paradox - this is how one could characterize the themes of St.’s sermons. Dimitri. Oxymoron 243, paradox, revealed in its internal necessity, revealing that it is impossible otherwise, that what is paradoxical in appearance is the only true one - this is the usual train of thought of St. Dimitri. He sharpens the paradoxical nature of sacred texts and emphasizes the contrast between the everyday and the biblical. Hence this frequent method of simple-minded everyday dubitations 244 generated by the text of the Bible. The saint takes the text of the Apocalypse about Christ with stars in his hands and with a sword coming from his mouth 245. “Whoever takes a closer look at the wondrous appearance of the King of Heaven with an intelligent eye will be surprised at this even more, as if there were stars in his hands, and a sword in his mouth. Our bad opinion is not good for us: it is more fitting for stars to be in our mouths, but for a sword to be in our hands” 246. Another sermon 247 is entirely built on the principle of doubt. St. Demetrius quotes St. Paul: by faith Rahab the harlot did not perish 248. “Here someone would say to the holy Apostle: Holy Paul! ... Consider whether you wrote and spoke well, when you compared the only accursed unclean woman, the harlot, with the faithful Abel, with the pure Enoch, with the godly Noah, with the honest patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and with other holy forefathers” 249. Next comes the text: “The righteous fall seven times a day” 250. It would not have been enough for a righteous man to crawl into sin seven times throughout his life; and he falls into the sinful case for one day of seven times” 251. Even further - “the path of untruth omcm avi from me” 252. “Every reasonable person, if he notices on which path there is great robbery, bypasses it and passes from afar, and does not ask that the path to another place be transferred with the robbers” 253. And finally, he remembers the holy prophet Jeremiah (3:3-4): “One sinner calls a harlot, and a virgin... the harlot first, then the maiden: why?” 254 Thus, sharpening the paradox, St. Demetrius then reveals the entire internal logic of the imaginary contradiction. St. Dimitri pits “common sense” against spirit, and the latter emerges victorious. Retelling the vision of the slain Lamb from the Apocalypse, he quotes the words: “Behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah has overcome.” The predatory lion and the meek lamb mysteriously merge into one image. “This is amazing, it was said, behold, a Lion, and I saw not a Lion, but a Lamb; the name is Levovo, and the image is Lamb! And again, the image of a Lamb, and the strength of Lvov" 255. The Virgo-Voyeda of another sermon is similar to the mysterious Lion-Lamb. “Let us turn all our minds and eyes, my hearers, and look at the Voivode, who has never seen or heard anything: who is he? Virgo. Who has ever seen or heard that a virgin would be a commander? Consistent antitheses enhance the improbability: “It is fitting for a governor to have a sword in his hand... and it is fitting for a girl to have a needle in her hand, for sewing red eyes; A spear is fitting for a governor, but a spoiled one for a maiden; the commander's helmet is iron, and the virgin's crown is colored; the governor has strong armor, and the maiden has valuable utensils; the governor has a shield from the arrows of the enemy, and the maiden a haymaker from the heat of the sun; It is fitting for a commander to go out into the field to fight against adversaries, and for a virgin to sit in the house, in the devil’s room. How can a Virgo be a commander?” 256. But against the background of these antitheses, a powerful and holistic image of the mounted Voivode, a wife clothed in the sun, grows. “Behold, a sign is not in the heavens, but in the sun is a woman (Apoc.12:1)” 257. The third example of similar antitheses is in the memory of St. Catherine. The virgin holds a cross in her hands. “We were surprised at the honest icon’s depiction of her, like a maiden holding a cross in her hand.” “It is fitting for a girl’s hands to wear golden rings, or fragrant flowers, or red apples, or anything like that that is appropriate for a girl’s face, and not a cross: the cross is not given to women in the hand, unless they are told to venerate the cross with their lips” 258. The saint was clearly aware of the meaning and role of contrasts. “Things that are opposite are close to the other and are better explained,” 259 he cites a position well known to scholasticism. - “Place soot for snow, a simple pebble for diamond, and blade for gold; Honest things seem better to be honest, but bad things are worthless” 260. Contrasts, however, almost always turn into oxymors. Nowhere is this expressed more clearly than in the interpretation of the Lord’s entry into Jerusalem, where contrasts, seemingly separated by an impenetrable abyss, suddenly come into mysterious agreement. The donkey at the entrance to Jerusalem signified the pagans and sinners. “He who is in heaven rests on Cherubim, he who is on earth wants to rest on sinners” 261. “And that is the true triumph of Christ now, donkeys into Cherubim, transforming sinners into Cherubim-like saints” 262. Donkeys and Cherubim are not only poetic courage - they are an adequate language of symbolic contemplation 263. Coincidentiam oppositorum contrasts St. Dimitri to flat “sanity”. His sermons are full of unexpected connections. Quite often, as a tool of rhetorical invention, he uses a technique reminiscent of the combinatorics of Lullism and artis inveniendi: like the concentric rotating circles of the Lullists of St. Demetrius takes three liturgical circles: annual, Easter and weekly. The combinations that arise as a result of the various movements of these circles are used as sermon themes. So, the memory of St. Demetrius of Thessaloniki (October 26), which fell on Friday, gives an occasion to combine the memories of Friday with the memory of the annual circle. Friday - the day of the Savior's Calvary suffering - resurrects the picture of Calvary and the warrior with a bloody spear standing at the cross - the centurion Loggin. But the saint, turning to the warrior, asks: “I pray to you, Mr. Loggin, centurion, from now on, on the sixtieth day of this October month, for your memory; and on this 26th, give a place at the cross to the guest who has now visited us in his honest memory, the holy Great Martyr Demetrius, my dear Angel, the governor of Selun. A mighty hundred to give way to the governor.” And the warrior with the spear, Demetrius of Thessalonica, takes the place of the centurion Loggin at the cross of Christ. The wounds of Christ and the wounds of the martyr become the theme of the sermon: the Great Martyr Demetrius, bearing the wounds of Jesus on his body 264. In another sermon 265 two angels come together: Archangel Michael and Rev. Archippus, “angel in the flesh.” Hence the chain of antitheses and parallels: “That one is an angel by nature, but he is an angel by monastic rank. He is an angel in action, but he is an angel in life; he is the commander of the heavenly forces, and he is the commander of the virtuous forces,” etc. But this technique reaches its most vivid expression in the teaching on the day of the Annunciation, which coincided in 1706 with the Monday of Bright Week. The entire sermon is based on the similarities and contrasts between both holidays. In a fit we hear: “Two bright holidays, disagreements and agreements: disagreements with reproach, agreements with force; disagreeing in action, agreeing in sacrament, disagreeing in time, agreeing in our salvation by accomplishment” 266. And seventeen mysterious analogies pass before the listener. There is a similar thing in the exordium of the teaching on the 20th week according to the Holy Spirit 267, where the Sunday Gospel (the resurrected son of the widow of Nain) and the memory of St. are intertwined. Vmch. Demetrius, in a sermon of 1696 about the battle of St. Archangel Michael with the serpent (November 8), etc. 268 What happens by chance turns out to be metaphysically meaningful, united by an internal connection. The accidental turns out to be necessary. Along with this, one encounters St. Demetrius and bizarre pictorial metamorphoses, bringing together the distant and making visible the very process of transition from symbol to symbolized, so to speak, dynamic allegories. Thus, the apple tree from the Song of Songs turns into a cross for the spiritual eye. “I look at it from afar with intelligent eyes, but I look at it from a perspective, reading a pipe, interpreting Divine Scripture. Instead of an apple tree, I see a tree of the cross, and on the tree of the cross I see like branches stretched out - the members of my Lord, the hand, the nose and the whole pure body; on those branches there are beautiful apples, I see bloody scarlet wounds, I see, I say, Christ our Lord crucified on the cross, all wounded and bloodied. O wondrous vision, oh touching shame! 269 Some of the saint's rapprochements seem strange and unusual. The cross of Golgotha ​​is a bow, and the drops of Christ’s bloody sweat are “like arrows in the body, the image of many to shoot and want to wound.” “The joints, sinews and all the flesh [of Christ on the cross], like a string on a bow: the bow is of God the Father, He has strained it” 270. The preacher amazes the ordinary and familiar, mired in carnality, with paradox, oxymor, unexpected convergence, irony, everything rare and strange. Constant surprise and the search for the surprising in contrast to the complacency of reason, for which everything is clear, the ironic destruction of reason by mysterious contradictions - we encounter this in every sermon of the saint. The eccentricity (may the word be forgiven) of the sermon is not afraid of even playing with consonances: “he is crying, but he is jumping” 271, “not for Jesus, but for biting bread” 272, “trouble and murmur” 273, “not like Blato, but like gold” 274, “isn’t it better with the Soul-lover than with the murderer?” 275. And she piles up sonorous rare names - Canaanites, Hittites, Evuseites, Amorites, Gergesites, Midianites, Assyrians 276. However, all these features of the century are tempered by that spirit of Eastern asceticism and mysticism, which is alien to any tension and tension. All paths lead to the soul. The soul is the sanctuary where a person meets God, where the secret meaning of symbols is revealed. The Song of Songs was most often interpreted as the Diayol of Christ and the Church. But St. Demetrius, the texts of the Song of Songs are preferably applied not to the Church, but to the human soul, acquiring an intimate, mystical, personal character. So, regarding Song 2:13 we read: “Bride of the Holy Spirit, she is the soul of a man who loves God” 277 . Or in another place: “God says to the human soul: I have made you like Me near Me (Song.8:6)” 278. There are places where several interpretations are given at once: “Only they say, the Church is holy... Friends say: the soul is human, truly loving Christ with all its heart” 279. Or we read about Song 2:8: “He betrothed to himself his Church, especially the soul of every Christian man” 280. Personal character dominates and prevails: the words of the Shulamites are put into the mouth of the Forerunner - “my beloved is to me and to him (Song. 2:16)” 281, the same words are put into the mouth of the great martyr. Catherine 282, and often the words of the mysterious bride turn out to be the words of the Mother of God, “and her features are Her features” 283. In two or three places we have an interpretation of the Shulamite as a Church 284 . In two or three there is only one buccaneal interpretation (Solomon - Shulamite) 285. But the mystical lyricism of the Song of Songs remains intact, not destroyed by the allegorical reinterpretation of details and trifles. Personal lyrical fire, secret and obscure, remains prevalent. Hence this deliberate uncertainty of interpretation: several interpretations offered at once, or closer undefined expressions: “The beloved of paradise” 286, “The lover of the heavenly King” 287, or vague expressions: “a certain person” 288, or, finally, deliberately veiled abstract descriptions: “two faces, the groom and the bride” 289. Love is the deepest focus of St. mysticism. Dimitri. “Love is one secret from the unknown mysteries of the heart, known only to God Himself, the one who examines the heart and womb” 290. The mysteries of God are revealed in the soul, and the answers to allegories are revealed in love. Just as in the Song of Songs, in the Gospel parable the interpretation of the grapes is given by St. Demetrius in several senses at once, and the human soul remains at the center. In the Old Testament the grape is Israel, in the New Testament it is the Church, “in particular” it is “every Christian soul” 291 . And the daughter of Zion is both the Synagogue, and the Church, and “every faithful soul” 292. Anyone familiar with church ascetic-mystical literature knows that this is one of its distinctive features. So, at Rev. Macarius of Egypt, the very concept of the Church is applied to the soul: “The word Church is spoken of both many and one soul: for the soul itself gathers together all thoughts, and before God there is a church” 293. All the events of the gospel history lead to the same soul. The resurrected Lazarus is the soul of a sinner resurrected from spiritual death 294, the prodigal son is a dead soul resurrected in repentance (dead and alive) 295, the daughter of Jairus resurrected by Christ 296 is a dead soul everywhere, resurrected and revived 297. In the famous sermon about the journey of the Kingdom of Heaven, some saw almost populism and responded with special love that the Kingdom of Heaven, at the end of its journey, settles in the land. But - blind! – they didn’t see the symbolism and didn’t understand that it wasn’t a matter of “peasantophilism”, but of the deepest mysticism. “That Gospel word does not mean that the village is a whole or a village, but a land, a field that is plowed and sown” 298. “Christian man, receive into your heart the seeds of the words of God, there is like a village that is sown in a field... In that village, I say in a person, which is a hidden treasure? I will not sin if I call the human heart a treasure. The treasure is invisible, hidden deep inside” 299. When St. Demetrius tells how the Kingdom of Heaven, wandering through the earth, did not find a place for itself in the city and went to the village, where there is extreme poverty, hunger and crying, where “the soul can barely hold on in another body” 300, that is, is there even a drop of “simple people-philanthropy” in this, love for rags as rags, intellectual philanthropy? Isn’t the essence in contrast (a treasure in a poor village), isn’t it in the metaphysics of suffering? “A Christian man”, not an “oppressed class” – that’s what we’re talking about. Everything is in the heart and only in the heart. There is a treasure, there is Golgotha. “Will anyone’s heart be like Golgotha ​​with the cross and crucifixion of Christ, and nothing else that is before the eyes of the wise, like our Lord Jesus Christ, and crucified? (1 Cor. 2:2) 301. “The heart is a small vessel,” quotes St. Demetrius St. Macarius of Egypt, “but all things are accepted in him; there is God, there are Angels, there is life and the kingdom, there are heavenly cities, there are treasures of grace” 302. “What is more honest and dear to a man than his heart?” we read in another sermon. “Thus a person lives, then the first thing in human conception begins in the mother’s womb: there are no other members, heads, arms, legs, they have not yet been imagined, but the heart already exists. That first thing is revived, and is like a spoon and a throne for the human soul” 303. A treasure is a heart, precious beads are a heart, an honest adamant, a hefty diamond is a heart” 304. “The altar of God is mysteriously the human heart, but the fire of God is the love of God burning in the hearts” 305. All the sermons of St. lead to mystical love. Demetrius “It is a marvelous thing, for the love of God is so sweet in essence, all sensual and mental sweetness surpasses. God is all desire, all sweetness” 306. “There is no other spiritual fire except Divine love, flaming like a Seraphim” 307. “That love is that which loves with all its heart the sweet thing, which loves Him not for the sake of receiving something from Him for that; neither heavenly for the sake of reward... nor earthly for the sake of blessings... But united for the sake of the love of the sweetest Jesus, who draws everyone into his love, who is worthy of being loved by everyone, all His desire, all the sweetness” 308. In the teaching on love of St. Demetrius rises to the highest heights of medieval Christian mysticism. The doctrine of love is equally related to both the best traditions of Eastern mysticism and the mysticism of Bernard of Clairvaux and the Victorians. Love St. Demetrius burns with the calm and even fire of the heights, but he knew both the fire and the chaotic flame of the underworld - the horror of spiritual combustion. Hellfire is dark and black, burning and non-luminous. “The local fire of grief shines, but the flames of this fire only burn burningly, but do not enlighten the pitch darkness” 309. Later preaching will avoid these extreme reaches of spiritual decline - dark and fetid. Metropolitan, of course, will not talk about them. Plato is at Catherine’s court; both Filaret and Innocent will avoid talking about them. None of them spoke about the abomination of hell with such ominous realism: “In this life, the body is graceful, good-looking, red-faced, kind: but then it will be ugly, absurd, stingy, vile, disgusting and terrible, like some kind of monster.” “And where some small black patches, called flies, appear on the face, stingy terrible toads will sit in those places, gnawing unbearably and incessantly.” “The lips of a fornicator will boil like an unquenchable worm.” “The whole body will be black, like the main thing, burnt, before being cast into hell, it will already bear the first fruits of hell, and like a living hell that exists.” 310 “There will be an unbearable stench there from the angry fire... This stench will be endured by such people who observe themselves in the sweetness of all kinds of fragrant mastic perfumes, and through diligence acquire all kinds of fragrant potions” 311. Sin in St. Demetrius is, first of all, another dirt and darkness, not a crime, like Philaret, not an illness, like Innocent. Those have images of unbridledness, wounds, ulcers. At St. Demetrius's sin is darkness, that darkness and lust that darkens the human mind with the “rough, dark color of the dead of night” 312. For the father of sin is “dark-shaped” 313, “smoked and blackened by the smoke of hellfire” 314, “dark-bearing” 315 and we, darkened by sin, are darkness. About Hama St. Demetrius in Chronicle 316 says that “his face is black, for this reason they are called an Ethiopian; with a blackest soul, darkened by opposition to God.” “Lord,” we read in the sermon, “what is indecent about us to You? You are the heavenly Light, illuminating all creation; and we are one rough Egyptian tactile darkness” 317. At St. Diigria sin is touched, smelled, felt in its blackness by the eye. His teaching about sin is an ontology of dirt and burning darkness, and not a moral teaching about what is improper and forbidden. When the saint arrived in Rostov in 1702, he brought with him to the north the learned silence of the Kyiv monasteries, the intellectual peace and contemplation of scholasticism. “In the White Chamber at a meal, Peter said to the governor: “If the bishop orders you to move the bishop’s house to the island, then you will certainly do it...” But the royal joke had little meaning; The metropolitan was not engaged in moving the bishop’s house, but in enlightening...” 318. The blind conservatism and utilitarianism of Muscovy and the ignorance of the Bryn “faith” - this is what he encountered at first. He was accused of using the old vestments of the metropolitans for the costumes of the Christmas comedy, and meanwhile the monastic order arbitrarily invaded the fence of the Church. The new and the old were equally deaf to what the saint was talking about. Was there a place for him in impoverished Rostov? “Oh, if only Rostov were not in such a deplorable state... And now can I say with the poet: we were Trojans, there was Troy, and the famous Teucrov glory... now there is only dust left, and there is no shelter for the ships” 319. Metropolitan Platon (Levshin) Platon, Metropolitan of Moscow L'honneur de notre èglise, espit rare, honnête homme D'Aaron même il sait rèssusciter le ton Et dans 1'art de toucher le coeur par la raison Surpasser Augustin, balancer Chrysostome 320 - this is how the poems of Prince A.M. Beloselsky depict Metropolitan Plato in his portrait in the living room of the Bethany chambers 321. Paintings from the Bolognese and Roman schools, Chinese screens, curtains and porcelain, a Buddha made of jade on a jasper column, icons - the latest “cry of fashion” and the experiments of home-grown self-taught people, secular and spiritual, pagan mythology and Christian cells - and, nevertheless, some kind of indelible imprint. “The house of Metropolitan Plato,” wrote Shevyrev, “reminded me of Voltaire’s Ferney castle. The rapprochement will seem strange, but every century, except for its glorious contemporaries, has its own special features in external life, in decorations, in receptions” 322. Even biblical images in Plato's sermons received their own special, Peterhof coloring. Even the King of Kings had “pleasure fountains” 323. And all of Plato’s nature was like the nature of a park, perceived through the eyes of an intricate eighteenth century. In the description of his trip in 1804, Plato talks about the road from Smolensk to Mogilev and Kozelets, “flat, strong and smooth,” lined in two rows with birch trees, “which, when quite grown, make it like some kind of garden alley” 324. And after a few pages, the Right Reverend again returns to the same comparison: “A road lined with birches, along which we drove as if along a garden alley” 325. “The Reverend loved nature,” Shevyrev testifies. “Beautiful views of the surrounding area, enlivened by ponds, surround his house. Mirrors serve instead of landscapes. The mirror in the closet reflects the view of the Lavra. The front bedroom also has a mirrored ceiling.” Mirrors, ponds, alleys - nature, decorated with art - hermitages - without this it is difficult to imagine Plato. “He was an extreme lover of solitude,” Plato wrote about himself in his autobiography, so as to be only at home, or with a small number of faithful friends and acquaintances, with whom he could only talk with himself, without any coercion, with all frankness. And therefore everything that is called ceremony was unbearable for him” 326. The solitude of Bethany and the hymns to silence become clear. Human life is always taken from Plato in its normal, calm, unperturbed existence. Even during the war years, everyone feels that the sermons were spoken far from the fighting. During the wars, Plato knew only parting words to the troops and the triumphs of troops crowned with laurels. Here there is no that heavenly calm that remains indestructible even in storms and battles and which reigns in the sermons of St. Dimitri. Here we do not hear that harsh condemnation of the world, which we will later hear in the monastically strict speeches of Filaret. Plato's peace is the idyllic silence of Bethany Arcadia. Its silence is that which the odes of Elizabeth’s reign sang. “The flowers around you are full of flowers And the fields in the fields are turning yellow..." “Everything pleases us: the zephyr of prosperity blows from all countries.” Under the shadow of the “blooming tree of wise autocracy” everyone rests sweetly 327. During the time of Elizabeth, Gideon Krinovsky, on the day of her coronation, exclaimed: “And what else did you, Russia, not accept from the all-generous right hand of God, what did you want? you were confused and likened to the excitement of the sea; and desired silence and peace: And behold, you received what you wanted: you received peaceful years, the golden eyelids returned to you, the kingdom of Solomon was renewed on earth” 328. In Plato's sermons, bucolic pictures of spring return more than once. “When the most pleasant spring opens, the shepherd drives his flocks to the fields that are the most fat and speckled with the various beauty of herbs and flowers, amuses himself with the play of his flock, enlivened by the succulent nutrition and the beneficial air, and opens his inner pleasure with the singing of the shepherd’s pipe, and thus resounds the mountains and forests. But when winter comes, all this changes into dull despondency, and the playing pipe falls silent” 329. One cannot help but recall Horatiev: Dicunt un tenero gramine pirguium Custodes ovium carmina fistula Delectantque Deum, cui pecus et nigri Colles Arcadiae placent 330 331 When Plato draws how “at the opening of a pleasant spring, the sun shines brighter, the earth is decorated with flowers, springs flow more transparently, the trees are covered with leaves and fruits, and the whole appearance of nature is renewed” 332 - what else is this if not church bucolic? In his autobiography, Plato recalled how in his youth he walked through the gardens and forests of Korbukha, swam in the ponds, had fun with decent games and “in friendly, often learned, conversations, time passed insensitively, while tasting fragrant vapors and being heard by the singing of various birds.” “In truth, that time was heavenly and the spring of Plato’s years” 333. In his sermons, Plato smashed “that terrible monster called Epicureanism” 334, these Epicures, who believed that the supreme good was not to deny anything to one’s bodily inclinations, but “to spend all days in merriment, all nights in restful dreams, all hours in the invention of new pleasures” 335. And yet, he himself had some kind of spiritual, refined epicureanism. “Plato especially liked,” he writes about himself in his autobiography, “that he found everything ready-made in the Lavra, as if he were always satisfied with the table and drinks, and departure, and did not care about it at all” 336. Plato’s closest leader and mentor, Gideon Krinovsky, “lived like a nobleman, his wardrobe with silk and velvet robes occupied an entire room; he wore silk stockings and shoes in the fashion of the time, like secular people; on his shoes there were diamond buckles, which were rumored to be worth 10,000 rubles.” 337. Plato never felt the metaphysics of catastrophe. His worldview did not contain the melancholy bitterness of the romantics and the monastic rejection of the world. For him, leaving the world was only a means to escape from the restless cycle of existence into equanimous peace - to look at life through the window glass of the Bethany cells. Absurdity and recklessness - sad melancholy. Melancholic people “don’t like everything, everything is annoying, and from their own life they draw a general conclusion about the life of everyone in general: just like a person who has eyes with icteric disease, everything seems yellow” 338. When a person torments himself with various desires and searches for too many things, “he loses his most precious treasure—peace of mind” 339 . “He is not rich who has a lot, but who is content with little” 340. “Sadness and despondency always leave bad traces of themselves: for they prevent one from passing through one’s knowledge with complacency, and through this they take away the best means to temporal and eternal well-being” 341. This is not the case for one who is trained in prayer: he “is in a quiet refuge, removed from all overwhelm and drowning in this sweetness, he cannot feel any of the sorrows of this world” 342. Morality and feeling, as opposed to knowledge and theory - quite in the style of the 18th century - are in the foreground in Plato. The task of spiritual wisdom is to calm the confusion of our conscience and show the road leading out of the labyrinth of passions 343. “The subject of secular schools is knowledge of things: the subject of the Holy Spirit is virtue. People try to enlighten their thoughts, the Holy Spirit enlightens the heart... There is a great difference between the learned and the enlightened. A scientist can know the measurement of the earth, the properties of natural things, the course of the heavenly bodies, and so on. But the enlightened one is the one who knows God, who knows virtue, who knows the position” 344. Virtue is the main subject of philosophy, virtue is the path to true peace. “When others worry, from top to bottom they are refuted, lamented; the virtuous person is calm in his quiet refuge and rests safely in its sweet depths” 345. Virtue is the sun 346, “an unfading rose, which does not lose its beauty even with the thorns surrounding it” 347. It contains the full expression of humanity, the rules of nature. “Virtue is exactly like the natural state. It is as natural for our soul to strive for it as it is for our eyes to see flowers and our ears to feel ringing sounds” 348. In truth, virtue is by nature, and vice is against nature” 349. A virtuous person is a person φύσει, a person intact and pure, as he comes from the hands of the Creator. Only in virtue is there balance and harmony, true nature, and therefore true peace. “If extremes are removed, then the body and soul will be set within their limits, the sweetest harmony will unite them: the body will not interfere with spiritual actions, but will help, the soul will preserve the integrity of bodily strength and health. And in this mutual harmony of body and soul lies true virtue” 350. “We are almost made up of opposite properties: however, we are obliged to maintain an exact balance between them, that is, so that, while observing what is characteristic of the body, we do not violate the requirements of the spiritual part; and while protecting spiritual benefits, do not neglect bodily needs” 351. Aurea mediocritas of Horace, this genius, patron of enlightenment, is involuntarily remembered when reading such lines. Only the life of such a person, “preparing himself for the future life through virtue,” is a life “good, solid, prosperous and blessed, even if sometimes it was confused by some misfortunes and transformations” 352. These “transformations” are something external to a virtuous person, most often an instructive spectacle, contemplated from a peaceful refuge. “A virtuous man looks at everything no differently than someone, standing on a high stone island, looking at the stormy sea, without fear of drowning” 353. Plato knows that “while we are sailing safely, we must remember the bad weather” 354. But this is not a formidable reminder from Philaret: “The peace of the world is a brief slumber under the noise of a dangerous storm, security based on ignorance, so joyful exclamations: peace and affirmation! sometimes it is interrupted by a sudden attack of all-destructiveness” 355. For Plato, death itself is a “quiet haven” 356. Filaret is tragic, Plato is elegiac and rhetorical. Plato expresses in ornate amplifications what Philaret will later speak about with harsh laconicism. “The beauty of flowers fades, pleasant, the greenery covering the earth turns yellow and dries up; the tall cedars are crushed; rust eats up hard metals; all animals in the air, on land and in water die and rot; From the smooth fields suddenly abysses appear, and from the abysses emerge stunning mountains. Where are now these ancient pyramids, obelisks, statues, colossi and hanging gardens? Where are the former flourishing empires of Babylonian, Egyptian, Persian, Greek, Roman? Everything has succumbed to time, everything has been buried under the ruins of centuries” 357. Strict monastic words about mortal memory are replaced by Plato with rhetorical declamation. The saint’s biographer reports that “although 12 years before his death Plato prepared a grave for himself in a cave built for this purpose at the Bethany Church of the Resurrection of Lazarus and 9 years later he made himself a cypress coffin, but for a long time he struggled with the horror of death, and did not even like the memory of it” 358. “What is for me today is for you tomorrow; who now exalted himself on a high chariot, tomorrow we will see him thrown to the ground; which Krezov abounded in wealth, he in the shortest possible time will lie with Job in a deplorable place of rot” 359. The very amplitude of the antitheses shows that here we are looking from the side, from afar - from a quiet haven, protected from extremes. Plato, however, has an image of sinking ships: “Like in Ocean, he is agitated by the cares of life, and one, so to speak, wave does not have time to pass before it is necessary to meet another. And these heavy blows never cease to strike us, until they are finally crushed into the grave, like a broken ship in a haven.”360 But who does not see that these ships are “from rhetoric”, that other, prosperous, calm ships are immeasurably more expressive: ships of faith, decorated with sails of love, confirmed by the anchor of eternal hope 361. Perhaps it is no coincidence that one of Plato’s most famous speeches, which won praise and compliments from Voltaire 362 , is dedicated to the glorification of the triumphant Russian fleet 363 . Images of ships and storms are often found in Chrysostom, but Chrysostom’s ships and storms are a living reality: both in Antioch and in Constantinople the sea blows. Plato's ships at Trinity-Sergius are bookish, rhetorical, and picturesque. This is loci communes 364 homiletics. Plato's storms are artificial, conventional, invented in order to set off the peace of monastic epicure. And “all-decaying time” 365 is the same phrase, one of many rhetorical turns. Movement and time are random, bursting from the outside into the imperturbable order of nature. There is no movement or time for one who is protected by the shield of virtue. “Neither the causticity of all-destroying time, nor the corrupting force of the elements, nor human passion can fade the beauty of flourishing virtue” 366. Plato did not know history or growth. The breath of history is not noticeable in his sermons. It is instructive to compare him with other preachers. None of them felt so deeply the movement of time and penetrated so deeply into the mystery of historical change as the Right Reverend Innocent. The cycle of the church year, the course of individual life, the moments of the earthly life of the Savior, the historical events of the Bible - everything appeared to him in a consistent temporal development. Plato, on the contrary, has a stopped history - morality, standing outside and on the other side of history. “Man, as he was at the beginning of the world, is always the same in the properties of humanity, in inclinations, passions and changes; and therefore it is always subject to the same fate, in the consideration of good or bad consequences. There were virtuous people, and there were vicious ones; there were happy ones, there were also unlucky ones; there were rich, there were poor; some were arrogant, some were humiliated” 367. Morality draws examples, no matter what era or century. “Joseph did not hide with virtue in prison, Lot in Sodom, Job in the dungeons, Moses with the flock in the desert, the apostles while fishing, and the great Paul in the tabernacle hut” 368 . The righteous Plato calmly looks at the cycle of the deceptive world. Storms and rebellion are outside, beyond the fence of true life. Plato has amazingly little to say about blood and martyrdom, and even in the few places where he talks about them, his speech bears the imprint of pampered idyll. These are aesthetic lawns. “And it seems that when the martyrs were burning on frying pans and burning coals, it was as if they were reclining on fragrant flowers. The Poca of the Holy Spirit sprinkled them and gave cheerfulness to the languid soul” 369. Even the Cross - this instrument of torture and torment - acquires a very special character from Plato: “Sit down, traveler! under the saving tree of the cross, and you will find peace for your soul. But is the cross a peace? Isn't it in itself a burden? No! our peace lies in him” 370. Everything painful, suffering, and calamitous is obscured. No blood, no torture, no asceticism - a harmonious morality of peace and balance. Plato's peace is not the peace of a monastery, it is rather the peace of a landowner's estate, the silence of a park. He often uses the words “sweetness”, “sweet”, “sweetest”. These words decorate the appeal to Catherine - “May God make your heart Eden, watering the earth with streams of the sweetness of your love” 371. “The royal face is the sweetest light, always illuminating its subjects with joy” 372. They are in speeches to the heir to the throne - the “sweetest hope” of 373 Russians. We hear about the “sweetest face” of Catherine 374 and about the “sweetest face” of the Savior 375, about the sweetest fruits of faith 376, good deeds 377, virtue 378 and reverence for God 379, about the “sweet fruits of the blessed reign” 380. We hear about “the sweetest spring” 381, “the sweetest spring” 382, “the sweetest exclamation of the victory song” 383, about “the sweetness of virtue” 384, “the sweetest peace of soul” 385, “the sweetness of silence” 386, “sweet” and “sweet” peace 387, “sweet dream” 388, “the sweetest hope of union with God” 389, “the sweetest pleasure of conscience” 390, “unspeakable sweetness” 391, “delightful feeling” 392, “delightful sight” 393. Collected into one, these quotes give the impression of saccharineness, which in reality is not there. But even scattered throughout numerous sermons, they still give them the character of some delicacy and femininity. “It is sweet to rest under a happy canopy” 394, “to rest with sweetness in the depths of the Divine Wisdom” 395, to drown in God “like in the Ocean of sweets” 396, “to plunge into the sweetness of the sweetest God” 397 - everywhere passive-quietic weak-willed images. This sweetness is also combined with, so to speak, the perfumed, scented quality of the images. “A golden ark filled with aromas” 398, the virtues of great men, like aromas 399, “the fragrance of virtue” 400, “the fragrance of the sacrifices of faith” 401, “a fragrant sacrifice” 402, “a sacred shrine filled with the fragrance of miracles and holiness” 403. A certain feminine-passive aestheticization seems to be behind these perfumes and sweetness. Plato loved calm, broad pictures of the cosmos, those “spectacles de la nature” that were so popular in the rationalism of the 17th–18th centuries. In “Christian Theology” Plato wrote: “This world is like a theater, presenting the glory of God to us; in the likeness of a book, the Creator of his preaching; like a mirror in which we see the clear wisdom of God’s image” 404. The saint developed these three images more than once in his sermons. Suffice it to recall the sermon on the three mirrors of God 405. In another sermon we hear: “To ascend to the theater of the Creator’s perfections, to look everywhere scattered traces of infinite wisdom and to see the union by which creatures, being connected, strive towards a single end that is prosperous for them - what could be more excellent than this?” 406. Or, finally, in the third: “In the wise structure and union of the world, like in a mirror, the Creator is revealed” 407. “Isn’t this very world, which rightly should be called the church of the great God, so perfect, adorned, exalted, so that, being surprised and amazed by such beauty, our feelings arouse our spirit to fall in front of Him who lives in the unapproachable light, and to love His infinite beauty?” 408. If St. Demetrius we met mainly with visions, while Plato’s paintings have the character of a spectacle. The knowledge of the Creator from creatures, the contemplation of the Creator's Wisdom in creatures is given in the form of a magnificent panorama. The teleological proof of the existence of God played a special role in Plato's theological system. In the diary of his studies with the young Tsarevich Pavel, dated September 3, 1763, it says: “With God’s help, I began to explain the law to His Highness in the proper order, namely, by natural reasons proving the existence of God, firstly, from the reasoning of this world, in which, as in a book, we read His creator and ruler; also from the reasoning of man himself, who is the great witness of the Divine” 409. Natural theology occupied a place of honor in the catechisms and Plato's Concise Theology 410 . We know the restrained attitude towards natural theology that was later noticed in Philaret. In the “Review of Theological Sciences” he compiled in 1814, it was thrown out completely as an independent section, “so that the branches of theological sciences would not multiply unnecessarily.” In support of his point of view, Filaret referred to the fact that a lamp is not needed in the sun, pointing out that the mentor “should only turn to the light of nature according to circumstances in order to thereby affirm faith in the light of revelation” 411. Plato is distinguished by that attention to the nooks and crannies of the world, to the small things in the Universe, which characterizes the era of sentimentalism. Speaking about God’s omnipresence, he does not forget to emphasize that God is present not only in creatures “which seem excellent to us” - the sun, stars, sky, air, earth, water, but also in those “which in our unfounded opinion seem to be despicable, although they are not such in the thing itself” - “in insects crawling on the ground, opening in the air, dead bodies born from them worms, and others, which we sometimes cannot look at without disgust” 412. A similar thing is found in another sermon: “Many of the reptiles seem to us to be vile and disgusting: but if you consider with the eyes of the mind their hidden interior, the proportional arrangement of the parts, the wonderful connection in everything, every smallest part of the benefit and need, of course you will then be surprised at the wisdom of God, and you will find that in this reptile no less the greatness of God is depicted, as in a creature that is beautiful and beautiful in appearance. huge" 413 . Attention to the slightest blade of grass of the universe distinguishes Plato. “Look at the small flower, at the last grass: therefore the flower, therefore the grass, are perfect in their kind, because they are not different now, as they were in their kind at the beginning of the world” 414. The vastness of the cosmos and the microscopic living speck of dust, as an irreducible component of nature - the attack of the New Year's sermon of 1766 was also sustained in this tonality: “As we continued along the path of our life, we, beloved listeners, were honored to enter into a new flow of things, and through this we became closer to our limit, - closer to eternity. We finished one year and are starting another. Glory to You, wise Ruler of the world, that You have not forgotten a particle of our composition in the immeasurable abyss of bodies!” 415. Plato's nature is a combination of the nature of sentimentalism with the nature of phyto- and acrido-theologies that abounded in the 15th-3rd century, a didactic-moral discovery of the Wisdom and care of God for man in creatures. He does not have the natural philosophy that Innocent would later develop; “he does not have Innocent’s emotionally perceived nature, the nature of true, non-Hermitage solitude, far from the rumors of cities and towns” 416. Plato is distinguished by that listening to the calls and voices of natural reason, which distinguished the Enlightenment of the 18th century. This search for innate instincts, the natural spark of conscience and virtue is entirely enlightening. Hence his hatred of school, of scholasticism. “In his old age, Plato asked the finished theologians: “You went through all the schools; did you go through Christ’s school?”” 417. In the Bethany Church, images of the holy fathers and great teachers of the Church were placed on the xopax, and above them an icon of the Savior. Plato used to say: “Here is Christ’s Academy and with its rector” 418. In his word for the new year, 1785, Plato said: “Here is not Cmoa, not the Academy, not the Lyceum, the places where ancient philosophers pontificated about vain subtleties. Here is the school of Jesus Christ, in which, through meekness and sincerity, infants are taught the best and highest Philosophy” 419. In Plato’s study, the walls are hung with theses of scholastic debates that took place at the Academy, with corresponding dedications to the metropolitan. But in essence, the Metropolitan was indifferent to this kind of manifestation of scholastic learning. Autodidacts, moral philosophers, not scholastics, suggestions of an intact nature, and not the tradition of the school - that’s what he loved. And this made him similar to the anti-scholasticism of the 18th century, which undermined devotion to dogma and tradition in the name of ahistorical “nature.” Plato sought the existence of φύσει, the normal order of nature, as the entire era of enlightenment sought it. And therefore, his sermons revolved on the natural plane, on the plane of moral psychology. It seemed that Revelation was not needed to explain those issues that Plato most often treated. The words of Scripture are for him only an illustration and confirmation of natural theology. The truths of revelation do not lead us out of the abyss of despair and skepticism for the first time, but only reinforce and confirm the favorable reasons of natural wisdom. About the sermons of Melchizedek Zablotsky, Plato wrote to the Reverend Augustine: “Tell him to keep away from theoretical and dogmatic thoughts, so as not to get lost, but to adhere more to moral teaching” 420. One cannot help but be struck by the almost complete absence of demonology in Plato's sermons. Even in a sermon on the healing of a demoniac, where it would seem most appropriate to develop the theme of unclean spirits, we have, in essence, only a rationalistic allegory: “possession exists in a person when his thought is darkened and upset, and his spirit is depraved and rebellious” 421. And in another sermon, “a deaf and dumb spirit” is quite clearly and rationally interpreted as a mental disorder 422. “The dark and deaf spirit” is interpreted no less rationalistically, without elements of demonology, in a sermon of 1787 423, where Plato defines it as cruel and dangerous human passions.” It would be interesting to trace the evolution that demonology undergoes in homiletics of the 17th–18th centuries, from St. Demetrius with his vivid picturesqueness, through, for example, Gabriel Buzhinsky, in whom the possessed is “the image and example of every person who is in the world” 424, to the purely allegorical and psychopathological interpretation of Plato. As for the angels, the Metropolitan has them either as an ornamental motif, or as a subject of moral and didactic discourse, or as an allegory, or all of this together. Thus, according to Plato, the cherub sparkling with flame at the gates of heaven “meant God’s wrath” 425. On November 8, year after year, Plato delivered sermons in the Archangel Cathedral. But even in these sermons, directly dedicated to the day of angels, angelology was largely replaced by psychology and morality. Plato talks about imitation 426, about communion with angels 427, about the superiority of man over angels 428, about the joy of angels at the repentance of sinners 429, about victory over passions 430, about the memory of death 431, about flesh and spirit 432. The contrasts between the Church Militant and the Church Triumphant 433 acquire a moral connotation, and even a sermon that specifically treats the nature of angels turns out to be a sermon on the nature of the soul to a large extent 434 . Both angels and demons dissolved in Plato in enlightened moralism, or, at best, in rational psychology. St. depicted the darkness of hellish despair in an eerily realistic manner. Dimitri. Plato has almost nothing about hell. Death for him is a transition into the light, a passage through the mysterious gates of eternity. We find almost nothing in him about miracles. He was inclined to replace supernatural faumaturgy with miracles of virtue, as, for example, this was especially clearly expressed in a sermon on St. Nicholas Day 435. Thought is equally afraid of descending to the depths of hell and rising to the heavenly heights of the supernatural. Plato is a soul-speaker par excellence, and his strength lies in the moral “anatomy of the soul” 436. The meaning of Scripture is most often revealed in him not in anagogical, but in moral terms. The main church images for him indicate the strength of the human soul. Thus, in the word about the Last Judgment 437, after the picture of the second coming, the sermon moves on to psychological allegories. “It’s as if some kind of test” of the Last Judgment is already now, “when we set up a judgment seat in ourselves, we set an impartial conscience on it as a judge and imagine ourselves bound by the bonds of heartfelt repentance, we question ourselves, we answer ourselves, we make a judgment on ourselves, we condemn ourselves.” We encounter the same “psychization” in the word on the day of the Holy Trinity, pronounced in the cathedral of the Trinity-Sergius Lavra. The exordium of a word, full of solemnly sonorous exclamations, beginning with an accented sounding syllable, with an open loud a, seems like a magic spell. “The church is sacred! turn today to the Upper Room of Zion. May our faith be rejoiced by this. Heavenly fires appear and burn on the tops of our heads; waver and stir the air, and thereby set our spirit and tongue in motion, so that they can proclaim the greatness of God!” But now, at the beginning, physical magic turns into spiritual magic and it is explained how to understand such a miraculous transformation. “For this church to change into the Upper Room of Zion, change your soul, Christian. So that heavenly fire kindles at the top of your head, kindle your heart with love for God and your neighbor. So that the air shakes and makes noise, so that fervent prayers, songs and spiritual singing may thunder not so much from your lips as from your soul. In this way you will bring about this desired and wonderful change, such will follow the betrayal of the right hand of the Most High” 438. The basic elements of the cult are interpreted in the same way. “All rituals mean something spiritual,” says Plato (the reader understands that we are talking about the spiritual). “Sveta means the lightness and ardor of the soul; smoking incense is our prayers offered to the spirit of God. Church reading and singing were instituted not just to amaze the ears and delight the ears, but to enlighten the mind and excite the heart, raising it to heights. The church vestments themselves were not designed to decorate the body with them, but to serve as a reminder, so that we clothe the soul in the robe of righteousness and the robe of salvation” 439 . Plato has one favorite image, borrowed from the apostolic epistles: the soul is a church. This image gives reason to psychologize the cult, to obscure its physical and mystical aspects. “This church,” said Plato in Kolomna, “no matter how decorated and magnificent it may be, it is material and external; but there is another spiritual and internal church. This church is you yourself” 440. The visible material church turns out to be only a shadow and image of the invisible soul 441. The church is twofold and tells us to understand the Word of God – material and spiritual: the first is created from wood and stone, the second is the soul of a true worshiper of God” 442. Such rapprochements are not made in passing; the image grows into symbolic-psychological parallels and correspondences. “Build a church for the saints in your heart, write an icon of their virtues on your soul, light a candle of unfeigned love, light the censer of an immaculate conscience for them, bring them the oil of mercy” 443. The sermon delivered during the illumination of the Church of the Ascension on the Pea Field is entirely devoted to the parallels of the soul and the church: the altar, the throne, vestments, candles and censers, icons and doors - everything becomes a symbol of the soul and its states 444. For contrast, it is instructive to take at least this passage from Innocent: “The opening of the Royal Gates forms the opening of heaven itself, the lamps and censer signify the fullness of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, and the appearance of the celebrant is like the appearance of an Angel from heaven” 445. In the sacraments (just reconsider his baptismal sermons) Plato highlighted moral and psychological moments. He focuses on observing the agreement made with God at baptism, keeping the vows given at baptism, and keeping the gifts of grace received. He highlights in baptism the moments of spiritual birth, rebirth, birth in the spirit. Giving contrasts between the Old Testament and New Testament sacraments and rituals, considering the former as shadows of the latter and concluding the sermon with words about the coming kingdom, the shadows of which our sacraments are, Plato thereby emphasizes the “shadow-likeness” of our sacraments. He does not have an ontology of sacraments, at least not in the foreground. He has a moral obligation, psychology, or even, if you like, pneumatology, but everything is within the limits of anthropology. Ex officio, he affirms the ontology of the sacrament, but now emphasizes its subjective side. Such, for example, are his following words: “The power of the mystery of baptism, although valid through itself, is weakened by our negligence” 446. It would seem that this kind of psychological symbolism of the church and the emphasis on the moral and psychological side of the sacrament threatens to lead us away from the materiality and tangibility of church cult into the invisible and cult-free world, into the Protestant in Geist und Wahrheit. Plato’s words that material churches borrow all their radiance, beauty and holiness from the reverent service of Christians to God 447 give reason to think that man himself sanctifies the material church, that the secret of the sanctification of reality is not in the influx of the Holy Spirit, but in the depths of the believing soul 448 that the cult is not ontological, but psychological and therefore conventionally symbolic. It begins to seem that the internal church makes the service in the external church unnecessary. It is interesting that the mother of the first wife of Paul I, Princess of Hesse-Darmstadt, demanded that her daughter’s teacher in the law of God must be Plato. “She read the theology he composed in German, which she really liked; and Prince Henrik [of Prussia], for her passage through Prussia, recommended him as a teacher for her daughter” 449. Plato's acute hatred of Catholicism involuntarily pushed him into the arms of Protestantism. “Who knows what an ulcer papism is for the Church of Christ, and to what extent its tools, the Jesuits, are crafty and evil?” wrote Plato to the Right Reverend Ambrose 450. “It is true that the new philosophy is dangerous for religion. But these philosophers are not as crafty as the Jesuits, who of all two-legged people are the most worthless and the most insidious, and will not sleep until they do something evil,” he wrote to him 451. In notes about his trip to Kyiv, Plato wrote that in Orsha the Catholic monks are almost all “young and portly” and “seem to live in contentment”; Apart from some short church rituals, they did not notice any other exercise; Perhaps there are some hidden things that only a remarkable eye cannot see,” he added ironically 452. Plato preferred Enlightenment and Protestant moralism to Catholicism and therefore sometimes it seems that his worldview is full of Protestant immamentism. It begins to seem that the cult is only an auxiliary psychological means of reminding one of what is outside the power of hierarchy and cult, what is drowning in the depths of the believing subject. Plato’s exhortation to schismatics is especially instructive. All of it is full of the desire to prove that what the Old Believers defend is external and unimportant for faith. “This is one stubbornness, to be in agreement in the faith about the Holy Trinity, but to fight for one’s fingers” 453. “The Cross of Christ is revered not for the sake of ends, but for the sake of Jesus Christ Himself” 454. “No matter how we walk, with the sun or against the sun, we do not find great strength in it. For this walk is a ritual proper to the mystery, and not the mystery itself” 455. “Don’t be embarrassed because someone else wears a wig; but think about whether he and the wig have put on any harmful or strange thoughts” 456. Not to mention the fact that with this kind of argumentation it becomes unclear why the Orthodox Church insists on the correctness of its own opinion; Plato, in the fight against the priestless people, was forced to defend the necessity and importance of the ritual and external. Plato himself was forced to admit that “although the splendor of the church consists in the inner beauty of those souls who gather in the church to praise God, external splendor should be all the more respected because it is not only a sign of inner spiritual beauty, but also greatly excites and really leads to it” 457. Or even more sharply: “External worship without the internal is hypocrisy, and internal alone with the rejection of the external is dreaming” 458. “The visible danger will be that a person will not consider external worship necessary, and will weaken the internal” 459. But even here, in this defense of the physical side of the cult, impressive moments, so to speak, impressive, reminiscent, or, conversely, expressive, emotional, come to the fore. The purpose of external and visible actions in the Church is “to arouse our spiritual feelings and, raising them from the lowness of the body and earth, to elevate them to spiritual heights” 460. Plato makes an attempt to substantiate external worship in the laws of psychophysiological expressiveness. “Imagining God’s majesty and your insignificance, will not your knees bend before him, or will you not cast down all of yourself and Abraham before him” 461. The church is taken in relation to the soul. It is strange to read such ontological lines, unusual for Plato: “The first Christians revered churches so sacredly that they did not dare to spit on the church floor. And some pious people healed their bodily wounds with dust from the church floor, making an ointment out of it, dissolved with their tears” 462. But such lines are an exception. More characteristic are the words that although the splendor of the church lies in the inner beauty of souls, the external splendor must also be respected, and these words sound eclectic and compromise. Perhaps this is not even a compromise, but the coexistence of two opposing aspirations: on the one hand, a purely Platonic craving for solemnity, pomp, external splendor, dramatic effect, on the other, reason, prudent morality, care for the soul, secluded in itself. In his autobiography, he wrote about himself: “He dearly loved church rituals and tried to increase their splendor, so that in his time his service was hardly anywhere in greater splendor and splendor” 463. And in the same autobiography: “I was an extreme lover of solitude... and everything that is called ceremony was unbearable for me” 464. External rituals were perceived by Plato primarily from the decorative side, not from the mystical-liturgical side. Suffice it to recall the theatricality of Bethany Favor. Plato talks about morality and simplicity, but this was combined with the solemn pomp of worship and vestments. His sermons made, as it were, adjustments to what those praying saw in front of them, and, rising above the visible splendor, thereby shone only more strongly. If you look closely at how light is depicted in Plato’s sermons, what its sensual properties are, then what first catches your eye is the abundance of light, brilliance and radiance. Plato’s light is fed by the light of the lights of a festive hall or a solemn church, light, almost always reflected and intensified by shiny surfaces - a mirror, gold: “shining images in the mirror of conscience” 465, “God is like a bright mirror in which mysterious truths are revealed” 466, “honor shining like a stone in a gold frame” 467 and further: “golden branch of the golden tree" 468, golden ark 469, "words inscribed on gold marble" 470, golden words written in the heart 471, hands writing golden laws with a golden cane 472, written with golden virtues in balls 473 - everywhere the shine of metal and the shine of artificial lights. “Radiance” and “brilliance” are Plato’s favorite words when applied to light. The following passage is typical for him: “O blessed and blessed art thou, if the radiance of the image and likeness of the Creator in you is not only unclouded, but through your intense diligence in virtue, the radiance is brought into greater glory, and the light of it is so increased that it is pleased to illuminate others, just like a solid body, receiving the sun’s ray, intensifies it, and multiplies the light!” 474. Or: “The bodily feelings and entertaining thoughts will be destroyed; Is there already a mirror of reason in a lesser radiance? But wouldn’t it be that, after the veil is taken away, it will be revealed in greater and unhindered splendor?” 475 The number of examples could be increased, but it is enough to note that even in paintings of artificial light - lit candles, lamps, lamps - the play of light, illuminative properties, and not the properties of heat, fire, scorching, come first. And that is why in Plato the radiance of the reflected brilliance of precious stones often comes to the fore. Let us recall the solemn exordium: “The annual circle, like a golden crown, is decorated with various precious stones; holidays, that is, the Lord and His saints. This circle, controlled by God’s right hand, turning with the annual flow, on this day brings before our eyes the memory of the Venerable and God-bearing Father Sergius” 476. I also remembered virtues and enlightenment, shining “like a precious stone in a golden frame” 477 and “all stones surpassing the brilliance” 478. Plato's light is sometimes huge and all-filling, but it does not have the burning and inaccessible light of Philaret, there is no secret inner fiery light of St. Dimitri. This is what he says about the divine light: “When God, by this light, cognizes [...] both the most immeasurable abyss of His being, and His most infinite properties, by this you judge the majesty and power of His light” 479. Light becomes an analogue of the divine and world abyss, which always appears in Plato’s speeches as grandiose, not as ineffable. The era of Plato called itself the era of enlightenment. The motifs of light sounded especially expressive in this immediate environment of rational “illumination.” The word “enlightenment,” erased and flat, came to life and became golden and shining. The light of grace turned out to be a magnificent sparkling contrast to the light of reason. It was precisely these contrasting, we would say visual-picture functions, that he primarily aimed at in Plato’s sermons. Plato himself preferred to entrust himself to the guidance of natural understanding, but as a homiletical effect, especially for accusatory purposes, he liked to flood the sermon with a sea of ​​celestial supernatural light. If he spoke about St. Sergius, who was illuminated at night by the light of the never-setting sun 480, then he also addressed Catherine II with the words: “Most pious empress! An uncreated light illuminates your thought" 481. He reeked of the “enlightenment” with the weapon of Christian enlightenment, with the luminous images of the Christian tradition. “God is the source of all enlightenment, and therefore He is called the Father of lights and the Sun of righteousness...” 482. “When three divine streams unite - the spirit of knowledge, reason and wisdom, then they constitute the source of true enlightenment... Whoever is illuminated by this three-part light, the secrets of the Father of lights are revealed to him and he is an enlightened disciple of the Gospel” 483. The virtue of the saints, the radiance of which serves as a guide to our enlightenment 484, the bright ray of the Gospel enlightening us 485 in this light pales and the cold light of reason is exhausted. No matter where Plato’s personal sympathies lie, his photosophy strikes at the very heart of the many-headed hydra of materialism. “This skin, these veins, these bones, of course, are not the essence of the light that is in you and is consistent with the ever-present light” 486. The denouncer of French materialism, Plato, was well aware that “we were not spontaneously formed from some uninfected particles” 487 . When in one of his sermons Plato speaks of a savage, of a person “brought up in savagery and ignorance,” then who would not see in his speeches a hint of godlessness, “enlightenment”? A man brought up in savagery and ignorance “looks at the sun and understands it as some small ball of light, and nothing more. Looks at the stars and they can be read by some small celestial wells; looks at the sky and imagines it as some kind of not a small space, but nothing more.” Meanwhile, the sun is “the greatest work of infinite reason,” and “every creature awaits the rise of this beneficent luminary and admires with joyful delight upon seeing its beautiful face.” 488 Plato exposed the lies of the Enlightenment light with the light of grace, but more often he struck the Enlighteners with their own weapon - natural reason. The light of grace receded into the background, became the background. Distinguishing between gracious light and natural light 489, Plato preferred to talk about the second - about “the natural light kindled by God at the birth of man” 490, about the fire kindled on the altar of the heart by the ever-present light” 491 about “the spark of truth kindled in the very depths of the soul” 492. And in terms of moral philosophy - about the innate light of conscience 493. One could say that the entire divergence with the Enlightenment lay in the different understanding of “nature” and “natural.” Plato’s “nature” turned out to be more capacious than the “nature” of atheists and rationalists, and his “mind” was more extensive than theirs 494 . A simplified sociologism in Plato’s speeches about the blessed and the supernatural, of course, would have emphasized the oratorical and polemical side and would not have failed to see the secret idea of ​​​​police curbing. He, of course, would have cited Plato’s words that without faith in immortality, “all laws will perish, all societies will collapse, the power of conscience will go out, virtue will be despised, and vice and villainy will rise its head” 495 . Without the thought of God the Judge, “without this bridle,” Plato believed, “human corruption, surpassing all measure, would overthrow societies and cities, and turn the earth into a most terrible desert. And on this basis, I think, enlightened people argue that it is impossible for a society to consist of only the godless.” 496 “Deceptions, insults, disagreements, idleness, drunkenness and other outrages occur especially from the lack of fear of God,” - this is how Plato judged in one of his early sermons 497. But the Metropolitan of Moscow was not disingenuous, consciously or unconsciously: he simply did not see his own contradictions, just as he did not see the contradictions in the setting of the Bethany cells. He dazzled with stage effects; but did not notice either the danger or the temptations of “enlightenment.” All his life, Filaret felt the proximity of the enemy, and was ready to exaggerate rather than underestimate his strength. Behind the fence of the Church, he sensed the approach of night and storm. “The clouds are darkening. The distant rumble of thunder strikes; There are either no lightning rods, or they are broken. The waves are rising; Jesus is the saving one. Arise, Lord, rebuke the waves and kindle the clouds" 498. Plato polemicized with the enemies of the Church as something distant, not daring to approach the church fence. He spoke like a shepherd, obliged to warn, but not believing in the seriousness of the danger. A number of threads connected him with the era, and only from dangerous extremes did he fence himself off with brilliant paintings or a half-grin. In his sermon on the immortality of the soul, Plato said: “True Christian! Have the patience to listen to these wise and wonderful reasons of the free-thinking mind and respond to them with something and, if you can, object. And if you successfully refute his wisdom, you will gain glory for yourself, and you will bring him happiness by leading him out of error” 499. Russian freethinkers gleaned their reasoning “from the depths of grammars, from comedies and in free houses” 500. “But these broad-tailed peacocks will lower their feathers,” continues Plato, “when they judge the Spirit of the Holy Word, that everyone who exalts himself will humble himself, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.” During his trip to Kyiv, Plato happened to see two churches in one village, Orthodox and Catholic, built by Count Z. G. Chernyshev. “We could not solve this inconsistency otherwise,” the saint good-naturedly and ironically notes in his notes, “as if it came from a new-fangled way of thinking called tolerance, so that, that is, we could mix all faiths together and be consoled when they, as if on a theater, are presented in different but combined phenomena” 501 . Plato's sermons are peace, triumphant peace, cloudless, sit venia verbo, carefree. This is the peace of French parks, military triumphs and glory. Plato has a favorite image - the image of a smoking altar. It is classically austere and calm, because, of course, the smoke is imagined rising upward, in windless silence, under a cloudless sky. Prayers “the purest incense that ascends to heaven” 502. Plato spoke about the “sacrificial incense of prayers” 503, “the fragrant incense of sacrifices” 504, about the incense of the sacrifice reaching heaven 505 and in his welcoming speech to Catherine he depicted the altar of his subjects, on which “with the ever-burning sacred fire, the sacrifice of gratitude is incense, and this incense ascends to heaven, and from Him who sits on the throne of glory is received into the stench of a spiritual fragrance” 506 . Even where we are not accustomed to associate sacrifice with a burnt offering, in his discussion of the sacrifice of Calvary, Plato speaks of Christ, who “offered his body on the Cross as a burnt offering” 507 . Altars of gratitude and triumphal gates - these are Plato’s leitforms. "Come, O King of Glory! - exclaimed the Metropolitan, meeting Emperor Alexander at the Dormition Co6ope in 1801, - the gates of both the outer and inner church have already been taken. The path is clear: come to the altar of God, to God, who rejoices in your youth. Fall before the feet of the King of kings" 508. And the same gates of peace and prosperity in the sermon on New Day, 1766, delivered in the palace church, in the presence of the empress. Plato ends it with a picture of the golden doors of the New Year, opened by the hand of God. "Into these golden doors the Lord of ages and the Lord of all life introduces you first, our most illustrious monarch. First, I say. For you are the first servant of the Lord, the first and sacred instrument of His hands" 509 . And when Plato spoke about the gates of eternity, these were the same triumphal arches. "By death we part with the light and all things in the west disappear from our eyes. But instead we solemnly enter the gates of eternity and unite with the utmost good, God" 510. Plato often mentions laurels. “May the Lord give us strength to soon see your eyes, great empress, to see your head crowned with laurels, laurels, under your shadow it would always be pleasant for your faithful subjects, and together with glorious peace.” 511. “Before spring began to delight our eyes with its beauty, the laurels of victories from the eastern countries flourished for us and the heads of the victors were repeatedly crowned with the crown of glory” 512. Greening and blooming laurels 513, weapons crowned with laurels 514 are laurels and weapons of Turkish wars. “What a place is, this is victory; like a field, this is the growth of victorious laurels. The Dniester, and the Dnieper, and the Bug, and the Prut, and Alusha, and Larga, and Cahul, and the Danube proclaimed glory to the world" 515 . Plato generally loved images of flowering, flowering branches, and helicopters. He spoke about a crown woven from the flowers of “wisdom and virtue” 516, about a beautiful flower that grew in a church field 517, about “the silence blooming throughout our borders” 518. The plant world in Plato performed its ornamental, decorative functions. This is not medieval emblem and allegory of St. Demetrius, and not the natural philosophy of Innocent. These are elements of festive decorations or garden flowers. Plato is almost always abstract and speaks of “color” and “branches” in general, and it is remarkable that only the rose is named by name (“the unfading rose of virtue” 519, the rose watered with morning dew” 520, and the traditional book “branches” 521. We also encounter in Plato the “olive of the world” 522, again ceremonial, a festive, conventionally allegorical plant. Gardens and holidays - this is Plato’s botany. Along with the images of festive plants, Plato often returns to the image of a trumpet - an image that was already aging and erased by his time. This image distinguished Chrysostom; it was characteristic of such preachers as Lazar Baranovich or Simeon of Polotsk. We also meet it in some preachers of the era of Peter the Great. But we would look in vain for it, for example, in Philaret or Innocent. The trumpet became a conventional attribute of triumph and rhetorical flourish. In Plato’s famous sermon over the tomb of Peter we read about the glory of victories, “with its trumpet constantly deafening our ears” 523, in others - about the “loud-sounding trumpet of victories” 524, about the “roaring joyful trumpet of peace” 525. In him we encounter the following typically rhetorical Zlatoust expressions: “Let us sound, O Russians, the trumpet of spiritual songs in our new year, on the blessed day of our holiday” 526, or: “Behold, we hear the apostolic voice, like a trumpet blowing in our ears: this is the victory that has conquered the world, our faith” 527, or: “But don’t your very deeds testify and don’t all trumpets proclaim to you, Russia, what a peace-loving Empress heaven has blessed you with” 528. Plato's triumphs are a strange, bizarre combination of secular triumphs, laurels, triumphal arches with specific bookish, “golden-worded” panegyrics. Plato did not know the feeling of catastrophe. Plato is not eschatolotic and he does not have an apocalyptic sense of danger. All those few texts from the Apocalypse that are found in his sermons are not specifically apocalyptic 529. The seven-headed serpent, the harlot of Babylon - you don’t expect to find these images in Plato and they really don’t exist. Soft lyrical and solemnly laudatory passages of the Psalms, anthropology and soteriology of Paul's epistles - this is what determines the tone of his sermons. Counts in 146 words show that out of 1316 texts there are Paul's Epistles – 437 texts Other books – 298 texts In other words, in terms of the number of citations, the Psalter ranks first among the books of the Old Testament, the epistles of St. Paala is among the books of the New Testament, ahead of the Gospels. Recalling his academic years, Plato wrote: “To quench his thirst, he read all the books that could be found in the church... and most of all the Epistles of the Apostle Paul, which he admired so much that he read them, perhaps, more than twenty times, and he did not like anyone as much as this man of great name and spirit and St. John Chrysostom” 530 On the contrary, Filaret treated Chrysostom rather reservedly. “There was a speech about St. Chrysostom,” Bishop Nicodemus writes in his memoirs. “The Bishop does not praise him everywhere: “He is long-winded, draws out his speech; does not look deeply; allows vulgarity; gets carried away with benefits to the point of excess”" 531 . But for Plato, Chrysostom’s creations were his native element. It was Chrysostom, with his moralism, with his doctrine of natural virtue, with his solemn rhetoric, that allowed Plato to speak on the topics of the century without becoming worldly. Plato spoke in Zlatoust's style on Zlatoust's themes, but they often sounded educational, responding to the age. We have already had occasion to briefly mention on various occasions Plato’s Zlatoust - trumpets of victories, ships, the teaching of virtue. But Plato has almost conscious direct imitations of Chrysostom: “... sanctify this divine church; sanctify, for it was established to be a dwelling place for the inconceivable God; sanctify, for it was appointed to be a place of God’s gracious presence; sanctify, for it was established to be a haven of salvation; sanctify, for it was founded to be a spiritual school for the disciples of Jesus Christ; sanctify...” 532, etc. At St. Chrysostom: "Hell is grieved, having met Thee before you. Be grieved, for you were abolished; grieve, for you were desecrated; grieve, for you were killed; grieve, for you were deposed; grieve, for you were bound" 533 . The sermon begins on St. Alexia is a direct imitation of the beginning of the first word against the Anomeans: Sumarokov 535 brought Plato closer to Chrysostom: “Plato is a follower of Chrysostom, he has talents, his properties, his taste.” In this case, rapprochement with Chrysostom has every reason, although in most cases rapprochement with the saint of Constantinople was done indiscriminately, out of the sole desire to praise beyond measure. When we talked about St. Demetrius, we have already had occasion to note that logical schemes and logical constructions distinguish the sermons of Metropolitan Plato. The rationality of the scheme, however, relates primarily to the overall composition of the sermon. These schemes are often filled with verbose amplifications, “gloriousness,” where logic is subordinated to oratorical architectonics. Plato is far from the rigid geometricity of the compressed formulas of Bourdalou, whose sermons were not without reason compared to the steady forward movement of a closed military column 536. This representative of classical rationalism in homiletics, not only in general terms and individual parts, but also in the smallest details, in individual periods, moves with mathematical consistency, as if proving a theorem. Plato also has these “let us propose”, “consider”, “let us penetrate”, a schematic division: “firstly”, “secondly” 537; but, despite this, there is some kind of roundness and smoothness in his sermons: the attention of the listeners rests, as if on a soft bed, on rhetorical “much verbosity”, softening the rigidity of rational demonstrations. Logical stinginess is replaced by oratorical extravagance. Pascal once wittily remarked that the one who builds violent antitheses is like an architect who makes blind windows for symmetry: the harmony of the structure is achieved here at the cost of consistency of thinking. Plato's logic is not always flawless in this regard. And here there are blind windows. If we take, for example, the sermon on Paul’s birthday 538, then the antitheses here are nothing more than tautological amplifications: “the hardworking man abounds in wealth, but the idle man fades into poverty; the diligent man gains a noble spirit, and the careless one darkens the radiance of his nobility; the diligent man enriches his mind with learning, but the lazy man grows in ignorance." These antitheses are constructed according to the law of contradiction: A – not-A. The same can be seen even more clearly in the following example: “Staying in sin is baseness, and running away from it is height; unrepentance is baseness, and repentance is height” 539. Or: “Here I grow old, there I don’t grow old; here I die, there I don’t die. Here I grieve, there I don’t. Here there is poverty, and illness, and slander; there is nothing like that there” 540. We remember that the antitheses of St. Demetrius were a reflection of the coincidence of opposites, the coincidence of A and non-A, gravitating toward oxymoron: Leo - Lamb, Virgo - Voivode. Plato's antitheses most naturally serve as an expression of the moral theme of the two paths. While the antitheses of St. Demetrius reflects the contradiction of dogma, dogma - antinomy, Plato's antitheses - expressions of rational dilemmas. Even in the sermon on the cup of Christ 541, which seemed to bring together rather than separate the opposite, a dilemmatic, alternative structure was still sharply revealed. Plato says that this cup is “sorrowful, but at the same time sweet.” However, he constructs his sermon in such a way that the basis is the contrasts of worldly misfortunes and the tranquility of virtue, that is, the contradiction turns out to be imaginary: “thesis” and “antithesis” are taken in different senses. Plato's antitheses serve not to confront contrasts, clash contradictions and merge them in the irrational identity of an oxymor, but to symmetrically balance thesis and antithesis. At the beginning of his preaching career, Plato especially abused antitheses. There are sermons that represent a continuous development of one antithesis. Such, for example, are the sermons delivered in February 1764. All of them are built according to the same type. On February 1, the week of the publican and the Pharisee, in the court church Plato preached a sermon on the topic of pride and humility. It is all composed of 12 oppositions of pride and humility 542. On February 8, the week of the Prodigal Son, Plato gave a contrast between good people and bad people 543, on February 29 he delivered a sermon on how heaven closes and opens 544. Plato's antitheses were always rationally symmetrical, unfolding in an orderly series 545. The same harmony of construction is found in complicated tripartite disjunctions. “In a low state they are cowardly, in an average they are dissatisfied, in a high state they are exorbitant. In poverty we grumble, in wealth we fuss, in honor we puff ourselves up, we worry ourselves everywhere. The ignorant is superstitious, the half-learned knows everything, the enlightened one doubts everything” 546. Plato has completely symmetrically constructed phrases, for example, “There is no way to restrain His outstretched hand for beneficence, and there is also no way to deviate His tense hand towards punishment” 547. Entire passages are symmetrical: “True joy! There is nothing sweeter, nothing more desirable. It consists of peace of conscience and peace with God and man. She also exists with heavenly eternal joys. The sadness is real! There is nothing more bitter, nothing more terrible. It consists of torment of conscience and enmity with God and man. It also exists with hellish and eternal torment, imaginary joy! There is temporary and temporary pleasure for one body, ending in everlasting sorrow and repentance. Imaginary sadness! There is a temporary and temporary sorrow for the body, ending with everlasting joy and pleasure. And from this you see that some sadness is harmful and destructive, some is useful and saving...” 548 In the introduction of the sermon for St. John Chrysostom 549, constructed anaphorically (Come, lovers of leisure... come, spiritual fathers... come, children of the church, etc.) etc.), out of eight sentences, two are rhythmically constructed in a completely symmetrical manner: Come to the church children: || let us sing to her teacher VV – V – V – V VV – V– V – V Come lovers of truth || let us exalt her preacher Plato loved affectation and drama, but they also show symmetry and deliberation. There are sermons that are nothing more than waves of changing emotions. Thus, the sermon on the 9th week after Pentecost 550 begins with a picture of the ocean and a description of the fear of drowning. Fear gives way to sadness, sadness to hope, and again the picture of an even more terrible and vicious storm appears. This is how Plato throws his listeners three times from anxiety and despair to hope and hope. No less instructive is the sermon about two mountains - Sinai and Tabor, where the soul of the listener oscillates between the Old Testament horror and the sweet radiance of the Transfiguration 551. The deliberateness and deliberateness of the change of emotions is especially exposed in one of the sermons of 1786 552. The transition here is “sewn with white thread.” Briefly, almost casually, Plato speaks about fear and horror, in order to immediately move on again to jubilation and joy: "And how can one not be afraid and not hide? Our God is a consuming fire. At his face the mountains melt, the luminaries fade, the creature is horrified, hell trembles. || But is it always to be afraid, is it always to take refuge? Oh, no! This fear is the most painful execution: and concealment is the most destruction. Listen to the voice of the Gospel and encourage yourself. He tells you: Do not be afraid of the daughter of Zion.” Rhetorical questions are often just a kind of transposition of the questions of the catechism. They have the answer. So, for example: “But what is required for this on the part of man, as a free creature? in thought there is knowledge of the truth, in the heart there is repentance" 553. "What is the repository of the law of the Lord? His Church is holy. She is not only a divinely inspired ark of truth; but also the most faithful interpreter of God's will" 554 Plato's exclamations are pseudo-exclamations, they contain the same logic as in definitions and maxims, and not a whirlwind of spiritual admiration. Who does not see the symmetrical thoughtfulness of the emotional “ah!” in the structure of the period, which for clarity we will write architectonically: Plato often uses exclamations: “ah!”, “oh!” etc. “Oh, no!” 556, “Ah, my listeners!” 557, “But, ah! let it be so” 558, “Ah! everyone thinks about everyday things...” 559, “But ah! he fell, was crushed and died” 560, “Oh! what a terrible blow for the pomp of a human being!” 561. He has frequent emotional repetitions: “Then, then, blessed Christians! the whole economy of Christ will be completely fulfilled” 562, “Then, then our renewal will follow” 563, “You, you, Mount Sinai...” 564, “I know, oh! I know...” 565, “Oh, so we are unhappy, unhappy...” 566, “But we, we are the fallen race of Adam” 567, “What did we dispose and prepare? - By faith, undoubting faith, ardent and all-soul” 568. Plato loved solemn apostrophes, like his famous: “But arise now, great monarch...”, pronounced at the tomb of Peter 569. Plato's sermons are full of appeals to God and the saints. “We turn, firstly, to you, in spirit in God, and in body with us, the Lord Sergius, who rests with us!” - in the sermon in front of the shrine with the relics of the venerable 570, “Why are you, Venerable Sergius 571, etc. In Plato’s early sermons (up to approximately 1772), the presentation of the topic invariably ended with the invocation of the Divine. Thus, in the sermon on the keys we hear: “And You, O Savior Christ, we call upon Thy grace, open our hearts...” 572; in a sermon on philosophy we meet: “But You, Eternal Wisdom, according to Your promise, give me a mouth and wisdom...” 573 The abundance of such apostrophe dramatized and theatricalized the sermon. Plato has a sermon 574 almost entirely addressed to Herod: “Mad king! in vain you are embarrassed!”, “But look, blind Herod,” “But O foolish Herod,” etc. Plato even turned to abstractions and inanimate objects - to flesh and blood 575, to the world 576, to faith 577, to the Gospel 578. He turns to Sinai and Tabor: “Rejoice with the prophet, O Tabor!” 579 and in the same sermon: "O Mount Sinai! Build from us. O Mount Tabor! Shine and comfort our eyes" 580. Along with this, Plato often uses the figure of prosopopoeia, which further theatricalizes the sermon. A robe, a spoon, a knife, a staff, which belonged to the Monk Sergius, “as the animated ones all cry out loudly: Christians, Christians, place your wealth not in gold and silver, but in virtue and piety” 581. Its walls cry out to Christians: “We are splendid, and you are disgusting; we are gilded, you are dirty, we shine, and you are dark” 582. Often speech turns into dialogue or fragments of dialogue: “But what awaits, tell us, Paul, the revelation of the sons of God” 583. "What, our Joy, will you tell us? Tell us too, O Merciful One: “Peace I leave you, My peace I give to you. (John 14:27)"" 584 Such questions are in the style of the 16th–17th centuries; St. loved them. Dimitri. But for him they were the bewildered questions of a simpleton and emphasized the paradoxicality and strangeness of the text. Plato's questions are solemn questions and his addresses are mostly praise, greetings and invocations. Plato’s cries and exclamations appeared even where it was most natural to expect silence - in the silence of Golgotha: The Cross contains the power to strengthen those who endure, “not in itself, but according to that great Person who was crucified on it, and who cries out to us from the cross: in your patience gain your souls” 585. Plato was a contemporary of sentimentalism, the ineffability of which was not that mystical inexhaustibility of spiritual depths that are hidden from the soul itself, which are greater than the soul itself; the essence of which lay in increased subjectivity, which asserted the impossibility of fully and completely expressing one’s internal emotional content, a content fully and thoroughly recognized by the subject as his own. Sentientalism has always exaggerated this discrepancy between expression and emotion, playing with the secrets of the sensitive heart. It is a sign of the times that in 1787 Plato said: “There is more in the heart of feelings than in the language of words: and the feelings of the heart cry out louder than any floridity of the tongue” 586. These are words from a sermon about the “inner cry of the heart” to the text: “God has sent the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying, Abba Father” 587 - a text that Plato developed into a sermon almost entirely woven from emotional cries. “It is very remarkable,” he said in another sermon, “that the Apostle did not say: the Spirit of God in the heart of the faithful says or says Abba Father! but he said crying out. Some are simply a voice or a verb, while others are a cry. A cry means a proclamation, loud, strong, startling, hot” 588. There is no unspeakability in Plato's emotionality. This is not a feeling that overflows the edge of reason, a feeling that requires a heap of images, a ladder of symbols ascending upward. Plato liked to take extremely tense forms of expression, bordering on hyperbole. But he does not have the characteristics, for example, of St. Demetrius's feeling of inexhaustibility of content with these ultimate forms. Plato is characterized by the superlative degree, the superlative, which in essence is already a limit, edge, complete. Plato is characterized by the following phrases: “All the Lord’s promises must turn into the most bitter sorrow if we neglect the most important duty of education. Good inclinations, gifts and abilities will be extinguished, and the most terrible monster of vices will emerge...” 589 Especially this superlativeness developed where Plato composed praises to Catherine and Paul: “We greet Your most sacred Imperial Majesty with this blessing of God, with this Your special happiness, with this most glorious and useful peace, and, calling the help of the Most High, we wish most earnestly...” 590 Dearest, noblest, strongest, firmest, most brilliant, brightest, clearest, reddest, first, most excellent, purest, most worthy, most enlightened, most sincere, most zealous, most faithful, most blessed, most sensitive, joyful, most pleasant, most favorable, the most gracious, the most kind, the most desirable, the most necessary - Plato’s sermons are replete with these epithets - and here is the superlative degree with the prefix pre-: pre-adorned, most good, most glorified, most admired, most gracious, most condescending, most illustrious. Plato has the grandiose, if you like, even the hyperbolic, but there is nothing inexhaustible and unspeakable. He loved to return in his sermons to the image of the abyss - the immeasurable “bodies of the abyss” 591, “the abyss of God’s destinies” 592, “the abyss of perfections” 593. He spoke about the mystery of the incarnation, which is “deeper than any abyss” 594, painted a picture of perfections and blessings pouring out from the divine abyss: “Imagine an immeasurable sea, which, unable to restrain itself in its shores, began to pour through them: just like in some way, the immeasurable abyss of God’s perfections, as if unable to restrain itself within its limits, deigned to pour out outside itself. other than some perfection of God’s being, a message was poured out to other beings: from this outpouring came the heavens, luminaries, earth, trees, animals and other creatures innumerable” 595. It is grandiose and magnificent, not mysterious and inexhaustible. The emphasis is on the spatially extensive, not on the internally elusive and incomprehensible. Plato's exclamations and Plato's emotionality are quite understandable only against the backdrop of the past. Although they send their response to the secular sentimentalism of their time, they to an even greater extent reflect the cheeky, declamatory and lyrical style of Elizabethan preachers. "O fear! Oh horror! Who will not tremble in the heart hearing this: who will not tremble with all his hearts from such a thought? Yes, all my pulses turn into me, my veins tremble, and the very blood in my heart freezes when with my thoughts I approach the gates of mortals, to the gates that lead to that terrible judge" 596. Plato modifies the style of Gideon Krinovsky, who was a master of exclamations, emotional construction of the period - with anaphors, iterations, a heap of epithets, etc. 597 Gideon's sermons are typical examples of Elizabethan literary baroque. Plato studied with Gideon no less than with Chrysostom. But Plato's style is drier and more solemn; there is less colorful fantasy in it. He built sermons rather than unfolding pictures. Even where, it would seem, the entire sermon is the development of one allegorical picture, the symbolic development is not sustained. In the 1795 sermon on Palm Sunday, the soul is likened to Jerusalem; but Plato lingers on the symbolism of open and closed gates, playing with contrasts. And only towards the end Plato briefly reminds us not to forget to strengthen the walls around our city. Here, in this sequence, only a hint is given of those figurative transitions that we encountered in St. Dimigria. Let us recall the latter’s sermon on the text “Prepare the way of the Lord,” where the text brings with it a whole string of images of engineering art. Plato sometimes skimmed over symbols when interpreting parables 598. Not symbolic paintings, but aphorisms and proverbs are more typical for him. From Plato’s teachings, more easily than from any others, one could compile a collection of edifying aphorisms: “It is better to carry a small thing, with whatever benefit, than to take a great thing on your shoulders and be burdened with it” 599 . “Virtue is the basis of happiness” 600. “Good examples are like small streams, and bad examples are like the sea” 601. “I don’t know whether rudeness combined with constancy is not better than learned frivolity: for not everything that glitters is gold” 602. “An unbeliever and unenlightened person does not eat in order to live, but lives in order to eat” 603. There is a chill of reason everywhere, in the composition of the sermon as well as in dramatic passages and individual exclamations; reason and affectation, unreconciled and at the same time transforming into each other. And the first impression of the Bethany cells does not deceive: the latest fashion, the influence of “secular”, noble tastes - and the specific features of the Russian clergy and their way of life. The traditions of the theological school are intertwined with secular skills acquired from outside, Latinisms, Slavicisms, Greekisms - with Gallicisms. The spiritual begins to sound somewhat secular, the sermon comes into contact with a panegyric, a dramatic monologue, a moral treatise. Let us note that the new edition of Plato does not give the impression of this well-known anachronism of the original Plato, does not give an idea of ​​​​the echoes of Elizabethan traditions, the Slavic-Greek-Latin Academy, etc. The Latin construction of the Platonic periods 604 has already been noted more than once. This Latinism contains almost all the flavor and charm of Plato's language. Therefore, when unceremonious publishers tried to “correct” the syllable and change the word order in a “modern” way, the periods sounded official and wooden. Only in the new edition do we read such distorted phrases: “The church is the palace where the spiritual betrothal of immaculate souls to Christ takes place... the church is the altar on which this pleasant sacrifice is offered” 605. In fact: “The church is a palace where the spiritual betrothal of immaculate souls to Christ takes place... the church is an altar on which this pleasant sacrifice is offered.” New publishers replaced the Slavic reliable and verbal endings with Russian ones, putting “transformed” instead of “transformed”, “this” viesto “sow”, “obey” instead of “obey”, replaced the Slavic “eesh”, “stretched”, “at your right hand” - “sing”, “stretched”, “at your right hand”. They destroyed the Greek polyunions: “Thunder, lightning and smoke” instead “thunder, and lightning, and smoke” 606. “Prayers, songs and spiritual songs” instead of “prayers and songs and spiritual songs” 607. In Plato we find Latinisms, the remains of school terminology: “matter” 608, “corpus” 609, “general” 610, etc. And here the hand of the publishers did not spare Plato’s originality: “machinations” are replaced by “siege weapons” 611. Plato loved Greekisms, as evidenced by the following judgments: “The word looking in Greek is called oikonomia. It's more expressive. It also means that the economy of law" 612. "A sacrament in our language means an undisclosed, secret thing, kept in silence. And in Greek it is called mystery, that is, such a thing that should not be pronounced, but kept silent, putting the finger on the lips” 613. New publishers here, too, obscured these Greekisms and replaced the “theater of the Creator’s perfections” with “the height of the Creator’s perfections” 614. Plato's sermons are replete with complex epithets, especially complex words with “good-”, which give the whole speech a very specific flavor. “Show your sincere gratitude to your most gracious Mother and the Fatherland, show yourself worthy of her royal contemplation of you” 615; “blessed beginning of good deeds” 616; “This blessed day has dawned on us again, on which God, benefiting Russia, gave us the dearest guarantee of His goodness” 617; “a favorable dawn, plaguing the sun of the good world of the ruling Providence” 618; “a beneficial instrument of good Providence” 619; “May you preserve the power of this fragrance with fragrance” 620; “my gratitude to my Benefactor” 621; “doing good to us in this favorable time of spring” 622; and further – “favorable time of fasting” 623, “most favorable bucket” 624, “welfare” 625, “well-being” 626, “well-established” 627, “well-being” 628, “well-intentioned” 629, “well-intentioned” 630, “grandeur” 631, “well-behaved” 632, “compassionate” 633, “compassionate” 634, “well-known” 635, “well-endowed” 636, “good manners” 637, “compassionate” 638, “benevolent” 639, etc. No less typical are other complex words like “multi-verbal” 640, “multi-national” 641, “much-caring” 642, “poor-loving” 643, “long-lived” 644, “helpful” 645, “sweet-voiced” 646, “bright-brilliant” 647, “hay-leaved Cross tree” 648, etc. Gallicisms are strangely woven into this Slavic-Greek-Latin fabric: “reasons that aroused God to create the world” 649, “wise and wonderful reasons of the free-thinking mind” 650, etc. This is the whole of Plato: secular with spiritual, pagan with Christian. When, in his homily on the Dormition, Plato speaks of the Mother of God enjoying “the sweetest eternal amusements of nectar in the non-evening day of the kingdom of Christ” 651, this is his usual manner. It was a rare greeting to Catherine without mythological images. While still the rector of the Trinity Seminary, Plato told the Empress: “In order to treat the gods, they say, covering the truth with fictions, the Piitas served some all-sweet nectar and a certain immortal dish, ambrosia; but besides the fact that we don’t have this, instead of treating ourselves, we ourselves are treated to our autocrat. the sweetest nectar, conversation is heavenly ambrosia, the merciful eye is the most auspicious zephyr” 652. In another welcoming speech, Plato recalled the ritual of meetings among the ancients - about altars with incense, about vestments spread along the way, about laurels and olive branches, about lit candles. "Instead of altars, the monastery devotes its reverence, befitting your power. Instead of spreading vestments, we expose ourselves to your royal feet; instead of laurels and branches, we offer our spirit expanding in the full color of joy; instead of burning candles, we entrust our hearts, kindled by filial zeal, to you" 653 ... There is its own aesthetics and its own tastelessness in flattery. The altar server, casting himself instead of vestments at the feet of the monarch - this has echoes of the court aesthetic canon, but there is also a strange, truly terrible bad taste: a monk speaking in the language of a courtier, in the language of odes and words of praise. After all, let’s not forget, this was said at the gates of the Lavra of St. Sergius, when meeting an unbeliever or a woman of little faith. And later Plato continued to sing praises to the empress, returning again and again to pagan images. “Codrus, the Athenian legislator,” he said in 1777 in Kaluga, “issuing strict laws, and therefore they are usually said to be written in blood; but about the laws of the dear Mother of the Fatherland we can sincerely say that they were written with mother’s milk” 654. In his welcoming speech to the heir to the throne, Filaret called the Trinity-Sergius Lavra “a seedbed of teaching and spiritual life,” “a treasury of gifts of grace” 655. The Laurus appeared stern, strict, and unattainable in his speeches. Plato thanked Catherine for visiting the school, for the fact that she “encouraged the students and made the music happy” 656. “Looking at all of us with a merciful eye and allowing the sweetest conversations into her,” he said, “filled our spirit with heavenly nectar and sprinkled our heart with the heavenly dew of joy” 657. In Filaret we never find mythological names in the style of the 17th and 15th-3rd centuries. Perhaps the only exception is the early sermon of 1811, but here, instead of his own name, there is a periphrastic description of “this fabulous covetous man who sought the power to turn everything into gold with his touch” 658. One can therefore guess how keenly Filaret felt the discrepancy between the forms borrowed from outside and the church and monastic way of life. He tried, whenever he could, to throw a shameful veil of oblivion over them. Having looked through the “History of Bethany” compiled by Trinity, he wrote to Archimandrite Anthony regarding the seminar allegorical verses contained in it: “What other than laughter and gossip can be produced by verses in which Jupiter gathers the gods, talks about Metropolitan Plato and decides that the parks should not cut his thread of life?” “The Bishop looked at the Bethany poems and prose as if they were children’s exercises, reading in passing and not everything,” he tried to defend Plato. “That I am forgotten by the way, I don’t want to untimely remind the world, so I hope it deigns” 659. “I already said that the Bethany verses are not suitable,” Filaret wrote with displeasure a little later, “the writer did not calm down and wrote out others in which Metropolitan Plato is the Northern Deucalion, and he is also Apollo” 660. Ex offlicio Plato had to blaspheme paganism, speak “about the fall of idols and the breaking of altars, about the disgrace of pagan mysteries” 661. He denounced those who had on their lips “the northern names of funny Venus and thundering Jupiter” 662. The famous words of Socrates “smell of pride” 663, and in the words of Cicero about death - “bold and boastful, more than a solid assurance” 664. But along with this rejection of pagan wisdom, Plato loved to decorate even his sermons with ancient legends and anecdotes: about Anaxagoras and Pericles 665, about Darius and Alexander 666, about Aristides and the villager 667. Twice he repeats the mention of the “fabulous Tantalus,” who “stood in water up to his neck, but could not get drunk” 668. Plato knew how to play with the contrasts of Ovid and the Gospel: “One ancient Roman poet wrote books of transfigurations, but strange transfigurations. He explained in a florid style that it was as if the gods transformed some people for crimes and atrocities into animals, birds, stones and other inanimate things. This poetic invention, although in itself is completely false, nevertheless contains some true basis” 669. When St. John Chrysostom, in his famous speech to an unbelieving father, speaks of Cocytus and Styx, of Tartarus and the islands of the blessed, his speech is justified by those around him: it is addressed to a pagan and mythological images are still alive. Plato's myths and ancient reminiscences are decorations. They are only ornamental, they came from outside, for beauty. Plato, however, was more moderate here than Gideon Krinovsky, in whom almost every sermon is decorated, one might say, oversaturated with mythological narratives and stories from ancient history: about the hundred-headed Hydra 670, about Prometheus 671 and even (in the sermon!) about Socrates, who met his student coming out of “some suspicious house” 672. Plato was a born court preacher. He absorbed the whole spirit of court panegyricism and all the superficial mythology of the court style. Hence this strange amalgam of Catherine’s court and the theological seminary. According to the place of delivery, all his sermons fall into three large groups: the palace, the Kremlin and Bethany. But even in the sermons of Bethany, seemingly hermits, seemingly far from the court, the same notes of court festivity sound as in the sermons of the palace. Bethany is an “hermitage”, not a monastery. Plato loved to play at simplicity, loved to emphasize the unrhetorical nature of his sermon. “Let us not honor his [instructions], I pray, for one florid preacher’s ranting: not here; and there is no need for floridity: there is one simple truth, red in its execution” 673. But it is clear that this anti-rhetoricism is only a refined form of rhetoric. In the “Preface from the Author” to his collected works, Plato asserted that “he never cared much about florid and speckled syllables.” He knew how to exalt the simple supreme apostles, “who had nothing in their hands except a net and an awl, which were their tools for their subsistence” 674. But these words about simplicity masked skillfully and artificially constructed antitheses, symmetrical periods, thoughtfulness of plan and effects. During his lifetime, Plato was called the “second Chrysostom” and the “Moscow apostle.” Both merchants and common people flocked to the Chudov Monastery to listen to him. But we do not find any tribute to this audience in the sense of popularism in his sermons. Elisabeth's preachers sometimes loved to resort to crudely realistic denunciations of lordly schemes and landowner whims. From Dimitri Sechenov we meet: “I love Christ: I have cufflinks, buckles, gold snuff boxes, silver teapots and washstands; and in the Church of Christ there are lead vessels. I love Christ: I have gold-woven curtains and blankets; and the terrible mysteries of Christ are covered with a dyed veil. I love Christ: I myself use champagne and Hungarian wines instead of kvass; and I never sent even a Volosh galenka 675 to church” 676 . Or from Gideon Krinovsky: “The path [to hell] is so wide that anyone wants to go by Berlin or by carriage: he can travel along it comfortably.” And the path to the heavenly city - “we thought that it was overgrown with flowers and soft grass, so that sometimes while driving in a caravan, we could have fun with vodka or something else; but it is regrettable" 677. We rarely see antics of this style in Plato, for example: "But others will say: 'How is there nowhere to put money? What about building houses? For decorations? For wine? For banquets? For dogs and other amusements?'" 678 In a sermon on March 3, 1784 in Chudovoy, he tells an anecdote about a widow and a drunken judge 679. Such features of rough everyday life are rare 680. The Metropolitan used to say about himself that he found the Moscow clergy in bast shoes and put them in boots; from the hallways he led him into the halls of the gentlemen. He was one of those preachers of the 18th century who knew how, or at least tried, to combine monasticism with a secular way of life and habits. Such was Gideon Krinovsky, whose wardrobe with silk and velvet robes occupied an entire room, and who loved to flaunt silk stockings and shoes with diamond buckles, in the fashion of the landowners and courtiers of that time 681. Such was Arseny Vereshchagin, who wrote poems about lovebirds 682. In 1814, Philaret had to preach in the palace in the presence of Empress Maria Feodorovna and members of the royal family. Young Filaret chose love for the world as his theme 683. “The empress was embarrassed by the cruelty of the sermon, worthy of ancient ascetic teachers,” writes a contemporary 684, “and from that time on, the voice of the young denouncer of love for the world was no longer heard in the palace church. Yes, he was not capable of being a court preacher.” Filaret was an unsurpassed master of monastic behavior; The forms of etiquette and ceremonial in Plato showed the features of a mixture of secular and spiritual. Speeches, poems, cants, fireworks, illumination 685 and the meeting of the Empress by seminarians in formal clothes, with wreaths on their heads and palm trees in their hands - all this penetrated into the Lavra from the outside. In 1775, during the stay of Empress Lavra, everything was illuminated; “and within its peaceful walls burned magnificent shields and different lights with the names of Catherine, Paul and Natalia” 686. In the era of “enlightened absolutism,” Plato could not have been more in place. The Moscow Metropolitan's acute hostility to Catholicism is known. In one of his sermons, he talked about “damned Latinism” and its “obscene altars” 687. Later, Filaret, who cannot be suspected of any sympathy for Catholicism, was forced to soften and smooth out the too harsh attacks of his predecessor 688. But it is remarkable that in contrast to the image of the Vicar of Christ, Plato developed the image of a Russian antipope. In 1764, in Tsarskoe Selo, in the presence of Ekhaterina, Plato preached a sermon on the power of the keys. He spoke in it about the keys of God handed over to great sovereigns, “not only the keys of the kingdom of earth, but also the kingdom of heaven,” and ended the sermon with an appeal to the monarch, who accepted “these heavenly keys into her sacred hands” 689. In another sermon, in 1773 in Peterhof, he spoke about Christ’s words to Peter: “Feed My sheep.” And this sermon ended with words about sovereigns - “the first shepherds whom the Supreme Ruler of Light entrusted to feed His sheep” 690. Christ’s conversation with the Apostle Peter was changed in relation to Catherine, to whom, at the hour of coronation, the King of Kings asked the same question: “My daughter! Do you love Me? Come up with Me into this covenant, and on this pledge receive the purple and the crown: feed My sheep.” “But you,” continued Plato, “kindled towards Him with pious love, loving and entrusted to you the people with the outpouring of your soul and zealous tears before Him, you proclaimed: “You, Lord, weigh everything: You weigh, for I love You, I love Your sheep too.” 691. The two most important texts on which the doctrine of papal power is based served as material for illustrating the words Catherine about himself as the head of the church - chef de l'Eglise grecque, for idyllic pictures and Caesar-papistic incense. “You graze your sheep in the green place, on the water of rest; you provide them with rich and abundant pasture, and thereby bring them happiness in the ever-blooming spring” 692. Podobedov went even further and spoke about God, who “through the person of the Monarch gave the shepherds the power of archpastorship” 693. Catherine did not like the “Khokhlovs,” that is, those representatives of the southern Russian clergy who were the bearers of the idea of ​​an independent, free hierarchy 694. Arseniy Matsievich should have died in the casemate, just as St. would have died in the casemate. Demetrius, if only he had lived to see the reign of Catherine. “You bear the image of the Heavenly King,” Plato appealed to Alexander, “in your visible glory we contemplate His invisible glory” 695. And Catherine, who “ever diligently preserved the Divine features of the image and likeness of God, printed in her heart,” was in his eyes “a visible image of the All-Holy Divinity” 696. Aivrosy Podobedov talks about the same thing even more tastelessly: “If all sovereigns are an obvious image of God, ruling in the kingdoms of the earth; then we can say without hesitation that Catherine the Great was for us the most tangible image of all the perfections of God” 697. “Chef de l'Eglise grecque,” ​​Catherine called herself in letters to Voltaire 698. Plato smoothed out everything sharp in Orthodoxy that could have grated on the ears of rationalistic enlightenment. He has nothing about asceticism, about angels, demons, miracles, very little about the Mother of God and almost nothing about dogmas. The dogma of the Holy Trinity, this stumbling block to reason, is hushed up by Plato. And it seemed that everything awakened the memory of him precisely at Trinity-Sergius, near the Lavra! Particularly characteristic is the silence about everything ascetic, about the evil and curse that weighs on the world, about the metaphysical evil that destroys nature and incinerates it. In his article on the eloquence of Massillon, Brunetière used the very apt expression “prècher dans le voisinage de la tradition et du dogme” 699 - an expression entirely applicable to Plato. Plato speaks about worldly morality around the Church. He is always a compromise, yielding to the light. When asked whether, by supplying the poor, one should bring oneself into poverty, Plato reassuringly replies that in order to supply the poor, “it is enough to separate the excess” 700. “We are not of the opinion that we would reject all innocent amusement and would advise everyone to choose a certain melancholic state of life,” he said in another sermon. 701 It is not surprising that it was at Trinity, under the shadow of the Lavra Seminary, that Hieromonk Ambrose, in a rhetoric textbook dedicated to Plato himself, formulated the following rules of good preaching tone: “When praising living sovereigns, one must beware: 1) so as not to attribute to them any properties or deeds that either do not exist in them at all, or are found contrary to them, or which they do not like; 2) not to seem overly affectionate, or to the point of meanness, servile, which many writers do not observe; but it is more important to try to observe the mediation between republican liberty and servile citizenship” 702. Plato created the Bethany Seminary, raised the Academy to unprecedented heights, but did not create a preaching tradition. Let biographers 703 list a number of preachers who were formed under his influence. Plato outlived himself; he had no successors, although he had successors and followers during his lifetime 704. Already from Platonov’s successor in the Moscow department, His Eminence Augustine of Vikhograd, who was raised under Plato at the Trinity, one can hear other tones, more severe and strict. Here are echoes of the eloquence of Elizabethan preachers, glorifying the brave Judith and courageous Jael, here is the spirit of the Alexander Empire style, seasoned in battle. The effeminacy and sybaritism of Plato's sermon, its rhetorical moralism, died with time. Young Filaret spoke about the God of armies; Plato did not know the God of armies and battles. He knew only the triumphs and victorious celebrations of the Turkish wars. On the first two printed sermons of Filaret, on the back of the title page there was: “I have read these works and do not find anything in them that is questionable for printing. Plato, Metropolitan of Moscow" 705. Here, especially in the first of the sermons, is the entire future Filaret. Plato did not find anything reprehensible or questionable in the first experiments of the future saint of Moscow, but he himself never spoke as he did. When Filaret spoke about the siege of the Trinity Lavra, the elements of fear and anger came to life: “Death outside the walls, death within the walls; death is in the air; death steals along underground paths.” And in the second sermon - on Good Friday - bitterness, harshness, stings. Contemporaries remember the year of the Moscow fire, which was the year of Plato’s death. The War of 1812 plunged him, decrepit and sick, into confusion and confusion. Eyewitnesses recall how at the end of September Plato listened to Vespers in the Makhrishchi Monastery, sometimes sitting, sometimes standing at the left choir. “It was necessary to sing the verse of Damascus: Thine is victorious; They sang something else by mistake. Then Plato suddenly stood up, as if animated by some consoling thought, exclaiming: Sing Thy victorious one! but suddenly he burst into tears; all those present were moved by his movement and began to cry” 706. Plato, sitting in a chair and silently crying at the sight of the Kremlin being abandoned, is a deeply expressive image preserved by his contemporaries. “When the capital began to empty, its streets were filled only with those leaving from it, or with convoys with military shells and the wounded; then Metropolitan Platon arrived from Bethany to take a last look at his beloved Moscow. They say that he wanted to go to the Borodino field or to Poklonnaya Hill, and with his blessing to inspire the army for the battle for Moscow. Arriving at the Chudov Monastery on August 28, he sat down in an armchair on the entrance porch and looked at the Kremlin for a long time with tears, as if saying goodbye to it and as if anticipating his eternal separation from him and his lot.” 707 The eighty-year-old man had no words, not because he already had one foot in the grave, exhausted and decrepit - the new century demanded different words, firm and merciless. Metropolitan Filaret (Drozdov) Filaret, Metropolitan of Moscow and Kolomna The twenty-third of November 1867, when the body of the deceased Filaret was solemnly transferred from the Trinity courtyard to the Kremlin, turned out to be one of the most beautiful winter days in Moscow: clear skies, bright sun, clean air and a light refreshing frost. The procession approached the Kremlin only in the evening; Zamoskvorechye was bathed in pink evening light and at the entrance to the Kremlin, illuminated by the last rays of the sun, the singing of the Quiet Light 708 was heard. “An entire historical era is going to its grave,” wrote I. Aksakov. And in fact, Filaret represents more than half a century of Russian History, half a century of intense, varied life: three styles, three eras, three reigns, from the war of the twelfth year to the Karakozov shot. He was a month older than Zhukovsky 709 and outlived him by 15 years. He outlived Pushkin, Gogol, Chaadaev, I. Kireevsky, Khomyakov and many others, although he was older than them. The world was changing before his eyes, but he remained the same, at least he tried to maintain at least the appearance of granite immutability: “Look how the spirit of true Christianity, passing through the diversity of peoples, nevertheless always remains the same and similar to itself” 710. The name Filaret was synonymous with independence and conservatism for both enemies and admirers. But his conservatism was conservatism sic generis (of a special kind). The Moscow saint knew how to destroy, when necessary, to dissociate himself from antiquity and antiquity. For Filaret, the Old Believers were “lovers of imaginary antiquity, for whom love for antiquity turned into reverence for ancient mistakes” 711. And in churches one should look “not only for ancient names and chronicle numbers, but most of all for our renewal and sanctification” 712. “Antiquity is venerable and the thought of it is majestic,” said the saint. “In it we contemplate the image of eternity, which in itself exceeds our contemplation... However, the thought of the holiness of the temple should in no way be confused with the thought of antiquity. The temple of Solomon was new when God appeared to Solomon and said: I have sanctified this church which thou hast created (1 Kings 9:3). This temple was ancient when this same God gave it over to the pagans to be desecrated and destroyed” 713. During the era of Filaret, archaeological tastes were formed and the foundation of Russian archeology was already completed. The mirage of historicism attracted the temptations of chronolatry - time worship - when holiness is measured by antiquity, and the past is considered sacred only because it is the past. The frozen bulk of centuries was always before Filaret’s eyes, but the dreamy historicism of the era was alien to him. The chain of centuries was not a distant thing; his past is the patriarchs, geronts, elders, wise leaders of the present. “Across the vast distance of times and places, the experience of the same truth is visible” 714. “They are fighting against modern ideas,” wrote Filaret in 1858. “Aren’t the ideas of Orthodoxy and morality already modern? Are they only in the past?" 715. A sense of enduring relevance has always distinguished him. The shrine and tradition were here, before my eyes. The church was the eternal “today.” For Philaret, the apostolic times, the era of Chrysostom, are as present, present, praesens as the Holy Synod and the Moscow Metropolis of the 19th century. Here, in the world of the Church, everything is given at once, outside of chronology, and everything is one eternal, never-ending day. Romantics, Shevyrev in particular, were excited and delighted by the description of the ancient desert of St. Sergius in the famous sermon for the consecration of the Mikheevsky Church. It seemed to them like a romantic reincarnation of a bygone era. But was it so?... “Who will show me the small wooden church on which the name of the Holy Trinity was named here for the first time? I would enter it for the all-night vigil, when in it, with a crackling sound and smoke, a burning torch shines for reading and singing, but the hearts of those praying burn quieter and clearer than a candle, and their flame reaches to heaven, and their angels ascend and descend in the flame of their spiritual sacrifice” 716. “After all, it’s all here: only closed by time, or enclosed in these majestic buildings, like a high-priced treasure in a magnificent ark” 717. Who in the Nicholas era walked past the panorama of the Kremlin and Moscow? Ap. Grigoriev was right when he called the description of the view of Moscow from the Kremlin Mountain a “routine technique.” Filaret did not pass her by either. But Filaret avoided that fantastic haze of historicism that veiled the romantic descriptions of the 30s. Let us at least remember the Kremlin of Zagoskin 718, which has night, the moon, memories of the heavenly homeland and Russian antiquity. “Let an ancient seer come here,” said Philaret, “let him, instead of the unclean heights of Fogor, stand with us at the blessed heights of the Kremlin, look at the numerous churches, ancient, new, carefully preserved in splendor, or renewed, or again and now with ancient zeal created: truly, I think, he would resume his ancient delight, and once again proclaim his ancient song: if good are your houses, Jacob, and your tabernacles, Israel! 719. This is a new Moscow under construction next to the old one. Romantics looked for history in the past, Russian intellectuals and “enlightenmentists” believed that “real” history had not yet begun. Filaret felt the historicity of the present, heard the invisible growth of history. In 1826, shortly after the coronation, Nicholas I visited the Trinity Lavra. In his welcoming speech, Filaret remembered both Dimitry Donskoy and Peter. But stronger was his sense of the historicity of the present - the royal pilgrimage after the recent December unrest. “The Divinely Crowned Sovereign and the Anointed One of God!” - his speech began. “From these sacred heights, which are before your eyes, five endless sights of centuries greet this moment, which multiplies the monuments of this place” 720. It would seem, at first glance, an empty compliment and banal flattery to equate Nicholas’s visit with the great historical events that the Lavra witnessed. But, remember, this visit might not have happened! When hearing Filaret’s words, one must remember Senate Square. Romanticism idealized the past, Philaret was aware of the symbolism of the past and the ancient: in the ancient - “we contemplate the image of eternity” 721. The preacher knew how to free the soul from attachment to ancient dust and in the imaginary steadfastness of physical strongholds he taught to see only the shadow of that absolute immobility. Just as the Old Day of the Bible is higher than days, accessible to the human mind only in the image of an Elder, so the holy is most perfectly and fully reflected in the images of the hoary past, old age, in itself being neither old nor young. Filaretov's conservatism is not conservatism for the sake of conservatism. This is the veneration of the past and old age, as an icon of eternity, as something that, having passed through the path of life, is rich in gray-haired, ageless wisdom. After all, old age is not always decrepitude, it is intelligence and experience, and sighted power, and the thought of heaven. But along with the conservative, a nihilist always lived in Filaret’s soul. Two equally powerful principles coexisted in his soul: the instinctive force of protection, hatred of change, fear of changing even one feature in the traditions of the church and the Motherland, and a colossal reserve of dynamite, explosive, destructive forces. Everything that seemed to modern times an impregnable fortress turned into a house of cards for Filaret. Whatever he touched, everything turned to dirt and dust. There was something burning about him, he was so able to show the heights of the Church that everything “other” turned out to lie in the valley below. In his famous poem, Pushkin with brilliant insight captured precisely this feature of Filaret’s style. The question of the sanctification of reality was never resolved by Philaret in the spirit of pantheistic sanctification. He always felt boundaries, limits, edges. He felt some kind of explosive power of Christianity - a shaking and burning power. The world of the world is “a brief slumber under the noise of a dangerous storm, security based on ignorance” 722. “Precocious and cheap prosperity” 723 he branded with a word of burning contempt. He knew that at the end of the world the power of the cross would shake the whole earth, destroy what was solid in it, bring down what was towering, and eclipse what was shining” 724. K. Leontyev, attacking “pink Christianity”, not without reason, tried to rely on the authority of Filaret 725. Unstable equilibrium - this is Filaret’s formula for the world. It is no coincidence that he spoke about the feeling of the shaking earth 726 and “the human heart is like a city, besieged from the outside and melting sedition within” 727. He knew how to undermine a person's self-confidence. Of course, he was sufficiently careful and theologically sophisticated to directly formulate the Protestant doctrine of pexe. He was saved by those adjustments and reservations that always neutralized his personal and personal. But a certain τόνοϛ, a certain mood lurking in the depths of the soul fed the Protestant idea of ​​​​the blackness and powerlessness of human nature. Filaret's view of a real person is deeply pessimistic, although many times he returns to the ideal purpose of a person and his high dignity. “The scattered and suppressed forces of our spiritual nature” 728, “a mortally ill person or a dead person who cannot grant himself health and life” 729 – these are the features Philaret paints of a fallen man. His word 730 on the day of the Annunciation in 1822 deserves special attention, where the features of human powerlessness and elements of quietism are skillfully corrected with explanations and clarifications. Personal mood and outlook receive a doctrinal amendment here, but a black view of human nature, distrust of man still lurks like a dark background behind the ingenious construction of theological thought. In an early sermon in 1814 we read: “Mip is a cave and a bed where a beast is born and raised; and a field in which the tares ripen along with the wheat, devoured by fire” 731. And in a sermon of 1829, not published during the saint’s lifetime, we read: “God creates out of nothing; therefore, if He ceased His action, nothing more than nothing would remain” 732. Filaret saw this nothingness everywhere. The Maeonism of the creature is the other side of his conservatism. Thought, feeling, will, became meonized in the face of the Almighty: human judgment paled in the light of the Highest Judge 733, science, technology paled, customs and habitual forms of thought paled. When the Right Reverend Macarius wanted to include the mind among the sources of theological science, Filaret wrote to Muravyov: “Isn’t it enough for the mind to be a small ladle with which one draws from the source?” 734 In 1818, Filaret had to audit the Moscow Theological Academy. About teaching aesthetics, he reported: “Sometimes the most difficult is used to explain the difficult. They pronounce many definitions of one thing in order to say that it has no definition. Beauty is set as the goal of poetry, to the exclusion of truth and goodness. In the students’ answers, the limit where their understanding ends and aesthetic contemplations, incomprehensible to them, begin, is often indicated by the words: says Burvek” 735. He gave an evil caricature of naive spiritual-educational dogmatism, but in essence mocked the laws of aesthetics, he was Pisarev before Pisarev. In 1862, under the supervision of the self-taught Meshkov, the renovation of the Church of St. John the Warrior in Moscow. The Bishop summoned Meshkov to him. “Why did you hold up the icon of St. so high? John the Warrior? - he asked him. - “The miraculous icon, everyone wants to venerate it, and to do this you have to climb your uncomfortable steps.” “To place the icon lower would be incongruous with the law of symmetry,” answered Meshkov, “and this inconsistency would be striking to everyone.” “Hy-y! Application occurs according to need and law,” said the bishop with a smile on his lips 736. When it came to making some changes to the state emblem and the opinion of the Moscow saint was requested, he answered with devastating humility: “Heraldry is unknown to me. However (maybe due to my ignorance), I don’t think that its laws are very important. For example, what’s the problem that the rider in the Moscow coat of arms rode to the left for a long time, while the heraldry tells him to go to the right?” 737. In 1858, Filaret had to write about geology, which more and more often began to be used against religion and which “wanted to dig up cosmogony from the graves of the ancient mineral, plant and animal world.” And here his constant desire to trim the wings of everything that is not the Church was manifested. Let geology look for anthracite, no one will argue with that. It’s not her place to decide the issues of the universe 738. He saw in geology “that grave knowledge of the earth, which, in blocks and layers, descends into its depths, as if into a grave, and with the remnants of destruction wants to interpret the life buried and remaining, without hope of resurrecting the buried and preserving the remaining” 739. Giving feedback on the summary of canon law compiled by Professor Krylov, Filaret noted that canon law is here subordinated to “ideal historical and philosophical considerations, and thus positive law is not exempt from the arbitrary impulses of legal and philosophical reason” 740. Generally speaking, he was always distinguished by distrust and contempt for the forces of de-churched philosophy. He always feared that philosophy, not based on religion, “will serve not so much to strengthen the mind as to fermentation, whirling and dangerous scouring along rapids and abysses” 741. On the day of the 100th anniversary of Moscow University, Filaret spoke, choosing the concept of truth as his topic and mentioning the distinction between the sensually manifested (φαινόμενον) and the intelligible (νοούμενον). “In these words one hears something about the truth: but isn’t there too little clarity in them? How many will comfortably and correctly understand each of them? But is the truth only for a few teachers of their own minds, and not for all humanity? And is it really necessary to take the dark path to the beginning of the world?” 742. Having introduced the terms of secular philosophy into his sermon, Filaret did not forget to emphasize the distance between it and the Church. Here is someone else’s, foreign, “not ours”: “The root and foundation of truth, the focus of truths, the sun of the mental world is pure mental representation, or, in your opinion, the idea of ​​God” 743. Back in 1813, Filaret donated a copy of Kant’s works to the library of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy - “unnecessary for my use,” as he himself wrote in a statement 744. Spinoza's philosophy was for him “the effort of the powerless to overcome power” 745. And Snegirev writes in his diary that in 1825, at a dinner with Antopsky, Filaret, “discussing German philosophy, admitted that he did not know German” 746. At the opening of the hospital at Moscow University, the saint, in exactly the same way, raised his thoughts from powerless medicine and powerless doctors to the Supreme Physician of souls and bodies. “The doctor often stands in front of the patient’s body, as if in front of a closed house, and through some holes he not so much sees as guesses what is happening inside. Body dissection opens the doors to an empty house... Who can pursue the soul along its hidden entrances and exits in the depths of gross matter, in the heights of subtle matter” 747. The nihilization of science in the name of Heaven reaches its climax in the sermon at the dedication of the University Church in 1837. Here, in essence, is the debunking of all faculties - philosophy “according to the elements of the world”, “grave knowledge of the earth”, “glass knowledge of the sky”, ancient Greek and Roman legislation, “to which time has given importance, and to which time has shown weakness” 748. Let us remember that the sermon was preached at Moscow University in the 1930s, in the presence of professors; It was easy to get lost in the debate between spiritual and secular. But Filaret immediately raised the sermon to an invulnerable height, drawing attention to “He who is Self-wisdom and the only source of all wisdom.” Instead of clericalism, Christocracy appeared. Out of tact, the preacher spoke of “just respect and love for known sciences” 749, but at the same time emphasized the difference in ranks. “And so here is a house of prayer under the same roof with a house of wisdom. The Sanctuary of Mysteries was invited into the abode of knowledge, and entered here, and here it was founded and established in its secret ways.” So he began his sermon. “It is clear that religion and science want to live together and work together for the ennoblement of humanity. Condescendingly, on the part of religion: let us thank its condescension. Prudent on the part of science: let us praise its prudence.” It seemed at first that both worlds were compared as equal: the house of prayer - the house of wisdom, “together”, “together”. But already in the next phrase, the very choice of words emphasizes the entire difference between rights and power. One could say that Filaret set the goal of all his sermons to disarm self-confidence, wherever and however it manifests itself. If we turn to the field of applied knowledge, then there we will encounter the same exposure of human weakness and powerlessness. Filaret's sermons could and were heard by textile merchants and landowners engaged in improving their farms on the basis of agronomic science. Did Philaret tell them about the mystical wedding robe, he emphasized that “this robe will not be woven in the camp and will not be brought from a foreign land” 750; whether he spoke about the labors of the farmer, he emphasized their insignificance in front of the gifts of the heavenly Farmer, who “commands his sun, through dark and cold blocks, to break through with light and warmth, and to extract from a buried seed a sprout, from a sprout a stem, from a stem flower and fruit” 751. How often parish priests turned their sermons on the consecration of churches into panegyrics for rich donors and beautifiers! But Philaret acts differently: “If someone said that he brought glory to the church of God with generous offerings, then I would repeat to him the sermon of Haggai the Prophet: My silver and my gold, says the Lord Almighty” 752. On March 26 [1837] the anniversary of Prince S. M. Golitsyn was celebrated. Filaret made a speech, but structured it in such a way that it did not sound like a greeting or panegyric. “If you expect,” he addressed those present, “for me to enter into your work, and for the one crowned by you to also weave a crown of words, I will not fulfill your expectation... The place where I stand is not appointed for the praise and glory of man, but for the proclamation of the glory of God” 753. Although praise was uttered, not for a moment did it seem as if the archpastor was greeting the prince on his own behalf; he addressed those present and put into their mouths what was essentially addressed to the prince: look... approve... honor... Filaret managed to remain above worldly triumph and did not turn into a congratulator. If necessary, he also used the “passing” figure 754. Everything was a means and a tool to arouse a feeling of imperfection. Philaret has a sermon on the topic of the publican and the Pharisee 755. Typically, preachers did not spare black paint to depict the Pharisee, who served only as a negative example of false piety 756. Filaret contributed his own, Filaret’s, here too. He even used the image of a Pharisee not to depict negative traits, but to arouse in his listeners a feeling of humility, a feeling of being worse than a Pharisee. The Pharisee prays “within himself” - this is better than those who pray only with their lips; he gives praise to God, and this is better than those who think in prayer only about what they need; he fasts more than required by law and gives tithes from all acquisitions to the Church. “We must be careful lest we remain more alien to justification than the unjustified Pharisee.” Everything was humiliated and everything was made small. And all this was done by “the humble Philaret, Metropolitan of Moscow,” a strange conservative who did not find anything in the world worthy of protection and preservation: “Without the saints, the world would not be worthy of God’s preservation, and could not stand” 757. Is it worth reminding that the question of the sanctification of reality during the time of Filaret was the subject of deep reflection by Archimandrite Fedor (Bukharev). It would hardly be correct, however, to consider the famous dispute “about the relationship of Orthodoxy to modernity” exclusively in the context of its historical forms, that is, to contrast Fr. Feodor of his historical opponent – ​​Askogensky. The figure of Askogensky is accidental. Not Askogensky, but Philaret should be taken as the representative of the alterius partis. When Askogensky, in his usual arrogant journalistic tone, declared that “Christ does not need barometers,” he was talking about something the spirit of which he did not understand and of which he was not called to be a defender. Rozanov was right in asserting that Askogensky was alien to any sense of sacredness. “This is the Büchner of the Büchners, who by chance only graduated from teaching not in Germany and not at the Faculty of Natural Sciences, but in Kyiv and at the Theological Academy, but who completely applied to spiritual subjects the tricks, uncleanliness and “dross” (his term) of the crudest materialism and complete atheism” 758. The Light of the Lamb, shining even in pagan darkness, the spark of Christ hidden in pagan darkness—to these thoughts of Fr. Fyodor can only be contrasted with Filaret's light, which hurts the eyes - the destructive dynamite of Christianity, which does not tolerate the touch of the worldly, turning the world into rubble. “The Lord spares the sons of the world when he is not. For can dry grass also withstand the presence of fire, as does gold, which is purified and perfected by it? Will he instantly turn her into ashes and dust? 759. The light in Plato's sermons was a soft light, as if spilled in the air, the light of candelabra and chandeliers; Filaret's light is sharp and hard. Filaret takes light in its extreme, maximally intense states. Pain in the eyes from light is a common and characteristic image for Philaret: “the light of truth that burns the eyes” 760, “extraordinary phenomena for which one must have an eagle’s eye so as not to be overshadowed by an excess of light” 761. “Do not direct the daring flight of your searching thought into this immeasurable height: there is an unapproachable light” 762. “If your eye faints before the created light of the visible sun, how will not the eye of your mind, uncleaned from dirt, faint before the light of the eternal Sun of spirits, before which even the highest of the Angels cover their faces?” 763. After such passages, let the reader take the sermons of Plato. He will be amazed by the contrast. Fear and the feeling of distance will disappear. “At Sinai, everyone, looking at the phenomenon, was horrified and did not dare to approach, so as not to be struck by death; on Tabor, although the apostles fell to the ground, it was not from fear, but from joyful delight: for not only were they not afraid to approach this mountain, but they also wished and asked that three canopies be erected on this very rope and establish their eternal stay on it” 764. Plato spoke about joyful delight"; Philaret is still terrified here, on Tabor. “Moses trembled at Sinai; Elijah complained about Horeb; in the Apostles on Tabor, joy shines through the horror” 765. Groznoe, tremendum is an integral sign of a shrine. Fear, metaphysical, noumenal fear lies at the basis of religion. There is fear in heaven, and there is fear in the Angels 766. “If you know what the fear of a slave before the king, accused and guilty before an impartial judge, is, then by increasing the measure even to immensity, you can understand what a person’s fear of God should be like.” 767 Before the eyes of the saint were the words of the Apostle: perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4-18). But he hastens to give his interpretation of these words of the apostle of love: “While love casts out fear, so that man may enjoy the triumph of grace, humility calls back fear, so that the blessed one may not forget his unworthiness” 768 . Rosy Christianity prefers to place emphasis in the Eucharist on the bloodlessness of the sacrifice, forgetting that in the sacred cup is the true blood of Christ. Philaret resurrects in the liturgy the horror and fear of Golgotha: The very same thing that on Golgotha ​​made all creation tremble, shook the earth, crushed the stones, and brought mortal darkness upon the life-giving eye of the world" 769. Let us also recall those descriptions of Golgotha, which are illuminated by gloomy tragic reflections - when “even the stones felt universal fear” 770, when “the earth trembled and the stones, sighing, burst, and the sun fainted” 771. “This day is a day of hostility and horror, a day of wrath and vengeance. But if so: what will happen to us when the earth is not solid under us, and the sky above us is not calm? Where to escape from the shaking earth? Where to escape from under the threatening sky? 772 Filaret reaches the heights of formidable pathos in the words spoken during the cholera period of the 30th year, when “the destroying angel was seen and his sword was drawn” 773, when the destroying angel “walked in the footsteps and houses” 774. “Be careful how you walk dangerously” 775 - these apostolic words could serve as an epigraph to all Philaret’s sermons. But in the alarming and terrible year of the thirties, his warning words sounded especially sharp and menacing: “Is it a place to sleep carelessly on the edge of an abyss? God has placed us on the scales of His justice, so that one speck of dust added to the weight of our sins, one minute not used to alleviate this weight, can cast us down” 776. The feeling of distance and fear is the main feeling of Filaret’s sermons, their tone. The shrine does not allow anything unholy or unsacred within its boundaries. The sacred repels reality; it is surrounded by a force field that throws everything dark and fallen beyond its boundaries. Consciousness, an almost physical sense of limits and boundaries constituted Philaret’s distinctive feature. Russia during the Filaret era was losing this feeling; they began to see something shameful, almost criminal, in the uniform. The depth of the Russian spirit was seen in the amorphous anarchy of loose “good feelings” and familiarity. Facets and never confusion - this is all Filaret. Not “all in all,” but crystals, boundaries, solid outlines of a diamond. Filaret went against the era, against the tide; he demanded isolation and separation where his contemporaries preferred to talk about solidarity, harmony and synthesis. Perhaps only K. Leontiev managed to formulate this Filaretian sense of edges and form. “Form is the despotism of the internal idea, which does not allow matter to scatter. By breaking the bonds of this natural despotism, the phenomenon perishes... Plant and animal morphology is nothing more than the science of how an olive does not dare become an oak, how an oak does not dare become a palm tree, etc.” 777 Filaret draws a sharp line of demarcation between “ours” and “yours,” spiritual and secular 778. Only “joy shines through horror” 779 is humanity in its very severity 780. Only limitation and negation give the certainty of a thing, only severity and fear determine the clarity of forms. Love does not destroy these facets, emphasizing them even more. “Come closer,” Philaret urged, “and look at the formidable face of God’s justice, and you will definitely recognize in it the meek gaze of God’s love” 781. It is in the formidable face and only in the formidable face that the gaze of love is found. The God of mercy cannot cease to be the God of truth 782. Particularly expressive in this regard is Filaret’s word about jealousy, which is most far removed from rosy all-tolerance. For Spinoza, jealousy was a complex (and essentially shameful) combination of love, hatred and envy. For Filaret, jealousy is a spiritual fire, a complex action of the mind and love 783. Fanaticism and exclusivism cease to seem like the shameful stain that the intelligentsia would like them to be. It is very instructive to reconsider the entire range of Filaret’s images from the point of view of this philosophy of boundaries and prohibitions. Меч, суд и казнь стоят в центре. There is some kind of clarified, “sublimated” cruelty in his favorite images. In an early sermon in 1811, he recalled the Old Testament plagues: the flood, the destruction of Sodom, the tomb of lust. And even earlier, in 1806, a certain barbness and cruelty was felt in his sermons 784. He spoke about the vengeful waves of the flood and executions, about “the sword of God hidden in nature itself and in the ordinary course of human affairs” 785, about the formidable word of God striking like an arrow 786, about a scourge woven from the words of truth and chastity 787. “Strike the flesh with the blows not of a knife or a whip, but of a spiritual word: to those who laugh: blessed are those who weep now” 788, - “and kill innocent joy, and kill sinful joy” 789. «Жажду приятного угаси жаждою голгофскою; в сладости земные положи оцет и желчь, поднесенные распятому Господу» 790 . Christ is the “King of the crown of thorns” 791, clothing is “universal and constant mourning, imposed by repentance, after the death of primitive innocence” 792. Thorns and mourning, “eternal scorching tears” 793 are images typical of Filaret. Suffering is a cosmic category, indestructible and indelible: “Which tree is more kind to the heli-graduator? - is it not the one that suffers more for the heli-grader? Which water preserves its nature more intact? - is it not the one who rests less and groans more, being driven by fate, expressed by it in the law of gravity, and crushed against stones” 794 . Go through all the degrees of visible creatures, go through all areas of earthly nature: where is there no suffering? What doesn’t suffer?” 795 “The path of virtue goes uphill: steep, narrow, strewn with thorns” 796. Filaret felt religion as a rigid, harsh law and irreligious existence as lawlessness. Hence the trial and execution. The entire human race seems to him divided into judges and defendants - saints and all other people 797. The church itself is not only a house for prayer, but also the judgment seat of God 798. The entire speech before the swearing in for the election of judges 799 is entirely devoted to the metaphysics of court and justice. Defendants and slaves – that’s what Filaret saw in the world. They saw Filaret as a serf owner and measured him with the yardstick of political parties. But this characterization is shallow and narrow-minded. He felt the metaphysical slavery of a corrupted creature, the ontology of slavery, he was distinguished by the consciousness that a person is born a slave and goes to the grave as a slave, unless a ray of heavenly grace touches the soul. The prison was an eternal symbol of peace. Only the Church makes you free. “Prisoner of the world” 800, “dungeon of the world” – these expressions from Filaret are not accidental. Mip – “gloomy Eshpeth, spiritual crampedness” 801. “Heavenly spirits” 802 descend into the gloomy and stuffy region of the earth “like a cellar or a mining cave.” “What is the whole earth, after paradise, if not a spacious prison? What is a person in general if not a convicted criminal of the law of paradise, an exile of paradise, a captive of sin, a prisoner of mortal flesh that burdens the soul? And Your purity was not disdained. You have come; and in this prison, for this criminal, exile, captive, prisoner, I erected Your Golgotha ​​altar of the cross” 803. Filaret's thinking is prison thinking. He preached sermons in prison churches more than once, but he always felt like a forced slave, a prisoner. All his sermons are prison sermons. He wrote to Muravyov: “My days disappear, perhaps only in vanity, and not in action, but they disappear: so that I do not know how to catch them and use them at will” 804. He complained to Anthony: “One bishop is at a loss as to whether a bigamist should wear a surplice: they send me a decree so that I answer this difficulty. One governor noticed that people were freezing in a snowstorm, unable to find their way to the village: I must tell you whether to ring the bell. In both capitals they want to give the burial to the tax farmer: I have to look into the matter and explain that there will be grumbling against the tax farmer and the authorities” 805 . And with secret passionate lyricism, usually so carefully hidden, the words of the archpastor in the Trinity-Sergius Lavra sound: “But to me, who talk for a short time with the desert and about the desert, and then remain for a long time in rumors and the cares of the city and human affairs, who will give me a krill like a dove; and I’ll fly and rest? Can I say to myself, or when will I finally be able to say: behold, I fled and settled in the desert? When I am relieved from the burden of strangers, in order to turn all my care to the relief of my own, but not by teaching others, I myself will not be turned off (1 Cor. 9:27)” 806. Filaret liked to repeat the same text about wings in his letters. And in the year of his death he wrote to Archimandrite Anthony: “Who will give me krill and fly, and rest in the Lavra and in the monastery? But things really confuse me” 807. Metropolitan Plato sounded the same text completely differently: “O sweetest and comforting voice! You, Lord Jesus, have already been lifted up from the earth; We are all ready: draw us to you. Complete the work entrusted to You, and glorify us with the glory by which You are glorified. Who will give us a krill like a dove, so that we may fly with You and rest in peace!” 808 Metropolitan Plato’s wings were late Baroque wings, these are eyes raised to the sky in a Baroque style (an image in the late Baroque style). “Prayer gives wings to the spirit,” says Plato, “and when with it he flies to the mountain villages and fixes his eyes on the sweetest sight of the majesty of God, then he is beside himself and can say with the Apostle raptured to the third heaven: whether in the body, or without the body, we do not know, God knows (2 Cor. 12:2) 809. The wings of Filaret are the wings of the desert. Philaret’s famous sermon on the consecration of the Micahian Church is almost entirely devoted to the desert and wings. “To break all ties that bind us to the world, to flee from it, like the Israelites from Egypt, like Lot from Sodom” - this is the path to God 810. Philaret’s wings carry a person into the desert, and then from the desert into the sky, into that “eternally safe city, from which there will be no need to escape into any desert” 811. A soul weighed down by sensuality is “a bird with wings weighed down with lead”, which “only beats on the ground, instead of ascending to the sky” 812. Fasting and prayer are the wings of the spirit, elevating it to God 813. The more good a person becomes, the lighter the yoke of Christ becomes on his shoulder, turning into “wings that constantly carry him to heaven” 814. When looking at the materials for Philaret’s biography, the least impression of desert is created: here there is correspondence about music on Tverskoy Boulevard, and about the Orders of St. Vladimir, and about consistory trifles and slander. “He plunged, so to speak, to the very bottom of the trifles of spiritual administration,” testifies a contemporary 815. And yet, in Moscow, in the prison of the Trinity courtyard, there was a desert, an internal desert, inconspicuous to the external eye, for isn’t it significant that all the literature that we study in the history of Russian literature somehow got by without Filaret and he didn’t even find a place in it. The proximity of such persons as Sushkov and Muravyov, with their false eloquence and pathos, only emphasizes loneliness. The desert of hermits reigned within the world itself and its bustle - the whole world appeared deserted and desolate. Filaret always had an executing principle, and, undoubtedly, there were moments when he turned this executing weapon on himself. And he, together with the world, abolished himself before the throne of the Almighty. Silence and desert reigned suddenly, for a minute, like a momentary cessation of breathing. It is not mystical fusion, not contemplation, not drowning in the abyss of the divine that determines Filaret’s spiritual experience. The personality did not dissolve in God, but was destroyed, humiliated, like a sacrifice. Filaret’s mystical experience is a momentary death, the murder of one’s self in the face of the Incomprehensible, suicide. It is impossible to depict this abolition of oneself among the bustle of everyday affairs better than what was done by Philaret himself. “A life of silence is not for many. But visiting silence should be desirable for everyone. He who does not abolish himself, even once a day, even for a short time, from every external earthly occupation, care, addiction, and does not bring his soul into reverent silence before God: he has not yet learned the path of peace for his soul” 816. God and the shrine are deadly to the creature - such was Philaret’s secret conviction. The whole world appeared devastated in his eyes, poisoned by the bitterness of pessimism and skepticism. Mip – Babylon, i.e. xaoc, confusion, is what was most hated by Philaret, a fan of borders and facets 817. In this perception of the world as Babylon is the tragedy of Filaret’s worldview. Filaret absolutely lacked any hints of chiliasm, of belief in an earthly paradise and this-worldly harmony. His worldview is Christian pessimism, the affirmation of suffering and pain, “the narrow path,” as natural and inevitable. He perceived everything like blind Babylon, as evil and bestial, subject to curbing, bringing into narrow, rigid boundaries. He saw an enemy in the world and debunked it, exposing its illusory nature. And along with this, he affirmed theocracy, that is, the subjection of everything to the jurisdiction of the Church 818. The very thing that the theocracy claimed rights to, they themselves turned into zero, emptiness. He claimed to conquer everything and he himself destroyed it all. Thus, Filaret’s theocracy committed suicide and destroyed its own property. Filaret was sharply hostile to the Catholic theocracy, reproaching it for secularizing the spiritual and being enslaved to the secular. He put forward the power of the Church as absolutely independent of everything worldly. “Goodness and blessing to the king, patron of the altar; but the altar is not afraid of falling even without this protection” 819. In fact, Filaret’s behavior was a skillfully disguised compromise. “You have to give something up to them too: otherwise everything will be taken away” 820. And he, for whom the canons of the ecumenical councils and the times of the apostles were eternally new, ageless today, easily put up with the orders of contemporary Russia. “Why be annoyed with police officials when they execute police laws?... It is impossible to make the nineteenth century the fourth or fifth, and the Vologda province the Thebaid” 821. Absolute anarchy, skillfully disguised, the demand for unlimited power over everything with the deepest contempt for everything - these are the tragic antinomies that underlay Philaret’s personality. When Filaret made speeches of greeting to the kings, his words sounded authoritative and independent. The saint could never allow anything that would undermine the dignity of the hierarchy. Plato's greetings sometimes turned into hyperbolic praise, his floridness bordered on the flattery of a courtier. Filaret spoke to the kings as a hierarch anointing them to the kingdom. Filaret’s review of his predecessor is interesting: “Plato had many things that were awkward. For example, once they were waiting for Emperor Alexander at the Lavra. Metropolitan Platon wished to arrange the meeting so that the pupils would hold palm branches in their hands. But where to get palm trees? It’s not right to send to Palestine for them! That's why they cut the sedges. The students sang when they met: Meets the Russian Tsar... Plato began his speeches with the loyal “Most Gracious Sovereign!”; Filaret invariably begins with a restrained address befitting the priesthood: “Most pious sovereign!” Filaret never said “you” to the sovereign, while Plato often, after the rhetorical “you”, stumbled into the worldly “Your Imperial Majesty” 823. In order to be imbued with all the majestic severity of Philaret’s speeches, one should remember the situation in which they were delivered: at the entrance to the church, in full vestments, with lit candles, the Metropolitan met the monarch. He did not come out to greet him as a subject, but introduced God’s anointed into the house of God as a shepherd. The style of Filaret’s speeches is the style of the ascetic-military reign of Nicholas. And Filaret not only organically could not assimilate Plato’s ceremony, he would not have met with a response from the emperor himself. Restraint and height of praise were needed. And only occasionally, in the absence of the emperor, could one allow oneself a panegyric etymologization - talking about Nicholas - “Conqueror of the People” 824. Filaret said that he was not afraid of the “altar of fall” even without royal patronage; and, nevertheless, he was overcome by anxiety and doubt every time he had to take a personal relationship to the royal throne, a relationship not provided for by the canons of traditions and legends. He was worried and hesitated whether to send the icon to Alexander II 825. “What is done according to the accepted rule and custom, I do with the thought: this is how it should be; and I remain at peace in relation to what follows. But when something above custom appears, then I ask myself: who am I to act with boldness? - and I don’t find the answer.” Everything new, without precedent, filled his soul with fear. And only in the field of tradition was he an unsurpassed master and arbiter. He noticed the slightest error against the religious order, tact, ceremonial, no matter what we were talking about - the consecration of a church, coronation or the internal routine of communities of sisters of mercy. “The sisters get coffee in the morning and then go to the liturgy. The order would be better if they listened to the early liturgy and then went to have coffee from it” 826. When, during the consecration of St. Isaac's Cathedral, it was planned to make a procession around the monument to Peter and proclaim eternal memory in front of the monument, Filaret immediately felt the incongruity of these actions in view of the “equestrian statue” 827. His subtle sense never left him, even in the area of ​​human relationships, small and invisible. He owned the secret of “good church tone” and could never allow church tactlessness 828. He could sin against the aesthetic canon, but never against the church style. He condemned the introduction of theatrical operatic style into church singing 829 and deeply felt the inconsistency with the church style of baroque angel heads and other ornaments: “They will stretch a luxurious garland of different herbs and flowers along the walls, and place angel heads on it in places. After all, it seems plausible; But could there be anything more absurd than this, just because an angel is not a starling? Is there a place for him in meadows and flower beds?” 830 “Filaret is a member, a knot, a link, or, perhaps, the head of sacred ceremonies, and ceremonial sacred gestures, and ceremonial words,” writes Romanov, “and part of his historical glory lies in his extraordinary skill, in the genius of tact in these movements. Who will deny that for the 19th century, and maybe even for all centuries, Filaret is, so to speak, the consummator of the splendor of the church in the sense of “divorces” and “divorces,” “blue on silk” - and these wonderful blessings to the people, and majestic words on a holiday, and a short forged note to a rich benefactor, and a letter fragrant with intelligence and religion to the Empress” 831. And for all that, there was not a shadow of theatricality or decorativeness in Filaret’s actions. In the Church of Gethsemane at the Trinity, they wanted to gild only the front side of the iconostasis, facing the worshipers. “It’s unpleasant,” noted Filaret, “to see the empty wood of the iconostasis in the altar, when the front side is gilded: there is inconsistency and insincerity here, they want to boast in front of the audience, but the shrine, they say, will not condemn. But this will not happen when there is a tree on both sides of the iconostasis” 832. We read a completely similar judgment in another letter to Archimandrite Anthony: “A copper chain to a silver lamp: I don’t like this hypocrisy, especially in church. If we can’t get cepe6pa for any thing, we’ll make it all copper and say it’s copper” 833 . Filaret hated decorativeness and theatricality with all the strength of his soul. Filaret did not disguise himself with imperious speeches to the kings and the thoughtfulness of the ceremony. He didn't play theocracy. A verified tradition, where every step has been tested for centuries, was a challenge to Babylon. Conservatism became a weapon of struggle and an instrument of destruction, turning into its opposite. Young Philaret, when he was a hieromonk, compiled a “Note for teaching higher rhetoric,” in which he referred people inexperienced in eloquence to Burgius and Léger 834 . And much later he continued to refer to Burgius, from whom he himself studied. “I no longer studied according to Burgius,” writes Gilyarov-Platonov. “But our fathers studied according to Burgius, and the late Filaret, angry at the cleverness of literature teachers, persistently asked about him: “Yes, force them to teach according to Burgius! Why don’t they teach according to Burgius?” “It’s difficult, Your Eminence, for the students,” answered the rector, shielding the teacher. - “I don’t know why they’re having difficulty. I remember that I didn’t have any difficulty when I was studying.”835 With the “eternal” Burgius he wanted to destroy everything external. Philaret’s pessimistic bitterness and sharp mind easily disarmed complacent or self-confident dreams of progress. From the outside he seemed like an “obscurantist” and an “ultra-conservative.” It seems different these days, when the naive, straightforward theory of progress has been archived. And wasn’t he right in 1834, at the height of romanticism and literature-trade, when he said: “Wisdom has become nothing more than an industry, and knowledge is a commodity, books and shows are filled with crimes and horrors, like dungeons and places of execution” 836. He attacked the theory of fatalistic progress, according to which “there is little importance in how you strike with your insignificant oar the wide river of time, which already flows, and everything that floats along it leads to the sea of ​​perfections” 837. The history of the new Europe was chaos in his eyes. “The uncontrollable spirit of restlessness and anxiety leads some to the ignition of rage, others to the stupor of bewilderment; and the stacks of cities are covered with the dead from the plague of civil strife" 838 . “The solid land there turns into a turbulent sea of ​​peoples” 839, there “anarchy wants to be the beginning” 840, wrote Filaret. All this is opposed by the “calm firmness of Russia” 841. “When it gets dark outside, they turn up the lights in the house. Take care, Russia, and kindle your home light more strongly: because beyond your borders, according to the word of the prophet, darkness covers the earth, and darkness covers the tongues (Is. 60:2)” 842. And if there is a “dark West”, then “Russia stands firmly and calmly, like a stone mountain, at the foot of which the waves crash 843. This cliched official ideology of the 40s and even the image of the sea and horror are not new. But in letters and in oral conversation other thoughts slipped through. “It seems that we already live on the outskirts of Babylon, if not in it itself,” he said in 1840 844. “How our time is like the last! The salt is overwhelming. The stones of the sanctuary fall into the mud onto the street,” he wrote to Innokenty Dmitrovsky 845. “I look with grief and fear at the abundance of people who deserve defrocking.” Nihil, Xaoc, he saw the night outside the fence of the Church, and only behind the fence? In the last years of Philaret’s life, at the height of the nihilistic movement, in 1861, in Moscow parishes began to read the prayer of the festive lithium more often than usual, praying that the Lord would turn away from us all anger righteously driven towards us, and deliver us from his impending and righteous punishment. When rumors began to spread about this, Filaret was forced to explain that the prayer was read, although not according to his instructions, but according to the example, and that the note with the text of the prayer was sent without a signature, “so that it would not be mistaken for an order.” But whether by order or by example, it doesn’t matter (the reference to the absence of a signature is essentially a bureaucratic excuse), it is important that Filaret sensed the danger, that in his response letter to Governor General Tuchkov he had to talk about the materialism of Sovremennik and the student movement 846. One of Philaret’s dreams, dating back to 1836, is extremely interesting and best characterizes his constant feeling of fear of chaos, of the possible invasion of the secular into the realm of the sacred. “I entered the Nevsky Lavra Cathedral,” says Filaret, and on the left side I saw a door to another, smaller church, which does not exist in reality. In this church I saw several retirees from the school service. Two were getting dressed, and one was asking me for a seat. From the west I heard music, then knocking, and finally, they were carrying the furniture on which they sat or slept into the altar. In the iconostases of both churches, gilding was visible, but the images were not clear. The light was as if from night lighting, but there was not a single lamp in sight. In a large church, the grass of a traveler grew through the icon on the top. I was about to go to the western doors of the large church; but turning to look at the inside again, I saw that the inside of half the church was lowered three steps lower than the outer part, the floor was not level, and the floor stones were separated from one another. Approaching the altar, I could not see the royal doors; and turning again to go out, I saw a large bell in the middle of the church, hanging so low that someone walking on my left began to hit it on the edge with his hand and shake it. I begged not to do this, because the bell might fall; they didn’t listen to me; the bell fell without hitting me, although I was standing very close and could not move away; I saw a crack on it. It was unpleasant for me that I was present at this, although I did not participate; and I woke up. It is strange that a dream, so complex (I have also shortened some details), is still clearly remembered in all parts” 847. A plantain sprouted on the floor, scattered stones of the floor, a crack in the bell, the abomination of desolation in a holy place, an insult to a shrine (the sofa in the altar) - here is everything that Filaret was so afraid of in reality and that in such a strange way resembles the church of Gogol’s “Viy”. There was something apocalyptic in Filaret, not so much a fear of the end and catastrophe as a foreboding of judgment and wrath. His sermons convey a heightened sense of crime. “Now is the judgment,” they all seemed to say. What answer will we give before the Throne of the Most High? - their leitmotif. Let us recall that in the original edition of “Studies of the Apocalypse” by Archimandrite Fyodor, “the outpouring of seven torches of God’s wrath” is attributed precisely to the time of Nicholas I, and Philaret is considered as a hierarch who heard and announced to the children of the Church “the inevitability of the great wrath of the Lord on the Christian world” 848. Filaret was always wary of any apocalyptic fantasies and arbitrary mystical fortune-telling. Nevertheless, Bishop Nicodemus 849 recalls a copy of the Bible with Philaret’s notes: “I remember the marks in the Apocalypse; above some Angel with a trumpet it is marked on the field: “Mrs. Gion?” In the sermons of the 20s, persistent eschatological notes can be heard. “Notice, Christians, how the signs of His coming are multiplying from day to day” 850. “If the time one thousand eight hundred years before ours was already called the end of summer, then our days, of course, hang even lower at the end of centuries, above the abyss of eternity” 851. “Look around, you who live on earth and sea; won’t you already notice this rage [of the devil] in its very action around you?” 852. These notes later become less pronounced (I mean sermons); Filaret himself is becoming more and more cautious and wary. But he clearly and distinctly foresaw the possibility that all our literature, art, journalism, everyday life, all our “customs disfigured by vanity” could be thrown into the fire like tares. Philaret’s apocalypticism is the expectation of judgment, eternal vigil in anticipation of the Heavenly Judge. Fantasy and imagination for him are the lowest abilities of the human spirit 853. Sleep and dreaming are the immersion of the life of the soul into the life of the body, when it “is hidden in a closed, non-voluntary movement of members, and barely breaks through with ghostly ideas” 854. “Where there is no sleep at all, although there is eternal peace,” this is what the preacher says about heaven 855. “Everyone who saw Metropolitan Philaret in the last years of his life,” we read in one of the obituaries 856, “remembers his emaciated face, his yellowing gray hair, his weak appearance, but also his lively, so expressive eyes, his so penetrating gaze, burning with clarity of mind.” These lively eyes are involuntarily remembered by anyone who has seen at least once a portrait of the saint. In these eyes there is all the sharp insight of Filaret’s mind, incessant sobriety, eternal vigilance of thought that does not close the eyes. Filaret did not tolerate fantasy. From himself and others he demanded sober precision, precision bordering on dryness. He did not allow dreams of the future, apocalyptic, chiliastic, just as he did not tolerate romantic fantasies about the past. Always be ready for an answer - that’s what he demanded, prohibiting both himself and others from apocalyptic dreams. From the Apocalypse he took only judgment and wrath. Filaret perceived every word of his sermon not as a word “to the wind,” but as a word that “cannot be cut out with an axe,” as a word associated with obligations and responsibility, as a word of a canonical, legal document. The text of a law, agreement, or obligation cannot be ambiguous. That's what preaching is. Filaret demanded from himself and from others a thrifty, reverent attitude to the word. Every single one of his sermons can serve as an example of the reasonable and economical use of words - not a single word is superfluous and not a single inaccurate one. “Words are not trifles,” the saint wrote, “when it comes to dogmas and saints, and especially at a time when the correctness and precision of the word must be protected with understanding from the increase in writing inattention to the laws of language, logic and taste” 857. Filaret loved to give a gradation of subtle semantic shades, to dissect with the sharp edge of analysis what is similar and synonymous: “not only those threatened with destruction, close to destruction, already perishing, but also those who have died” 858, “not into the true desert of peace and silence, but into spiritual and sensual desolation” 859. The text of the last edition edited by the author is considered to be the canonical text. But with regard to Filaret, it would be deeply mistaken to limit ourselves to the text of the edition of 1848–1861. This edition features a mature and senile Filaret, correcting the mistakes and omissions of his youth. In the revised text of early sermons, we often cease to sense the young Philaret of the era of Alexander’s reign. Everything is full of reservations, insertions, clarifications. Filaret after 1825–26 drier, more reserved, cautious. The tone of his speech is more solemn, stricter. The fear that his words will be misinterpreted does not leave him. He eliminates rhetorical figures that could give the slightest reason for misinterpretation. Thus, in the 1848 edition, he replaces the words about the army of the Bethlehem infants, who “ransomed the life of the universal Redeemer” 860, with the phrase “sacrificed for life.” In the Good Friday sermon of 1816, early editions read: “No! It is not men here who swear at God’s majesty: God’s Providence laughs at the riot of man, forcing him to serve His highest Wisdom.” This laconicism in later editions is complicated by reservations and clarifications: “No! The blasphemers of Calvary also do not know what they are saying, just as the crucifiers do not know what they are doing; in fact, it is not people here who swear at God’s majesty: God’s Providence laughs at the riot of man without violating freedom, forcing him to serve His highest Wisdom” 861. Filaret makes his speech drier and more abstract. “One can imagine,” we read in the early edition, “what an emptiness remained in the hearts of the Apostles and for them in the whole world, after the departure to heaven of Jesus, Who was One for them all in the world. And this terrible emptiness is suddenly filled with a single word by heavenly powers.” In the final edition, the word “emptiness” was replaced by the phrase “immeasurable deprivation”, the emotional epithet “terrible” disappeared, the pictorial “suddenly, in one word” was replaced by the words “they hasten to make up” 862. In an early sermon in 1811 we read the following careless formulation: “The Trinitarian was divided, so to speak, in gradual revelations.” In a later edition, this passage sounds theologically more precise and abstract: “The One Trihypostatic One, by ineffable goodness, again approached the alienated one in gradual revelations” 863. We could continue the examples endlessly. But already from the above it is clear how Filaret himself retouched the sometimes uneven, imprecise, but expressive language of his early sermons. The image that emerged in the vague twilight was finished, polished, and minted. And sometimes he was ruined by these countless “however”, “although”, “however”. In the sermon on the Stone of Peter in the original edition we read: “Ap. Peter is the first to be placed at the foundation of the building of the Church of Christ, the first to receive the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven and the power to bind and decide.” “It is said to him first: on this rock I will build my Church, although not exclusively to him, because the Church is built on the foundation of Anocmol and the Prophet is the cornerstone of Jesus Christ himself (Eph. 2:20); he is the first to receive the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven and the power to knit and decide (Matt. 16:16–19), although, after this, the same power was granted to all the Apostles (Matt. 17:18)” 864. Who does not see here the secret meaning of these reservations, which should protect against even the shadow and hint of Catholic interpretation? With reservations of caution and censorship, Filaret sometimes spoiled magnificent periods. “Whoever wants to be the village of the Son of God must have a fatherland in the one God, and, with all the attachment to the earthly fatherland, however very natural and righteous, consider it only the forecourt of the heavenly” 865. There is the least amount of rhetoric, words and constructions for the “beauty of the style” (“Words are not trifles”). And if artistry does not give precision, away with it. Is it worth recalling here the famous episode during the cholera of 1830, when Philaret’s words about David falling into the temptation of vanity 866 caused speculation? “The sovereign is not the cause of our disaster,” he had to correct himself in the next sermon, “as David once was the first cause of the disaster of Jerusalem and Israel (although, of course, due to the sins of the entire people): however, with David’s self-sacrifice, he accepts participation in our disaster” 867. How many reservations in one period! He demanded from the preacher absolute infallible accuracy - accuracy of theological formulas and accuracy of historical pictures. Fantasy has no right to distort or even supplement the evidence of the Bible. Speaking about the burial of the body of Christ by Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus, he curbs the flight of fancy with the word of Scripture: “Let us imagine what happened in this tomb cave in the evening, and further on Saturday evenings... let us imagine not according to our arbitrary dreams, but according to the instructions of the word of truth” 868. Once, among the sketches for one of the Moscow churches, the Metropolitan was presented with a picture of the Sinai legislation: on the top of a mountain, dimly, in the twilight, a kneeling Moses was depicted, with his arms outstretched upward to receive the tablets of the law, as if floating above him in the air. Having examined the drawing, the bishop said: “No one was an obvious witness to how the Lord handed the tablets to Moses, and Moses himself did not betray anything about this in the Scriptures. Therefore, this whole picture is just a guess, an arbitrary invention,” and in the drawing he marked a large cross 869 with a pencil. At times Filaret seems like a naturalistic protocolist. In 1859, he wrote to Chief Prosecutor Count A.P. Tolstoy about the icon of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary in the iconographic calendar: “The Blessed Virgin, just born, is depicted already sitting on the hand of a nanny or relative. Near the chairs are canopies with drapery or curtains, and right there is the city wall; all this is not in nature" 870. However, Filaret’s reality is broader than the reality of the “natural school”. Among the paintings from the Apocalypse that were to be published, his attention was drawn to the image of the Lamb on Mount Zion. “The light does not come from the Lamb,” notes Filaret, “but falls on it from above... Isn’t this a denial of the Divinity of Christ?” 871 In other words, the shining Lamb is “natural” with its own light, and the one illuminated from above is “unnatural”. Filaret's accuracy and truthfulness had nothing to do with the cynicism of so-called realism. Filaret was organically alien to Russian drunken repentance on the market square. “Sewage exists,” he wrote, “but only someone deprived of common sense, or someone who has lost all sense of decency, can decide to take it out into the street and show it to the people.”872 You need to be able to be silent, to hide. Cynicism, hiding behind words about merciless truthfulness and sincerity, was incomprehensible to him. He contrasted realistic “sobriety” with his eternal sobriety. Naturalism claimed to call things by their proper names. But who gave things these “own” names? The language of naturalism was for Filaret the language of a declassed consciousness, a thieves' language, argot. The language of Filaret himself was not “rhetoric”, so hated by the Russian intelligentsia, that is, not falsehood, decoration, a fig leaf, but the language of a doctor and a judge. “Just as dirty clothes cannot be washed clean with dirty water, so with descriptions of vice, as unclean as itself, it is impossible to cleanse people of vice” 873. According to the testimony of his contemporaries, the saint in life was distinguished by some kind of simplicity and inimitable elegance in his manners, that elegance that forced foreigners who were in Moscow for the coronation to attribute to him the highest aristocratic origin 874. This spiritual aristocracy protected Filaret from the power of the street and its “sincerity.” “There is no time to read everything that is now very generously written by people who, unfortunately, have learned to read and write” 875. “If in just one year you take all the bad things from secular magazines and combine them,” he wrote to Archimandrite Anthony, “then there will be such a stench against which it is difficult to find enough palm to drown it out” 876. Whatever Filaret spoke about, whatever he touched, everything came out of his hands transformed and pure. The pious “sixties man,” who wrote the history of Russian preaching 877, was dissatisfied with the “irrelevance” of Filaret’s sermons: “No matter how many reasons were presented to Philaret, during the fifty years of service of his church, to preach about vital issues, he always remained true to his conviction, choosing abstract topics for sermons. In the collection of words of Metropolitan Philaret we find three words on the election of judges; and what does the preacher talk about in them? “about the denial of Moses”, “about the non-laying on of hands”, “about the fear of God”” 878. But how can one not understand that a pastor is not a rally speaker, that civil gossip cannot be introduced into a sermon? Filaret protected the purity of the language of church sermons from the “invasion of Babylon” - from the confusion of high and low words, from the all-destructive effect of newspaper language. In Filaret we will not find barbarisms and provincialisms where he speaks for himself and about his own. Some exceptions, such as “instructions” 879, “furnish” 880, “model” 881 do not count. Even in the cholera sermons of 1830, it is not about cholera, but about a “destructive disease,” and the only mention of the word “cholera” is in the biblical quote: satiety will bring you even closer to cholera (Sir.37:33) 882. “The shelter,” wrote Filaret, criticizing Muravyov’s “Roman Letters,” “is a barbaric shelter. Zhukovsky pulled this word out of the mud and inserted it into poetry at the liberty of the poets. Let there already be orphanages. And call the castle St. Angel is the shelter of the Pope - for this the Pope would have difficulty holding back the Vatican thunder, if only he knew Russian well, in the pure Moscow dialect” 883. It is impossible to turn a church word into a political speech reflecting the anger of the moment, and therefore Filaret will diligently avoid mentioning the name of Napoleon, although he will speak at length about him as “a giant who, on the ruins of the throne, turned into a place of execution, creating a new throne, wanted to establish and decorate it with the destruction of the ancients, and transform the sacred crowns of heritage into a heavy crown of violent domination” 884. He will resort to the same default in his speech when laying the Triumphal Gate: “A man, whose name I do not want to pronounce, passed here, with devastation kind to him, through the capital to the nearby house of Petrov; made himself a short-term monument worthy of himself, the fire of Petrov's house; he reached this far; and it was no longer possible for him to go further; he returned to hasten to his own destruction" 885. It is enough to introduce the omitted name of Napoleon into these texts, and the language of the church will turn into the language of journalism and politics 886. Filaret himself wrote: “It is difficult for the word of the church to enter the political sphere without leaving the spiritual field. But once you have entered this path, there will be some need to follow it, and it may even lead you where it is inconvenient to follow. During the war of 1806 or 1807, the Holy Synod, thinking to strongly support the government, called Napoleon the Antichrist: and then made peace with the Antichrist” 887. Filaret does not say “cadet corps”, but “military camp” 888, “domestic sanctuary of military ranks” 889, not “Code of Laws”, but “a new composition of Russian laws, so expected by justice and finally extracted from the heterogeneous, varied, sometimes unfriendly elements of legislation of different times” 890. One hundred and forty guns for him are “one hundred and forty fire-breathing lips” 891, tobacco is “the dust of poisonous grass” 892, and about Alexander II, who arrived by rail in Moscow, he will say that “on the wings of fire the Emperor was transported from his new to his ancient capital” 893. It is impossible to use the low word “toys” in a high style, and therefore Filaret will talk about “tools for children’s fun.” What is easier – conversation between parishioners during a service? But Philaret says: “The sinful noise of idle talk fights with the holy sounds of reading and singing” 894. Capital balls and folk festivals - there are words and forms for everything. “Children of a fat feast”, “musician thunder in the palaces of luxury”, “at midnight the midday light” 895, “the people around the sanctuary in a disorderly and noisy movement” 896, “evil tabernacles prepared for serving delicacy or drunkenness, for vain spectacles” 897 - all these are features of everyday life, but how far is this from genre literature and fictional realism! It would be extremely instructive and interesting to systematize the statements and editorial comments of the Moscow saint made regarding the works he reviewed. Sooner or later, an alphabetical index of all the scattered and lost remarks about this or that word and expression must be compiled, or even better, a dictionary containing all these remarks of the saint in the alphabetical order of the words analyzed. “The word “some,” wrote Filaret to F. A. Golubinsky regarding the translation of St. Basil the Great - expresses not only uncertainty, but also disdain. For example: in the child of wine one finds some kind of bliss. When they speak with respect, this word will not be said; for example: a martyr finds a certain bliss in suffering” 898. Instead of “it was necessary,” Filaret puts “it was necessary,” because “necessary is an ugly word, torn off by lazy pronunciation” 899. Regarding the legend of Fr. Parthenius about the life of Daniel Filaret wrote to Archimandrite Anthony: “You can send it to the censor, and, moreover, ask the censor to clean up some words and phrases, for example, put potatoes instead of potatoes” 900. The saint's organic aversion to any sloppiness of style is especially clearly manifested here. He takes care of euphony by correcting the words “begging him spoke” to “begged him and spoke”, since it is better to avoid the sounds of gogovo 901. “Having tied” he replaces “having tied,” because “the end of the louse should be avoided where possible” 902. Sometimes, with one small stroke, Filaret changes the styleless period: “The shovel is in his hand,” Filaret suggests: “The shovel is in his hand.” “A preposition is not needed and without it the tone of speech is higher” 903. Letters to Muravyov are especially replete with this kind of comments. Filaret notices the subtlest nuances of related words and corrects unnatural phrases. “Is the altar luxurious or magnificent?” he writes about the Roman Letters. “Piety gives the altar its due splendor; luxury, like a vice, can, it seems, remain in homes” 904. “The natural manifestation of inner greatness is majestic, and majestic is the action of an exquisite disposition to show oneself majestic” 905. “Brilliant archimandrite - it seems to me that these words are surprising how they happened to stand next to each other” 906. If we begin to look at Filaret’s language, so to speak, with a magnifying glass, Slavicisms will catch our eye. And yet, in these Slavicisms there is only height, not archaisms. This is pure Russian, crystal classical, whereas, for example, Merzlyakov’s ode was archaic when it appeared. Filaret's Slavicisms do not give the impression of pomposity, because they are the only adequate means of expressing the subjects he speaks about. Filaret felt that Slavicisms were necessary in a certain system of thought, in the atmosphere of a certain style, and therefore rebelled against the “Babylonian confusion” of the language of spirit and the language of everyday life. The translation of the New Testament read: “Be as clever as serpents and simple as doves.” “Wise as serpents,” writes Filaret, “they are used to this. Smart - wildly. Snakes are a dirty word" 907 . The translation read: “Son!” (Luke 2:48). Filaret leaves “Child!”, explaining: ““Son!” - cold and rude. Child! – expresses maternal love. Just as the word: zheno is inevitable, although it is Slavic, so, it seems, the word: child is inevitable here” 908. He replaces the words “here are the hands” with “behold the hand,” for “such an expression is more appropriate from the lips of one filled with the Holy Spirit” 909. Filaret invents or uses rare archaic words: celestial, friend-to-friend 910, ancient-imitative 911, detached 912, dreamy 913. He uses such words as vigilance 914, all-possibility 915, diversified 916. And yet, Filaret’s sermons sound like pure Russian. “Behold,” “now,” “feelings,” “people” do not sound archaic to him. The saint's own speech blends indistinguishably with the texts of the Bible. This is the secret of Filaret’s style: to use Church Slavonic as a complement, not as a parallel to the Russian language. Let’s try to “translate” any passage from Filaret into “Russian” and we will see that this is impossible, because this is the only way to talk about those subjects that Filaret spoke about, as he spoke. Filaret was sometimes not afraid of proverbs, sayings, “winged words,” but he always changed them in his own way, deformed them, and transferred them to a new context. “It often seems to us that, according to the proverb, it is good where we are not: but this very proverb laughs at this dream” 917. “Every insignificant deed is proclaimed, like the cocoon of your newborn egg. But the proclamation of the kokoshi is more fundamental: she proclaims an egg that has truly been born and remains: while the vain proclaim what does not exist” 918. He was not afraid even of the play of consonances: “announces and deafens” 919, “come and pass” 920, “strange and terrible” 921. But this game did not stoop to a pun, that is, a game for the sake of a game. Filaret protected the language from profanation - the invasion of alien words, that is, the false enrichment of the language - and in return opened up new possibilities within the bounds of the inexhaustible old. His preaching is the novelty of archaism, the restoration of archaic rights, the assertion of the right to life for what seemed to have its new, more “fashionable” and “modern” equivalent. At a time when journalism mocks “this” and “that”, Filaret confidently writes “this” and “that”; the word “this” does not mean “this” at all and cannot be replaced by the word “this”. In the days when the apostle’s commandment was forgotten - “let no word come out of your mouth that is rotten” 922 - Philaret’s words acquired a particularly weighty meaning. May the reader forgive the long quotation - there is not a superfluous word in it and “cuts” are impossible. “The Word healed the sick, raised the dead, brought down fire from heaven, stopped the sun and the moon, and, most importantly, having become an instrument of the Incarnate Word of God, it transformed and is transforming people corrupted by sin into a new creation, pure and holy. This is how the human word acts when, firmly enclosed in the crucible of reverent silence, and kindled by secret, inner prayer, it receives its characteristic purity and power, or better said, it becomes a participant in the power of the Word of God and the Holy Spirit. And whether we turn this powerful, protective, sacred weapon to unclean, destructive, sacrilegious actions - to slander, slander, blasphemy; or with frivolity do we crush it into light dust and scatter it to the wind in vain idle talk?” 923 When newspaper and magazine idle talk became more and more self-confident and literature became a form of trade, condemning words sounded lonely: “Idle words, they say, are not harmful, and idle thoughts even less so: yes, small insects are for the most part not poisonous and not deadly; However, would you like to live in the air filled with them, where they constantly crowd into your eyes, buzz into your ears, disturb your sense of touch, and inflict hundreds of truly non-fatal wounds? 924. “Under no circumstances waste words recklessly, verbal creature of the Creative Word!” 925 Filaret's language is aristocratic and abstract. He deliberately did not notice dust and dirt on things, all these “trifles” and “details” dear to the heart of naturalism. Filaret used antonomasia, periphrases, and allegories in order to avoid words that violated the height and consistency of style. Precision and richness of language with an abundance of language prohibitions - this is the language of Filaret. During the Babylonian pandemonium, words lost their solid outlines and became confused in lips and thoughts. Filaret protected the word as a shrine, as a force that brings a world of order and meaning into a world of chaos; in the word there was for him the same expression of the beginning of forms and facets as in church power. Philaret’s worldview is logocracy, or panlogism, in the sense that every being is a word, an imitation of the Logos. “The Word placed man on the ladder of creation above all earthly things, and above the moon and the sun; the word united people into societies, created cities and kingdoms; knowledge, wisdom, law live and move in the word; virtue is formed, encouraged and spread by the word; the word in prayer ascends to God..." 926. “The creative word is like an adamantine bridge on which creatures are placed and stand, under the abyss of God’s infinity, above the abyss of their own insignificance” 927. Everything in the world is a word and a shadow of a word. “Listen, attentive soul; don’t you also hear the voice of the Lord God walking, not only in heaven at noon, but throughout the entire universe, at noon and midnight, morning and evening” 928. Even soulless things are included in the world of words and meaning. The blood of Abel is writing, and the writing is “not only clear to read, but speaking,” for the voice of Abel’s blood cried out to God from the earth (Gen. 4:10) 929. The Lord's "silent garments" announced his resurrection 930. Palace – tablet or stone book 931. Everywhere things are words, not signs, only indications, namely words. Filaret’s images are confined to the visual-picturesque realm: their true element is the element of the sound symbol; in the sounding word the symbolic picture is completed. In his sermon on the Dormition of the Mother of God, Philaret gives a description of the icon of the holiday. But he is not content with this. “If it were possible to depict sounds with a brush and paints, then we would hear from the icon the apostolic funeral hymn” 932. In exchange for the rejected composition of the Sinai legislation of 933, Filaret offered the artist his own. It is significant that his painting required words. “Depict Mount Sinai as high, smoky and gloomy... At the top of the mountain, show a bright reflection of the presence and greatness of God; from this reflection, draw a large and bright beam down the mountain... and in the beam write in golden words: “I am the Lord your God.” Filaret's painting had to sound in order to receive its full expressiveness. Filaret knew the language of thunder 934, but closer to him was a voice that spoke barely audible and intelligible. The subtle voice of conscience 935, the quiet voice of longed-for and saving grace 936, the echo of angelic praise, drowned out by “the noise of the celebrants, vain conversations, singing, corrupting the purity of the spirit” 937 - these are the images familiar to Philaret. “The voice of grace is quiet, but the world is noisy” 938. The Symbolists listened to “how silence speaks.” However, long before this, Filaret spoke without any pretentiousness, inviting “... to listen to the silence of Mariino” 939. At the tomb of Empress Elisaveta Alekseevna, the saint spoke about echoes of glory. “But what is heard here more majestic than glory itself is silence” 940. Filaret knew the words of Isaac the Syrian that “silence is the sacrament of the future century” 941. “In silence everything is born and grows,” he wrote to Muravyov 942. “Deeds that are early proclaimed often end with the sound of words.” The most powerful (powerful) is the inaudible, or barely audible, spoken secretly, in a low voice. The quietest voice that sounds most firmly and authoritatively in Philaret’s sermons is the same as the saint himself. One village deacon who had lost his voice was complained of being barely audible. “If you remove me from a place because of a weak voice,” answered Filaret, “then I should be the first to be removed” 943. Filaret contrasted the noise, the sound flood of the world and its bustle with his words, secret, quiet, commanding. No affectation, not a shadow of pathos - the imperturbable calm of self-controlled speech. Everyone knows the simple manner of speaking that distinguished Filaret; everyone knows that he spoke in a firm, quiet voice 944. The characterization of the Orthodox preacher in Gogol’s “Selected Passages from Correspondence with Friends” was almost inspired by the appearance of Filaret. “Let the missionary of Western Catholicism beat his chest, wave his arms and, with the eloquence of sobs and words, release soon-drying tears. The preacher of Eastern Catholicism must speak as before the people, so that from just one humble look, extinguished eyes and a quiet, stunning voice emanating from a soul in which all the desires of the world have died, everything would move even before he explained the matter itself, and with one voice would speak to him: “Do not utter words: we hear the holy truth of your Church even without them!” Philaret’s words are words addressed to everyone and no one. To whom were his stern monastic sermons delivered? Not in front of monks, or, in any case, not only in front of monks and not only for monks. Hence this feeling of height and distance. Filaret’s words are addressed to people of mature culture and, in their simplicity, do not strive for accessibility. At the same time, however, they are not confined to any narrow class circle, like the sermons of the French in the 17th–18th centuries. 945 or we have sermons of Elisabeth’s revolutions. They are for everyone and no one. Filaret addressed the person in general, looked above, past the listener. Hence his addresses without individualizing “you”: “you will say”, “you will object”, etc. Philaret’s “You” is always abstract, his “we” is conditional. In one of his sermons there is a large paragraph consisting entirely of appeals: “you think,” “you dispose,” “you value.” And it’s amazing that this paragraph, addressed to a certain you, ends with the words: “But let’s return the word, and bring us closer to ourselves, and to real incidents, and to the real case” 946. Filaret was addressing an invisible, distant listener who was not among those present. And therefore Filaret did not tolerate simplification, adaptation to a low spiritual level. “Simplicity must not be without wisdom,” he wrote to Archimandrite Anthony. “What kind of nationality is this in church preaching?” – he wrote to Gorsky. “The Church teaches all languages ​​with one teaching, applying the teaching to the mental and moral state of a person, and not to a caftan, sheepskin coat and blouse” 947. But he did not tolerate adaptation to a tailcoat, military uniform or jacket. For everyone, Filaret had one language, equally alien and close. Here again the antinomy was revealed, hidden in the deepest depths of Filaret’s soul: power over everything and the denial of it all. Everything is a word, but in reality everything is in the darkness of wordlessness, and words are dust. And before the eternal Word, human words are powerless and insignificant* 948. A preacher armed with a word and only a word spoke out against chaos. The word gave clarity of form, brought sharpness and certainty to where twilight and darkness reigned. Mip was completely drowned in the dust of meaningless words of wordlessness. But above him, inside him, like oases of light, sacred words shone, classically completed, clearly bright. Philaret's words are hieratic words; sacred words rule the world. He never tired of repeating about the wonderful, secret power of the word. “Imagine a man who, by the power of prayer, closes and opens the sky to stop and bring down the rain; commands that a handful of flour and a little oil be sufficient to feed several people, for several months, and even, perhaps, for more than one year - and this is fulfilled; blows on a dead person, and he is resurrected; - brings down fire from heaven so that it burns the sacrifice and the altar immersed in water" 949. “A name is a being or property of a thing represented by a word; a name is in some way the power of a thing contained in a word: for, for example, the name of Jesus, as the Apostles themselves noted, even in the mouths of people who did not follow Jesus, lower than those who received the Holy Spirit, cast out demons” (Mark 9:38) 950. “God's name is the most sacred thing in the world. By him our saving sacraments are performed; it imprints the fidelity of our oaths and promises; We place it at the foundation of our undertakings. There was a time when it, emanating from the mouths of God’s servants, sovereignly shook nature and overthrew their enemies, visible and invisible” 951. These are hieratic, powerful and inaudible words. At the opposite pole are the words of the world, all perishable, all powerless. Filaret was cold to these words beyond the sacred line. Outside the shrine, he did not see gradations and shades. Everything that is not sacred is a huge black non-A. It is striking that most of the now destroyed churches were rebuilt or built under Filaret. Looking through his words on the consecration of churches, it is not difficult to see how large a number of these particular churches have disappeared from the face of the earth. These churches turned out to be artistically defenseless. Filaret did not demand artistry: the shrine is self-sufficient, and on this basis there was no difference between the aesthetic and the unaesthetic. These differences are all the same - non-A, all covered by the concept of “non-holy”. Filaretov's world, Babylon, “not-A” – black background, sightless and blind. And therefore, in essence, there can be no talk of the antithesis of the world and the shrine: one of the members of the antithesis is meonic - zero. Is it possible for a mind, “puffy” 952, “fussy like Martha” 953, “lunar twinkling” 954, “will-o’-the-wisp” 955 to compete with the sky? If for Plato antitheses were an expression of balance, a symmetrical divergence of two paths, then for Philaret one side of the scale immensely outweighs the other. And there can be no talk of balance: only a long black shadow creeps along, powerless and rejected. “Let us imagine an image of a body; with the help of ambient light, his shadow is drawn on the ground. What would this shadow be without body and light? This is the earthly man without the power and light of God” 956. Darkness is a background, not an integral part of the antithesis. “The darkness of Egypt is spreading and threatening the entire earth... Drops of oil burn out in the lamps of the vigilant slaves and with their flickering illuminate the universal midnight” 957. “The long night of fear and universal expectation is passing; and the morning light penetrates the darkness of the Old Testament sanctuary" 958. Or, finally: “This is one of the few days on which all the days of the earth rely, so as not to collapse into one endless hellish night” 959 ** 960. Above the world, huge and magnificent, a world of words arose. In this world they perform sacred acts, not live. Here are not people, but Man in his ideal essence, not human words, fluid and empty, but the Holy and All-Powerful Word. And despite his bitterness and mourning, contrary to his own pessimism and misanthropy, Filaret created chased, complete forms. “Man would cease to exist if God despised and neglected him. Consequently, the very existence of a person serves as a sign that God does not despise him. Who dares to despise what God does not despise? 961 – he argued against himself. And truly, the passage dedicated to immortality sounds like a dithyramb to the royal dignity of man: “The sun sets to rise again; stars die in the morning for the earthly viewer, and are resurrected in the evening; times end and begin; dying sounds are resurrected in echoes; rivers are buried in the sea and resurrected in springs; the whole world of earthly vegetation dies in the fall, and comes to life in the spring; a seed dies in the ground, grass or a tree is resurrected; the creeping worm dies, the winged butterfly is resurrected; The bird's life is buried in a soulless egg and rises again from it. If the creatures of the lower degrees are destroyed to be recreated, they die to new life; Will man, the crown of the earth and the mirror of the sky, fall into the grave only to crumble into dust, more hopeless than a worm, worse than a grain of mustard?” 962. “The crown of the earth and the mirror of the sky” is man, but what about people? Filaret spared no effort to humiliate them in every possible way and emphasize their powerlessness. Christ healed the lame and blind and set them free. Filaret tried again and again to portray the lameness and blindness of the world. And only at the cost of eternal unquestioning obedience and enslavement did he promise strength and sight. The Church demands absolute obedience; The Church is the hierarchs, the elders, and the spirit of Philaret is the spirit of the Old Testament, its theocracy, its deserts, its prophets, the spirit of Philaret is the spirit of Hagar, law and obedience 963. Disbelief in man is what distinguished Filaret. Man “in general” was powerful. But Filaret hardly perceived those around him as “mirrors of the sky”; He could not trust anyone or trust anyone. And everything he rejected went away in order to continue to live in his own way, poorly, meaninglessly, wretchedly, but still live, denying his denial. When Filaret was buried, the Society of Lovers of Russian Literature canceled its meeting and the train schedule on the Yaroslavl Railway was changed. And yet, one could read the following advertisement in 964 newspapers: On Sunday, November 26th, 36th Big Splendid Performance Starts at 7 1/2 pm. The life he denied continued to flow as usual. People are used to seeing Filaret as an ideologist and apologist for Russian statehood. He was reproached for linking the fate of the Russian church with the fate of the Russian monarchy. But in reality, Filaret was less connected than anyone else with the “environment” and the “Babylon” he hated. There was no chiliasm in him, no belief in progress and heaven on earth. His main conviction was that everything on earth is always and inevitably bad, that historical life is not leading to a decrease, but to an increase in suffering, and that the further it goes, the worse it will become. And along with this, there lived in him a firm consciousness that God and holiness do not need anything other than themselves. From here it absolutely necessarily followed that a Christian is given the opportunity to resolve all issues of Christian life completely independently of his environment, and that the progressive “worse” of world history does not in any way affect Christianity. The “new” religious consciousness and “search for God” required all kinds of supports for Christianity. Filaret firmly stated that Christianity needs nothing other than Christianity. He drew boundaries and taught fear where for others everything merged into the pink fog of false universalism. The question involuntarily arose again: how are any other words possible other than the Words of God? There was only one thing left: to lead the listeners to the secret words of the desert and Divine Scripture. And indeed, all the preaching activities of Metropolitan Philaret can be considered as a word about the Word. If the sermons of St. Demetrius - the disclosure of a visual symbol, Plato's sermons - reasoning according to the laws of discursive reason and the effects constructed according to the laws of reason, Innocent's sermons (as we will see later) - variations or improvisations on one theme, then Philaret's sermons are closest to homily. Here is a consistent interpretation of the sacred text that forms the basis of the sermon. “In every line of God’s word there is light hidden, in every sound wisdom” 965. These sermons are truly examples of hermeneutic subtlety. As an example, one could cite the interpretation of John 20:29 966 and many others. etc. There is no doubt that when composing his sermons, Filaret used the so-called. concordances. An in-depth interpretation of the texts required their comparison and convergence. Thus, in the sermon on the text “Be filled with the Spirit” (Eph. 5:18), 967 of the 25 texts cited, 16 contain references to the Spirit, and among the remaining 9, three talk about the Spirit in neighboring verses. In other words, 19 of the 25 texts could have been taken from the “symphony”. A sermon grew from the text and its interpretation, and a single word served as a transition from one part of the sermon to another (“symphonism”) 968. Philaret’s sermons are not apologetics, for the shrine does not need any supports or fences, not even commentary on texts, but rather interpretation, germiny: words serve the Divine Word. And against this dark background, Filaret drew dazzling patterns of ideas. The only reconciliation with the world was symbolic reconciliation. Just as letters are not similar to the objects they denote, so are things and people. The powerless and blind became a tool of allegory, of other-signification - it began to point to something completely and completely different, τὸ ἄλλο. Filaret led away from the visible to the invisible, supramundane, uncontainable by the world. The light of the invisible world flickered dimly through the writing of visible things 969. The visible became a viewing glass for contemplating the invisible 970. Through the visible the gaze penetrated into the depths of the invisible 971 and, as if a ladder ascended from the visible to the invisible. Creatures are “more perfect than each other, because the action of the invisible is more revealed in them.” “Start from earth and stone, in which the invisible is completely buried, ascend the ladder of visible creatures to man, in whom the invisible can already dominate: is it not natural to assume above this level creatures in which the visible is completely absorbed - beings that are purely invisible, spiritual?” 972 The reverse side, the invisible side of things, was revealed, as it were, and a mysterious migration into the invisible took place. Where for the sensory eye there was only stone, wood, metals, paints, products of earthly nature, the work of human hands, there the house of God and the gates of heaven were opened to the spiritual eye 973. The sensual view was invisibly imbued with spiritual and divine power 974. The sensual was made an integral part of the sacred rites 975. “There is nothing meaningless in the Church. In all its manifestations lives a hidden power of grace; in every word the spirit is spoken" 976. Heaven came to earth. Mip became a word about the invisible and a container for the invisible. “Looking at the holy altar, think - and this is a completely true thought - that heaven is hidden in it, that in it Angels will serve the priestly people, that in it our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, at certain times, appears as His Divine Body, and is incessantly present in His spirit” 977. “Here He is, among us, in the word of the Gospel, in the cloud of sacraments, in the spirit and flame of prayers of one accord” 978. Huge visions arose, ethereal and at the same time tactile and visual: shadows that had plastic clarity. “The mysterious image of the Jerusalem Temple hovering over its ruins” 979, “the shadow of the former church” 980 - this is the illusory quality of the invisible and the certainty of the visible together. A particularly striking example of the elusive ethereality that penetrates the visible is the image of the omnipresent Cross. The cross turns out to be a geometric diagram of the cosmos, and following the apologists, Filaret looks for the image of the cross in a floating man and in a flying bird. The cross is here, in re, although you need attention and sharpness of vision to see it. “See your image in a man immersed in the waters and resisting drowning: he continually renews the image of the cross in his members, and thus overcomes hostile waves. Look at the bird when it wants to ascend from the ground: it extends into the cross and flies away. Seek in the cross a means to emerge from the world and ascend to God” 981. The world's space itself turns out to bear the seal of the holy cross. “Just as in this sensual world, wherever we turn our gaze, to the East or West, to the South or North, vision everywhere falls into the immeasurability of the sky: so in the spiritual realm of mysteries, along all dimensions of the Cross of Christ, contemplation is lost in the infinity of God’s love” 982. The cross becomes refined, spiritualized and, while maintaining visible outlines, rises to the heights of abstractions. The love of the Son of God for God the Father and His love for humanity intersect each other and one will adhere to the other; the cross is made up of the enmity of the Jews and the riot of the pagans 983. “The Divine unites with humanity, the eternal with the temporal, the all-perfect with the limited, the uncreated with its creation, the self-existent with the insignificant: what an immense and incomprehensible cross is already made up of this!” 984 For those who love “relevances” and hints, we emphasize that this whole topic of the sacrament of the cross, mysterii crucis, can be considered against a certain polemical, very pragmatic background: after all, we are dealing with evidence of the metaphysical nature of the four-pointed cross, with the ontology of the Latin “kryzh”, unacceptable by schismatics! And at the same time - the mountainous, rarefied air of abstractions and abstract schemes, the height at which such allusions become shallow. Filaret sometimes raised his allegories to such abstractions that they turned into applied geometry. In early sermons we encounter the following geometric hieroglyphisms: “Mip is a rotary circle; our soul is the image of the trinitarian divine unity. A circle placed in a triangle cannot occupy the entire space, so the whole world will not fill the human soul.” 985 Philaret's sermons (especially his early ones) sometimes turned into metaphysical-allegorical treatises. Such is, for example, the sermon on the “opening of the mind” 986, where the analogy of sight and knowledge is developed in great detail, or the word for the consecration of the church 987, dedicated to the presence of the sun in things 988. And even in the dazzling paintings of sunset, the shine of the sun on the water surface, and the stream, the height of abstraction and allegories was maintained. Filaret’s paintings here are allegorical painting. This is not medieval emblem, a parallelism of the general categories of the physical and spiritual world. This is precisely a painting - an individual image, a piece of landscape, canvas, wall painting. Sunsets shine with individual shades, remaining allegories. It's never sunsets for sunsets. Medieval animals, birds, herbs, stones or aerial phenomena are general categories, general characters: snake, dove, rainbow, beryl in general. In Filaret’s paintings there is hic et nunc, expanded to a foreign sign. “The life of the Mother of Light, like a quiet dawn after the Divine Sun of Christ, shining for the Church, faded away before the eyes of the apostles” 989. “The light of good deeds often continues to shine even when the word has faded and after the death of the doer, it spreads a long and wide dawn” 990. At the tomb of Empress Elisaveta Alekseevna, Filaret recalled the death of Alexander: “The life that fed and supported her fading life with love suddenly faded away and left her in the country of arrival, just as the evening fading in the clouds leaves an exhausted wanderer in the dark desert” 991. Filaret often repeats the image of water reflecting the sun. “A pure soul, like pure water, receives into itself living images of the sun and sky” 992. A quiet wind shakes the clear surface of the water 993. Everywhere – the setting sun, shining water, not the sunset, shining water. In his speech over the tomb of Emperor Alexander, Filaret painted an image of the flow of times. There was no rush of all-consuming time here, like the romantics. Here is the death of a classic hero and the thoughtful harmony of the allegory. “Imagine a man who stands over a stream and sees his treasure being thrown into the depths. Touching the waters, it produces a sound and gives birth to circles, one more spacious than the other: but at the same moment it disappears into the depths, and only the trembling of the waters remains noticeable to the viewer.” “Like this,” Philaret continues, “whoever can contemplate, let him now stand above the stream of times, above the waters of nations, as the Prophetic language explains. See how precious life has appeared; she moved the nations with her strength; filled numerous circles with her activity, each more spacious than the other; made loud sounds of glory: but suddenly it plunged into eternity, and one trembling movement of a formidable accident spread across all known nations” 994. Filaret often deformed the usual image, introducing into it features of biblical allegorism. The moon, the luminary of romanticism, acquired the features of oriental allegory; romance was intertwined with didacticism. This is especially clear in the quote below, in which the romantic is highlighted in bold and is like a canvas embroidered with a biblical pattern: Like the moon from fog and clouds, the soul of the prophet was freed from the dark, sad and unclean memories of worldly vanity, vice and wickedness 995. The “iconography” of the Mother of God in Philaret’s sermons is striking in this regard. The Mother of God in them is not a mounted commander, surrounded by unearthly glory, like St. Dimitri. This is the greatest of wives, “raised to the highest rank” from the depths of humility. We open the section of the Mother of God sermons from Philaret. What do we see in the first one? The historical woman about whom Christ asks: Who is My mother? 996 The second sermon is about virginity 997 . Further - about the incarnation 998, about obedience 999, about devotion to God 1000, about silence 1001, about confusion 1002, about fasting 1003 - all general categories, all sermons in which the Most Pure Virgin is an example and example of humanity humbled before God. She is not the queen of heaven, not a warrior, or even a mother, but a maiden, humbly listening to the words of an angel. Of all the Mother of God icons, the one closest to Philaret is the icon of the Annunciation, without the Child 1004. Obedience, humility, submission, never threatening, heavenly, royal, and not maternal, family-feminine 1005. (Pages from the manuscript of V.P. Zubov “Russian Righteous People”) Archbishop Innocent (Borisov) Innocent Arkh. Kherson Pogodin wrote in a letter to Shevyrev about Archbishop Innocent: “He took an active part in everything and was involved in everything: anatomy and the art of war” 1006. Indeed, numismatics, strategy, agriculture, philosophy, and natural science - everything occupied him equally. Maksimovich recalled: “I will never forget his conversations with me in the evenings; and his long cell in the Brotherly Monastery, all littered with books and newspaper sheets; and the exit door from it into a small garden, separated from the world by a stone wall and lined, as Gogol put it, with poplars reaching to the sky” 1007. Another contemporary recalled the archbishop’s passion for books: “Everyone who was in the rooms of the deceased remembers how many books he had, and it seems they were read at once: in the study, and in the living room, and in the bedroom, and in the hall, there were books everywhere; books on tables, books on chairs, on windows and on shelves. He not only walked and sat with a book, but also fell asleep not only with a book, but also on books” 1008. Innocent himself once said about books: “Here it is, here in them is our peace” 1009. In the St. Michael's Monastery in Kyiv, Innocent once preached a sermon about the seven Archangels, the leaders and chiefs of the angelic ranks. Here about the fourth Archangel, Uriel, the Archangel of light and knowledge, we hear: “So this is your Archangel, people who have devoted themselves to the sciences! How gratifying it should be for you to know that your nightly vigils and your labors on the collection of knowledge are illuminated not just by the spontaneous flickering from the lamp, but also by the light from the flame of the Archangel... Is it surprising to come with sudden illumination from above when there is a special Archangel of light and knowledge?” 1010 These words contain personal experience of the learned silence of the study and nightly revelations. Nature and books equally attracted the thought of the saint. He saw the Archangel's flame in his studies of science. Innocent is an artist and a scientist at the same time. Natural philosophy and art shake hands with each other. Nature of St. Demetrius is medieval physiologists, bestiaries and lapidaries, Plato's nature is a bucolic landscape, Philaret's nature is the background of gloomy biblical paintings. Only in Innocent is nature revealed in all its unbearable complexity. “Botany occupied his attention more than others,” wrote one of his contemporaries. – He wanted to open his physics office back in Kharkov: he loved astronomy and talked about it with enthusiasm; in mineralogy, on his orders, I myself collected some pebbles and fossils for him along the banks of the Donets" 1011. “Once, in my presence,” writes another, “the bishop was discussing stones with the professor of mineralogy Borisyak with amazing knowledge of this part. But the Eminence especially loved gardening, and his curiosity and observation was the grafting of trees: here, according to him, he saw a symbol of our revival” 1012. The archbishop’s friendship with Maksimovich is also significant. The latter was partly right when he wrote: “Innocent was a great lover of nature and spring; and in me, it seems, he fell in love with the former natural scientist and author of “Reflections on Nature” 1013. The same Maksimovich, recalling his stay in the Crimea with Innocent, captured one of the Crimean evenings in 1836: “The sun was leaning towards the west when we began to climb a zigzag road to another steep mountain strip overgrown with Tauride pine. With its light, balsamic steam, a cool breeze from the sea merged and moved between the trees with a quiet, mysterious rustle... When we stopped there to rest, Innocent said with tenderness: “Lord, I will never forget this breath!” 1014 No less eloquent is the description of a spring evening in Pargolovka near Kiev, preserved in the memoirs of another contemporary. “It was getting dark. The Reverend suddenly asked me: “Do you like to watch the fire burn?” - "I love". - “I love it myself. Order to bring wood and make a fire here, near the water (this is a small lake right in front of the house) and as much as possible. We will watch how it all burns and listen to the nightingales sing”" 1015. Completely in parallel to this story about the lake at night, in the first word about spring we read: “And here, without the sun, in the darkness of the night, the water swirls, as if someone is hitting its surface and making a sound that echoes the surroundings. Who is this? Heavy sturgeon or playful perch? 1016 Spring was always the most exciting period of creative growth for Innocent. It was in the spring that Innocent conceived his two most remarkable works: Holy Week and Bright Week 1017. Spring was a living symbol, revealing itself in heartfelt feeling. And it is not surprising that in one of the Easter sermons we encounter perhaps the only look in homiletics through the windows of the church at nature outside the windows of the church. “Looking at spring from the windows of the church, you involuntarily see in it a certain sign with which the earth annually greets the Conqueror of hell and death” 1018. The spring landscape appears behind the words of the same sermon: “Look at the face of nature: spring is for the whole earth, everything is blooming and beautiful, but the dried trees are even now bare and ugly, and spoil the beauty of nature with their appearance” 1019. Innocent's words about the spring of 1020 are symbolic. And the same symbolism is present in the anonymous passage “Spring” in the Sunday Reading magazine. The fragrant spring air, life-giving dew, fragrant rain make the breath of that Spirit that once hovered at the top of the abyss palpable. “This Divine breath, with which the air you breathe is especially filled in the morning and evening hours of some spring days, can it not lift your thoughts to the One who His sun shines on the evil and the good and rains on the righteous and the unjust 1021 and who sends His Spirit to renew the face of the earth?” 1022 Innokenty's words about winter were published by Pogodin in his “Muscovite” 1023. The Schellingian Maksimovich would fully subscribe to these words, in which natural philosophy and poetry are fused, fused together, and nature is revealed as an artistic work of the Divine spirit. After describing snowy plains and snow-covered ravines, after describing frost, false suns, northern lights and frosty patterns on glass, Innocent moves on to the form of snowflakes, the main and essential form of which is always the same: “the appearance of a star, the basis of which is a line placed in the middle of another, - or a cross! “Is it possible after this to deny the existence of a certain all-artistic right hand, from which, during blizzards and storms, this wondrous multi-cross of stars every time rains down on us from the clouds?” “Each snowflake looks not only regular and graceful, but, one might say, sacred” 1024. Similar to the words about spring and winter, Innocent conceived the words about summer and autumn. But they are either shorter or more fragmented than the first ones. The article “Autumn” 1025 is more concise and schematic than the spring words, and even in it the thought again returns to the beloved spring. The second article 1026, although more extensive and fully consistent in plan with the second word about spring and winter, it is remarkable that Innocent did not find in it a single warm word for autumn, similar to those that Pushkin found. A sad time, a charm of the eyes. I am pleased with your farewell beauty! Innocent spoke only of the gloomy severity of the air, the sad and gloomy appearance of the clouds. The words about the seasons could not help but be written by Innocent. And when in the akathist to the Intercession we hear: “Rejoice, sanctification of all earthly and heavenly elements, Rejoice, blessing of all seasons” 1027, we know that these are not only the words of the Church, these are Innocent. The nature of Innocent is connected with the cult, lives by the cult. In the spring, at Easter, Innocent said: “Christ could have died and risen at another time of the year; Meanwhile, he rose again precisely when all of nature can greet Him with its co-resurrection” 1028. “This day,” he said on the feast of the Annunciation, “is a day of joy not only for people, but for all creation. So, when you hear from the lips of a commoner that the sun is playing now, do not rush to let him know with your smile that he is mistaken. No, in his simple language he expresses the same thing that the most sublime Christian wisdom tells us about this subject” 1029. And on Trinity Day, while standing with flowers at the liturgy, the botanist Innocent does not forget to note in his sermon that the most visible nature celebrates, “allowed on this day to appear together with people before the Throne of Grace” 1030. Images of the vegetable world appeared in the most unexpected contexts, and when Innocent spoke of “the infants of Bethlehem, like the first spring flowers, suddenly reaped by the sword of Herod,” one should remember how this image sounds specifically in Innocent 1031. He spoke of the Old Testament as a winter greenhouse, which becomes unnecessary with the onset of the New Testament spring 1032. He willingly used images borrowed from the natural world to explain dogmas 1033. Summer sun - sea - relics of saints 1034, vault of heaven - sea - sun - Christian faith 1035 - these at first glance strange combinations are constantly found in Innocent. In his work we find a rare image of the Milky Way 1036. In his sermons we hear about electricity and magnetism, in his notes we read about the iron or sidereal properties of earthly wisdom 1037, about the origin of stones according to the Neptunian and Volcanic systems 1038, about the symbolism of numbers 1039 and other questions of natural philosophy. Innocent's ministry took place in Kyiv, Vologda, and Odessa. But in this love for natural philosophy, for the secret verbs of nature, he is a Kievite. Here he is close to such representatives of the Kyiv school as Fr. Feofan (Avsenev) or Ya. Amphitheaters. And it is no coincidence that “Sunday Reading” contained so many articles devoted to nature 1040. True, many of them are written in a calm, school-like, sometimes student-like language, bearing the features of seminary eloquence, its external smoothness, its specific archaisms. But nevertheless, there is only one feeding medium. As is known, the magnet and magnetic phenomena with their mystery strongly and vividly attracted the attention of adherents of Schelling’s philosophy. Innocent returns several times to likening spiritual freedom to a magnet 1041. He examines in his notes the question of the possibility for good and evil spirits to magnetize human souls 1042. The souls of people in hell at the Coming of the Redeemer, like “particles of a certain metal,” surrounded him and united with him 1043. In his lecture “On Revealed Religion” 1044, Innocent brings the ecstatic state closer to the magnetic one. “Let us hasten to make up for,” he says in sermon 1045, “the weakness of our will with tears of true repentance and the grace-filled sacraments of St. Churches, like sailors, immediately rush to re-magnetize their compass when they notice that it is losing its power to point north.” And in this interest in magnetism, Innocent is close to such Kyiv philosophers as Avsenev, who were inspired by Schelling and the Schellingians, in particular Schubert and his “History of the Soul.” Innocent even introduces the image of an electric machine into his sermon - a boldness that few have dared to take: “Remember what happens to a person in whose body, in order to heal it, they want to arouse elemental warmth through art. No matter how much you excite this warmth in him using a fire-exciting machine, it will not be aroused, and the patient’s body will remain without any change until it is disconnected from the earth. One touch to the earth destroys all the power and all the effect of fiery excitation" 1046. In Innocent’s sermons, learned metaphors like the following are common: “Just as in the middle of the globe, under the equinoctial line, or the so-called equator, the sun acts so strongly that in one day it grows more than in ours in a week: so the same can be said about the coming days of the Passion of Christ. This is our spiritual equator: all the rays of the spiritual sun are concentrated here.” Threads from natural philosophical concepts stretch to the main issues of dogmatics and liturgics. Speaking about the mystery of transubstantiation, Innocent draws an analogy with the transformation of food and drink into body and blood during the physiological processes of nutrition 1047. The need for fasting is reinforced by parallels from the world of physical nature. “For what does not fast on earth? - Animals? - And they fast, remaining at times without food, and some observing this as if it were some kind of special commandment at special times. Plants? “And they have a fast, and they do not always equally receive nutritious juices from the earth, eating very little food for whole months; the earth itself takes on the appearance of fasting at the appointed times, and sometimes, for example, during drought and winter, it undergoes a kind of fast especially imposed on it” 1048. Innocent loved to deepen the symbol, starting from the lowest degrees of the physical world and ending with the heights of the spiritual world. These ascents from stone and plants to soul and spirit are analogous to the ladder of Schellingian potencies, with the difference that development culminates not in art and genius, but in the Church. Nature is the shadow of the future; in the Church the revelation and solution of all lower potencies. “No matter how majestic the vault of heaven is, as soon as you look at it carefully, you immediately feel that (it is) one wrong side, and the face is there! » 1049 “Have we learned,” asked Innocent, “like the Magi, to read the will of God in the phenomena of visible nature, to hear the voice of heaven in so-called natural events?” Innocent spoke about “the church of nature, hitherto full of icons, as at the beginning of the universe” 1050, about the geometric mind, the reason for the correct placement of some stars 1051, about the power that “set the sun above our heads and scattered myriads of stars” 1052. All nature is full of the glory of God. Interpreting John’s vision of a living river emanating from the throne of the Lamb, Innocent points out that this river symbolically depicts “a stream of creative power, which, emanating from the depths of the omnipotence of God... and flowing around the universe, animates everything - from the first seraphim to the last insect” 1053. And yet, this is not pantheism, no matter how close Innocent’s worldview may seem to the pantheistic feeling. “They took the world,” said Innocent, “they took away its beginning and began in various ways to introduce it into the composition of the Divine nature, to include it in the very consciousness of God, as its necessary condition... The world is adored, but God descends into the ranks of creatures: instead of the unknown, but insufficient Divine life, a false ghost of a demigod appears... The Infinite begins, together with the world, to be subject to developments, gradualities, even improvements... Imperfections are included in the image the existence of the Divine, as an inevitable condition of life and the perfections of the Divine" 1054. It is clear to everyone that these words refer to the mysticism of Boehme, the philosophy of Schelling, and the very luminary of German idealism, Hegel. Instead of the cosmocracy of genius, there is the cosmocracy of the Mother of God. “The Queen of heaven and earth has everything in her power; speaks - and all the elements will rise up against the insensitive sinner; will strike - and no one will protect or heal! 1055 “All the elements are in Her power. She can say to both the influence of water and the flame of fire: “You will come to this and not pass, but your waves will be broken within you” (Job.38:2) 1056. Maksimovich reports 1057 that Baader was loved by Innocent more than other German thinkers. Indeed, echoes of Schelling-Baader’s teaching about the dark Urgrund are heard in Innocent’s speeches about midnight, in his love for the nocturnal mystical side of existence 1058. In the “Sunday Reading” of 1837/38, an excerpt from Innocent’s “Midnight” 1059 was placed. The mysticism of the night element is revealed here in all its bottomless depth. Innocent knows that “at midnight something happens that is no less important for all visible nature, for man, for the spiritual world itself” 1060. “People who often had the need to spend spring and summer nights in the open air, in forests and valleys,” he writes, “involuntarily noticed that the closer time moves to midnight, the more silent and quiet nature becomes... At midnight it is so quiet that no voice is heard from any living creature, no spirit is heard from many fragrant plants. Everything is in a certain inaction and weakened position, in a state of certain expectation and fear. What is this from? From the fact that at midnight there is a certain turning point (crisis) of the vital force in all of nature” 1061. “Whoever sat alone in his home after midnight, unentertained by anything, devoted to calm self-reflection, correctly noticed that from ten o’clock in the evening the soul begins to gather itself, and, as it were, curl up into itself, like an evening flower. When a dull ringing in a distant bell tower announced eleven o'clock, the soul noticeably begins to worry and feels sadness without knowing the reason. The closer to midnight, the more vivid and severe the anxiety becomes, the slightest rustle makes you look around, a sudden knock behind the wall can never alarm as much as at midnight” 1062. “It is precisely at that time when the living activity of the physical world stops or weakens that the intensified activity of the spiritual world begins” 1063. The Nativity of Christ was at night, perhaps the influx of the Holy Spirit onto the Blessed Virgin was at midnight, when she was completely devoted to prayer; the last supper, prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane, the betrayal of Judas, the resurrection - events that happened at night. “The Apostle Peter, according to legend, rose from his bed every midnight and mourned his renunciation” 1064. All these reflections on the metaphysics of the night lead the thought to that great crisis, that great midnight that will one day come for the Universe - the Last Judgment of Christ and His second coming. “But there will be another midnight, which is terrible to remember, but which nevertheless must be remembered.” “There will be a midnight reform of the universal life of the world, a midnight turning point for the entire universe, just as now a turning point is being made for the life of every person and some parts of this world” 1065. We remember how low Filaret ranked fantasy among the abilities of the human spirit. Innocent is drawn to the night side of existence, to the irrational - to magnetism, somnambulism, dreams, imagination. “Our soul is bound on all sides by imagination: image after image,” he wrote in his notes. “These images constitute the world of imagination. This mip means a lot to the soul. A blind man, for example, only lives in it. The dead are perhaps only limited by it” 1066. Innocent is a romantic. And he is a romantic not only in this regard, but also in the sense of having peculiarly romantic images. This is the image of the ruins, in which the elemental-chaotic power of the Universe, the formlessness and atectonic nature of the night face of existence are clearly revealed. One of the words spoken during the review of the diocese in the Svyatogorsk rural church was entirely dedicated to the symbol of the ruins. The mind, heart, conscience come to ruins, the spiritual church becomes a haunt of night birds and unclean reptiles, and “just as among the ruins, in a dense forest, people rejected by society, thieves and murderers often choose a refuge for themselves: so between the ruins of the spiritual church is the ever-present, beloved dwelling of the spirits of evil in the heavens” 1067. And yet, “these spiritual ruins often seem charming to others, like material ruins; because they are also covered with moss, entwined with pavilion, and dotted with flowers” ​​1068. “Isn’t our internal temple in such a state,” asks Innocent in another sermon, “that it is necessary to call upon experienced experts in spiritual antiquity and spiritual architecture to discover the very traces where it stood?” 1069 Let us note that Filaret does not have this archaeological picturesque ruins: his ruins are a symbol of destruction and desolation 1070. Romantics discovered and experienced the aesthetics of mountains and mountain landscapes. It is with Innocent that the mountains and mountain heights appear in all their virgin-paradise grandeur. When he talks about how he saw the Holy Mountains, clothed “in the beauty with which the creative right hand adorned them” 1071, or talks about the peaks of high mountains, “which, being covered with snow and ice, shine with rainbow rays at every rising and setting of the sun and delight the eye” 1072 - only he perceives the mountains from this aesthetically picturesque exciting side. St. Demetrius does not know the landscape, Plato is flat, the mountains of Philaret are the mountains of sacred geography - Sinai and Tabor, smoking or illuminated by divine light - such as we are accustomed to seeing them on wide canvases of historical paintings 1073. Innocent deeply felt both the symbolism and psychology of heights. He knows that “solitary silence, not disturbed by the presence of creatures, is conducive to conversation with the Creator,” and that this is precisely why, from ancient times, most of the epiphanies took place on the mountains 1074. He talks about mountain heights and the sky 1075 and knows that “we are all destined to such a height, before which everything high and great on earth is one ghost and shadow” 1076. In one of the sermons there is purely his, Innocent’s, description of climbing a mountain - from the abyss of sin: “Climb, if necessary, with your hands and feet, but climb; to be covered with falling earth and stones, but to rise; to feel stinging and pain in all members of the body, but to ascend; - break off from time to time and fall, but still rise” 1077. Let us also remember those mountain horizons that Innokenty draws. “A prisoner of sin is like a man descending from a high and steep mountain: at first there is a vast horizon, many views before his eyes, paths under his feet; but the further and lower, the narrower the horizon, the fewer views and traces; finally, only one path remains, leading or, even worse, leading into the abyss” 1078. Or, in conclusion, here is the mountainous Crimean landscape. “Imagine three of the highest mountains coming together and forming a formidable gorge in their midst; imagine them covered from base to top with various trees and greenery, with the crown of the head bare, like that of an elderly person; Imagine that from the main gorge between these mountains, also covered with forest and cut through by small cliffs, the stream of Alma rushes with a roar, and in its country, behind a small cliff, a huge spring flows from the side of the mountain, and soon connects with this stream: this spring is the source of St. Kozma and Damian" 1079. Contrasts of heaven and hell, heavenly beauty and black demonism were a commonplace of romanticism. Innocent more than once painted the image of a rejected, fallen soul with the mark of curse and despair on his forehead. “There is coldness and deadness around them; near them there is despondency and secret fear" 1080. “Doesn’t a terrible feeling awaken from time to time that humanity is disfigured in you, that you are somewhere lower than other people, in some abyss, that you belong to the ranks of the outcasts, that a certain spirit of malice lives in you, that you are driven by some hostile force of evil?” 1081 “There is in the fallen human mind some dark side, hostile to heaven” 1082. “The soul of every sinner, having separated from the body, will itself take the form of a rejected spirit, will seek darkness, strive into the abyss, hunger for horror and destruction” 1083. The sinner feels that he is “like a branch without a root, like a building without a foundation, that inside him there is emptiness, darkness, ulcers and death” 1084. “Continue to be a servant of the word, not human and transient in the air, but divine, eternal,” wrote Innokenty Maksimovich. “Strike all the crooked ghosts of the graceful, drive Byronism into the abyss from which it arose” 1085. In Innocent, demons are almost never called demons. These are “evil spirits” 1086, “spirits of malice” 1087, “rejected spirits” 1088, “angels of darkness” 1089. Romanticism showed a special interest in everything irrational, dissolving the bonds of the normal. The pathological and criminal were always the subject of his exclusive attention. “There are crazy people among people,” Innokenty wrote in his notes. “Are there not crazy people among demons? In a certain sense, they are all crazy, just as every sinner is crazy. But, besides this, are there any such spirits who, like crazy people, have lost their consciousness? How terrible madness in the spirit must be!” 1090 One of Innocent's favorite thoughts was the idea of ​​the relationship between sin and madness 1091. He painted the world of sin with romantic colors and in the features of the sinner he saw a portrait of a Byronic hero. I can’t help but remember Eve’s words. Kireevsky: “Reading Innocent Ave., you feel that he is not unaware of your mental worries” 1092. All “secular” modernity is felt as a vague background of Innocent’s sermons, receives new shades and colors, illuminated in a new way, revealing itself for the first time in its true meaning. Filaret did not know the fluid, ever-moving ἄπειρoν’a. With Innocent, everything is full of some kind of unaccountable anxiety and mysterious anxiety. It is rare to see the image of a volcano in homiletical literature. In Innocent it occurs three times. “Heaviness of the soul is sin. Whoever... does not lay down this burden will naturally remain down after death, or, even worse, drawn by his own internal gravity, he will rush down. Where? There, perhaps, where all the heaviness around us tends - to the center of the earth. What's there? “Ask the three hundred fire-breathing vents with which the earth’s surface is dotted on all sides” 1093. In another sermon there is a picture of a smoking mountain, a symbol of the explosions of evil lurking in the soul 1094. And finally, in the third - words about “the flame of innate malice that nests in us,” which “although hidden in the depths of the spirit, like underground fire, often produces terrible explosions and shocks,” and further in the same place - about the holes from which the fumes and smoke of the student of the abyss emerge 1095, about the stones of fire-breathing mountains and fiery lava 1096. Drawing a vice, Innocent gives the image of a person bitten by a tarantula. Furious rage from a tarantula bite, moans and screams of hell, everything is chaotic and suffering, emotionally inflated, certainly loud, almost screaming - all this is inherent only in the speech of Innocent. Characteristic of Filaret was a quiet and authoritative voice, more authoritative than the noise of the world. In Innocent there are screams and groans 1097. There is one striking passage in the sermon on Holy Saturday. After a loud outburst full of exclamations, the preacher pauses. “But what kind of cry is heard among mortal silence?” - he continues. “Aren’t the myrrh-bearing women coming to anoint the body of Jesus? But the Sabbath rest has not yet passed: and they must remain silent according to the commandment 1098. Who dares to disturb the peace of the Lion of Judah? “The same one who violated it most during his life: today the church sings, hell, groaning, cries out (Evening. V. Sub. Verse. himself. I.)” 1099. Innocent is characterized by images of a wounded and agitated psyche. “The tormented flesh” of the deceased Christ 1100, His farewell sermon, consisting “not so much of words as of tears and sighs” 1101, “death trembling and incoherent babbling” of the dying 1102, the terrible hour of the last languor of the body and spirit, the ultimate confusion of thoughts and feelings 1103, the groans of the inner man 1104, the heart, ready “to pour out in tears, to fly away in sighs” 1105 - Innocent’s sermons are full of this. Innocent's questions are most often not rhetorical unanswered questions or catechism questions, but inquisitive short questions that introduce movement and life into the speech, rushing forward. “What did He not give us as a pledge of His care for us? Earth? - a man was first appointed king of it. Heaven? - it has long been promised as an inheritance to the faithful children. Angels? - they serve our salvation" 1106. “First, the mystery of the crucifixion. Whose? Son? No, mother" 1107. Such are the piles of questions at the beginning of the sermon: “What does it mean? Why did the Son of God descend to earth? What did you bring with you? How can we meet Him, and what should we do?” 1108. Often Innocent's questions take on the character of meditative self-questioning and self-exploration. “What does this testimony produce in us? What is the fruit of his daily appearance among us? Are we strengthened by it in the hope of the future life? Are we consoled by this hope amid the sorrows and vicissitudes of this life? Are we protected from temptation and sin by the prayers of the saint? Are we growing in faith and grace, in love, humility and purity? 1109 Innocent's speech is not composed of precise, complete periods; it is complicated by introductory sentences, words in brackets and dashes. “What will happen to us if we do (as we are doing) the opposite?” 1110; “...and accepts the nature (who would have thought?) of a weak, mortal, sinful person” 1111; “and they imagined, perhaps (if fear allowed them to imagine something) an ancient formidable saying” 1112. A single word placed in a dash becomes prominent and expressive. “How many of us are there who are not able to celebrate the birth of their Savior with even one – thorough – memory!” 1113 “The Cherubim and Seraphim have an ocean of light and divine flame, but they do not have their own Cross!” 1114 Innocent loves the pause before the end of the period, marked in the printed text by a colon or dash: “And he could not lead the people of God into the promised land, he had to die outside it - in the desert!” 1115; “...and they will respond with silence!” 1116, “I immediately chose death!” 1117 Plato's smooth periods were built mostly from polysyllabic words with dactylic endings. Innocent has abruptly dramatic phrases of short and monosyllabic words: “let us live with death in mind, so that, while dying, we may experience life” 1118; “And isn’t small poison poison? Everything is trouble and fear" 1119; “we are all surrounded by sin and death, we face judgment and eternity” 1120; “What else remains for me but judgment, wrath and execution?” 1121 Let's remember Innocent's excited attacks, ex abrupto. “Did you hear the thunder? Have you seen lightning? - This lightning flashed here; this thunder thundered in this church" 1122. Or in the famous sermon on Great Friday: “Golgotha ​​and the Cross! Pack the coffin and the shroud...” 1123 An eyewitness has preserved for us a precious memory of how such attacks were pronounced. Upon ascending to the pulpit, having cast his quick eagle gaze at all those present and thinking a little, half a minute, approaching them another half-foot, the Bishop began his sermon 1124. Let us also recall the beginning of the funeral eulogy for Admiral Lazarev. “So, sailing around the whole world is over! - The sail that fought against all the winds and at all ends of the globe is lowered and curled forever! - The anchor, the dead anchor, has been thrown! “The ship is already in a harbor that has never left!” 1125 These abrupt exclamations, this dramatic doubling are sustained in pure, smooth trochees: Anchor, dead anchor dropped They create the impression of some kind of elevation and some kind of wide strokes. Innocent in general often used doublings 1126 and even rare pathetic triplings: “Glory, glory, glory to Thee” 1127. He emphasized by repeating an important word: “For all eternity - hear! - for all eternity" 1128. He triples the word anaphorically: “fallen soul, captive soul, perishing soul, awaken from your insensibility” 1129. The rare figure of menopause is no less dynamic: “The stream rushes down and grows, grows and widens, widens and becomes fierce, enraged, it refutes everything and carries it away with it” 1130. Innocent's disunion is emotional, creating the impression of agitated incompleteness: “The sea of ​​grace, so to speak, spilled into sources, depending on the quality of the hearts, fast, slow, noisy, quiet, more or less deep, but alive and bright in all hearts!” 1131 It is instructive to compare Innokenty’s lack of union with the Filaretovs. Asyndeta Innocentia - a handful of scattered pearls. Philaret’s asyndeta is a complete logical sequence of images and thoughts, for example, “darkness, sorrow, horror, labor, illness, death, poverty, humiliation, enmity of all nature” 1132. Here is a strict, well-thought-out chain of causes 1133. Or: “Where does disorder, ugliness, uncleanness, suffering, destruction, decay, in a word: death come from?” 1134 Or: “sin, nakedness, exile, curse, labors, sorrows, illnesses, death, incorruption” 1135. Non-union here is not a heap of synonyms, not a re-expression of the same content, not amplification; they contain an iron-clad temporal or logical sequence. Iv. Kireyevsky once compared Filaret and Innocent as exponents of two opposing aspirations of our church preaching. If Filaret moves from mind to heart, then Innocent moves from heart to mind 1136. In Innocent we can find expressive passages devoted to the meaning of feeling 1137. One of his notes is devoted to the text of the book of Proverbs: 1138 God laid the foundation of the earth with wisdom, but in His sense the deeps were opened. “According to the pure and holy metaphysics of the Wise One, in nature itself, something different (like the heavens with their strict mathematical order) occurred primarily under the influence of divine wisdom; another (like the abysses of waters with their constant movement and uncertainty of forms) under the special influence of the sense of the divine” 1139. The feeling receives the deepest metaphysical roots and finds an analogue in the physical cosmos and the Divinity Itself. In 1836, Filaret wrote to Innocent regarding his “Holy Week”: “It would not be superfluous if one were to go through other places with the cold gaze of reason, and cut off some words in which the freedom of imagination stretches far” 1140. Filaret demanded strict textual historical fidelity when transmitting the Old Testament and Gospel narratives. Innocent's imagination complements the pictures painted by the sacred books. Narrating the appearance of an angel to Joseph, he adds: “Perhaps the same Angel who preached the good news to Mary about her unfamily conception, that is, Gabriel; for such secrets are entrusted to not many" 1141. The hymn of praise of the Bethlehem angels “consisted, perhaps, not only of the words cited by the evangelist” 1142. It is interesting and instructive to compare two descriptions of Joseph’s helicopter city – the descriptions of Filaret and Innocent. Here they are: “... Let us imagine mentally, in the helicity of Joseph of Arimathea, a stone hill, and in it a carved small cave, or church, with a low entrance to it. At the entrance to it, on the right side, there is a stone bed of such length and width as is sufficient for the position of the body of the deceased, and on the left there is as much space as is needed to accommodate those bringing in the body. Let us imagine what happened in this grave cave on the evening and beyond on Saturday, which we rightly call Great Saturday: let us imagine not according to our arbitrary dreams, but according to the instructions of the word of truth. In the evening twilight, Joseph and Nicodemus bring in the body of Christ, taken from the cross and wrapped in shrouds with aromas, and lay it on a stone bed, against a stone wall...” 1143, etc. “...Look at the burial of the Lord in the city of Joseph: what could be more peaceful than that? Seeing how a small number of His friends are now paying their last respects to Him, one might think that this burial was preceded not by the horrors of Golgotha, but by a completely peaceful and serene death. If the evening peace of the helicopter city was now interrupted by anything, it was perhaps the quiet tears of the burying ones, which, along with the precious peace, poured onto the body of the beloved Teacher, and perhaps some haste in action, which was urgently required by the coming Sabbath peace. There was incomparably more movement and more noise recently during the burial of Lazarus; although he died on his bed, in the arms of his sisters and friends. Where and how did this unexpected peace appear at the tomb of Jesus?” 1144 Filaret is epically slow and precise; its description is characterized by a gradual movement: vertograd - hill - cave - entrance - bed, precise instructions: “on the right side”, “to the left”, precise definitions of size, everything gives the impression of a certain calm and solemnity. In Innocent, emotional moments predominate: peaceful, serene, horror, peace, quiet tears, haste. Philaret’s entire narrative is kept in praesens historicum; In Innocent, the present tense alternates with the past. From the beginning to the end of the description, Filaret talks about Christ; Innocent calls Him both Lord, and beloved Teacher, and Jesus. Filaret emphasizes the imaginability of the picture: “let’s imagine in our minds”; Innocent blurs the lines: “look”, “seeing” - as if the whole picture is really taking place before the eyes of the listeners. Filaret has “evening twilight”, a visual image; Innokenty has “evening peace”, the emotional tone of the environment. Filaret curbed his imagination with “indications of the word of truth.” Innocent's imagination rushed to broad pictures and to the realism of specific details omitted from the sacred text. An ox and a donkey with their breath warm the air in the Bethlehem cave, the air “too harsh for the newborn Child” 1145. Narrating the worship of the Magi, Innocent does not forget to note that their gifts have never been as needed as now, “for Joseph and Mary, even from what they had in Nazareth, could not take much, hoping to return soon: and now they had to flee to Egypt” 1146. He makes guesses about how the massacre of the Bethlehem infants took place 1147, he paints a picture of the appearance of an Angel to the shepherds, the shining of the Lord's glory in the darkness of midnight, in the mountain heights surrounding Bethlehem 1148, he describes the path from Bethlehem to Egypt through the mountains and wilds, through waterless places, among shifting sands, with constant danger from animals and robbers 1149. When Innocent wrote his “Weeks” and “The Last Days of the Savior’s Earthly Life,” before his eyes was an print of the Savior by Leonardo da Vinci, which was subsequently presented to Maksimovich 1150. This is, of course, no coincidence. Leonardo, who studied anatomy, natural philosopher and artist, was closer to the soul of Innocent than any other artist. He fills in the picture of the crucifixion with physiological details and describes how “the blood, stopped in its natural circulation, rushed to the heart, producing the most painful languor and thirst” 1151. Speaking about the appearance of the risen Christ to Magdalene, he does not forget either tears or embarrassment: “But his gaze, through tears, amid spiritual confusion, was not able to suddenly recognize, among the tree shadows, the beloved Teacher” 1152. Narrating about the descent of the Holy Spirit, he quotes the words of Scripture: “a noise came from heaven,” immediately clarifying: “from the upper parts of the air.” In contrast to Filaret, Innokenty’s small details are not textual details, but specific artistic details. Filaret's details serve the purposes of historical accuracy, while Innocent strives to give a specific artistic picture, even sometimes at the expense of accuracy, but with little things, certainly with little things and details. In his cycle of Christmas sermons, interpreting chapter 2 of Matthew, Innocent seems to forget about Luke’s narrative. The Magi came to Jerusalem around the time of Christ's birth, and their worship took place in the cave 1153. The appearance of the angel was “probably the first night after the Magi” 1154 and on the same night, without delay, the flight to Egypt took place. Innocent himself, apparently, was aware that in his narration he forgot about circumcision and the meeting, and was forced to begin his sermon on the day of Circumcision with a corresponding clause: “The flight into Egypt occurred not only after circumcision according to the law of the Divine Childhood, but probably also after His bringing, on the fourtieth day, to the church. But we did not want to interrupt the narrative of the Gospel and the connection that is between the worship of the Magi and the flight to Egypt" 1155. One involuntarily recalls the words of Philaret: “... I would like a calm mind to follow the work of a living and strong imagination” 1156. Innocent is carried away by the drama and artistry of the picture and forgets about concordances 1157. It should not be forgotten that many of Innocent's sermons were improvisations. He always spoke without a notebook and wrote them down after reading, first thinking through only the general plan of the sermon. And in this respect, he is the opposite of Philaret, for whom only two or three sermons were recorded after delivering 1158. No one else's sermon so often turns into variations on one theme, into repetition of the same theme in ever new contexts. Innocent's style is, so to speak, iterative: everything seems to unfold, unwind from one point, like a spiral or concentric circles on water. This is an expanding tangle of associations around one word or text. Innocent loved variations even on one word - a jumble of words of the same root, a play on consonances of similar words. “Since our transformation must take place not according to any other model, but according to the image of the Transfiguration of the Lord, how can we not see in the face of the transforming Lord the image of our own future transfiguration?” 1159 Innocent plays with the consonances “to come and pass” 1160, “to see and to see” 1161, “they do not hate and hate” 1162, “not only condemnation, but also judgment” 1163, “us to Christ and us to Christ” 1164, etc. Innocent contains numerous anaphors and antistrophes. In the homily for Epiphany, each period ends with the text: “This is my beloved Son!” "and each time the text sounds new 1165. In the Christmas sermon, “glorify” is repeated nine times in different contexts, individualized by various addresses, ending with the cry “Let all creation glorify and magnify Him” and again being transformed and transformed 1166. It is impossible not to mention here the repetition of Christ’s words “Be patient with Me!” " in a sermon on the second day of Easter. Throughout the sermon, they are repeated seven times with increasing insistence and in ever new contexts 1167. In general, Innocent's anaphors and antistrophes are often septenary 1168, sometimes turning into a kind of refrain 1169. Perhaps the influence of Massillon was partly reflected here, about which La Harpe wrote: “Massillon ne retoume pas sa pensée avec une recherche pénible, comme Sénèque; il la développe, comme Cicéron, sous toutes les faces, de manière à en multiplier des effets: c’est la lumière d’un diamant dont le mouvement multiplie les rayons” [“Massillon does not present his thought like Seneca, requiring effort to understand him, but develops it like Cicero from all sides so as to increase the impact of his thought just as the rotation of a diamond multiplies the rays it emits.”] 1170. As you know, when he was a student, Innocent studied Massillon 1171 with special love. “Of the newest preachers, our unforgettable Archpastor preferred Massillon to all,” testifies I. I. Davydov 1172. Innocent's sermons are improvisations, variations on a given theme. Their general plan is often given by rhetorical rules of disposition and their originality lies in the details of development. Anaphors are diversified by synonymous conjunctions: “they prayed because... they prayed because... they prayed because...” 1173 Sometimes they become more complex to the point of a circle. The following passage is essentially such a κύκλος’ο: “Prayer preceded the descent of the Holy Spirit; in prayer He descended, bringing prayer with Him. How holy and powerful is prayer after this!” 1174 The improvisational nature of sermons is also the reason for the small number of quotations from Scripture. The texts of Scripture in Innocent are much more noticeable in the general fabric of speech than in Philaret, whose language of Scripture is organically fused with his own. He knew how to approach the text with imperceptible transitions. Innocent's text sometimes sounds quotable. He was aware of this himself and therefore resorted to special techniques that were supposed to smooth out this difference. A contemporary says: “Sometimes the hierodeacon would present the Bible or Gospel before the saint, who, having himself found the text, would read it in the original, as he used to say, as a sign so that everyone would know that the word begins precisely with the word of God, which word is so holy that it would be a sin not to say one jot as it is.” 1175 This is how Innocent began his sermon. But even in the middle of the sermon he resorted to the same technique. According to the testimony of another contemporary, 1176 Innocent, in his sermon before the shroud on Good Friday, three times opened and read the Gospel 1177 taken from the shroud. Such reading provided a frame for the linguistic discrepancy between the text of Scripture and the text of the sermon: it motivated an abundance of quotations, which, given the improvisational manner of pronunciation, without a notebook, could not help but sound awkward 1178 . In other cases, Innocent had to emphasize his passion for quotations, so that the speech would not seem diverse. “Let us turn to the entire host of St. Old Testament wives. What do we see in all of them? All of them, according to the expression of the Apostle, were testified by faith” (Heb. 11:2) 1179. Here one cannot throw out “in the words of the Apostle,” while Philaret’s phrase often imperceptibly flows into the sacred text. In Innocent we constantly encounter “according to the Apostle,” “said in the Evangelist, etc. Innocent had to cite some texts in the Russian translation 1180 or explain the archaic expression: “suddenly, as the Evangelist notes, that is, suddenly and unexpectedly” 1181. We find the same word in Philaret: “suddenly, that is, how quickly he delivered the sermon” 1182. Despite the external similarity, there is a deep difference: Innokenty translates, Filaret interprets the word. When reading the printed editions of Innocent, one should also not forget that their original appearance was significantly changed by the “calm mind” of subsequent processing and censorship. In Innocent’s sermon on Holy Saturday, for example, it was stated: “Therefore, the Holy Church, as the mystery of God’s love, now boldly sings in honor of her Bridegroom: Thou hast awakened all that has fallen asleep from the ages” 1183. F. Golubinsky, during a censored viewing, drew Innokenty’s attention to the fact that these words were not present in the entire service of Holy Week, and suggested replacing them with the words: “Hell reigns, but does not reign eternally over the human race. You laid down in the tomb, opened the keys of death, and preached true deliverance to those sleeping there from time immemorial” 1184. The quotation has grown and, of course, in this form would be inappropriate in an improvised sermon. We do not have data on all such changes that Innocent himself could make when recording his sermons in writing. The difference in the sound of Slavic and Russian is also emphasized by the fact that Innokenty does not always stay at the height of Slavicisms. In the same sentence we find both “this” and “this” 1185. He speaks of a “fashionable chariot” 1186, not a carriage, but a chariot, but fashionable - a word that Filaret would not have uttered. He speaks of children who are already familiar with the language of “Gaul and Teuton,” although a few lines earlier he spoke of the Seine and Thames. Meanwhile, strictly maintaining the style, one would not have to talk about Sequan and Tamesis? 1187 Innocent had to speak in a high Slavic style about both Italian opera and Russian Maslenitsa: “to watch the spectacle of the desperate contortions of the voices, arms and legs of the performers” 1188, “people groaning from the heavy tribute recklessly brought to carnal knowledge” 1189. In sermons during the Crimean War, we read about “the enemy’s arrows kindled” (that is, artillery shells) 1190, about “those wounded on the battlefield” (that is, the wounded) 1191. It was necessary to invent the word “regional government” 1192 for the word “government general” or talk about “Napoleonic knights” 1193. But this was not always possible, and over the course of one paragraph Innocent calls Count Vorontsov either “field marshal” or “knight”, and here he speaks of “Caucasian military leaders.” Filaret never mentioned Napoleon's name and always spoke about him descriptively. Innocent was not afraid of foreign names, contrasting burning Moscow with “the drooping valley of Paris” 1194. However, he did not mention the name of Napoleon in this sermon, only speaking mutely about “the giant of battle, sitting in sadness in the middle of the ocean and languishing in despair on a barren rock” 1195. The prototype of Philaret’s Napoleon was Bossuet’s Cromwell: “Un homme s’est rencontré d’une profondeur d’esprit incroyable, hypocrite raffiné...” [“A man was faced with a thought of incredible depth and refined hypocrisy.”] 1196 This is a brilliant villain and despot, the personification of evil and rebellion, which is spoken of deliberately abstractly: “un homme”, “a person whose name I do not want to pronounce” 1197. Napoleon Innocent - from Byronism, is a romantic titan. In the above passage there is no name of Napoleon, but in other words of Innocent we hear about Napoleonic knights 1198, about Kinburn, Crimea (namely Crimea, and not archaic Tauris), Austerlitz 1199, Borgo, Helsingfors, Christianstadt 1200, about Bennigsen, Blucher and Bernadotte 1201. Innocent was not afraid of proper names. When he speaks of “stubborn Varna,” who “opens her gates and falls no other way than before Vorontsov’s military banner” 1202, then this reveals the most striking contrast to Filaret’s onomatophobia. The closer to historical modern times, the more abstract Filaret’s speech became. Innocent, on the contrary, was not afraid of modern names and titles, he felt the “smell and color” of life, using the expression of Apollo Grigoriev. “Innokenty’s sermons tremble every minute,” Pogodin wrote about Innocenty 1203. Indeed, no one has been able to use to such an extent the individual setting of the sermon, the conditions and place of its delivery 1204. In the Belavinskaya Stone Hermitage, located on the island of Lake Kubenskoye, on September 10, 1841, Innocent preached a sermon, all built on the symbols of rocks and waves. “A rock surrounded by a rustling lake”, “a storm and waves hitting the walls of the monastery” - all this is painted in the color of the area 1205. Innocent arrived at the Totemsky Feodosiev Spasomurinov monastery in the dead of midnight, and the next day this circumstance gave him the topic of his sermon. “At midnight, brothers, I reached your monastery; and yet I found you all watching and coming out to meet me with burning lamps. Oh, if only we could all meet in this way that great Bishop who has passed through the heavens, who will once come at midnight, and be worthy to enter with him into His bright chamber!” 1206 At a salt factory near Totma, Innocent delivered an entire sermon dedicated to the symbolic meaning of salt - “one of the purest elements on earth” 1207. In 1845, in October, in the rain, a religious procession with the miraculous icon of Our Lady of Ozeryansk took place in Kharkov. The next day, Innocent preached a sermon, choosing the text of the Song of Songs as his theme: “Water cannot quench much love, and rivers cannot drown it” 1208. “The Mother of God,” he said, “appeared before us not as before, surrounded not by the rays of the midday sun and the quiet breath of the wind, but by the almost midnight darkness of the clouds and the uncontrollable streams of autumn waters. But, thanks be to the Lord, our love did not fade away even in the midst of this flood of water, and the clouds that rained on us will not be witnesses of our falling away” 1209. When visiting Izyum, Innocent chose three vine branches, which are in the coat of arms of this city in 1210, as the subject of his sermon. Allegorical interpretations of coats of arms were very popular among southwestern preachers of the 16th–17th centuries. Ioannikiy Galatovsky in his “Key of Understanding” directly pointed to this method of inventing a “theme.” But the Innocent symbolism of the coat of arms is new wine in old wineskins. He revived the archaic and forgotten; he was constantly looking for new objects that usually remained outside the orbit of preaching. New or old, so forgotten that it seems new, constantly attracted him. The trees outside the window, the salt mines, the waves washing the walls of the monastery - everything that was right there, nearby, remaining unnoticed, was involved in the circle of his teachings. And the forgotten ancient was resurrected in a new guise. Innocent's worldly life is somehow recognized in its rights, recognized and justified, albeit as flawed and incomplete, but still, according to its own laws, a moving and breathing being. The secret of Filaret’s style is in its mercilessness, Innocent’s character is in love and condescension. “Anathema, even as an execution, is dissolved in Christian love” 1211. This is not the compromise that Plato sometimes made when he softened the rigorism of ascetic Christianity for the sake of everyday life and times. The one who was attracted by stones and herbs, who all his life was drawn to the secrets of natural philosophy, knew that the laws of spiritual heights were inapplicable to both stone and wood, that the laws of nature were the laws of a sleeping, shrouded spirit. Such was the worldly life in his eyes - elemental, vegetative, not knowing or realizing itself. Filaret's light was an angry and burning light, he did not tolerate the approach of the world. Innocent's light is white, radiant, like the magnificent northern lights. The words “rays” and “radiance” are characteristic of him. Its light is silver needles, halos, sparkles, sparks. “Rays of heavenly mercy” 1212, “the last rays of light from the face of the transfigured Lord” 1213, “rays of the Star of Bethlehem” 1214 - almost always just rays. Innocent's light is cold, like the light of stars, without burning. The scorching moments are shaded in the sacred fire. The tongues of fire in the upper room of Zion “scorched no one” 1215. Seraphim – burning, fiery; but Innocent speaks of an ocean of light and flame 1216, of inspiration by seraphim fire 1217 - the elements of water and air dominate over fire, the ocean and breath over burning. And even where blinding light appears, this light is not burning, scorching, fiery, but dazzling white, bright, without warmth. “It’s hard to look at the sun; it is even more difficult to look at the most holy and worldly Trinity: there vision is lost; the mind goes blind here! So they went blind: Arius, Macedonius, Sabellius, Nestorius! So even now those who dare to look directly with their own eyes at the bright face of the creative Being are going blind.” 1218 “Just as the light of day is unbearable for a diseased vision, so for a mind sick with sins the radiance of heaven will be unbearable” 1219. Let us remember Filaretovo: “which burns his eyes.” Sick vision, diseased eyes that cannot stand strong light and prefer the light of rotten wood to the sun 1220 - how unlike this is from Philaret, whose light burns and hurts, does not suppress with blinding streams, like Innocent, but forbids anyone to approach him. Innocent's light is centrifugal, communicated to creatures, although it does not warm them. Hence, from this centrifugality, the accentuation of the rays 1221. Innocent always felt a connection with the environment. Pogodin wrote that “nationality” is the first quality in sermons. “The department and experience changed me,” he wrote to him. “If you taught history on Kremlin Square, then not only would your language change, but perhaps many of your thoughts would change” 1222. Innocent's sermons are centrifugal, like his light; these are ever expanding circles, striving to capture ever new souls, to apply themselves to different minds and different states. Hieromonk Joasaph cites the words of Innocent in his memoirs: “Remember that when you go out into the environment of the church to preach, you go out, as it were, to a worldwide apostolic preaching” 1223. Maksimovich wrote to Innokenty: “In Taman, having sadly examined the recently destroyed... desolate Rumyantsev Palace, I stopped with my sister to look at a small church recently rebuilt from a chapel; on its threshold an old man on foot was resting; I spoke to him and heard from him a story about how he was at your service, heard your sermon... How we envied him” 1224. Filaret always addressed the abstract “listener in general,” his listener was any person—the “Kai” of formal logic. It is remarkable that he almost always omitted the pronouns “you” or “you”; “Do you see a work that needs to be started: before you bring it into the realm of events, bring it closer to God through prayer” 1225. Filaret often uses impersonal abstract forms: “they will say” 1226, “let them ask” 1227, “maybe they will ask” 1228, “you will ask” 1229. Even Filaret’s “we” is conditional and abstract, like an impersonal “all S”. The listener to whom Innocent so often turns turns out to be someone both universally familiar and intimately his own. “What did Jesus pray for in the Jordan? - it's a secret. It is enough to know that He prayed, without a doubt, for sinners; therefore, about you and me, listener” 1230. These are, as it were, syllogisms that bring the universal words of the Church to the inner church of the individual soul, warming them with the warmth of individual breath. “The day of our salvation is the main thing, we exclaim: therefore the salvation of both yours and mine, listener, therefore, you and I are saved, reconciled with God and conscience, cleansed, justified and sanctified; therefore, the crown of righteousness is kept for us, which God has prepared for all who love Him (2 Tim. 4:8)” 1231. Or in the sermon on the week of Vaiya, where the speech is about Christ crying at the sight of Jerusalem: “These are our tears, beloved listener; for they were shed by the Lord, without a doubt, not for Jerusalem alone, but also for you and me, living sinners!” 1232. Intimate personal lyrics are what is characteristic of Innocent. It colors everything common and universal with a personal, individual coloring. The preacher feels with his whole being the formation of individual life in contrast to the eternal rotation of the church year. “We don’t know, brothers, where your thoughts are inclined from this shroud,” he begins one of his words on Holy Saturday, “but ours are inclined towards our own tomb. And our life, we think, will pass just as Pentecost has passed now” 1233. Everything gives rise to this thinking about the future, to looking forward into an unclear future. “One more day will pass, and the sacrament of repentance will be accomplished,” we read in one of the Lenten sermons, “one more, and you will be a partaker of the Body and Blood of the Lord. And there, who knows? “Will the Church see you again, will you see her too?” 1234 And on New Year’s Day, when the passage of time becomes especially noticeable, Innocent says: “The angel of death, bending, perhaps, to the prayers of some righteous person, spared us; but for how long? Let us move our thoughts into the future, imagine that this new year has ended: again there will be a sacred meeting in this church, again a teaching will be delivered from this sacred place; but will we be alive then? It is known that death annually abducts a fortieth part of the inhabitants of this vast city... which means among us there are a considerable number of people who are entering the new year for the last time and, perhaps, are now hearing the word of repentance for the last time” 1235. The eternal in the ever-changing flow of time - this is the leitmotif of these passages. And perhaps most strikingly this contrast between the eternity of the church circle and the time of individual destiny is shown in the word for Good Friday, where, after reflecting on death and the past year, the words are heard about the suffering Jesus: “With Him there is no change! Look: the same plagues, the same crown of thorns, the same heart open to all sinners. Our sweetest Jesus is all one and the same!” 1236 Innocent's mortal memory is not the ugly mortal memory of Eastern asceticism. This is a picture, precisely a picture and a sensually concrete image of one’s own death. “Let’s move our thoughts to our last day, imagine how they will carry us to the cemetery and lower us into the ground,” said Innocent in the Vologda Cemetery Church, “how a turf hill will rise above us and a tombstone will lie, how the person we love will come and water our grave with a tear, and maybe no one will come, and only St. The Church, this common mother, will not forget us in her prayers" 1237. Innocent ended his speech before the tomb of Metropolitan Anthony with the same thought about his own death. “For there is no doubt that the trees from which our coffin will be built have been growing for a long time, and perhaps already under the hand of the cleaver” 1238. This listening to the quiet, inaudible steps of death, this thought about the already growing trees from which our coffin will be built, constitutes the vital nerve of Innocent's lyricism. “You have lived for more than half a century: you yourself feel that it is long past noon, evening is not far away, and night is in sight: tell me, what have you prepared for an underground overnight stay?” 1239 “Death is hidden in the very depths of becoming existence, and the composition of our current body is such that it itself contains the seed of uncontrollable destruction” 1240. In the word on the text of the stichera “and the ladder to heaven there is a coffin,” Innocent spoke about the coffin, which inconspicuously becomes a ladder throughout life. “A person lives without thinking about his coffin, but the coffin, on the contrary, always remembers it, every action turns into a step of the ladder - good to heaven, and evil to hell. Thus, when a person dies, he finds a ready-made coffin ladder, which he himself inconspicuously made during his life” 1241. The future heaven and hell are immanent in the soul. Behind the grave, “everyone already creates from himself either heaven, if he had the seeds of heaven on earth, or hell, if he gave place to the flame of hell while still in the body” 1242. The idea of ​​the immanence of the fire of Gehenna is expressed even more clearly in the words that “the bodily composition, like ashes, conceals the hellish fire of sin, smoldering in our soul, and prevents it from turning into an all-consuming flame” 1243. “Won’t a heart that beats only for the world and sin after death constitute hell itself?” 1244 In the aspect of natural philosophy and mystical medicine, we find the same thoughts about internal fire in conversations about death. Innocent says here that the internal composition of our body contains “not only the ability to ignite, but also an inexhaustible supply of fire,” recalling that “from each part of the body, through well-known artificial techniques, and sometimes without any art, many sparks can be extracted.” “What disease is not detected by fever?” And cases of spontaneous combustion, when “in a very short time, sometimes in a few minutes, nothing remains of a person except a few handfuls of ashes” - “what is this, if not a deposit of hellish fire?” – concludes Innokenty. “The present mortal body, ignited in this way, smolders and disappears: but the future body - immortal, ignited cannot disappear, will burn forever. And here is Gehenna, homemade, homemade and at the same time unquenchable!” 1245 Innocent's development is development in the literal sense; it is not for nothing that he writes in his notes that “the soul does not arrive in parts, applying one to another, but develops from some kind of whole center in which everything was curled” 1246. Rarely, as an exception, Innocent has an image of transcendent, externally striking death - in the traditional form of a skeleton with a scythe 1247. Everything is inside, everything is about pain, and nothing about wounding weapons, for who hurts if not man himself, with his spontaneously blind rebellion against the laws of nature and heaven? Just as elemental life itself conceals within itself the source of all destruction, just as the soul itself contains within itself its own heaven and hell, so every violation of the law already conceals within itself an inevitable punishment. It is this immanentism of Innocent that is the reason why, in his philosophy of sin, sin is preferably interpreted as an illness born from within, rather than as a wound inflicted by an external enemy. The image of illness and healing is one of the favorite images of Innocent 1248. In his sermons we constantly hear about sinful leprosy, about a cruel disease, about the bitterness of medicine, about the pain of a surgical operation, about “a sacramental operation that opens the eyes of the mind and heart” 1249, about the heavenly Physician, the Doctor of minds and hearts, and about “divine medicine, which consists in revelation” 1250. “The science of physical healing,” says Innocent, “not only in general terms, but also in particular features, converges with the science of spiritual healing” 1251. Even where we are talking about sinful wounds, internal, painful, “surgical” moments are emphasized - groans from sinful ulcers 1252, some dull wound, painful and disturbing 1253, or healing of wounds 1254. Not a wound inflicted for the first time, but a worried wound, a healing wound, painful conditions - that’s what’s in the foreground. “One glance at the image of the great ascetic of Jordan 1255 produces in an unhardened conscience a feeling similar to what occurs in a bodily wound from the touch of a sharp point” 1256. In this regard, it is important to remember that sin is readily and often interpreted by Innocent as a type of madness 1257, that is, again, as a disease. Deviation from the law avenges itself: sin is not a violation of the transcendental, heteronomous commandment, it is the loss by the creature of its own, God-imposed and its internal nature of the constituent law, the loss of the creature’s own, constitutive form. Sin and hell are the self-destruction of the created form; the doctrine of sin is part of fanology and spiritual posology. “Every creation has a law of its existence, inscribed for it by the wise and omnipotent Creator. Deviation from this law of life and perfection inevitably spoils and destroys everything that deviates,” testifies Innocent. “A precious stone, when the law of its existence is reflected exactly in it, is strong, bright, transparent and valuable; otherwise it is ugly, dull, brittle and of little value” 1258. It is no different in the world of plants and animals. The same idea is expressed even more clearly in the notes. Innocent speaks here about sin and the shadow of sin, emphasizing and emphasizing this term. This shadow of sin also exists in the material world, among irrational creations, where there is no freedom. It consists in the creature’s deviation from the exemplary form of its nature, a deviation that entails imperfection, ugliness, weakness, and frailty. And further - the same examples of crystal, plants, animals 1259. It is not death with a scythe in his hands, not demons, not bacteria and bacilli that destroy and destroy the existence of a creature. The creation itself is forever changing, falling apart, decomposing, or, conversely, strengthening, developing and growing. We remember Plato's Enlightenment anti-historicism. According to Innocent, our nature “does not represent a definite, harmonious whole, but some members are disconnected, some pitiful fragments and disordered remnants of the great past” 1260. “All the best in us seems to be a remnant of the past” 1261. Time is the deepest metaphysical core of things. “What is our life? This is a constantly developing scroll, filled with many writings, of which one part is always hidden... This is an ever-increasing fabric, the composition of which includes a countless number of heterogeneous threads, the surface of which is visible to everyone, and the base to no one... This is a collection of countless and heterogeneous phenomena, which, like animated shadows, move around our consciousness, amaze the senses, occupy the imagination, nourish the mind, delight or sadden the heart, and soon disappear, leaving a faint trace in memory" 1262. “The scroll of time constantly unfurls in front of everyone, the sheets rotate one after another; write whatever and however you want; but you cannot turn a single leaf back; it is impossible to rearrange, change or destroy a single letter: as it is written, whether bad or good, it will remain so forever, and so it will once be read by the Judge in the hearing of the Angels” 1263. Time is neither phenomenal nor illusory. There is time in the other world, the afterlife. “In our earthly world, time is generally composed of events and changes, and is determined by their sequence and mutual distance; something similar to this should be there - beyond the grave" 1264. “Although they do not have our time, there must be something similar to time; for there is one God above time" 1265. There - “a thousand years, like one day, and, perhaps, one day is like a thousand years!” 1266 And in hell, the enemy of souls “has his festivals, his circles, his correspondences” - his annual cycles 1267. Focus on the future characterizes Innocent's perception of time. The solution there is in the future and the invisible. Being in itself, in its completeness, cannot be contained in the moment of the present. Everything knowable is only a random fragment, understood from the future, a future that, under the conditions of our earthly life, always remains the future, an incomprehensible “thing in itself.” In this regard, the symbols of the veil and threshold acquire particular significance. These are two symbols that Innocent 1268 used especially often. He has a wonderful expression “insight under the surface of things” 1269 - not behind, not through, but precisely under the surface of things, like a veil. The whole phenomenal world was for him, first of all, a veil 1270. “The spiritual world is closed from us with an impenetrable curtain: but there is everything precious for us; there is our Lord and Savior; there are the Apostles, Martyrs, Pastors and Teachers of the Church and all the Saints; there are our ancestors, most of our known, relatives and friends" 1271. “However,” continues Innocent, “for the most sensual person, isn’t the veil of the spiritual world apparently lifted every time in the sacrament of the Eucharist? What is this if not a sign and a gift from another world? How is this not a guarantee of immortality? Isn’t it a covenant of eternal life, in which the living and the dead are apparently united?” 1272 The impenetrable and incomprehensible border between two worlds always worried and attracted Innocent. All roads and paths led exactly here, to this mysterious and terrible limit. “All of us alive are like people standing by a great and wide river, waiting to cross: the boat, suddenly unable to accommodate everyone, constantly returns and takes several at a time. But do those who crossed the river return for those who remained? Never: they usually wait for them on the opposite bank. So, of course, now our relatives and those we know on the floor of being expect us too” 1273. And knowing the incomprehensibility of the eternal mystery, Innocent still tried to take a new approach to the mystery and impenetrability of the wall separating both worlds. Why don't the dead return to earth? 1274 Why is the afterlife unknown to us? 1275 – he offers these inquisitive questions in his sermons. “No matter how majestic the vault of heaven is,” Innocent wrote in his notes, “but as soon as you look at it carefully, you immediately feel that it is the wrong side, and the face is there!” 1276 In this unsolved there lies the answer to the phenomenal world. The entire sensory world is only a shadow of the future, a shadow of the non-evening day of the Kingdom of Christ - eternity. “Time is the same eternity, only not standing and abiding, but arriving and moving into infinity” 1277. And along with the direct, forward movement of individual time, the eternal circle of the church year rises above it. Innocent had an unusually deep feeling for the metaphysics and poetry of the church's annual cycle. It is no coincidence that his sermons are combined into “Weeks”. He seemed to show the holiday from the perspective of church time, casting a glance back at the past time. Thus, in his sermon on Ascension, he recalled Christmas and the words of the Christmas song of 1278. Baroque preaching almost deliberately ignored the church environment and liturgical background. Filaret's liturgical symbolism was confined to the circle of high, abstract liturgical categories. Innocent felt this day as a unique, unrepeatable day. He has sermons that are nothing more than an explanation of individual specific moments of worship. This is, for example, his word on the clock on Friday of the first week of Great Lent 1279. These are his sermons during Holy Week, when the church “alternately represents the upper room of Zion and Gethsemane, then Golgotha ​​and the Heights of Joseph” 1280. The same is the word for Easter, ending with the exclamation: “Why sit inactive on the rivers of Babylon and be content with the mere remembrance of the mountainous fatherland? Look! The royal doors are open, and the throne of grace is visible to everyone: this is an invitation home! Call for supper! Let us hasten, brothers, let us hasten; the risen Savior calls us!” 1281 Innocent's sermons had a liturgical time coordinate. The eternal movement of church time was eternal rest in the Heavenly Father: above the straight line there is an eternal circle. Und wenn die Zeit verrauschend flieht, Jahrszeiten kommen wieder. [When time rushes by quickly, The seasons change quickly.] The seasons and the holy days of the Church returned again and again, and the sun of the holy days shone in the world, healing from internal anxiety and the feeling of incessant, everlasting dying. The whole world was drawn into the orbit of Innocent's words and speeches, present as a dark or half-lit background to them. And Kireyevsky’s words involuntarily come to mind again, that Innocent knows everything about our world. Innocent was clearly aware of the deep relationship between the monastic and military ranks 1282. But military art interested him not only from the symbolic and ethical side. Strategy as such was the subject of his constant curiosity. Sometimes it seems that Innocent is a military man dressed in a cassock. Filaret spoke about the events of military history, rising to such a height from which the outlines of individual objects become indistinguishable, where names disappear. Plato spoke of military victories as an observer from afar, from the safety of Moscow. Innocent spoke as an eyewitness, or we can say more, as a participant. He saw Sevastopol up close - “a burning and unburnt bush” 1283. And this is the story of an eyewitness: “Imagine the twelve - current - fields of the earth, in the form of a star semicircle, stretching from one end to the other of the sea bay; Imagine that this expanse of earth - a space wide - has become fire-breathing, so that day and night it spews out fire, bogeymen and death. And under this fiery crown is our long-suffering Sevastopol!” 1284 During the bombing of Odessa on Holy Saturday 1854, Innocent served liturgy in the cathedral. When they sang the sacramental verse, there was a deafening explosion, the strong walls of the cathedral church shook, the glass rattled, the prayer chants fell silent, and the people, struck with fear, sank to the church floor. There were sobs and screams. And at these moments, almost only Innokenty retained complete presence of mind. The royal doors opened... After waiting until the frightened people came to their senses, the bishop came out of the altar, took the pastoral staff and began a conversation: “So you did not dare to leave the tomb of your Savior even in these terrible moments, when death and destruction hover over your own heads!” 1285 The name of a knight does not suit Filaret. There is too much of the high priestly and hieratic in him. Innocent was a knight and poet who searched for reflections of the sky on earth. Brief information about the life and work of Russian preachers Saint Dmitry of Rostov 1651–1709 Saint Demetrius, in the world Daniil Savvich Tuptalo, was born in December 1651 in Little Russia, in the town of Makarovo, 40 versts from Kyiv along the Zhitomir highway 1286. In 1650, his father Savva Grigorievich served as a Cossack of the Makarov Hundred of the Kyiv Regiment. Subsequently he became a centurion and died in 1703. His mother’s name was Maria Mikhailovna (died in 1689). The parents were distinguished by deep piety and sincere piety. Daniel's three younger sisters subsequently also took monastic vows in 1287. The future saint received his initial education at home. In 1660 his parents moved to Kyiv. At the age of eleven, Daniel entered the Kiev-Mohyla College, the rector and teacher of which was the famous scholastic preacher Ioanniky Galatovsky. Here young Daniel studied Greek and Latin and mastered the classical sciences. On July 9, 1668, Daniel became a monk with the name Demetrius in honor of the Great Martyr Demetrius of Thessalonica. Hegumen Meletius Dzika performed tonsure at the Kirillov Monastery. On March 25, 1669, on the feast of the Annunciation, the monk Demetrius was ordained a hierodeacon (in the city of Kanev), on May 23, 1675, on the day of the Descent of the Holy Spirit, he was ordained a hieromonk by Archbishop Lazar Baranovich of Chernigov in the Gustynsky Monastery and appointed preacher at the Assumption Cathedral in the city of Chernigov. The fame of the young preacher spread quickly. Worldly and spiritual authorities began to invite him to their place. For several years, Hieromonk Dimitri preached the Word of God in various monasteries in Ukraine, Belarus and Lithuania. In 1677 he left for Lithuania, where he stayed for almost a year and a half. Here he thoroughly studied the Polish language and Polish morals, and became thoroughly acquainted with the Roman Catholic doctrine not only from books, but also from observations of church and social life. Personal acquaintance with Latin-Polish writers and Polish clergy gave him the opportunity to become convinced, on the one hand, of the sad situation and precarious future of Orthodoxy in Poland, and on the other hand, to consciously turn his sympathies to the Muscovite state 1288. The sermons of Hieromonk Demetrius in Vilna, Slutsk and other cities of this region were directed mainly against the desires of the Jesuits to spread the union. In 1681, Father Dimitry became abbot of the Maksakov monastery, a year later he was transferred in the same rank to the Baturinsky St. Nicholas Monastery, and in 1684 he was invited to the Kiev Pechersk Lavra by its rector, Archimandrite Varlaam (Yasinsky). Knowing the spiritual orientation of his former student, his education, penchant for scientific work, as well as great literary talents, Archimandrite Varlaam entrusted Hieromonk Demetrius with the compilation of the Chetiyh-Minea (lives of the saints) for the entire year 1289. This “obedience,” received in May 1684, became for the hieromonk, and then for St. Demetrius, the work of his whole life. This enormous church-historical work, to which he devoted almost twenty years, from 1684 to 1705, glorified his name forever. Saint Demetrius laid the foundation for Russian scientific hagiography. He drew on a wide range of sources, researched and analyzed them. When writing “The Lives of the Saints,” the then authoritative collections “Vita sanctorum Orientis et Occidentis” (a 16th-century Latin edition of the ancient lives of saints, collected and retold in the 10th century) were used. Greek scientist Simeon Metaphrastus), “Acta Sanctorium” of the Bollandists, as well as the popular collection of lives of the Polish Catholic theologian Piotr Skarga “Zywoty swietych” (Wilno, 1579) 1290. In July 1688, the first part of the Chetiykh-Menai (September, October, November) entered the printing house of the Kiev Pechersk Lavra. In addition to scientific ones, Hieromonk Demetrius also performed other church obediences. Alternately, he was the abbot of several monasteries: in 1692 - Baturinsky, then - Glukhovsky, and later - Kirillovsky. In 1697, with the rank of archimandrite, he moved to the Yeletsky Monastery in the city of Chernigov, and in 1699 he was transferred to the Novgorod-Seversky Spassky Monastery. In 1701, by decree of Tsar Peter I, Archimandrite Dimitri was summoned to Moscow, where on March 23, in the Assumption Cathedral of the Kremlin, he became metropolitan and was appointed to the Siberian Metropolitan See in the city of Tobolsk. Due to the impossibility of traveling to Siberia due to the flood, the saint remained in Moscow and lived in the Chudov Monastery. Some time later, Peter I revoked his decree, taking into account the poor health of the saint and the importance of completing his scientific work. Soon Saint Demetrius received an appointment to Rostov-Yaroslavl, where he arrived on March 1, 1702, on the Sunday of the second week of Lent. And here Saint Demetrius did not abandon his work on compiling the lives of the saints. In addition, he put a lot of effort into the spiritual enlightenment of the flock entrusted to him. For the children of clergymen, he created a school in which the number of students reached two hundred or more. The saint took active measures to strengthen the unity of the Russian Orthodox Church, which was disrupted at that time by the Old Believer schism. Shortly before his death, he completed the work “Search for the schismatic Bryn faith, about their teaching and deeds.” The saint also touches on the topic of schism in “Brief Questions and Answers about Faith.” The Saint’s work “The Cell Chronicle,” which dates back to 3600 from the creation of the world, received wide recognition. Devoting a lot of time to scientific works, the saint did not leave a single day without being present at Divine services. On Sundays and holidays he himself performed the liturgy and after it delivered teachings 1291. “By the varied content of Saint Demetrius’s numerous works, we can say that he was both a spiritual leader - a preacher of the Word of God, and a Theologian - an interpreter of the dogmas of the Orthodox Church, and an exposer of the errors of the schism in its many movements and sects, and a Church historian, and a biographer of saints, and a singer-hymnographer of spiritual poems.” 1292. He was a tireless educator and promoter of church order and order. Saint Demetrius died on October 28, 1709. According to his will, his body was buried in the Spaso-Yakovlevsky Monastery, in the Conception Church, near the wall - in the southwestern corner of the church. His relics were found incorrupt on September 21, 1752. The incorrupt body of St. Demetrius, due to the many “miracles and healings that came from him, was recognized as holy relics” on April 1, 1757, and on April 22 of the same year, St. Demetrius, during the reign of Empress Elizabeth, was canonized. This was the first canonization performed in the 18th century. Commemoration of Saint Demetrius on September 21. On June 4, 1991, the relics of St. Demetrius were transferred from the funds of the museum-reserve to the Assumption Cathedral of the Rostov Kremlin, where a prayer service was served. In the evening of the same day, a religious procession took place to the Spaso-Yakovlevsky Monastery and the shrine with the relics was installed in the same place where it had once been. “Rejoice, city of Rostov, as from Kiev, you have received this shepherd Demetrius, now revered among the saints,” 1293. Metropolitan Platon (Levshin) 1737–1812 Metropolitan Platon, in the world Peter Yegorovich Levshin, was born on June 29, 1737, on the day of the celebration of the memory of the great teachers of the Church and preachers of the Gospel, the holy apostles Peter and Paul. Peter's father, Georgy Danilov, was a clergyman in the village of Chashnikov, which was located forty miles from Moscow along the St. Petersburg road. Later he became a priest. Mother Tatyana was distinguished by her piety and taught her children the thought of God and the fear of God (she died in 1771 in Moscow). From his father, Peter inherited “straightforwardness, frankness, simple manners, unselfishness, liveliness, ardor, sensitivity” 1294. At the age of five, Peter began to be taught to read and write, and at the same time his extraordinary musical abilities were discovered. When the boy was ten years old, his father petitioned to enroll him in the Moscow Slavic-Greek-Latin Academy, where he adopted the surname Levshinov (or Levshin). Peter supplemented his school education by reading books, especially historical ones. At the Academy, he earned fame for his intelligence and abilities. Upon completion of his education, Pyotr Levshin was left at the Academy as a teacher of literature and a catechist and soon became famous in Moscow for his magnificent gift of speech. His sermons were distinguished by extraordinary emotionality and sincerity. The young preacher's speeches attracted many listeners. In 1758, he was invited to the Theological Seminary at the Trinity-Sergius Lavra to the department of rhetoric. On August 14 of the same year, Pyotr Levshin was tonsured a monk with the name Plato, and on August 30 he was ordained a hierodeacon in the Assumption Cathedral of the Moscow Kremlin. In 1761, after his ordination to the rank of hieromonk (1759), Father Platon was appointed rector of the Trinity Seminary, and in 1763 - vicar of the Trinity St. Sergius Lavra. The meeting of Hieromonk Plato with Catherine II (during the empress’s trip to the Trinity-Sergius Lavra in 1763) became significant for Russian history. Soon the empress appointed Fr. Plato as a teacher of the law to Tsarevich Pavel Petrovich. At the same time (until 1770) he served as a court preacher. The success of his sermons is evidenced by the empress’s statement: “Father Plato makes of us whatever he wants. He wants us to cry - and we cry" 1295. Metropolitan Plato had a significant influence on the formation of the spiritual views of the future Emperor Paul I, who throughout his life had the most sincere friendly feelings for his teacher of the law and was in correspondence with him. In 1770, Father Platon was consecrated to the rank of bishop and appointed Archbishop of Tver. January 21, 1775 - transferred to the Moscow department and at the same time appointed vice-rector of the Moscow Theological Academy. In 1787 he received the title of metropolitan. In August 1812, during the invasion of Napoleon, Metropolitan Platon “arrived in Moscow to die with his flock” 1296 and give a blessing to fight the enemy. On November 11, 1812, the Metropolitan died in the Spaso-Bethans Monastery, which he founded, where he was buried in the Church of St. Righteous Lazarus. Now his relics rest in the Spiritual Church of the Trinity-Sergius Lavra. Metropolitan Platon headed the Moscow diocese from the beginning of 1775 until June 1811. His activities greatly contributed to the flourishing of church architecture in Moscow and the Moscow region. Significant repair and construction work has been consistently carried out in the Trinity-Sergius Lavra for almost thirty years. In 1777, a new sacristy chamber was built. According to the testimony of the Metropolitan himself, at the same time he “made a new iconostasis, covered it all with silver, in the Trinity Cathedral, and painted the walls in gold; the same in the refectory church, and in Nikon, and in Micah, and in the Soshestvenskaya church, new iconostases everywhere, and again painted with wall scriptures, and in the hospital church a new iconostasis, and at Smolenskaya, again painted on the walls and a new porch at the Assumption Cathedral, and two new tents, Serapionovskaya and Maximovskaya, and surrounded by a stone fence Korbukha and the garden near the Lavra, and many others made constructions and amendments...” 1297 In 1802–1803. a new building for the seminary was built in 1298. In 1805–1807 The roofs and domes of the Trinity Cathedral and St. Nicholas Church, the central dome of the Assumption Cathedral and the domes of the gateway church of St. were again covered with copper and gilded. John the Baptist. The four small chapters of the Assumption Cathedral were also decorated with “gilded copper sheets, not completely, but like stars...” 1299 In 1806, a new Holy Gate was built. Metropolitan Platon was the most educated man of his century. He was distinguished by extraordinary eloquence and generally recognized literary and spiritual talents: he enjoyed exceptional all-Russian authority. “Plato is a follower of Chrysostom,” wrote A.P. Sumarokov, “he has his talents, his properties, his taste... Plato is like a fast-flowing river and carries everything that it encounters with it” 1300. Among the metropolitan’s works: “Instruction to deans” (1775) 1301, “Admonition to schismatics” (1776), “Short Catechism for Young Children” (1775), “Initial Teaching for a Person Who Wants to Learn Books” (1776), “Catechism in Conversations Offered to the People,” “Catechism for Clergy and Church Officials” (1775), “Orthodox Doctrine of Faith” (1765), up to 500 sermons outlining his theoretical concepts of preaching in the preface to their collection 1302, “Life of St. Sergius of Radonezh", "Brief Russian Church History" (1805) 1303. About the latter, S. M. Solovyov wrote that she “with honor ends the 18th century in our historical literature and begins the 19th century. ...Plato took up [this] work at an advanced age, 68 years old, but... imprinted his work with the seal of a powerful, young talent” 1304. In addition, Metropolitan Plato wrote: “Akathist to St. Sergius” 1305 and “Akathist to the Blessed Prince Daniel” (printed with a service and life in 1795) 1306. When in 1778 the Synod issued a decree on sending chronicles and other landmarks from all monasteries, Bishop Plato was entrusted with its execution. Under his supervision, the archives of the Moscow Consistory were put in order and the lists of the Archangel-Gorod, Novgorod and Typographic chronicles of 1307 were printed by the Moscow Synodal Printing House. Bishop Platon left his own “Notes on the Life of Metropolitan Platon”, which he completed until 1807, and then supplemented by the abbot of the Trinity-Sergius Lavra, Archimandrite Samuil Zapolsky. After the death of Metropolitan Plato (in 1812), his notes on his travels to Kyiv in 1308, as well as to Yaroslavl, Kostroma and Vladimir in 1309, were published. The works of Metropolitan Plato, through numerous translations, were also known in Western Europe. The Metropolitan himself was fluent in Latin, Greek and French. It is known that he corresponded with English theologians. Many Englishmen visited the metropolitan in the Trinity-Sergius Lavra and in Bethany, and his younger brother studied at Oxford in the 1760s 1310. During his life in St. Petersburg, at court, “he almost always had a meeting of foreign people, such as Greeks, Serbs, Dalmatians, French, Germans, Italians and others” 1311. At the same time, Father Plato firmly and skillfully defended his religious beliefs among the Voltairian courtiers. He knew how to get along with others, showing a lot of tact and resourcefulness 1312. Voltaire, to whom Catherine sent in a French translation in 1313 the speech of Father Plato, spoken in the Peter and Paul Cathedral in St. Petersburg after the brilliant victory of the Russian fleet over the Turks at Chesma, wrote in response to the empress: “This speech, addressed to the founder of St. Petersburg and your fleets, is, in my opinion, the most famous monument in the world; I think that never has any speaker had such a happy subject for his words, not excluding the Greek Plato" 1314 Throughout his life, Metropolitan Platon made a lot of efforts to develop Russian spiritual education: he transformed the Moscow Theological Academy and opened seminaries in the Spaso-Bifansky and St. Nicholas-Perervinsky monasteries. In 1792, he blessed the opening of the Optina Hermitage in 1315. The Metropolitan spared no expense on schools and, in addition, supported many seminarians in every possible way. One of his students was Saint Philaret (Drozdov). Under the influence of the personality and works of Metropolitan Plato, at the turn of the 18th and 19th centuries, a whole galaxy of “learned monks” formed and “shone” in Russia. Among them are His Eminence Ambrose (Podobedov), His Eminence Augustine (Vinogradsky) and many others. Metropolitan Filaret (Drozdov) 1782–1867 Metropolitan Philaret is a hierarch of the Russian Orthodox Church, an outstanding preacher, and a learned theologian. His influence had a beneficial effect not only in spiritual, educational and church-administrative circles, but also in the entire public life of Russia in the 19th century. For the height of spiritual life, for the purity of the Orthodox faith and church service, Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow and Kolomna was canonized in November 1994. His memory is celebrated on November 19 (December 2, new style). Saint Philaret, in the world Vasily Mikhailovich Drozdov, was born on December 26, 1782 (January 6, 1783 BC) in the city of Kolomna, Moscow province, and at baptism received the name in honor of St. Basil the Great. Vasily's father Mikhail Fedorovich was a cathedral archpriest and teacher, an intelligent and well-read man. The son forever retained the warmest and most tender feelings for his mother, Evdokia Nikitichna, and took care of her throughout his life. The pious atmosphere in which Vasily Drozdov spent his childhood and adolescence contributed to the harmonious development of the personality of the future saint. Vasily received his initial education at home under the guidance of his parents in the family of his grandfather, Nikita Afanasyevich, a priest of the Church of the Epiphany in 1316, who taught his grandson to play the harp. From 1791 to 1799 Vasily Drozdov studied at the Kolomna Theological Seminary. He completed his education at the Trinity Lavra Seminary (1800–1803), which was under the special patronage of Metropolitan Platon (Levshin) of Moscow. On November 21, 1803, “after an examination personally administered to him by Metropolitan Platon himself, he was appointed to the position of teacher of Greek and Hebrew at the same Lavra seminary” 1317. In 1806 he became a poetry teacher. Soon the brilliant preaching talent of Vasily Drozdov emerged. On January 12, 1806, he delivered his first remarkable sermon in the Trinity Cathedral of the Sergius Lavra on the day of the celebration of the liberation of the Lavra from the Poles. This sermon was highly appreciated by Metropolitan Platon, who wrote to his vicar, Bishop of Dmitrievsky Augustin (Vinogradsky): “And I now have an excellent preacher, teacher Drozdov” 1318. In the same year (by order of Metropolitan Platon) the young teacher received the position of Lavra preacher. On November 16, 1808, Vasily Drozdov was tonsured a monk with the name Philaret in memory of the holy righteous Philaret the Merciful. On November 21 of the same year, the monk Philaret was ordained hierodeacon by Metropolitan Platon, in December he was transferred to St. Petersburg, and on March 1, 1809 he was appointed inspector of the Theological Seminary and assigned to the department of philosophical sciences. On March 28, 1809, he was ordained hieromonk by Metropolitan Ambrose. In 1810 he was transferred to the Theological Academy to the position of Bachelor of Theological Sciences. He taught scripture (hermeneutics), biblical and church history, church law and parts of dogmatic theology. On June 30, 1811, for “distinction in preaching the Word of God” he was awarded a pectoral cross with precious stones, and on July 8 he was elevated to the rank of archimandrite. On March 11, 1812, he was appointed to the post of rector of the St. Petersburg Theological Academy with the title of ordinary professor of theological sciences (he remained in this position until 1819). Almost simultaneously, Archimandrite Philaret received the title of rector of the first-class Novgorod Yuryev Monastery. At this time, Archimandrite Philaret gained great fame for his sermons (“Word on the Death of Kutuzov”). Archimandrite Philaret often preached in the palace church in the presence of the royal family. But after a speech delivered on December 26, 1814 about love for the world, in which he depicted the vanity of the world and man’s desire to combine this vanity with the love of God, Archimandrite Philaret was forced to forever part with the title of court preacher 1319. On March 19, 1816, by decree of the Holy Synod, he was appointed rector of the Moscow stauropegial Novospassky Monastery. Saint Philaret was an active member of the Bible Society and since 1816 he worked diligently on translating the Bible into Russian. This subsequently brought upon him the disfavor of the Synod (1824). The Russian translation of the Bible was published at the direction of Metropolitan Philaret in 1858. On August 5, 1817, Archimandrite Philaret was ordained bishop and appointed vicar of the St. Petersburg diocese with the rank of bishop of Revel, and on March 19, 1819, he became archbishop of the Tver diocese and a member of the Holy Synod (with the permission of the sovereign he left the presence of the Synod in 1849). One can get an idea of ​​the work of St. Philaret as a diocesan bishop, for example, from the fact that he managed to travel around the entire Tver diocese for a hundred days, and he preached in every church. In 1820, Saint Philaret was transferred to the Yaroslavl diocese, and on July 2, 1821, he became archbishop of the Moscow diocese and holy archimandrite of the Holy Trinity Sergius Lavra. In 1823, Bishop Philaret compiled, on behalf of the Synod, the “Orthodox Catechism” (republished with some changes in the Slavic language in 1827). Through the efforts of the saint, the religious and educational institutions of the Moscow diocese were raised to a significant height. Saint Philaret resolutely opposed the errors, heretical teachings, schismatics, sectarianism and superstitions that were widespread in the society of that time. He was the defender of Orthodoxy in all its purity and inviolability. “All the treasures of the Orthodox faith, interpretation of spiritual mysteries, revelation of the meaning of the sacraments, guidance to spiritual life - all the inspired wisdom of holy teachers and church pastors accumulated over centuries, their invaluable experience is reflected in the works of Metropolitan Philaret. Like the ancient saints who established the purity of Orthodoxy at the Ecumenical Councils, our Saint Philaret can be called the Father of the Church. All growing Russia studied according to the catechism he compiled” 1320. Saint Philaret ruled the Moscow diocese for almost 50 years, first in the rank of archbishop, and from August 1826 in the rank of metropolitan. This was a brilliant period in the history of the Russian church. The authority of the metropolitan was high not only in the church world, but also in social and even poetic affairs. St. Philaret’s response to the poem (1828) by A. S. Pushkin is significant: “A random gift, a vain gift,” Life, why were you given to me?” "Not in vain, not by chance This poem, signed with the letter F., soon appeared in print. It is known that Metropolitan Philaret drew up the royal manifesto of February 19, 1861 on the emancipation of the peasants, although he was against the abolition of serfdom. For the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, which was under construction, Saint Philaret thought out and wrote a theological program for the placement of the subjects of the paintings in the space of the church. Metropolitan Philaret was distinguished by his outstanding talents as a spiritual writer. He wrote many valuable works, such as: “On Russian rhetoric of the 11th century” (note read at the Imperial Academy of Sciences on January 18, 1836). “Transcribing church biblical history”, “Notes on the book of Genesis”, “Conversations between the searching and the confident about the Orthodoxy of the Eastern Greek-Russian Church.” In 1845, the first edition of his sermons was published under the title: “Words and Speeches of Synodal Member Philaret, Metropolitan of Moscow,” which quickly sold out. Soon, Filaret's sermons were translated into French and German. The preaching talent of Saint Philaret was highly appreciated by his contemporaries, who called him the “Moscow Chrysostom.” In many of the saint's sermons one can see his desire for solitude. He satisfied this need for silence by retiring for a time to the Gethsemane monastery he created near the Trinity-Sergius Lavra. The appearance of Metropolitan Philaret made an indelible impression on his contemporaries. Quite short in stature, thinned by fasting, the saint was filled with extraordinary spiritual strength. No one could withstand his sharp, penetrating gaze 1321. Shortly before his death, the saint saw his father in a dream, who commanded him to take care of the 19th. Despite his weakness, he, fulfilling this order, served on September 19 and October 19. On November 19, 1867, Metropolitan Philaret celebrated the Divine Liturgy and rested. His death was painless. The bishop was buried, according to his wishes, in his beloved Trinity-Sergius Lavra. There now his relics rest in the Assumption Cathedral. “The Orthodox Russian people honor Saint Philaret as a warm man of prayer, a great lamp of the Orthodox faith, whose numerous creations still radiate the light of the Truth of Christ” 1322. Archbishop Innokenty (Borisov) 1800–1857 Archbishop of Kherson Innocent, in the world Ivan Alekseevich Borisov, was born on December 15, 1800 in the city of Yelets, Oryol province, into the family of a priest. The family was extremely poor. Father Alexy did not have a school education. I learned to read and write on my own. He filled in the gaps in his education by reading theological works. Having become a priest of the Assumption Church, he devoted a lot of energy to his parish, took care of its enlightenment, and constantly preached the Word of God. Mother Akilina Gavrilovna, completely illiterate and simple-minded, had an unshakable faith in God. The boy was born so frail that his father had to baptize him on his very birthday in 1323. They named him John. He grew up in a devout atmosphere. He loved to listen to his father’s sermons and, returning home from church, he conveyed what he had heard word for word, asking for clarification of what was incomprehensible. Under the guidance of his father, he learned to read and write early and began reading theological books from his home library. In January 1810, John immediately entered the second class of the Voronezh Theological Seminary, where his older brother Matvey was already studying. The next year, John was already in fourth grade. However, due to the death of their father, the brothers were unable to graduate from the seminary. At public expense they were admitted to the Oryol Theological Seminary. Excellent abilities and knowledge, a special gift of eloquence, distinguished John Borisov from among students, therefore, upon completion of the course in 1819, he was sent to the newly transformed Kyiv Theological Academy. At the Academy, Borisov's talent developed and strengthened. He especially loved to read and compose sermons, which, by their high qualities, even then foreshadowed in him the “Russian Chrysostom” 1324. At the academic graduation ceremony, Borisov read part of his student work to the assembled guests: “On the Moral Character of Our Lord Jesus Christ” 1325. This reading was met with thunderous applause. Evgeniy Bolkhovitinov, who was present, saw in the young man the rising luminary of Russian theological thought. Ivan Borisov brilliantly graduated from the Academy with a master's degree in theology and was appointed in 1823 as inspector and professor of church history and Greek at the St. Petersburg Theological Seminary. Seven months later he was appointed rector of the Alexander Nevsky Theological School. On December 10, 1823, he took monastic vows with the name Innocent, and a month and a half later he was ordained a hieromonk. Soon the popularity of the young professor spread beyond the academy. He often delivered sermons in the Lavra and in the Kazan Cathedral. The fame of the “New Chrysostom from the Theological Academy” spread throughout St. Petersburg. In the sermons of Fr. Innocent “was captivated and captivated by the rare combination of clarity and simplicity of words, the musical rhythm of speech and its artistic picturesqueness” 1326. After delivering his sermons, Fr. Innocent began to publish them in the magazine “Christian Reading,” published at the Theological Academy in St. Petersburg. Interest in this magazine increased sharply after the appearance in it of sermons and scientific and literary works by Fr. Innocent: “The Life of the Holy Apostle Paul”, “The Life of the Holy Martyr Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage” and “The Last Days of the Earthly Life of Jesus Christ”. In the latter work, the historical-archaeological method was first applied to the study of the life of Christ, thereby Fr. Innocent was half a century ahead of his time. In 1826 Fr. Innocent became archimandrite. In 1829 he received the academic degree of Doctor of Theology, and on August 27, 1830 he was appointed rector and professor of the Kyiv Theological Academy. Here he lectured on comparative theology and liturgics. One of his students, later Archimandrite Macarius of Moscow, spoke of the talent of his teacher in the following way: “He was a man in the true sense of genius: a high, bright, penetrating mind, a rich, inexhaustible imagination, a vivid and extensive memory, easy and quick intelligence, subtle, correct taste, the gift of creativity, inventiveness and originality, the most perfect gift of speech - all this was combined in wonderful harmony in him" 1327. Innocent advised students to study not only special sciences, but also other sciences. As rector, he expanded the program: he restored the course of ecclesiology and church legislation. The greatest merit was that he introduced teaching in Russian. Before him, all subjects were taught in Latin, which kept Russian theology completely dependent on Catholicism. In Kyiv, the name of Innocent enjoyed universal respect; he was known as a versatile scientist, an excellent literary figure, theologian and preacher; truly, this man was a living encyclopedia. There was no scientific field in which Innocent was not knowledgeable to a certain extent. To publish his works, he created the magazine “Sunday Reading,” which soon became one of the most widespread in Russia. On November 21, 1836, Archimandrite Innocent was consecrated Bishop of Chernigov and appointed vicar of the Kyiv diocese. On March 1, 1841, he was moved to the episcopal see in Vologda, and on December 31 of the same year he was appointed to the Kharkov see, where on April 15, 1845 he was elevated to the rank of archbishop. On April 1, 1847, under Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow, he was appointed a member of the Holy Synod. During this period, along with collections of sermons (“Conversations for Great Lent”, “Conversations for the Holy Pentecost”), the first hymnographic creations of St. Innocent were published (“Akathist to the Divine Passion”, “Service and Akathist to St. Archangel Michael”, “Akathist to the Protection of the Mother of God”, “Akathist to the Kasperov Icon of the Mother of God”). On February 24, 1848, on the day of the discovery of the head of John the Baptist, he was moved to the diocese of Kherson and Tauride. Here the saint had the idea of ​​restoring ancient Chersonesos as the place of baptism of St. Vladimir. In Odessa, just as before in Kiev, Vologda and Kharkov, Saint Innocent took care of the splendor of his diocese, preserved and updated its church-historical monuments, and raised the spiritual and moral level of his flock. During the Crimean Company, amid the roar of guns and the whistle of bullets, the bishop courageously and fearlessly performed divine services in Odessa and the Crimea. On April 8, 1854, during Holy Week, the enemy fleet besieged Odessa. When the bombing of the city began on Good Friday, Archbishop Innocent celebrated the Sacrament of Anointing for the first time as a bishop's service in the cathedral, which remains an annual tradition to this day. On September 26, 1855, 120 warships approached Odessa, threatening it with destruction. His Grace Innocent and all the people performed continuous penitential prayers with an akathist before the miraculous image of the Mother of God of Kasperovskaya (this image was found in the middle of the 19th century under Archbishop Innocent). Through the intercession of the Ascended Governor of the Heavenly Forces, the enemies were removed. Since then, the icon of the Mother of God of Kasperovskaya has become the patroness of Odessa and the entire Black Sea region, in memory of this, every Friday morning a prayer service with an akathist to the Intercession of the Mother of God is solemnly performed in the cathedral. During the Crimean War, Saint Innocent often visited Simferopol, Sevastopol, hospitals and battlefields, providing spiritual and material support to the soldiers. For the selfless service of Saint Innocent, the people called him: “a great citizen of the Russian land” 1328. After the conclusion of peace on April 8, 1856, the Bishop put a lot of work into restoring the shrines destroyed during the war. Under Archbishop Innocent, the construction of the Transfiguration Cathedral was completed, a religious procession on the day of the founding of Odessa and the annual transfer of the miraculous image of the Mother of God of Kasperovskaya from Kherson to Odessa were approved. Archbishop Innocent was a true monk. He had the idea of ​​​​creating the Crimean Athos and eldership. The saint promotes the discovery of the Bakhchisarai monastery and the Kotyarlez hermitage near Kerch, an ancient Greek church near Chatyrdag and many healing springs in Crimea 1329. On May 25, 1857, on the day of Trinity Parental Saturday, Saint Innocent asked to serve a requiem mass and read the canon to the Holy Trinity. It was five o’clock in the morning, it was dawning, the bishop came to the window and said: “Lord, what a day!” - and a moment later he died in the arms of two cell attendants, bowing in prayer 1330. On the Day of the Holy Spirit, the bishop began his priestly service in the Odessa church. He died on Trinity Day. One hundred and forty years later, the holiness of Archbishop Innocent was witnessed by the extraordinary fragrance of his relics after their discovery on July 18, 1997 and their transfer to the Holy Dormition Church of the Odessa Monastery. On December 13, 1997, on the day of remembrance of the Holy Apostle Andrew the First-Called, the heavenly patron of the city of Odessa, the Ukrainian Orthodox Church glorified the new Odessa saint, St. Innocent, in the Holy Assumption Cathedral. In all articles dedicated to V.P. Zubov, the year of birth is incorrectly indicated: 1899. Documents from the family archive indicate that V.P. Zubov was born in 1900. Works of Saint Demetrius, Metropolitan of Rostov. Parts I–II. M., 1848. In the following it will be abbreviated as: I. P. 480. Cp. I. P. 9. In the Adoration of the Most Holy Theotokos: “I adore your sinless conception and birth from your holy parents, Joachim and Anna (I. p. 284). “It is not impossible,” writes Filaret on this occasion, “that St. Demetrius understood the words in the same way that people in the West are now philosophizing about this” (Letters to Archimandrite Anthony. Part IV, p. 16). Cp. II. P. 81; III. pp. 53, 479. II. P. 490; III. P. 635. For counting Blessed Jerome among the saints in the Four Menaions, Patriarch Joachim reproached St. Demetrius: “The Holy Church of Jerome does not count his saints in the catalog of saints and does not accept his teachings; much of his corruption in the writings is disgusting” (Archive of South-Western Russia. Part I. Vol. V). Wed. from I.A. Shlyapkin: St. Dimitri Rostovsky and his time. St. Petersburg, 1891. pp. 191–193 and 238–239, as well as in F. Titov: On the history of the Kyiv Theological Academy in the 17th–18th centuries. 2: St. Dimitri, Metropolitan of Rostov, former student of the Academy. Works of K. D. A. 1909. Book. X. P. 190. In the writings of St. Demetrius of Rostov is mentioned: Ambrose of Milan – II. pp. 37, 116, 295, 421, 472, 515, 6 6 8; III. pp. 57, 71, 146 and 149, 199 and 206, 539, 606; St. Augustine – II. pp. 7, 261, 306; III. pp. 207, 259, 511; Jerome – II. pp. 243, 308, 490; III. S. 2, 208, 370, 635; Grigory Dvoeslov – II. pp. 314, 624, 644; III. pp. 130–131, 320, 399, 516, 529; Cyprian of Carthage – III. pp. 182, 329, 407. Printed by A. A. Titov in the notes to the “Chronicle of the Rostov Bishops” (Published by the Society of Lovers of Ancient Writing. St. Petersburg, 1890. P. 37–43). About Thomas Mlodzianowski and St. For Dimitri, see I. A. Shlyapkin (Cit. pp. 386–387). V. S. 96; Wed publication of the same sermon based on a manuscript from Titov’s collection in “Readings” (1884. Book 2. P. 7): “truth and glory” instead of “true glory” and without the Latin mark III. P. 406. Met. Filaret in his letters to Archimandrite. Anthony (Part IV. M., 1884. P. 16) cites the curious opinion of Ignatius Brianchaninov about this review: “We do not know when Saint Demetrius was introduced into the grace-filled dignity of St. persons, and perhaps wrote the above when he was simply a pious writer or preacher" II. P. 262. Wed. even in the sermon published by Barsov from Titov’s collection: “action and vision, that is, action and contemplation” (“Readings.” 1884. Book 2. P. 7. Comp. V. P. 96) II. P. 538 – from the Hungarian Chronograph. The source is not indicated in the manuscript. Morozov P. Feofan Prokopovich as a writer. St. Petersburg, 1880. P. 80. La Russie et le Saint Siège III. P. 241. The above passage almost exactly coincides with the following passage of the sermon of Anthony Radivilovsky (1688): “How many Christians eat among us among us, who in their houses and comors, instead of the image of Christ, paint the image of Bacchus, instead of the image of the Most Pure Virgin Mary the Mother of God, the image of the unclean Venus, instead of the images of the holy Apostles and church teachers, fasters, abstinents and reverends, they paint images thinkers with dogs and hawks." (Cf. Markovsky M. Anthony Radivilovsky. Kiev, 1894. P. 81.) Without a doubt, it is based on the same Polish source. II. P. 480. Literally the same in the Chronicle (IV. Div. 2. P. 109). IV. Dept. 2. P. 156. Cf. in “Chronicles of Greek deities as personifications of passions” (IV. Div. 2. pp. 27–29 and 96). II. P. 608. (Sermon on the 22nd week according to the Holy Spirit in 1708 in Rostov.) Sermon dated November 13, 1708, marked "pop dictum." (Cf. Ternovsky F. Sketches from the history of the Russian hierarchy in the 18th century // Other and New Russia. 1879. No. 8. P. 312.) About the cup of the wrath of God with a quote from Ps. 10:6, see also in the “Chronicle” of St. Demetrius (IV. Dept. 2. P. 60). II. P.72. An excerpt missing from the printed edition of the Cell Chronicler about church estates based on the Moscow manuscript. Theological Academy published in “Readings” (1862. Book 2. pp. 40–44). Wed. II. pp. 551, 570, 645; III. pp. 14, 24, 450–451, 595. III. pp. 19 and 489. Cf. episode from the life of St. Macarius of Egypt. III. P. 328. Wed. Quotes from Chrysostom by St. Demetrius: II. pp. 9, 134, 166, 215, 240, 309, 315,317,350,484–485,497, 534,538,548, 689–690; III. pp. 41–42,95,175–176, 182–183. 189, 193, 231, 234, 243, 245, 277, 281, 318, 340, 342, 409, 410, 413, 508–509, 510, 529, 531, 533, 540–541, 544, 550–551. II. pp. 48, 104, 252–330, 439–440, 587–588, 665–667; III. P. 369. II. P. 166. Favorov in the article “About St. Demetrius, Met. Rostov, as a preacher of the word of God” (“Sunday Reading”. 1850/51. Part XIV. No. 8. P. 80 and No. 10 P. 108) sees great similarities between St. John Chrysostom and St. Demetrius, pointing to “sincerity, simplicity and cordiality.” But in essence, the analysis of similarities is replaced by the panegyric epithet “Chrysostom”. III. P. 413. Cf. that the soul is more precious than all creatures in St. Macarius of Egypt (Spiritual conversations, message and words. Holy Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius, 1904. 15:41) In the future it will be abbreviated as: Macarius of Egypt. Conversations. Wed. quotes from Chrysostom about the cross-weapon (III. p. 234), about the cross-key of heaven (III. p. 245), about the joy of the church (II. p. 689–690). III. P.189 and 277. III. P. 281. II. P. 462. Cf. III. 307, where the allegorical and mental, i.e., the allegorical and mystical, are contrasted. Wed. “Imagining your intelligent eyes,” “Imagining your mental eyes” (III. P. 8 8), “before the intelligent eyes of the property” (III. P. 205), “we see the intelligent eyes” (III. P. 401), “But back to St. We look at Simeon the God-Receiver with our minds” (III. p. 35), “we see with our clever eyes” (III. p. 357) and many more. etc. Samarin Yu. F. Works. T. V. M., 1880. P. 357. Right there. P. 360. The sermon about the man born blind is included in both Stephen of Yavorsky (I. P. 120) and St. Demetrius (II. p. 205 et seq.). Samarin (cit. cit. p. 372) spoke about “insulting religious and artistic feelings”, about “abstraction”, “alienation from reality”, “cold Mipe of abstract speculation”, etc. (p. 374). N. S. Tikhonravov, in his article about Moscow freethinkers of the early 18th century (Russkiy Vestnik. 1870–1871; Soch. M., 1898. T. II) painted Stefan Yavorsky with the features of an obscurantist inquisitor. For Chistovich (Unpublished sermons of Stefan Yavorsky. St. Petersburg, 1867. P. 5. Rejection from “Christian Readings”) Stefan is the most refined scholastic among our preachers (in the derogatory sense). Letters to A. N. M. [Muravyev]. Kiev, 1869. P. 431. Complete works of Plato (Levshin), Metropolitan of Moscow. Ed. Soikina, 1913. Book I. S. 276–283. In what follows it will be abbreviated as Plato. I. II. pp. 499–501, II. pp. 301–302. Attack (in speech) - introduction, introduction, beginning (V. Dal. Explanatory dictionary of the living Great Russian language. St. Petersburg-M., 1882. T. 3). On pigs, sinners and demons cf. II. pp. 369–370 Macarius of Egypt. Conversations 17, 15. Wed. Word 1. Ch. 1. Macarius of Egypt. Conversations 27, 6 II. pp. 260–261; III. pp. 625–626. (In connection with the image of the dove from the Song of Songs.) Compare, for example, II. P. 75. Wed. more about the devil birds of the Bryn nest (II. p. 594 et seq.). Markovsky M. Anthony Radivilovsky. Kiev, 1894. P. 63. Matseevich L. Foma Mlodzyanovsky // Proceedings of the Kyiv Theological Academy. 1870. No. 12. P. 512. Wed. II. P. 132; III. P. 587. Wed. similar in form to the address of Ioannikis of Galatovsky: “Now shut your mouth, you infidel heretics!” (“The Key of Understanding.” 1659), or; “Now shut your mouth, you infidel Jew!” (Ibid.). Wed. Markovsky M. Quote. op. P. 70. Chronicle (IV. Div. 2. P. 116). Rhetorical hand. Ed. Society of Lovers of Ancient Writing. St. Petersburg, 1878. P. 80. Asyndeta - pl. number from Greek asyndeton; asyndeton - omission of conjunctions, non-union speech, non-union, construction of speech, mainly poetic, in which conjunctions connecting words are omitted. Macarius of Egypt. Conversations 31.4. The week before Christmas. According to the editors, ed. Barsov from Titov’s collection (“Readings”. 1884. Book 2. P. 14. Cf. V. P. 108–109). II. pp. 491–511. Wed. above is an analysis of this sermon (pp. 25–27). According to, for example, Porfiryev (History of Russian literature. Part I. 2nd edition. Kazan, 1876. P. 661) St. Demetrius used this technique, “realizing that high theological sermons cannot be understood by the majority, especially by uneducated listeners.” Petukhov (Russian literature. Ancient period. 3rd edition. P., 1916. P. 278) writes that “in the last years of his activity the saint often recalled the need to make his sermons closer to the understanding of the masses.” III. pp. 170–171. The word on the fifth Saturday of Great Lent (II. pp. 78–91) seemed similar to the two above, but was actually compositionally excellent. “I’ll finish my word. I remember that not everyone will remember what I said, except someone who is bookish; simple and unbooked people will go away uselessly,” etc. (II. p. 90). Here the appeal to the common people is the conclusion of the sermon, and not a new added part. II. pp. 150–151; III. P. 33; III. P. 530. III. P. 148. Wed. III. P. 425; IV. pp. 403–404. St. Dimitry Rostovsky. Search for the schismatic Bryn faith. 1709. Wed. Shlyapkin I. A. St. Dimitri Rostovsky and his time. St. Petersburg, 1891. P. 450. Acts 23:3. See III. P. 576. Hyacinth (Ts.-Slav.) – hyacinth, yellow yacht. 2 Samuel 14:13. See III. P. 18 III. P. 602. By the way, we present here the same text in the original in order to show how much the language of St. has been changed. Demetrius with later “polishing”. “To lie down where a sharp mortal scythe is on a stone, and at the end of an hour the teeth are smeared on a marmur, they won’t prove anything. When, I say, they persecute such a holy man, whose death is not death, but the beginning of eternal life, ... there the mortal scythe becomes dull and the teeth of all devouring speeches crumble.” Wed. excerpt from the manuscript of the Synodal Library in the work [Nechaev, Barsky and Gorsky] “St. Demetrius, Metropolitan of Rostov.” M., 1849. P. 123. Plutarch in Sept. sap. 2 speaks of σκελετός, i.e. mummies, and in Is. et Os. 17 about Ιιδωλον άνθρόπου τεθνηκότος carried in the ark. Herodotus (J.S. 78) speaks of a wooden sculpture that imitates a corpse in both appearance and coloring. "Readings". 1895. Book. 4. P. 8. III. P. 225. Wed. in a sermon on the cross by Peter Mogila (1632): “If in the old law the signs of victories and miracles... performed with God’s help were in great veneration - signs that were only shadows and prototypes of the new grace that was to appear with the coming of Christ: then all the more now, when we no longer see shadows and prototypes, but the very objects and images, we must show them all possible honor, and especially the cross of Christ, by which it was not this sensual Goliath that was defeated and beheaded, but the mental cruel ruler of hell itself.” (See: Golubev S. Peter (Tomb) and his associates. T. I. 1883. P. 405.) Wed. II. P. 598 = III. P. 178; III. S. 5. Oxymoron (Greek: witty-stupid) is a stylistic turn consisting in an emphasized combination of opposites. Dubitations (lat.) – doubts. On All Saints' Week (1701). II. pp. 311–312. Wed. in the text “unless you become like children” (Matthew 183): “But, O Lord, what is this teaching of yours, which made you a disciple from men who were perfect in childhood? Peter is already old, and so is Andrew, and the other apostles are not young,” etc. (III. p. 152) III. P. 190 = III. 459 = IV. Dept. 2. P. 199. III. P. 391. Cf. in the Chronicle (IV. Div. 2. P. 160). Stefan Yavorsky has a similar thing (Victorial words. Tr. K.D.A. 1874. No. 6. P. 111–112): “The zealous and seeker of truth, philosophy teaches that every nasty thing is most obvious in the presence of a nasty thing.” Wed. on the reconciliation of the discordant aspects of the Spirit - II. pp. 297–299. “In this year, the Church is holy, the twenty-third week after the descent of the Holy Spirit, having the Gospel about the demonic legion, with the council of St. The Archangel Michael and other disembodied forces together happen in one day” (III. p. 580). Wed. also III. P. 196; III. P. 440, etc. Thus Song 1:7 (II. p. 85); 1:8 (= 2:13) (III. P. 157 and P. 163); 4:4 (III. P. 163:298); 4:5 (III. p. 299); 4:7 (III. p. 299); 6:3 (III. p. 167); 7:4 (III. p. 298); 8:10 (III. P. 291:297). Wed. especially the entire sermon on the text 8:10 (I am a wall and my breast is like a pillar) – III. pp. 291–310. Song 1:5 in III. P. 53 or 2:10 in II. pp. 260, 77 in II. P. 508. III. S. 397, 629, for example. Macarius of Egypt. Conversations 12, 15. Wed. Conversations 37, 8. Exactly the same thing, for example, with Rev. Macarius of Egypt: the heart is a coffin in which both thoughts and mind are buried, enveloped in heavy darkness. And the Lord, “having rolled away the heavy stone lying on the soul, opens the coffin, resurrects a truly dead soul, frees one imprisoned in a prison devoid of all light” (Homily 7. Chapter 1). II. P. 505. Wed. II. P. 256. II. P. 126. In Thomas Mlodzianowski, who inspired St. Demetrius, we read about the sinners of hell: “These are no longer bodies, but damned burnt corpses: hair covers the entire head, like small sparks, the head itself is no longer a head, but a burnt brand; these wide eyes are crying, flames are flying out of their throats; the whole body turned into a burning bush; your shameless neck is covered with hot coals... your hands, with which you insulted the Lord your God, and these five fingers, and the other five fingers, will become burning candles, from which your blood mixed with flame will drip” (Matseevich L. Foma Mlodzyanovsky // Proceedings of the Kyiv Theological Academy. 1870. No. 7. P. 221). Wed. a story about demons' disgust for fornication and the exclamation of St. Demetrius “O uncleanness of the flesh, lustful, stingy, worse than a dog, the foulest of worms, and the most unclean of all uncleanness!” (III. p. 209) with the exclamation of Foma Mlodzyanovsky: “O muck, more disgusting than a dog eaten by worms, more than all human vomiting and eruptions, more than all rotten corpses! Oh, the disgusting thing that the devil himself abhors!” (Matseevich L. Cited works. P. 226). Eding B. von. Rostov Veliky–Uglich. M., [1913]. P. 36. I. P. 510. (Letter to “Elder Vilensky” dated December 28, 1707) [He is an honor to our church, a rare mind, a glorious genius. Stronger than Augustine and equal to Chrysostom, He knows how to resurrect Aaron's tone And elevate the heart of the mind with broadcasting. Translation by A. I. Lyubzhin. ] A.[archimandrite] L.[eonid] Bethany cells of Metropolitan Plato and their decoration // “Readings”. 1879. Book. 4. P. 9. Currently, the furnishings of the cell have been transferred to the metropolitan chambers in the Lavra. Shevyrev S.P. Trinity Lavra // Moskvitian. 1847 IV. P. 78. Also in his book “A Trip to the Kirillo-Belozersky Monastery in 1847” M., 1850. Complete works of Plato, Metropolitan of Moscow. M.: Publishing house Π. P. Soikina. 1913. Book. I. P. 131. In the future it will be abbreviated as I or II. Plato, Metropolitan of Moscow. A collection of instructive words. T. I. St. Petersburg, 1755. P. 272. [Here are the shepherds grazing their flocks of fat sheep; Lying in the soft grass, playing a pipe to please your ears God Pan, who cares about keeping cattle In the dark groves of the Arcadian mountains. Translation by F. A. Petrovsky. ] Q. Horati Flacci. Od. IV. P. 12. [Quintus Horace Flaccus. Complete set of works. Academia. Moscow-Leningrad, 1936. P. 163.] I. P. 115. Cf. Plato, Metropolitan of Moscow. Complete set of works. X. P. 165: “There was a certain kind of mad philosophers called Epicurus.” Next: P.S. indicating the volume number (Roman numeral). Znamensky P. Readings from the history of the Russian church during the reign of Catherine II // “Orthodox Interlocutor”. 1875, February. P. 106. 1. P. 419. This is almost literally Chrysostom: “As if someone, having climbed a high rock, looked at the sea and those sailing on it..., so one who fights for Christ, having removed himself from the storms and waves of life, sits in a safe and high place” (To Theodore the Fallen II. 5. Trans. St. Petersburg, D. A. Works of our Holy Father John Chrysostom, Archbishop of Constantinople, in Russian translation. T. I. Book 1. St. Petersburg, 1898. P. 42). And from him: “And even though a storm arose, they alone sit in the pier in great peace and security, as if looking from heaven at other shipwrecks” (To those who are hostile to monastic life. III. Chapter 11. Ibid. P. 99). Words and speeches of the synodal member Filaret, Metropolitan of Moscow. Second edition, expanded. M., 1848. Part I. P. 62. Snegirev I. The Life of Moscow Metropolitan Plato. Part II. 2nd ed. M., 1856. P. 36. Next: Snegirev I. The Life of Plato. “Un des plus beaux monuments qui soient dans le monde” (Letter to Catherine II dated May 15, 1771 (Euvres complètes. R: 1785. T. 8 8. R. 195). I. P. 83. Wed. a similar listing of historical examples (I. S. 538–539). I. P. 287. Cf. “sweet fruits of virtue” (I. P. 392). I. P. 375. Cf. “the sweetest fruits” (I. S. 215:271); “sweet fruits” (I. P. 353). I. pp. 130–134. Here is about the book of visible Mipa. Wed. about creatures as a mirror (I. P. 549). I. P. 264. Cf. also I. S. 551–555. About Mipe as a church (P.S. XVII. pp. 133–134). Wed. about this in the article by I. Korsunsky “Filaret, Metropolitan of Moscow, in his catechisms” (Collection of the Society of Lovers of Spiritual Enlightenment, published on the occasion of the celebration of the 100th anniversary of the birth of Philaret. T. II. M., 1883. P. 674 et seq., especially 676). Collection of opinions and reviews of Filaret. St. Petersburg, T. I. 1885. P. 124. Cf. in the memoirs of Bishop Nikodim, Filaret’s review of the author’s sermon: “He did not praise my natural evidence of the immortality of the soul” (in a church sermon this is almost unnecessary). "Readings". 1877. Book. 2. P. 58. Wed. for example, in Innocent’s “Introductory Address to Discussions on Nature” (Occupations, Vol. VIII. St. Petersburg, 1874, pp. 157–159). Snegirev I. The Life of Plato. Part I. P. 52. P.S. XII. P. 131. On the “school of Jesus” also see P. S. XV. P. 743, about the “school of Christ” - I. P. 641. Cf. from Gideon Krinovsky: “The listeners do not reason that they did not come to Demosthenes or Cicero’s school, but to Christ’s” (Collection of various instructive words... spoken by Archimandrite Gideon. T. IV. St. Petersburg, 1759. P. 81). Snegirev I. The Life of Plato. Part I. P. 55. Sermons by G. Buzhinsky, ed. E. Petukhov // Uch. Zap. Yuryevsk. Univ. 1901. No. 7. P. 639. Eg. I. S. 425; P.S. IV. P. 143; V. S. 106; XIII. P. 127. His own expression. Wed. I. S. 634 and S. 647. I. P. 162. Cf. version in the sermon of 1790 (P.S. XV. pp. 603–604:606). Works of Innocent, Archbishop of Kherson and Tauride. St. Petersburg, M„ 1901. T.VII. P. 145. I. P. 377. Cf. 1. P. 527. I. P. 655. Cf. P.S. XIII. pp. 287–295: a sermon on the relationship between external worship and internal worship, based on the analogy of soul and body and basing the need for external worship on the need for external expression of the internal inherent in human nature. I. P. 552. Similar in the sermon of 1793 about a man of the pagan era, who considered the sky “some empty space consisting of unknown elements”: “Only, like a dumb animal, he was committed to the earth, and died along with the cattle; for after death he did not expect to have any other life” (P.S. XVI. p. 279). In a sermon of 1785, entirely devoted to light, Plato defines the light of reason as “light in the image of God,” and grace as “the radiance of the light of God, which applies to us” (P.S. XII. pp. 263–264). I. P. 368. Cf. about “a fire lit in the interior of the soul” (I. P. 155). I. P. 168. About the “uncreated light of the eternal mind, of which the rational creature received a certain spark,” see I. P. 205. See about the “spark of conscience” (I. P. 119), about the extinguishing of the inner feeling of conscience (I. P. 200). Despite the distinction between luminis rationis and luminis gratiae (see note 167), their relationship in Plato is not entirely clear and it is unlikely that Plato thought through this issue comprehensively. On the one hand, the images of sparks, fire, light kindled in us by the ever-present light seem to indicate that the light of reason is only an analogue of the light of the divine. On the other hand, “all truth... is the radiance of the ever-present light” (I. P. 177), this makes us assume that all truths are directly contemplated in the light of divine Truth. In most texts, however, knowledge in the light of God himself refers only to grace-filled truths: pure reason, governed not by feelings, but by a ray of uncreated light, enters the invisible (I. P. 205) and the Father of lights enlightens our lamp enveloped in darkness (I. P. 208). If the natural spark of conscience is from God, although not God (I. P. 119), then the grace-filled light kindled in spiritual birth is “part of the ever-present light” (I. P. 474). Letters from Filaret to various persons. Tver, 1888. P. 105. II. P. 640. Wed. also about the apostles, “who erected an altar from themselves and kindled on it a sacrifice of the purest prayers, the incense and flame of which reached to heaven” (P.S. XVII. p. 20). I. P. 193. Cf. about the entrance of God into the gates of the senses (I. P. 527). I. P. 191. Cf. about the “flourishing beauty” (I. P. 400) and the “reddest color” (I. P. 405) of virtue. I. P. 413. Cf. more about flowering (I. 192, 359, etc.). Wed. I. S. 6 8, 135, 138. Ep. Nicodemus. About Filaret, Metropolitan of Moscow, my memory // “Readings”. 1877. Book 2. P. 78. An anaphora similar in construction (“We have risen...”). P.S. XIII. P. 75. Sumarokov A.P. On Russian spiritual eloquence // Complete Works. 4.VI. M., 1781. P. 301. “Cette fermete imposante et progressive qui donne à l’eloquence de Bourdaloue l’impénétrable solidite et l’impulsion irresistible d’une colonne guerrière qui s’avance à pas lents, mais dont l’ordre et le poids annoncent qui devant elle tout va ployer,” wrote Bourdaloue Marmontel. ["This powerful and affirming determination gives the eloquence of Bourdal the unshakable solidity and indomitable offensiveness of a battle column moving slowly but surely, so that, thanks to its order and strength, everything in its path will be swept away."] Plato’s predecessor and mentor Gideon Krinovsky also has them. Wed. A collection of instructive words from the latter. T. I (1755). pp. 4–10, 30; T. II (1756). P. 253 (an interesting example of combining enumeration with affected exclamations), etc. I. S. 77–82. Plato did not shy away from the antithetical structure of his sermons even later, as evidenced by his sermon on St. Alexy 1781 On temporal and spiritual celebrations (P.S. X. P. 50–58) and a sermon for the 1st week of Lent in 1794 about the believer and the unbeliever (P.S. XVII. P. 1–7). Such, for example, are the antitheses of the Mosaic and Christ law (P.S. X. P. 117; P.S. XIII. P. 96.) or this life and the future life (P.S. X. P. 246–247). I. C, 188. Cf. I. P. 81 about unbelief, heresy and superstition. Such are the same anaphoric and epiphoric constructions like I. S. 359; P.S. XIII. P. 75; or epiphora P.S. XIV. P.371. I. P. 486. Cf. also I. S. 626 and I. S. 446, where the answer is even given directly point by point - A, B, C. I. P. 305. Cf. appeals to “peoples of the same faith” (I. P. 352), to the Athenians (I. P. 559), etc. I. P. 565 Cf. appeals to the Apostle Paul when explaining his messages. “Where do you, great hero of Christianity, come from so much courage?” (I. P. 257). “Cry out, Paul” (I. S. 594). P.S. XVII. P.249 and P.376. P.S. XVI. P.314. Wed. I. P.300. I. P. 588. Cf. appeal to Mount Tabor (P.S. XIX. P. 82). I. P. 615. It is not superfluous to recall here the inscription on the Bethany monument near Plato’s cells: “1799, April 24. Why, Bethany, glorified this year and day? As the sovereign great sovereign, Emperor Paul I and with the Empress and all the august family, deign to visit me and taste a meal here. - Why are you, desert, so jubilant? That same year, May 1st, HE, the great sovereign, transformed me into a second-class monastery and also arranged for me to have a school of education.” This interrogative form, these personifications could not be more characteristic of Plato. Apostle Paul. Epistle to the Galatians. 4:6. I. P. 549. Cf. I. P. 333 about “as if some transfusion from the abyss of perfections onto us and onto all creatures.” Gideon Krinovsky. A collection of instructive words. T. II. St. Petersburg 1756. P. 202. Wed. heaps of epithets in exordia: “The voice of words, the lamp of light, the day of the sun, the beauty of the desert, the seal of the prophets, the friend of the heavenly bridegroom, the Forerunner and Baptist of the Savior Mipa, today died his course...” (Gideon. Collection of instructive words. T. III. St. Petersburg, 1758. P. 259). Asyndeta in Plato: “I endured cold, hunger, thirst, nakedness, contempt, reproach, annoyance” (P.S. XIV. p.437). “And imagine yourself in an immaculate, holy, divine, heavenly, wonderful form” (P.S. XX. P. 174). Wed. about ten virgins. I. P. 79. “In Plato’s style one can see a wise middle ground between the high and the simple, between the Slavic and Russian languages; he moved away from the variegated Slavic-Little Russian syllable of his predecessors, but in the structure of his speech the influence of the Latin language is still noticeable” (Snegirev I. The Life of Plato. Part II, p. 97). “The thinker is always abundant, but not always deep; he harms the purity and correctness of Russian speech with the Latin order of words” (Filaret of Chernigov. Review of Russian spiritual literature. 3rd ed. St. Petersburg, 1884. Ch.N. P. 404). “Useful and important matter” (I. P. 196. Cf. I. P. 493); “pleasant matter” (I. P. 304); “the most extensive matter” (I. P. 380). “The whole society of God’s elect constitutes one corps or one body” (I. S. 684). “General Conclusion” (I. P. 286); “particular causes” (I. P. 141); “private and public buildings” (I. S. 672), as well as the translation of the Latin subtilis with the word “tender”: “an important and tender point” (I. S. 693); “lofty and tender dogmas” (I. S. 504); “gentle and necessary analysis” (I. P. 348). P.S. XI. pp. 321–322. Wed. about “microcosm” P.S. XII. P.94. I. S. 220; 322, 336, 358, 414, 496. I. C.568. Cp. I. C. 119; P.S. XVI. P.299. II. P. 622. Plato’s imitator and disciple Ambrose Podobedov (Collected Speeches. M., 1825) later (in 1798) also “threw himself to the feet of the monarch: “As well as myself, I bow down to Your feet and place all the flock entrusted to me before the most sacred feet of Your Imperial Majesty.” I. P. 478. Cf. the same in Moscow in 1782 (P.S. XI. P. 38). It cannot be said that all of Plato’s compliments were successful. Let’s try to realistically imagine Catherine’s purple, always drenched in “the sweat of the vigilant providence for all of us” (I. P. 110). Words and speeches of the synodal member Filaret, Metropolitan of Moscow. M. 1848. IV, 54 =11. P. 336. Metropolitan Filaret. Decree. op. I. P. 165. Letters to Archimandrite Anthony. Part III. M., 1883. pp. 62–63. I. P. 76. The same story is from Gideon Krinovsky (Collection of instructive words. TLI. St. Petersburg, 1758. P. 213–214). I. S. 85; I. P. 185. Cf. from Gideon Krinovsky about Tantalus (Collection of instructive words. T.N. St. Petersburg, 1756. P. 48 and 113). Next: The meeting will teach, words. The meeting will teach, words. T. III. St. Petersburg, 1758. P. 155. Right there. T. II. pp. 48 and 183. Right there. T. I. SPb., 1755. P. 7. Plato also has the same anecdote about a young man leaving a “shameful house” (P. S. XI. pp. 155–156). For the abundance of examples and stories from Greek and Roman history and mythology in Gideon, see: Porfiryev. History of Russian literature. Ed. 2nd revision Part II Dept. 1. pp. 321–322. [Galen or gallon] – [English measure of liquids]. Word on the day of the Kazan Mother of God. (1742). The meeting will teach, words. T. IV. St. Petersburg, 1759. P. 9. For extracts from Plato’s sermons exposing contemporary shortcomings of society, see N. Rozanov (History of the Moscow Diocesan Administration. Part III. Notes, pp. 167–170. Readings in the Moscow Island of Love. Spirit. Prove. 1870. Book 12). For the most part, this is an affective and rhetorical denunciation of immorality. Wed. A. Titov. Chronicle of Rostov bishops. 1890. Note. 61. Filaret I. S. 80–82 [ = I. S. 17–22] Cf. Ponomarev S. Most Reverend Filaret, Metropolitan of Moscow // Proceedings of the Kazan Theological Academy. 1867. No. 12. P. 530; Smirnov A. The Petersburg period of the life of Metropolitan Philaret. M., 1900. P. 50–51. Sushkov N. Notes on the life and times of St. Philaret, Metropolitan of Moscow. M., 1868. P. 107. Snegirev I. The Life of Moscow Metropolitan Plato. Part I. P. 113. So, for example, he proposed in the new edition of Plato’s “History” to discard the epithet “unclean” attached to the Pope’s shoes: “To confirm the Greek Church and ours to his unclean shoes” (Cf. Collection of opinions and reviews of Metropolitan Philaret. Vol. II. St. Petersburg, 1885. pp. 87–91). This epithet is really not in the 1823 edition (M. T. I. P. 289). I. P. 97–101. Wed. more about the keys of the Apostle Peter and the keys of the monarch who opens the church of beatitude to her subjects. I. pp. 276–277. The meeting will teach, words. Part IV. P. 108. Publisher Z-e. M., 1825. “The Empress did not really favor clergy from the Little Russians. The government did not like their direction even under Peter the Great, and then it was already recognized as being closely in solidarity with the “page spirit”” (Znamensky P. Readings from the history of the Russian church during the reign of Catherine II // “Orthodox Interlocutor”. 1875, February. P. 101). The meeting will teach, words. Part III. Ed. 3rd. M., 1825. P. 150. Letter dated September 15/26, 1773 (CEuvres completes de Voltaire. Paris, 1785. T.8 8. P.338). Letter dated December 27, 1773/January 7, 1774 (Ibid. p. 346.) F. Brunetiere. L'eloquence de Massillon. Etudes critiques sur l'histoire de la litterature francaise. 2nd series. 6-me ed. Paris, 1904. P. 99. A short guide to the Russian oratorio, composed at the Lavra Seminary for the benefit of youth and eloquence students. M., 1778. P. 32 Such lifetime imitators of Plato, the “second Platos,” include, for example, Ambrose Podobedov. The technique of contrasts, favorite among early Plato, was repeated by the latter in 1785 (Sermon on those who walk in the flesh and those who walk in the Spirit. Collection of instructive words. 3rd ed. M., 1825. Part I, pp. 26–35). Wed. also sermons about the proud and the humble (Ambrose. Part II. pp. 248–258), about enlightenment and ignorance (Part III. pp. 171–179). Ambrose has the same contrasts of the worldly sea, raised by “adversity in a storm” and a quiet refuge (Part IV. P. 102), the same episodes from ancient history (for example, about Darius and Charidemus. Part I. P. 115–116), the same reasoning about virtue: “virtue alone is the founder of our well-being” (Part IV. P. 8). The same, finally, appeals to God and the saints after the formulation of the topic: “You, who enlightened the disciples and apostles with Your light, O Christ Jesus” - in the sermon on enlightenment (Part III. p. 171) or “You, the Most Blessed Virgin and Mother of our God, whom we glorify, show us by Your own example true human blessedness” - in the sermon on blessedness (Part III. P. 95). Like Plato, there is an exemplification of the general provisions of the sermon on the monarch (Part IV. p. 150). Let us note that all of these sermons of Ambrose were delivered in the 70s and 80s, that is, they duplicated and did not continue Plato. Plato's sermons were later studied as models in rhetoric classes. Koshansky extols his speech at Alexander’s coronation in his rhetoric. This same speech is analyzed, or rather, praised in the footsteps of his elders by Pozdeev, a student of the St. Petersburg Higher School (Domestic Notes. 1825, XXI. Book 57, pp. 111–124). The beginning of it is analyzed in detail by I. Lamansky (Bulletin of Europe. 1812 LXIV. pp. 279–288). Filaret. I. P. 117. Cf. also Letters from Filaret to his relatives. M., 1882. P. 73.75. Snegirev I. The Life of Plato. Part II. P. 55. Snegirev I. Fire of Moscow // Russian Archive. 1912. No. 5. P. 134. Wed. Moscow] Vedomosti]. 1867, no. 257. Filaret was born on December 26, 1782 Words and speeches of the synodal member Filaret, Metropolitan of Moscow. Ed. 2nd, supplemented. M., 1848. Part II. In the future, references to the second edition will be given in square brackets, preceded by the volume number in Roman numerals, and in Arabic – the page of the first edition of the works of Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow “Words and Speeches”. II, 31 [=II, 211]. IV, 546–550 [ = III, 135–137]. Collection of opinions and reviews. T. IV. M., 1886. P. 344. Zagoskin M.N. Essays. T. VII. St. Petersburg, 1901. P. 232. III, 51 [= II, 329]. In the department ed. and ed. 1835 - “look at” instead of “greet”. Compare, for example, his opposition of “Filaret’s” Orthodoxy to “Khomyakov’s” in his letters to Vl. Solovyov (Collected works. T. 6. M., 1912. P. 330). “Where can we escape from the shaking earth?” (I, 89 [= I, 30]); “the earth that turns us around with itself” (I, 15 [= I, 99]); “The wavering image of this Mipa” (V, 264 [= III, 279]). II, 64–70 [=I, 157–160]. Letters to A. N. M[uraviev]. Kiev, 1869. P. 264. Collection of opinions and reviews. T. I. St. Petersburg, 1885. P. 408. Ironic reviews of the priest. Leonid, who taught in St. Petersburg. Spirit. For Academy aesthetics according to Butervek, see “Letters to Relatives” (M., 1882, pp. 137–138). Archim. Grigory. A collection for lovers of spiritual reading. M., 1889. P. 21. Also in “Russian Monuments” by Martynov (T. IV. M., 1883). Russian Antiquity. 1875. No. 10. P. 397. Collection of opinions and reviews. T. IV. M., 1886. pp. 315–316. Collection of opinions and reviews. T. III. St. Petersburg, 1885. P. 41. Collection of opinions and reviews. T.I. SPb., 1885. P. 389. Collection of opinions and reviews. T. I. St. Petersburg, 1885. P. 60. Russian Archive. 1885. Book. 1. P. 139. Ivanovsky A. I. M. Snegirev and the diary of his memories. St. Petersburg, 1871. P. 43. IV, 460 [ = II, 349]. Wed. similar in the sermon on the Father's font during the consecration of the church in the Catherine Hospital. III, 251 [=I, 32]. Wed. V, 65 [= III, 89]: “Is it really possible, they will say, that nothing more is needed? Should I give up all science? Is it really possible to close all the abodes of higher knowledge?” etc. V, 66–71 [ = III, 15–17]. Wed. Plato's typical antithetical sermon on pride and humility (1764), or the sermon of St. Demetrius about “Pharisean-like” people, whom the preacher likens to dog flies, vipers, the seven-headed serpent and the Antichrist. Rozanov V.V. Near the church walls. St. Petersburg, 1906. T. II. P. 29. St. Apostle Paul. First Timothy, 6–16. V, 257 [= III, 6]. Wed. IV, 109 [=I, 58]. Platon (Levshin) Metropolitan of Moscow. Complete set of works. SPb., [b. G.]. T. I, 587. The source is not indicated in the manuscript. IV, 361 [=II, 296]. IV, 205 [=I, 73]. Option: “the same thing is repeated that on Golgotha ​​terrified all creation, and shook the earth, and crushed the stones, and the eye of the sun brought mortal darkness onto the animal.” IV, 205 [=II, 73]. Option: “the same thing is repeated that on Golgotha ​​terrified all creation, and shook the earth, and crushed the stones, and the eye of the sun brought mortal darkness onto the animal.” III, 153–154 [=II, 119]. Leontiev K. Byzantium and Slavism (1875) // Collection. op. T. V. M., 1912. pp. 197–198. Wed. “from our choices to yours” (III, 316 [= I, 226]), “a mental representation or, in your opinion, the idea of ​​God” (V, 296 [= III, 333]). See I, 117–121 and 121–127. IV, 476 [= III, 319]. Wed. “a ray of strict truth, like an arrow piercing our insides” (II, 225 [= I, 274]). Wed. sermon on the judgment of the saints (II, 219–226 [= I, 271–275]). Letters to A. N. M... Kiev, 1869. P. 477. Letters to Anthony. Part II, letter 680. IV, 199 [=II, 71]. An earlier version in another sermon is II, 347. Letters to Archimandrite Anthony. Part IV. M., 1884. P. 524. Cf. also in sermons III, 121 [=I, 90] and I, 55 [=II, 201]. Plato. Instructive Words. XV, 861. Cf. P.S. XVI, 114: “O sweetest voice! O most gracious call! Who will not follow the trail of this voice? Who wouldn’t want to be happy with this peace of God? Who wouldn't shout for joy? Who will give me a krill like a dove and I will fly and rest?” II, 117 [ = II, 217]. Wed. II, 390: “the habit of being busy with everyday things and caring about everyday things, like lead, weighed down the wing of the mind, and did not allow one to ascend to spiritual understanding.” III, 107 [=II, 299]. Wed. about wings also V, 402 [ = III, 63] and III, 296 [ = II, 159]. Zaozersky N. in Sat. O-va Loves. Spirit. Proev., ed. on the occasion of the 100th anniversary of the birth of Filaret. T. II. M., 1883. P. 58. Babylon is one of Filaret’s favorite expressions. Wed. V, 40 [= III, 240]: “The new Babylonian pandemonium, despite the confusion of thoughts, worse than the ancient confusion of languages, it seems, does not yet think to lag behind their pandemonium.” When in 1867 Philaret was asked about the possibility of sending antiquities from the monastery and church sacristies to the Paris Exhibition, he replied that “Orthodox pious feelings would be offended by this transfer of the vessels of the Jerusalem Temple to Babylon” (Russian Arch. 1885. Book 2. P. 292). In a letter to Anthony, Filaret wrote: “The venerable professor Shevyrev did not hesitate to compare the explosion of Sevastopol with the earthquake during the suffering of Christ. What a mixture! And if you use the Hebrew word, then you will have to say: what a Babylon, not only in the West, but also here” (Letters to Anthony. T. III. M., 1883. P. 392). That the times of theocracy have not passed, see the very expressive formulation in the sermon of 1849 (V, 19 [= III, 236]). Ep. Nicodemus. About Filaret, Metropolitan. Moscow, my memory // “Readings”. 1877. Book 2. S. 2. Letters to Anthony. T. I. M., 1877. P. 315. Russian Archive. 1889. T. II. P. 464. Compare, for example, Plato. I, 26, where in one phrase “Your Imperial Majesty” and “you” coexist with the Slavic “thea”. Wed. V.V. Rozanov has brilliant pages about this (Near the Church Walls. T.I. St. Petersburg, 1906. P. 45 et seq.). Collection of opinions and reviews. Part III. St. Petersburg, 1885. P. 271. Right there. T. IV. M„ 1886. pp. 332–334. It is interesting and instructive to compare the instructions of the Moscow saint regarding the reception of certain persons in the Lavra (In letters to Anthony), or indications of stylistic and tactical mistakes in sermons and other literary works of less sensitive and subtle authors (Letters to Bishop Alexy. M., 1883. pp. 251–252. Letters to A. Muravyov passim). Wed. Barsukov N.P. Life and works of Pogodin T. XVIII. P. 159; Sushkov N. Notes, etc. P. 130. Archimandrite Gregory. A collection for lovers of spiritual reading. M., 1889. P. 16. Rozanov V.V. Near the church walls. T. I. St. Petersburg, 1906. pp. 48–49. Letters to the archimandrite. Anthony. Part II. M., 1878. P. 122. Right there. Part I. M., 1877. P. 33. “Quod si eloquehtiae tironum res ageretur ad Burgium eos aut Lejajum remitterem” (Collected opinions and reviews. T. I. St. Petersburg, 1885. P. 6). From the experience. Part I. M., 1886. P. 260. Ep. Nicodemus. About Filaret, Metropolitan. Moscow my memory // “Readings”. 1877. Book 2. P.54. Arr. to Creation Holy Fathers. I quote from the “Collection of thoughts and sayings of Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow, extracted from his correspondence with various persons” (M., 1897, p. 54). Collection of opinions and reviews. T.V. Ch. 1st. M., 1887. pp. 182–187. Letters to A.N. Muravyov]. Kyiv, 1869. P. 594. Cf. Barsukov N.P. Life and works of Pogodin. T. XVIII. pp. 283–284. Letters to Archimandrite Anthony. Part I. M., 1877. pp. 199–200. Priest A. Belorukov. An internal turning point in the life of A. M. Bukharev // “Theological Bulletin”. 1915. October-December. pp. 842–846. "Readings". 1877. Book. 2. P. 60. II, 101 [= I, 257]. Sermon May 20, 1822 II, 321. Sermon June 8, 1824 II, 288. Sermon November 8, 1823. Wed. “Feelings and imagination, occupied with sensory images, constitute only the lowest region of the human being” (IV, 255 [= II, 151]). Moscow Gazette. 1867. No. 255. Letter 30 to Philaret of Chernigov. Arr. to TV Holy Fathers. 1883. Archimandrite Gregory. A collection for lovers of spiritual reading. M., 1889. P. 17. (Originally in Martynov’s “Russian Monuments”. T. IV. M., 1883.) Cf. also an interesting criticism of Nef’s “Last Supper” from the point of view of its unnaturalness (Collected opinions and reviews. T. IV. M., 1886. pp. 372–373). About the same Smirnov M.P. From memories // Historical. Herald. 1885. No. 9. pp. 578–579. Collection of opinions and reviews. T. IV. M., 1886. P. 380. Collection of opinions and reviews. T. IV. M., 1886. P. 107. Also “Readings”. 1880. No. 2. P. 24. A parallel to this remark of the saint in the sermon: “the day of eternal life in the heavenly Jerusalem, where the lamp is the Lamb, where the sun is not needed, where there is no night” (III, 139 [= I, 292]). Collection of opinions and reviews. T. V. Part 1. M., 1887. P. 185. V, 454 [= III, 306]. At the height of the accusatory trend of Russian literature under Filaret, they talked about the cleansing effect of satire. “Wonderful!” he remarked. “For the first time I hear that someone can be washed with slop” (Russian Arch. 1885. Book 1. P. 69, note). Sushkov N. Notes on the life and times of Filaret. M., 1868. Appendix. P. 56. Wed. Barsukov N.P. Life and works of Pogodin. T.XXI. P. 201. Letters to the archimandrite. Anthony. Part I. M., 1877. P. 279. Letters to the archimandrite. Anthony. Part IV. P. 322. Russian preaching. Its historical overview and a look at its modern direction. St. Petersburg, 1871. Letters to A. N. M... Kyiv, 1869. P. 180. An exception to the use of proper names is the word on the conclusion of peace with the Ottoman Porte in 1830. But even here, in the printed edition, some proper names were dropped, as well as expressive phrases such as, for example, “raise Constantinople by humiliating Istanbul” (III, 132 [= II, 233]). Letters to Archimandrite Anthony. Part IV. M., 1884. P. 391. V, 47 [ = III, 143]; V, 141 [–III, 150]. IV, 206 [=II, 73]. Var.: “the unclean noise of idle talk seems to fight with the pure sounds of sacred reading or singing.” Report Imp. Publ. Books for 1888. Appendix. pp. 7–8. It is interesting that Philaret himself replaced the word “someone” in the Evreinovsky handwritten collection of his sermons with “someone” (III, 221 [= II, 11]). Comments on the Russian translation of the New Testament (in the article by I. Korsunsky in the Collection of the Society of Lovers of Spiritual Enlightenment on the occasion of the celebration of the 100th anniversary of the birth of Philaret. T. II. M., 1883. P. 631). Letters to Archimandrite Anthony. Part III. M., 1883. P. 309. Korsunsky I. Op. cit. P. 620. Letters to A. N. M... Kiev, 1869. P. 188. Korsunsky I. Op. cit. P. 617. V, 473 [= III, 309]. In “The Wreath on the Grave of Filaret” (M., 1868, p. 151) some of Filaret’s neologisms are indicated: goodness, self-ruler, self-rule, prescribe, inaccurate, right-handed, commit, etc. II, 155–156 [=I, 164–165]. Wed. II, 49 [= I, 221]: “Woe to us, the Word of God! What You call Yourself, what You are, what You have exalted man, what wisdom is, what life is given - the word, the sacred, divine word, we have made a spectacular game! III, 436. In the “Proclamation to Christ-loving Readers,” prefaced to the Russian translation of the Four Gospels and written by Philaret, we read: “Everything was created by the Word of God, and everything created is held together by the power of the Word of God. For man, the Word of God is an incorruptible seed, from which he is reborn from natural life into grace-filled life; there is bread with which he lives spiritually, and water with which he quenches his spiritual thirst; there is a lamp shining in a dark place until the dawn comes and the dawn rises in the hearts, and there is the light of day itself, that is, the living and blessed knowledge of God and His miracles in time and eternity. Without the Word of God, man is gloomy, hungry, thirsty and spiritually dead.” (Quoted from: “New Testament” in Slavic and Russian. Dependent on the Russian Bible Society. Second embossing. St. Petersburg, 1822. P. III.) Wed. about the gospel voice of the son of Gromov (V, 370 [= III, 7]), about the “terrible thunder of the Apostolic word” (V, 291 [= III, 169]); also II, 258 [= II, 299], etc. II, 41 [= I, 6]. Wed. also III, 68 [= I, 10]; III, 133 [ = II, 233]; V, 368 [= III, 344]. In a letter to Muravyov (Letters to A. N. M... Kyiv, 1869. P. 61) Filaret wrote about the deep silence of the night, in which there are “sensitive and subtle distant sounds.” II, 148 [= I, 161]. Wed. II, 22 [= I, 298]. Letters to A. N. M... Kiev, 1869. P. 201. Sushkov N. Notes on the life and times of Filaret. M., 1868. P. 282. “Filaret has a humble face. It serves very simply,” Pogodin writes in his diary in 1821 (Barsukov N. P. Life and Works of Pogodin. T. I. P. 128). “How simply, how majestically he speaks!” - he writes a few months later (Ibid. p. 150). “Filaret spoke simply without any floridity, but I think he never spoke so expressively,” writes Zhukovsky in 1837 about his speech to the heir (IV, 53–54 [= II, 335]). “Metropolitan Philaret read the canon of St. Andrew of Crete, writes Bishop. Nicodemus (“Readings”. 1877. Book 2. p. 61) - humbly before the royal doors, like a deserted monk. He read clearly, but without expression, monotonously, as a simple unlearned hieromonk would read.” Massillon n’oublie jamais qu’il preche pour l’édification des duchesses (F. Brunetière. L’éloquence de Massillon. Etudes critiques sur l’histoire de la littérature française. 2nd série. 6th ed. P. 1904. P. 78). [Massillon never forgets that he preaches for the edification of the duchesses]. III, 306–307 [=II, 39]. Smirnov S. History of the Moscow Theological Academy before its transformation. M„ 1879. P. 192. I, 103 [= I, 69]. Wed. about the power of speech – III, 233 [ = I, 276–277]. I. 23 [= II, 274]. This text is given in a distorted form in the book “Imyaslavie” (St. Petersburg, 1914, p. 136). Generally speaking, it is surprising how the name-glorifiers, in disputes about the nature of the divine Name, ignored a number of very expressive texts. For example: “The name of God is not only a pronounced sound, but the invoked power of God, piercing souls, testing hearts, blessing the faithful and punishing the unfaithful” (IV, 475 [= III, 319]). One could also point out the words of Philaret about “the name of the Lord God, with which David was armed” (V, 18 [= III, 236]) and the likening of the name of Jesus to the fragrant world. “When the name of the Lord Jesus is poured out in prayer, the fragrance of the Holy Spirit spreads from it.” “The power of the name of the Lord Jesus is the same for everyone,” but for people with damaged senses it is likened to the fragrance of the world in a closed vessel. “It takes art, it takes effort to purify the feeling, to open the vessel of the divine world” (IV, 264 [= I, 286]). The collection “The Orthodox Church on the Veneration of the Name of God and the Jesus Prayer” (St. Petersburg, 1914, pp. 110–111) contains only less expressive texts (III, 15 [= I, 171] and II, 179 [= I, 14]). The first text is also discussed in the book by Anthony Bulatovich “Justification of faith in the invincible, incomprehensible, divine name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Pg., 1917. pp. 155–156). II, 209 [= I, 82]. A much weaker version in a sermon of 1811 (I, 159): “Plants wither and vegetate; the grain dies to give life to the tree or grain; they put the reptile to sleep - and it awakens, horned; the grossest essences are resolved into the subtlest; light departs and returns; times end and begin; disappearing voices are resurrected in echoes; everything is destroyed in order to be recreated, dies in order to live, perishes in order to be preserved: is it just one person, just a loud name, who makes a momentary sound and will not respond again? Metr. has literally the same idea. Plato (P.S. XV, 748), but the form of expression is completely different. Instead of the high tone of Philaret, there is an idyll of gardening. “You saw the color; they admired him; you saw the fruit; and they were satisfied with it. The grain left is bare, tasteless, and sometimes bitter. However, you take care of it, put it in the depths of the earth, and rejoicing in hope you say: this grain will bring me many flowers and fruits in the spring; and so it happens. So what? Why should you think humiliatingly about your composition? It will decay and will perish irrevocably. Why should it be worse than the grain of flowers and wood?” III, 23–29 [ = I, 77–80]. The etymological reasoning (or allusions) is also not accidental: about the word “upper room” [ = II, 64], “chastity” (II, 114 [ = II, 216]), “holiday” (III, 143 [ = I, 294]), “university” (V, 62 [ = III, 87]) and others, distinguishing words of the same root: faith, confidence, trust, fidelity (the whole sermon is about these words IV, 18–23 [= I, 282–285]). Wed. III, 53 [= I, 317] about looking at the invisible. Also III, 55 [= I, 319]: a person “sees, but does not look, and looks, but does not fix his gaze on what is visible.” Sermon on the consecration of the Church of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary in Stoleshnikov Lane (IV, 214 [= II, 74]). Similar in the sermon on the consecration of the Nativity Church in Tver (1820) - I, 262. IV, 93 [ = II, 185–186] (about sacred anointing). IV, 17 [=II, 47]. Wed. IV, 497 [ = III, 128]: “Respect what is visible in the church, because.” II, 188–195 [=I, 37–40]. IV, 212–225 [ = I I, 74–78]. Wed. also detailed allegories of vision (II, 237 [=II, 310]). III, 39 [= II, 257]. Wed. about the dawn of the days of Christ, which know no evening (II, 336). I, 19 [= I, 16]. Wed. II, 181 [ = I, 22] and IV, 444–445 [ = I, 180]: “As clear and quiet water quietly and purely receives the light of the sun, and responds to it with a reflection,” etc. Wed. II, 370: “As pure water fluctuates and flows from the breath of a quiet wind,” etc. Or: “When the wind, striking the surface of the water, partially lifts it from its place of rest, then the pure water trembles and seems indignant: so the soul of Mary ... trembled with pure fear” at the voice of the angelic greeting (III, 80 [= I, 166]). III, 141 [= I, 293]. A completely unique connection with the era is also revealed by such paintings as, for example, paintings of a hut under a mountain (“And a wandering wanderer will see a small lamp in a hut, and will go to its light, and will find salvation in the hut from a cold night or a beast, and will rest in safety, and will rejoice in the hospitality of strangers” - IV, 277 [ = II, 163]) or a hail on the mountain (II, 217 [ = I. S. 266]). III, 109–114 [=I, 141–144]. IV, 23–29 [=I, 144–147]. III, 337–346 [=I, 147–153]. IV, 235–243 [=I, 153–157]. II, 148–156 [=I, 161–165]. III, 77–83 [=I, 165–168]. IV, 377–384 [=I, 173–177]. But not Tenderness. Wed. archim. Grigory. "Church of St. John the Warrior in Moscow" (Collected for lovers of spiritual reading. M., 1889. pp. 15–16; also in Martynov’s “Russian Remarks.” T. IV. M., 1883): “Tenderness is a Western manner, a characteristic of the Jesuits. This cannot be tolerated and allowed in Orthodoxy.” Let us give, for contrast, a description of the Mother of God in the sermon of St. Demetrius: “The Queen is of all visible and invisible creatures, ruling over the creatures above and below, and all the elements obey her, and heaven and earth, air and sea listen to her, and all the opposing souls, possessed by fear, tremble, fearing her holy name” (St. Demetrius III. p. 117). Barsukov N.P. Life and works of Pogodin. T. XV. P. 154. Maksimovich M.A. Letters about Kyiv. M., 1869. P. 9. Archpriest G. in “The Wreath on the Grave of the Most Reverend Innocent.” M., 1867. Right there. Wed. about books in M. Popov’s memoirs about Innocent (Historical Bulletin. 1897. No. 4. P. 222). Works of Innocent, Archbishop of Kherson and Tauride. SPb., M., 1901. T. V. P. 125. In the following, only the volume and page number are indicated. Archpriest G. in "Wreath". P. 118. In one of Innocent’s sermons we read about the symbolism of vaccination and how “from two deaths comes a new, better life” (XI. 64). About the same wed. in the memoirs of M. Popov (Historical Bulletin. 1894. No. 4. P. 222): “With what enthusiasm he observed the hieromonk-gardener’s method of grafting trees!” Letters about Kyiv. M., 1869. pp. 51–52. Letters about Kyiv. M., 1869. pp. 143–144. Wed. Barsukov N.P. Life and works of Pogodin. T. IV. P. 405. Master I.[oasaph] in "Wreath". P. 109. Complete works of Innocent in 11 volumes. St. Petersburg, 1871–1875. T. VIII. P. 162. V. P. 16. The symbolism of the resurrection was discussed in the “Sunday Reading” and in the “Conversation at the Cemetery in the Spring” (Part III. 1839/40. No. I. S. 108–110). Askochensky (Ya. K. Amphiteatrov. Biographical sketch. Kiev. 1857. P. 151) has an article attributed to Amphiteatrov, which is quite likely, especially if we take into account the dialogical form generally loved by Amphiteatrov (Cf. his articles “Lily”, “Willow”, etc.). V. P. 18. Similar in the 3rd word about spring (Occupation Vol. VIII. St. Petersburg, 1874. P. 178): “Look at any garden: with the new spring everything in it has been renewed, blooms and smells fragrant; and some branches and trees, which during the winter did not retain their inner life and are now bare, dry, dead and disgrace the beautiful appearance of other trees.” Wed. about “nature renewed in spring” (V. S. 285). These words were published in “Sunday Reading” (Part VIII. 1844/45) and Moskvityanin (1844), and then in the collected works of the 70s (Vol. VIII). These words were not included in the collected works of the 1900s. Ps.103:30. Sunday Reading. Part I. 1837/38. No. 7. pp. 57–58. In the anonymous passage “Feelings of a Christian in the Spring” (Ibid. Part II. 1838/39. No. 4. pp. 33–36) we read: “Oh God! Where, besides the Gospel, can I more clearly read Your wisdom and Your omnipotence, as in the book of nature unfolded before me? What time of year is more favorable for understanding this book, as this is the time of the rebirth of life? Isn’t spring the holiday of the resurrection of the earth?” Wed. more about spring - “Spring is a lesson for young men” (Ibid. Part III. 1839/49. No. 10. P. 100–102. Without signatures), “Spring is the image of our resurrection and state after the resurrection” (Ibid. Part XVIII. 1854/55. No. 6. P. 57–59. Article by Ya. Amphiteatrov, without signature), “Spring - the image of Edenic youth - the primordial world and man and the prototype of the future life,” where we are talking about “longing for the lost spring of paradise” and “sadness about the flowers of Eden” (Ibid. Ch. X. 1846/40. No. 13. pp. 136–139. Anonymous article by an unknown author). Muscovite. 1847. Part III. Dept. 1. pp. 3–16 (Word 1); Part IV, Dept. 1. P. I-VI (Word 2). pp. VII-XIV (Word 3). The first word, with the indication “printed from the manuscript,” was placed in Volume VIII of Works (ed. 1874). pp. 187–195. About winter. Word 1st. Muscovite. 1847. Part III, department. 1. P. 7. Sunday Reading. Part II. 1838/39. No. 31. pp. 269–270. No signature. “What does autumn teach?” (Ibid. No. 35. pp. 301–306). III. P. 147. Wed. image of a greenhouse (VII. P. 62). Many articles devoted to the symbolism of the plant kingdom are published in Sunday Reading. This is the dialogue “Lily” by Amfitheatrov (Sunday Reading. Part I 1837/38. No. 29. P. 242), where we talk about thirty-two botanical species of lily and about the delicate red streams running along its white field, about its corolla and about the lilies of the Gospel and the Song of Songs. “The cup of the lily is always turned to the sky in an inclined position, like a person praying. During the day, the lily stretches out its leaves to the sun, like a child stretches out its hands to its mother; morning and evening she looks to where the moon and stars are, and waits for the dew of heaven.” Wed. dialogue “Willow” by the same Amfitheatrov (Ibid. Part VI. 1842/43. No. 51. P. 448–452). Part XIX-Y (1855/56. No. 11. P. 108–110) contains the article “Flowers”. So in the “Notes”: “To know the Father without the Son! Isn’t this similar to how someone tries to understand the sun without its rays, thunder without the sound it makes, the wind without the movement of air? (VI. C/319). We have already noted some of them in the notes (see 14:27). Wed. articles such as “Visible nature as a school of self-knowledge” (Part III. 1839/40. No. 29. pp. 276–280) or “Symbols” (4.IV. 1840/41. No. 32. pp. 287–288, no. 33. p. 298. [Avseneva] - see in “Review” by Filaret (Gumilevsky), 3rd ed. Book 2. P. 471), or, finally, a conversation with the villagers “about the mental presence in the church of God in the midst of field work” (Part X. 1846/47. No. 25. P. 241–244). It is all devoted to analogies between the church and nature, the search for church symbols and hints in nature. A similar word to the villagers on the occasion of the beginning of the harvest was placed in the “Sunday Reading” (Part VI. 1842/43. No. 29. pp. 246–250) with a note that it was received from “one venerable rural shepherd.” Askochensky, in his biography of Y. K. Amphiteatrov (Kiev, 1857), attributes these conversations to the latter without any reason (p. 152). VIII. P. 151; VII. P. 24. Op. T.XI. St. Petersburg, 1877. P. 151. IV. P. 142. Wed. in the same sermon (IV. p. 139) about “things brought into an extraordinary state through the special action of science.” The word about lightning and thunder is essentially the “second word about summer,” which was published in the VIII volume of Works (St. Petersburg, 1874, pp. 182–186). This is the natural philosophical symbolism of a thunderstorm. In “Sunday Reading” (Part III. 1839/40. pp. 198–200) there was also an article by an unknown author “Thunder”, dedicated to the interpretation of thunder as the word and voice of God. IX. P. 118. In the “Sunday Reading”, published with the close participation of Innocent, in 1837/38 there was a note “Counteraction of fasting to the decay of bodies” (Part I. No. 50. P. 440) with references to natural scientific observations of the decomposition of blood. VI. P. 47. In “Sunday Reading” there is an anonymous article “Starry Sky” (Part II. 1838/39. No. 34. P. 294–296). Astronomical reasoning gives way to a picture of the night sky, involuntarily reminiscent of Gogol’s words: “look at this boundless dome, as if resting the dormant earth in its embrace.” In Gogol’s “Sorochinskaya Fair”: “The blue immeasurable ocean, bent over the earth like a voluptuous dome, seems to have fallen asleep, completely drowned in bliss, hugging and squeezing the beautiful one in its airy embrace.” Letters about Kyiv. M., 1869. P. 55. “No! - wrote young Innocent, - is it destined for a person on this earth not to see the truth - one that could calm his mind, then I would always better agree with Schelling to get lost in the infinite, rather than with Kant and others like him to be locked, like a bird, in a cage of categories and other forms" (Letter to A.I. Belyugov dated June 10, 1825 // Kiev Starina. 1882. No. 3. P. 518). "Sunday Reading" 4.1. No. 43. pp. 360–365. Without signature (Reprint in Mayak. 1844. T. XVII. Book 3Z. Section “New Books”. P. 22–28). Contrary to the testimony of Mayak, Askochensky attributes this article to Amfiteatrov. See the biography of the latter, written by Askochensky (Kiev, 1857, p. 151). Right there. P. 364. For this legend, see Innocent in his sermon (V. P. 220). In Avsenev’s article “Teachings of day and night in nature” (Sunday Readings. Part III. 1839/40. No. 21. pp. 207–208. Unsigned) we read: “Night does not plunge into complete insensibility - a deathly sleep. She is sleeping, but her heart, one might say, is vigilant. She secretly learns wisdom - the mind of the day, secretly composes the verbs of the day in her heart; learning, he becomes wise, and communicates the wisdom and understanding of another night.” In “Teachings of the Night in Nature” (Ibid. Part XVII. 1853/54. No. 19. P. 183) we hear about the night - “a deeply mysterious, busy and multi-instructive time.” VI. P. 277. And this is the relationship between Innocent and Avsenev. “His memorable lectures on illnesses, sleep, sleepwalking, and death plunged the whole class into the deepest thought,” says Avsenev’s obituary (JMNPr. 1853, LXXVII, Dept. 7, p. 104). In [Avsenev’s] article “Pre-depiction of immortality in a state of sleep” (Sunday Reading. Part II. 1838/39. No. 3. pp. 21–23) we talk about sleep, dreams, and somnambulism. In another article “How should you go to bed?” (Ibid. Part III. 1839/40. No. 30. P. 285–288) we read: “Sleep time should be important for a Christian, as a time of special closeness and frequent communication of the soul with the spiritual world... The soul then becomes closer to the disembodied world, more conveniently submits to the influx of the forces on high and receives higher suggestions from them” (P. 287). In this article we find an analogy between a sleeping person and a plant. The Mip of dreams and the Mip of plants are mysteriously intertwined. In the article “Teachings of the night in nature” (Ibid. Part XVII. 1853/54. No. 19. P. 182) we read about the mystery of sleep, about sleep as future life in its beginnings. Wed. also “Dream” (Sunday Reading. Part V. 1841/42. No. 27. P. 220–224) with a mention of “the fever that occurs every night in each of us, as doctors note” (Ibid. P. 221). In particular, see about approaching the spiritual Mipy in a dream (Ibid. p. 222). VI. P. 14. Wed. in the same place (p. 15) and an anonymous article in “Sunday Reading” (1838/39. No. 28. pp. 245–246) under the title “Ruins”, where the same thought: “If the ruins of soulless buildings involuntarily plunge us into deep thoughtfulness and reflection: all the more should we delve into the ruins of our own being. The researcher of antiquities spares neither labor nor time in order to restore the correct reading of the damaged and half-decayed chronicle, to clean and explain the image imprinted on the coin, should each of us work less...", etc. Askochensky’s article is clearly incorrectly attributed to Amfitheatrov (Op. cit. P. 151). About the ruins cf. still V. S. 284; IX. P. 259. Wed. Filaret. III. P. 296 [ = II. P. 159] and II. P. 310. “Plato’s plains are characterized by the following excerpts from his travel notes: “We admired the beauty of the places along the way... The more equal places were raised by some small elevations, on which pleasant groves or fields opened up, dotted with various grains and turning green”” (Plato. II. p. 297). “From the city, along the banks of the meadow, amazing landscapes began to appear: nowhere, not a hill, not a hummock, not a bush was visible for about five miles covered with greenery” (Plato. II. p. 296). Letters about Kyiv. M., 1869. pp. 62–63. VII. P. 78. “Spirits of wickedness in high places.” VI. P. 158; VII. P. 227; VIII. P. 46. VI. P. 295. Cf. in parallel about the madness of evil spirits (VIII. p. 179). Wed. IV. P. 227; VI. P. 309; VIII. pp. 168,178. Kireevsky I. Poly. collection op. T. II. M., 1911. P. 126. Wed. “The cries of flesh and blood will not slow down to drown out the quiet voice of an awakened conscience” (IX. p. 242). IX. P. 165. See the same expression. VII. P. 41 V. P. 68. Wed. still VI. S. 2 Archpriest G. in "Wreath". P. 115. Wed. doubling at the conclusion of the sermon on Spiritual Day IV. P. 159 (“Glory, infinite glory”) and in the sermon on the Nativity of Christ III. P. 120 (“Glory, eternal glory”). In the sermon on Spiritual Day. Wed. previous note. Filaret. I. S. 33 [= I. S. 26]. Wed. in the same sermon I. S. 38 [= I. S. 29] definitions of the Cross. Filaret. III. P. 341 [= I. P. 150]. Filaret. III. P. 53 [= I. P. 318]. Kireevsky I. Complete. collection op. M., 1911. T. II. pp. 125–126. The opposition and comparison of Innocent and Philaret was already quite common in the 30s. Thus, Davydov in his “Readings on Literature” (Course vtorog. Ed. 2nd. M., 1838. P. 191) speaks of the words of Innocent and Philaret as “the crown of spiritual modern orbit,” placing as an example the sermons of both in the Great Five. The personal relationship of Filaret and Innocent is characterized by N. Barsov (On the biography of Innocent. Christian Reading. 1884. No. 1–2. pp. 188–224). Here are letters from Filaret containing his reviews and comments about “Passion” and “Bright Week”. Wed. also from V. Pevnitsky. Memories of the late Metropolitan of Kiev Arseny (Tr. Kievsk. Dukh. Ak. 1877. No. 1. P. 280–282) and in M. Popov in Memoirs (Historical Bulletin. 1894. No. 4. P. 224–225) Compare, for example, V. S. 197. Barsov N. On the biography of Innocent // Christ. Reading. 1884. No. 1–2. P. 199. In a letter to Muravyov, Filaret wrote: “Excellently many abilities; but as you wish, I would like a calm mind to follow the work of a living and strong imagination” (letters to A. N. M... Kyiv, 1869. P. 21). Wed. Priest Butkevich. Innokenty Borisov, former Archbishop of Tauride. St. Petersburg, 1887, pp. 415–416. Filaret. V. P. 77 [ = III. P. 321]. Barsukov N.P. Life and works of Pogodin. T.VI. pp. 130–131. IX. P. 207. In “The Last Days of the Earthly Life of Jesus Christ” (II. pp. 128–129), Innocent gives a description of the torment of those crucified from the dissertation of one “pious physician” of the 18th century (Richter. Dissertatis de morte Servatoris in cruce. 1757). The description in the sermon matches this description quite well. III. P. 149. Οίκίαν - church - in Matthew 2:11 Innocent is inclined to interpret not only as a house in Bethlehem; where did St. move to? family (this is how this place is interpreted, for example, by Theophylact), but also as the cave in which Christ was born (III. p. 169). Innocent deals in detail with the issues of concordance of the Gospel stories about the Nativity of Christ in “Readings of the Gospel stories about the circumstances of the earthly life of Jesus Christ, before His entry into open service for the salvation of the human race” (Oc. T. XI. St. Petersburg, 1877. P. 62 et seq.). Rev. Macarius in "Wreath". P. 28. Sushkov N. Notes on the life and times of St. Philaret, Metropolitan. Moscow. M., 1868. Appendix. P. 48. X. S. 61–62. Wed. repetitions: “Do not quench the spirit!” (IV. p. 172), “Eternity is before us!” (VI. P. 34), etc. VI. P. 34; X. S. 61–62; VII. P. 87–88.0 the mystical and cosmic meaning of the septenary Innocent says b.V. P. 121. On the physical and spiritual seventh day, cf. also Op. T. XI. St. Petersburg, 1877. P. 325. “So, tremble, stubborn opponent of truth!” – twice (VII. pp. 68–69). The antistrophes “and we are sleeping!” are expressive. (IV. pp. 41–42), “Noah built the ark!” (III. P. 16). Lycee ou cours de litterature ancienne et modeme. T. 7. (Paris. An. VII), P. 126. Barsov N. Archbishop. Innokenty Borisov based on new materials for his biography. St. Petersburg, 1884. P. 14 (Separate reprint from the Christian Readings. 1884. No. 3–4). Innokenty wrote to priest Klimentov in 1822: “I will try to get Petit carême Massillons. This is the pearl of French literature" (Russian Antiquity. 1881. No. 11. P. 581). "Wreath". P. 17. Wed. also: Uch. Zap. II department Imp. Academician Sci. 1859 (Bk. V. S. XXV). The comparison of Innocent and Philaret with Massillon and Bossuet has been made more than once. Compare, for example, Pogodin: “Comparisons are outdated, but when you read Philaret and Innocent, Bossuet and Massillon involuntarily come to mind” (Moskvityanin. 1848. 4.5, section Z. P. 80). Archpriest G. in "Wreath". P. 112. Jerome. Joseph (“The Crown.” pp. 82–83). IX. pp. 243–245. “But behold, the book of the covenant was on His feet! Let us dare, brothers, let us dare to open this sacred book, so that we will see and hear what the Lord says about us (Ps. 84:9). Oh, brethren, He speaks peace to His people,” Innocent may have done the same thing when delivering a conversation at the liturgy on the eve of the Nativity of Christ (III. pp. 50–63), which contains an interpretation of Matt. 1:18–23, and other Christmas sermons. Pogodin also wrote about the discrepancy between the language of sacred texts and the language of the sermon itself (Moskvityanin. 1848. Part 5, section 3. P. 81): “In Philaret, the church language has somehow entered into the measure of the Russian language, so that you can no longer distinguish them; In Innocent, the church language is clearer and sometimes even too clear, which becomes a speech defect.” For example, Hebrews 2:2–3 in III. P. 102; 1 Thess. 4:17 in IV. P. 97; Russian paraphrase of Ps.139:7–10 in IV. P. 175. etc. See Barsov N. On the history of sermons and writings of Innocent. Christian Reading. 1886. No. 11–12. P. 752. For example, IV. P. 279; VII. P. 6; VIII. P. 27. Oraison funèbre de la reine d'Angleterre. 1669. (Oraisons funèbres. Paris, 1818. P.29.) Filaret. [ = II. P. 316]. XII. P. 123. Cp. mention of Napoleon's name on S. 126. Muscovite. 1848. Part 5, section Z. P. 81. Wed. about the local coloring of Innocent’s sermons in a review of “Words to the Vologda flock” (ZhMNPr. 1843. Part XXXIX, department 6. pp. 148–149). XI. pp. 28–33. “The monastery stands on a gap, stone soil, and in the spring it is filled with water; the roofs are covered with ice" (N. P. Barsukov. Life of Pogodin. T. VI. pp. 204–205). IV. P. 235. Wed. about “fire-colored tongues,” “fire-colored tongues,” and not fiery ones (IV. p. 153). Note that Innocent loves the play of light and shadow, without colors. Wed. about the shadow of the Church (IV. P. 213), the shadows of wickedness (IV. P. 185), about lightning in the darkness of the night (VI. P. 180). Characteristic for Innocent are reflections on the light and dark circle of festivities (IV. P. 328), on the “divinely bright circle of Pentecost” (IV. P. 92), words about “light” (III. P. 83) “luminous” mysteries (III. P. 92). Barsukov N.P. Life and works of Pogodin. X. VIII. P. 257. Five letters from M. A. Maksimovich to the archbishop. Innokenty Borisov. Proceedings of the Kyiv Theological Academy. 1884. No. 9. P. 139. Filaret. [ = III. P. 260]. Filaret. [ = III. P. 89]. Filaret. [ = III. P. 106]. Filaret. [ = III. P. 163]. IX. P. 76. Wed. on the day of Easter: “Many of us, no doubt, will again be worthy of seeing and singing the day of resurrection; and some - and this is also beyond doubt - will celebrate, if they prove worthy, the next Easter already in the non-evening days of the Kingdom of Christ” (X. P. 155). “Death does not care about anything of ours, human: it is a skeleton without a heart and soul, with only a scythe and a sickle” (VIII. p. 234). Wed. III. P. 260; IV. P. 273; V. S. 22, 37, 251, 292; VI. pp. 23, 71, 73, 152; VIII. P. 174; IX. S. 4, 10, 6 6, 99, 126, 132, 273. VIII. P. 202. Wed. the analogy of healing physical waters and saving waters of grace (X. P. 115–121). That is, St. John the Baptist. Wed. IV. P. 227; VI. P. 293; VIII. S. 168, 309, 178, etc. Wed. words that holy scripture “very rarely lifts the veil that hides the spiritual Mip from us” (V. P. 131), words about the “veil of oblivion” (VIII. P. 16), “the veil of human nature” (VIII. P. 210), “the curtain of the visible, under which the darkness of invisible miracles is hidden” (IX. P. 269), “the impenetrable curtain separating the Mip invisible from the visible" (III. P. 305), "the veil of eternity" (IV. P. 320), about the moment of death when all veils fall (IV. P. 135), "the veil of the future" (VIII. P. 1), etc. In addition to the places given in the note, we will point out others in which the image of the veil is found: III. P. 71 (veil of uncertainty over the cradle of the Son of God); III. P. 127 (the veil of simplicity and humility covering the greatness of the Son of God); III. P. 215 (impenetrable veil of the future); IV. pp. 32 and V pp. 50 (the veil of human flesh hiding the brilliance of the deity, the deity shining from under the veil of flesh); VIII. P. 1 (veil of the church), etc. IV. pp. 322–323. Wed. “a formidable limit from which there is no return” (III. P. 268), a line separating the region of wickedness from the kingdom of light (III. P. 261), etc. IV. P. 114. Wed. “we are surrounded by holy days” (V. P. 286), “the divinely luminous Circle of Pentecost” (IV. P. 92), etc. X. P. 6. Wed. another word for St. Easter. X. P. 165–170. Wed. XI. P. 131: “The title of a warrior coincides with the state of the strictest Christian asceticism.” Barashkov N. P. Life and works of Pogodin. T. XIII. P. 49. Wed. Priest Butkevich. Innocent... P. 357; N. Vostokov in Russian Antiquity. 1879. No. 4. P. 696; Spiritual Messenger. 1862. No. 4. The sermon is placed in Op. (T. VIII. SPb., 1874. P. 20–22). Archpriest Nikolai Tikhvinsky. Memories of the life and works of St. Demetrius, Metropolitan of Rostov, wonderworker, on the occasion of the 200th anniversary of his arrival in Rostov the Great (1702–March 1, 1902). Edition by N. A. Uspensky. Rostov Yaroslavsky. 1902. P. 3. Russian biographical dictionary. St. Petersburg, 1905. T. 5. pp. 389–394. Prot. Nikolai Tikhvinsky. Decree. op. S. 5. Menea. September. M„ 1996. P. 608. Orthodox encyclopedia. Russian Orthodox Church. M., 2000. P. 429. Prot. Nikolai Tikhvinsky. Decree op. P. 18. Prot. Nikolai Tikhvinsky. Decree op. P. 17. On the poem there are stichera, tone 2, self-voicing. - Service to our holy father Demetrius, Metropolitan of Rostov, wonderworker. Metropolitan Platon (Levshin). Autobiography, or notes about the life of Plato, Metropolitan of Moscow // “From the depths I cried to You, Lord...” M., 1996. P.73. Poselyanin E. Russian Church and Russian ascetics of the 18th century. St. Petersburg, 1905. P. 100. Russian biographical dictionary. T. 11. St. Petersburg, 1905. P. 52. Metropolitan Platon (Levshin). Autobiography, or notes about the life of Plato, Metropolitan of Moscow // “From the depths I called to You, Lord...” M„ 1996. P.42. Metropolitan Platon (Levshin). Decree op. P. 64. Sumarokov A.P. Complete works. M., 1787. T. VI. P. 283. (Quoted from the book: Russian Biographical Dictionary. T. 11. St. Petersburg, 1905. P. 53). Subsequently adopted by the Synod as a general rule (Metropolitan Platon (Levshin). Complete works. T. II. St. Petersburg: published by P. P. Soikin, 1913. P. 473). “Sermons, greetings and funeral words” amount to 20 volumes. Brief Russian Church History, composed by His Grace Plato, Metropolitan of Moscow in Bethany. M.: Synod, typ., 1805. Soloviev S.M. Essays. Book XVI. M., 1995. P. 256. See more details: Archimandrite Nikon. The life and exploits of our venerable and God-bearing father Sergius, abbot of Radonezh and All Russia, wonderworker: Holy Trinity Lavra of Sergius, 1904. P. 240. Christianity. Encyclopedic Dictionary. M., 1995. T. 2. P. 352. ) See also publications: Travel of His Eminence Plato, Metropolitan of Moscow, to Kyiv and other Russian cities in 1804, written in his own hand with comments // Snegirev I.M. Life of Moscow Metropolitan Plato. M.: 1857; Metropolitan Platon. Complete set of works. SPb.: ed. P. Soikina, 1913. T.P. pp. 284–328. See: Travel notes of His Eminence Metropolitan Plato, Moscow and Kaluga, to Yaroslavl, Kostroma and Vladimir 1792. Travel notes of His Eminence Plato, Metropolitan of Moscow, to Kyiv and other Russian cities in 1804, written in his own hand with comments // Snegirev I.M. Life of Moscow Metropolitan Plato. M.: 1857. "Anglophilia at the Throne." British and Russians in the Age of Catherine II. Comp. E. Cross. (B. m., 1992). P. 40. Metropolitan Platon (Levshin). Autobiography, or notes about the life of Plato, Metropolitan of Moscow // “From the depths I cried to You, Lord...” M., 1996. P.31. For more details, see: Kazansky P. The attitude of Metropolitan Plato to Empress Catherine II and Emperor Paul // Readings in the Imperial Society of History and Russian Antiquities. M., 1875. Book. 4. Sec. V. P. 175. The translation was made by the book. Dashkova and published in London in 1771 under the title: Sermon preche sur la tombe de Pierre le Grand le lendemain du jour que l’on reçut à St. Petersbourg la nouvelle de la victoire navale remportée sur la flotte turque. Metropolitan Platon (Levshin). Complete set of works. St. Petersburg, 1913. Book. 1. P. 7. “From the depths I cried to You, Lord...” M., 1996. P.7. For more details, see: Metropolitan Ioann Snychev. The life and work of Metropolitan Philaret. Tula, 1994. Russian biographical dictionary. T. 17. St. Petersburg, 1901, p. 83. Metropolitan Ioana (Snychev). Decree. op. From 111. Menea. November. Part II. M., 1998. P. 143. This catechism was translated into English and became widespread in American schools. Menea. November. Part II. M. 1998. P. 144. From the editor // Life and scientific and literary activity of His Grace Innocent, Archbishop of Kherson and Tauride. St. Petersburg. Book publishing Π. P. Soikina. B. g. S. 4. From the editor // Life and scientific and literary activity of His Grace Innocent, Archbishop of Kherson and Tauride. St. Petersburg. Book publishing Π. P. Soikina. B. g. S. 8. Leonov Yu. Glorification of the new Odessa saints // Sovereign Rus'. 1998 (45). No. 1, p.7. Leonov Yu. Decree. op. S. 7