Пирамида, или столп во блаженной памяти преставившемуся к Богу превеликому Его милости господину отцу Иннокентию Гизелю, архимандриту великой Чудотворной Лавры Киевской, поставленный на вечную память о нем в годовщину погребению его, месяца февраля, в 24 день, 1685 года

“His memory will forever be blessed” (1 Mac. 3:7). “The memory of him will not perish, and his name will live on for generations and generations; the nations will glorify his wisdom, and the Church will confess his praise” (Sir. 39:12–13). Death and time have long sought to destroy both people and the memory of them in the world, a great listener, which they prove by their actions. For death turns people into non-humans, and time turns the memory of people into non-memory. Death leads everyone into the grave, and for a long time consigns everyone to oblivion. Oh, how many people, starting with Adam, death mixed with the earth! And time! Since the flood, how many human affairs have been razed to the ground! Death devours people, and time devours the very memory of them, which is why the wise call it a consuming thing. But if the sharp mortal scythe hits the stone, and the destroying teeth of time hit the marble, they can’t do anything. When, I say, they fall on such a holy person, whose death is not death, but the beginning of eternal life, and whose good deeds are written down for eternal memory both in heavenly books and in human hearts, then the mortal scythe will be dulled, and the teeth of time, which eat all things, will be crushed. It is about such a person that the Holy Spirit Himself speaks in Sirach: “The memory of him will not perish, and his name will live for generations and generations; the nations will glorify his wisdom, and the Church will confess his praise.” About such a man, who died in God, the great Lord of His mercy, Father Innocent Gisela, Archimandrite of this holy, great, miraculous Lavra of the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra, our father and shepherd, we now perform an annual commemoration. “The memory of him will not perish,” and his name will live on in subsequent centuries. His wisdom is known to outsiders, and for his good deeds he is praised by everyone. Here you, death, are powerless, for “the hope of his immortality is fulfilled” (Wis. 3:4), and you, time, will not gnaw with your teeth the oblivion of the memory of such a person, for “the righteous will be an eternal memory” (Ps. 112:6). People of old centuries, who diligently tried to ensure that their memory would be eternal, with great difficulty and considerable expense, erected invincible cities, strong pillars, great towers, high pyramids. The descendants of Noah, who multiplied after the flood, gathered together and discussed the following matter: “Come, let us build ourselves a city and a pillar up to the heavens, and glorify our name” (Gen. 11:4). In the same way, Absalom, wanting eternal memory among people, erected a pillar for himself in the royal valley, saying: “I have no son in memory of my name, and he called the pillar by his name” (2 Sam. 18:18). Simon Maccabee, wanting to leave an eternal memory of himself, and of his relatives and brothers, “erected the tomb of his father and his brothers and brought it high, for appearance, from hewn stone behind and in front. And he built seven pyramids on it, one opposite the other, for his father and mother and four brothers, and he himself made fences, placing high pillars around, and on the pillars a sign for eternal remembrance” (1 Mac. 13:27-29). For strength, they created their memory from stone, marble and alabaster. But all this is subject to time, for truly death and a long time both themselves and the memory of them, these cities, pillars, pyramids, have so erased that now you cannot find their place. Remembered now, high in God, his most admirable lord, Father Innocent Gisel, Archimandrite of Pechersk, our father and shepherd, left behind an eternal memory. What? Not in marbles and alabasters, not in towers, pillars and pyramids subject to the oblivion of time, but in good, pious, prudent and godly deeds, which are never forgotten by God and long remembered by people. In his great holiness, he left behind an immortal memory, so that he can say about himself in these words of Solomon: “Through her I will achieve immortality and leave to my descendants an eternal memory of me” (Wis. 8:13). In order to better see and preserve this memory of him longer, I, an excellent listener, imitating the ancient generations, with the help of God and my laudable memories, created over his tomb, even if unskillfully, a pyramid or pillar, not from mortal, but from spiritual materials, and to place signs on it - signs of special good deeds in the life of the deceased. And thus, wanting to create a pillar as an eternal memory, I do not need to sit down and count the estate that would be needed for fulfillment (cf. Luke 14:28), since the great treasures of the estate of the great archimandrite who died in God have not yet sunk into oblivion in your memory. You, Christ the Savior, who commanded us through the Apostle to remember our mentors (see Heb. 13:7), hasten with Your grace in this matter, and your mercy help me with attentive listening. “The memory of him will not perish, and his name will live on for generations and generations; the nations will glorify his wisdom, and the church will confess his praise.” Starting to build a pyramid, or a pillar in eternal memory of the great lord of his mercy, Father Innocent Gisela, who went to God, the archimandrite of this holy, great, miraculous Pechersk Lavra, our father and shepherd, I am looking for myself, a great listener, a model according to which I could begin to build this building. I did not like the image of the pillar of the descendants of Noah, for it is known that the Lord God Himself did not take kindly to it: “When the Lord came down, he saw the city and the pillar that the sons of men were building and said: “Let us go down and confuse their language” (Gen. 11:5, 7). I also didn’t like the example of Absalom’s pillar, because he himself was not worthy, as he thought, to be placed in it, for he was thrown somewhere, like a corpse, into a deep abyss and covered with stones. I also did not like the drawing of the Maccabean pyramids, for truly they were similar to those pyramids that were built over the corpses of rulers in Memphis, the Egyptian city full of idolatry and enchantment. In the Church of God, the tomb and memory of such a great man should be decorated in a different way. I find a suitable example in the pillars of Solomon's church, the material of which was copper and gold. Their decoration was made of gold, nets, lilies and apples, and the same gold decorations were placed like crowns around the circumference of the capitals (see 1 Kings 7). In the likeness of those pillars, we will also build a pyramid for the most eminent archimandrite who died in Bose. We will spiritually erect such a pillar for him, likening it to the pillar standing in Solomon’s church and decorated with a golden net, lilies and apples. For he truly was a single pillar in the Church of God, as the lips of all the sons of Russia always said, that Innocent Gisel, Archimandrite of Pechersk, is a pillar and support in the Church of God. And just as then, during his life, he was a pillar of the Church, so after his death may his virtuous life, remembered before our mental eyes, be that pillar - a pillar standing in the Holy of Holies, not a military pillar, as before in the militant Church, but one that befits a triumphant Church, that is, such a pillar as the Lord promises to make every champion of the Church: “He who overcomes will I make a pillar in the church of My God” (Rev. 3:12). The pillar of Solomon's church, as stated above, was made of two materials: copper and gold, made of copper and gilded. Both copper and gold are symbols of patience in tribulations and constancy in good deeds, and the fact that copper has such a meaning was indicated by the Lord Himself when He appeared to His beloved disciple John, when He showed him feet like red-hot copper: “His feet are like chalcolivan (a type of copper), like those red-hot in a furnace” (Rev. 1:15). By these feet of Christ, Saint Ambrose means those faithful who will live during the fierce persecution of the Antichrist and, having tasted countless troubles and sorrows at this time, as if tempted in a fiery furnace, will turn out to be strong in patience and firm in a virtuous life. And that gold is an image of the same thing is clear from the words of the Holy Spirit: “He purified them like gold in a furnace and found them worthy of Himself” (Wis. 3:6). Whoever then patiently endures all kinds of troubles and sorrows and constantly remains in good deeds, he is, as it were, a single pillar made of spiritual copper and gold. But it is true that the archimandrite, who died in God, endured many sorrows and constantly spent his life virtuously, which is why he was a pillar created from spiritual copper and gold. And that he endured many sorrows, was tempted like copper and gold in a furnace, this can be seen by everyone who knows. For what else are our unhappy times but a furnace kindled by troubles and sorrows? Now the words of Christ are being fulfilled: “Then there will be great tribulation, such as has not been since the beginning of the world” (Matthew 24:21). “You will hear about wars and rumors of wars” - this is sorrow. “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom”—that’s the trouble. “Then they will hand you over to be tormented and you will be hated by everyone” - this is sorrow. “There will be famines, pestilences and earthquakes in places” - that’s the trouble (Matthew 24:6–7, 9). The Theologian foreshadows: “Children! Lately. And as you have heard that the Antichrist will come,” this is sorrow. “And now many antichrists have appeared” - that’s the trouble (1 John 2:18). On all sides the world is burning with the fire of troubles and sorrows: “Danger from fellow tribesmen, danger in the city, danger among false brothers” (2 Cor. 11:26). How many sorrows the deceased archimandrite endured in Bose in this burning furnace, in our, I say, times full of troubles, this does not need much explanation. Suffice it to say that, having been in charge of this holy monastery for about thirty years, he spent a considerable time in the troubles of the regulations, in thoughts, in sorrows, in troubles. When wars were disturbing everywhere with constant fear: “Without the attacks of enemies, within fears” (2 Cor. 7:5), shouldn’t he also complain along with David: “My life was exhausted in illness and my years were spent in groaning” (Ps. 30:11)? For is it not a disease to see Christian Ukraine exhausted by wars? Isn’t it sighing to hear about the shed blood of Orthodox people? Isn’t it a disease to see the holy monastery oppressed by enemies more than once? Isn’t it sighing to hear the sparkling sword of an infidel near you? Isn’t it a disease to see mental wolves attacking his spiritual flock? Is it not groaning to try to present each of the brethren to Christ blameless, as if “obligated to give an account of him” (Heb. 13:17)? With all those illnesses and sighs, he was like copper heated in a furnace, cooled only by God and saying: “You are my refuge from the sorrow that has come upon me! My joy! Deliver me from those around me!” (Ps. 31:7). He also showed hardness, like one of those who are marked by Christ's copper feet. The theologian, as you heard, saw Christ with copper legs. Nebuchadnezzar, on the contrary, saw a golden idol with clay legs: the legs were iron, and some other part was clay, that is, the very feet on which that fool stood were clay. Why they were made of clay needs to be found out. If the feet of Christ, according to the explanation of St. Ambrose, were like copper in order to depict through this the hardness of devout people, then the legs of the idol were clay so that through this the instability of undevout people could be known. For, as you know, the clay feet only stood for so long, they held their blockhead on themselves until the stone came off, and as soon as the stone fell, they not only crushed themselves, but also turned the entire idol into dust. Likewise, unstable people only seem to remain in piety until some adventure falls on them like a stone. Others are patient until there is some reason for impatience: until then they are sober, pure and kind, until there is an occasion for drunkenness, sin and malice; hitherto pious as long as there is no reason for godlessness. When any temptation falls on them, like a stone falling on feet of clay, it crushes their firmness, and they cast their unjust virtue like a golden but soulless idol onto the ground and turn it to dust. These are not the feet of Christ, likened to brass. These are not, I say, those people who are firm in good teachings. Even though they walk among many stumbling blocks and temptations, they “will not dash their foot against a stone” (Ps. 91:12), and will not fall or be broken. Such was the archimandrite who died in God. Not like clay, but like copper, he stood firmly, as if planted and motionless, so that neither the winds of adversity that blew upon him and the entire monastery from the world shook him, nor the rivers of trials drowned him, nor external and internal sorrows and troubles crushed him like any clay, nor the snares of the enemy harmed him so much that he fell into any deep and well-known pit on the way to salvation. He has always been a pillar, and a pillar established in God, in the words of Scripture: “My heart is established in the Lord; the Lord is my strength and my refuge” (Ps. 17:3). From such spiritual matters, from patience and firmness, the highly exalted archimandrite, who died in God, was created, created not only as the pillar of Solomon, standing in the church, but also as the pillar of Daniel, cunningly created in Ecbatana of Media. The Jewish historian Joseph writes that the holy prophet Daniel, while in captivity in an idolatrous country, had great power there, for the king exalted him and made him a prince over the governors and over the entire Babylonian country, and that he built a very great, wondrous and magnificent pillar in Ecbatana, the Median capital, spending a lot of money on it, and with this pillar he restored the fallen glory the people of Israel in the land of the enemy. That pillar had two particularly excellent things. Firstly, as the historian reports, even after a long time it seemed as new as if it had been built now: after several hundred years, by the time of this historian, the structure remained as if it had been built under him, and always seemed new. Secondly, the kings of the Medes, Parthians and Persians were buried in it, and thus it became the single tomb of these rulers and monarchs. The highly exalted archimandrite, who died in God, spiritually built himself into the same pillar, for he truly had in himself both things attributed by the historian to the pillar of Daniel. As for the ever-present novelty of this pillar, here I will name its generosity, which, courageously enduring all the sorrows found from without, is consoled in the one God. For just as the novelty of the pillar of Daniel was not damaged by changes in the air, winds and rains, so the generosity of a courageous man does not change from adversity that comes from outside. He who does not faint in sorrows, who is not depressed by misfortunes, who does not fall in cowardice and lack of faith and, having placed his entire seal on God, places his hope in Him alone and through Him his heart is cooled, he is always new, joyful in God and, as it were, carefree, according to the Scripture: “We are grieved, but we always rejoice” (2 Cor. 6:10). For the sorrows that come from without increase in a God-inspired man not sorrow, but spiritual joy in God. The prophet Habakkuk sings: “Even though the fig tree did not blossom, and there was no fruit on the vines, and the olive tree failed, and the field did not yield food, even if there were no sheep in the fold and no cattle in the stalls, even then I rejoice in the Lord and rejoice in God my Savior” (Hab. 3:17-18). See where this prophet, filled with the Holy Spirit, is filled with joy? Is it not from sorrows, misfortunes and sorrows? Gardens, he says, vegetable gardens and vineyards will not produce fruit, there will be no harvest in the field, there will be famine among people and livestock, and if someone steals oxen from a manger, won’t it be an attack, won’t this cause sadness and trouble for the master? And the prophet, instead of sorrow and sorrow, sings: “I rejoice in the Lord and rejoice in God my Savior.” This is why he says, when such sorrows happen: if I bear them courageously and do not be faint-hearted, then I will achieve perfection and be exalted by God. “The Lord my God is my strength, and will guide my feet to perfection and lift me up on high” (Hab. 3:19)! You see how the sorrows that come upon a God-inspired man increase his spiritual joy in God. Saint Cyprian speaks about this perfectly, in agreement with the prophetic words: “Let there be no fruit in the vineyard! Let the olive tree deceive! Let the grains wither from the heat and the field yield no harvest! What is in this for Christians, what is in this for the servants of God, whom heaven calls, for whom the grace and riches of the heavenly kingdom await? Let them rejoice in the Lord, and let them bear the evil and disgusting things of this world with courage, if they expect future blessings!” Such was the novelty, such was the courageous generosity, such was always the spiritual joy in God of the now remembered God-inspired man, the most exalted archimandrite. Was there any fruit in the vineyard, that is, good in the holy monastery, as if those vineyards were devastated by an enemy invasion, was the food of the sheep becoming scarce, that is, were the incomes of the verbal sheep in the Virgin Mary's fold diminished, were the oxen missing from the manger, that is, were the areas going to the Polish country and the oxen were being taken away from the holy monastery, did other similar significant sorrows occur, misfortunes and worries - this pillar did not lose its novelty, this, I say, God-inspired man did not lose his generosity, hope and spiritual joy in God, but in his secret prayers he sang with his heart together with Habakkuk: “But I will rejoice in the Lord and be glad in God my Savior,” for he well remembered the advice of the holy Apostle James: “With great joy accept it, my brothers, when you fall into various temptations,” that is, in grief, sorrow and various misfortunes (James 1:2). As for another thing worthy of note that the pillar of Daniel had, the fact that the kings of the Medes, Parthians and Persians were buried in it, then this too can be seen with mental eyes in our spiritual pillar. May I be permitted here to call mortal sins kings, and wicked kings. The apostle gives me a reason for this in the following words: “Let not sin reign in your mortal body” (Rom. 6:12), where he calls sin a king, and this is the truth. For it is known that just as a king possesses his subjects, so sin leads the one whom it saddles and in whose heart it takes root. And therefore, no matter how many sins and passions a sin-loving person commits, he has just as many wicked kings whom he obeys: “What I want, I do not do, and what I do not want, I do” (Rom. 7:19). These wicked kings, sins, I say, mortals, live and reign in one, die and are buried in another. They live and reign with that person who does not have death before his eyes, promising themselves a long life and saying: all the time in my power, I will have time to repent in old age. Such a sinful kingdom has established its capital, as David testifies to this: “As there is no rest in their death.” Saint Jerome reads this passage from the Hebrew language as follows: “As they did not think about their death, therefore pride completely took possession of them, they clothed themselves in their untruth and wickedness. Their unrighteousness comes as from fat; they walk out of love in their hearts” (Ps. 73:4, 6-7). They, he says, did not think about death, and therefore all sins reigned in them. These wicked kings die and are buried by that man who always has death before his eyes. For the one who remembers his death, sin will not dwell: “You will never sin” (Sir. 7:39). The apostle speaks beautifully on behalf of all those who remember death: “Death is at work in us, but life in you” (2 Cor. 4:12) - that is, as if he says: “You allow yourself so much and sin carelessly because life is at work in you, and you hope to live long in the world, but we live modestly in the fear of God and are careful not to sin, for death is at work in us, we have death before our eyes, we see to the grave: “The fear of death has come upon us” (Ps. 54:5). I turn here to our spiritual pillar, whose body has already descended into the tomb, and whose soul remains in heaven, to his most exalted merciful father, Archimandrite of Pechersk, and I repeat that the kings of the Medes, Parthians and Persians were buried in it, they were buried, but did not reign, they died, and did not live, they were conquered, and not conquered, for death acted in him, for he remembered death. This world is full of charms and temptations, like the king of the Persians, who indulged in sorcery and enchantment; the flesh rebelling against the spirit, like the king of the Parthians, who worship the evil Venus, the devil, who destroys our spiritual fruits, like the king of the Medes, who have a barren country - all these evil but strong kings, if they ever approached that invincible fortress, if they ever attacked that strong pillar, completely exhausted over it, like babies over a stone, were forced to fall corpses near it, became dead and buried. The world was buried in him when, from a young age, he left “the world and all that is in it” (1 John 2:15), and lived in the monastic rite continuously until the end of his life, for he knew well that “the image of this world is passing away” (1 Cor. 7:31), and it is passing away as David says about one cedar that exalts itself in the world: “And I passed by, and behold, it was no more” (Ps. 36:36 ). The Chaldean Paraphrastus (interpreter) uses the words: “he passed by” in the third person and reads this passage as follows: “He passed by, and now he is not.” Similarly, this world passes by: “He passed by, and now he is not.” Scripture does not say: “and now he is no more,” but: “And now he is no more,” that is, it seems to say: even then, when the world existed, it still did not exist, for no matter how many centuries it had in itself, everything in it is untrue, everything is impermanent, everything seems to have never existed. Has wealth that truly exists, but soon perishes, has honors, but not true, for they soon change, has luxury, but does not exist, for it soon flows away. And therefore, although the world exists, it is as if it does not exist and did not exist: “And now it is not.” The archimandrite who died in God acted prudently when, like Mary, he chose the good part (Luke 10:42): he chose the rejection of the world as a truly good thing, which, in contrast to the untrue and fickle world, deserves an eternal stay in heaven. The wisdom of the flesh was buried in him, rebelling against the spirit, when, on the advice of the apostle, he “mortified his body” (1 Cor. 9:27) in order to live with Christ the Lord, for he knew that he would achieve eternal life only through self-mortification, according to the words of Scripture: “You have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3:3). First it says they died, and they died through the mortification of their body, and then eternal life with Christ is promised. And Moses went out with the people of Israel from Egypt to the promised land not earlier than the firstborn of Egypt were struck with death. Likewise, a person will not enter eternal life until he destroys his passions within himself by self-mortification. The one who died in God put to death that Egyptian firstborn within himself, when he exhausted himself so much with spiritual labors, abstinence, fasting, vigilance and prostrations that he was left with only skin and bones, and therefore could freely say about himself in the words of David: “My bones are like dry wood, and I am like hay withered” (Ps. 101:4). Defeated by this fortress, the devil, whom he defeated with prayer as with a sword, fell. For prayer is a sword, as St. Chrysostom says: “When demons see us armed with prayer, they run away like robbers and villains who see a military sword drawn over their heads.” Just as evildoers turn their head away from the sword, so the devil turns his neck away from prayer. But it is true that in blessed memory our departed father was all about prayers, all about the diligent fulfillment of church and cell rules, which is why he defeated the murderer-devil with prayer, like with a sword (see John 8:44). So, at this spiritual pillar the world, the flesh and the devil found their death and burial, just as the kings of the Persians, Parthians and Medes once did in the pillar of Daniel. When the beloved in paradise in the Song of Songs began to engage in the creation of certain spiritual pillars, the Holy Spirit chanted to her: “Your nostrils are like a pillar, your neck is like a pillar” (Song. 7:5). Then she herself says about herself: “My nipples are like a pillar.” Didn’t the Holy Spirit want to say this here on behalf of the beloved to those people who in our world are trying to create nothing other than pillars like nostrils, neck and chest? For those who want to enjoy the vain glory of men, as if it were a certain smell, who strive hard for it and apply all their strength to it, do they not, I say, do anything other than “build their nostrils like a pillar,” and a pillar of smoke, which is remembered in the books of Judges: “There appeared a fire coming out of the city, and a pillar of smoke” (Judges 20:40). For, as you know, smoke occurs where fire burns something. In the same way, vain glory comes from human praise, and just as smoke spreads in the air and disappears, so empty praise disappears like smoke. Those who think a lot about themselves, stretch their necks high out of pride, try to rise up, aren’t they doing nothing more than “building their necks like a pillar,” and a pillar of reeds? For just as a reed grows high, but is empty inside, so he who considers himself to be something is nothing. And those who have drowned their entire thought in wealth, are they doing nothing more than building up their breasts like a pillar, saying to their soul: “You have a lot of good things lying around for many years.” They are like nipples: “Eat, drink, be merry” (Luke 12:19). This is what the Holy Spirit could say, equating the breasts of His beloved with certain people. However, it is known that the Holy Spirit had in mind here the special theological virtues of His beloved: faith, hope and love. When He says: “Your nostrils are like pillars,” He shows her faith, which is invisible, according to the words of the apostle: “Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen” (Heb. 11:1). And just as a fragrant thing, even if it is kept somewhere invisible to the eyes, is recognized by its smell, so faith, although it is invisible, yet through it, as if by some kind of smell, God is recognized in us. When the Holy Spirit says: “Your neck is like a pillar,” it shows her hope in God. For like a pillar, so hope is lifted up and strengthened by God; and just as a pillar remains motionless, so “he who trusts in the Lord, like Mount Zion, will never be moved” (Ps. 124:1). When she says: “Your breasts are like a pillar,” this shows her love coming from the heart, not spilling anywhere, but directly heading towards God. I will not sin if I address these words of the Holy Spirit to our spiritual pillar, the departed father and shepherd in God, for he was truly perfect in these three virtues: faith, hope and love. He was not the kind of man to build “his nostrils like a pillar,” to, I say, desire vain human glory and rise in vanity like smoke in the air. He did not build “his neck like a pillar,” for he did not rise to the heights of pride and conceit, like an empty reed. He did not even “build up his breasts like a pillar,” for he did not place his hope in his possessions, but gathered them together in order to suck them like breasts, feeding the poor with those breasts, and based himself entirely on faith, hope and love. He was a pillar, unshakable in the faith, as evidenced by his oral disputes with opponents and the wise answers he wrote to blasphemous questions proposed by those who persecute piety. He was a pillar of hope, which is indicated by his very pious life, which always comes from hope. A person would never devote himself to great spiritual labors, deeds, prayer and other good deeds if he did not hope to receive mercy from God for this. But it is true that the archimandrite who died in God had a very devout life, as everyone knows, and therefore had a completely strong hope in God. He was a pillar in love, in love for God and neighbor. That he loved God is clear from the fact that he loved his neighbor, for “he who loves his brother loves God” (1 John 4:21), and that he loved his neighbor, testify to this by you who had constant communication with him, enjoyed his favor, were satisfied with his kindness and recognized his love, and recognize that both in faith and hope, and in love, he was a strong and strong pillar. But, seeing the strong strength of this pillar, let us turn our eyes to its height. The height of this pillar, as I think, and as you all admit, consisted in nothing other than great self-abasement. Exaltation for him was to be humble, for “he who humbles himself will be exalted” (Matthew 23:12). And truly nothing rises so high before God as holy humility. The prophet Samuel, when he once came to the house of Jesse and the little youth David was placed before him, heard a voice from heaven saying to him: “Arise and anoint David, for he is good” (1 Sam. 16:12). Saint Gregory is surprised here that God commands such a great prophet to stand before a small child. “Wasn’t,” he says, “the prophet could not, while sitting, anoint the little youth to the high place assigned to him by God? What does it mean: “Arise and anoint him?” “Was the boy really so great that he could not anoint him while sitting?” And then he answers his own question: “We cannot achieve high things while sitting. Great is the virtue of humility, great is the height of the humble, if even the prophets cannot compare with their height!” Through humility, our now remembered father and shepherd grew to great heights. For to be the guardian of the holy incorruptible relics in the caves, to be the primate in this holy, God-created Church of the Mother of God and the shepherd of the verbal chosen flock - isn’t this a great and lofty thing? To have great mercy from the most illustrious and pious great Monarchs, to be remembered with love by the most illustrious royal synclit, to have every respect from the noble reymantor - isn’t all this a great and lofty thing? Finally, to have a good name and blessed memory from each of the people, both the spiritual and secular class, and from all the people, not only during life, but also after death - and this is also no small thing! Solomon himself was jealous of this when he said: “It is better to have a good name than great wealth” (Prov. 22:1). But how did he grow to such great heights? Truly, through humility, in addition to other virtues: “he acquired high humility” (the common troparion for saints), with which humility he was filled in the heart, filled in words, filled with good morals, and through this he is high not only among people, but, we hope, also among God, for for his humility the Lord remembered and remembers him in His heavenly kingdom. The purpose of the pillar rising upward is to carry the weight and support the size of the structure. Our shepherd, who died in God, also fulfilled this purpose. He strengthened the holy Church, was a pillar of the holy monastery and was a special affirmation for everyone. He supported the Church with the same shoulders that Paul once commanded Timothy to support her with: “Be an example to the faithful in word, in life, in love, in spirit, in faith, in purity” (1 Tim. 4:12). He was a pillar of the holy monastery, similar to the pillar in the temple of Solomon, for truly this holy monastery is similar to the church of Solomon, in which there were gilded walls, and the Cherubim overshadowing the altar, and all the vessels necessary for the service were made of pure gold; there was a copper sea, which was supported by twelve oxen with their ridges; on the walls, pillars and doors were painted likenesses of dates, cedars and olive trees and likenesses of Angels. All this, listener, you can see with your spiritual eyes in this holy monastery, as if in the second church of Solomon. You will also find here gilded walls, which serve as the rules of monastic life, just as Saint Callistus, speaking of the Gospel vineyard fenced with a stronghold, means by that fence the law. By the laws established for monastic life, the holy monastery is fenced and protected like walls. And these walls are gilded, and they were gilded with a mind polished purer than gold by our holy father Basil the Great, and after him many saints, then our reverend fathers, the patrons of this holy place, Anthony and Theodosius, and other saints of Pechersk. They firmly established these laws, as if they were insurmountable walls, with their creations and their lives, as it is written about in our Patericon of Pechersk: “The Monk Theodosius, as abbot, wanted to establish his monastery with a fence, in addition to the material, the mental, that is, the orderly regulations of the monastics.” You will also find here Cherubim overshadowing the altar: these are those who stand before the altar of God and offer a bloodless Sacrifice for themselves and for the whole world. They are truly Cherubim, for they bear the image of Christ. On them, as on the Cherubim, Christ rests, according to the hymn of Damascus: “Cherubim, for Christ rested on you!” You will also see here the golden vessels, which are the conciliar fathers, most exalted by their mercy, as if carrying some kind of honey, honey in their mouths, as if in a golden vessel, they have, I say, good and sound care for the integrity and structure of the holy monastery; With their reasonable efforts, this holy monastery is being built, and therefore she can say about them: “These are my chosen vessels, appointed to constantly take careful care of me, so that I always remain intact and inviolate in my order.” You will see here a copper sea supported by oxen. This sea is holy obedience. As you know, the sea in the Church of Solomon was created to wash the priests entering the altar for service, and to cleanse impurities. Likewise, holy obedience is the means of washing away sins and cleansing the conscience of all those who, having sincerely and diligently given themselves to the service of God, fulfill the vows of obedience until their death. This sea, that is, holy obedience, is held by oxen, that is, true novices, for, as is known, a monk and a novice is an ox that pulls the yoke of Christ: “Take,” says Christ, “My yoke upon yourself and learn from Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart” (Matthew 11:29). Both the ox and the zealous novice bear it without complaint. whatever is placed on him, he does whatever he is commanded and does without grumbling. Whatever burden is placed on him, he bears it, heeding the words of Christ: “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). You will find here, as in the Church of Solomon, the likeness of dates, cedars, olives and Angels, and these are all the exalted, honest fathers and brothers in Christ, some of whom, like dates, bloom, growing in goodness: “The righteous will flourish like a date”; others multiply their fruits like the cedars of God: “Like the cedar that is in Lebanon will multiply” (Ps. 91:13): others bear spiritual fruits like a fruitful olive: “I am like a fruitful olive in the house of God” (Ps. 51:10); and others, having already achieved perfect life, are, as it were, Angels in the flesh and decorate the holy monastery, just as the likenesses of dates, cedars and olives decorated the Church of Solomon. So, this holy monastery is similar to Solomon’s church. And all this spiritual building is strengthened and confirmed by its head, the high in God His Grace, Mr. Father Archimandrite, our father and shepherd. For on it, as on a pillar, the whole building truly rests, everyone looks at it, and all orders, all rank, established by it, stand unshakably. Strengthened this spiritual church, the Pechersk monastery, the spiritual pillar, the archimandrite who died in God, supported it, like the second Atlas, even in times when the holy monastery experienced the greatest internal and external battles taking place in the Fatherland. He was a strength for everyone, and especially bore the infirmities of the sheep entrusted to him, being one of those to whom it was said: “You who are strong must bear the infirmities of those who are powerless” (Rom. 15:1). Listening to his teaching words, the weak were strengthened by them, like medicine; looking at his virtuous life, each of the brethren was built up and supported, as if on a pillar. Seeing his fatherly mercy towards himself, he stayed close to him, like a vine near its stake, and, following him like a sheep following its shepherd, fed from him with sufficient spiritual food. On the pillars there are usually some kind of signs for eternal memory. Thus, on the Roman pillars there were images of the Roman Caesars. On the Alexandrov pillars there were inscriptions in memory of his victories. The pyramids of the Maccabees had ships and weapons. Stone sheaves were placed on Joseph's tomb in memory of his feeding the land of Egypt during a famine. On the pillar of David there are shields and arrows: “A thousand shields hang on it, and all the arrows of mighty men” (Song. 4:4). Finally, the pillars in Solomon's church, as stated above, were decorated with golden nets, lilies and apples. And this pillar of the Church of Christ, deceased in God, exalted in God, His Grace Father Archimandrite of Pechersk, had in his life, and now has in our memory signs, but not in the likeness of any other pillars, but in the likeness of the pillars of the wise Solomon, who stood in the Holy of Holies. With the gaze of our memory, we can see on this mental pillar the golden networks that serve as his wise teaching. Wisdom in Holy Scripture is called a river and a sea, as, for example, it says about itself in Sirach: “It saturates with wisdom, like Pison, fills with understanding, like the Euphrates and like the Jordan in the days of harvest”; and below: “My labors were a river to me, and my river was a sea to me” (Sir. 24:27–28, 34). Teachings, like rivers and the sea in inexhaustible wisdom, are nets, as St. Damascus says, addressing the apostles: “With the net of your teachings you have caught the universe.” Our father, who died in God, was skilled in such fishing, for from a young age he began to catch verbal fish with a net of teaching, bringing them to reason. I know well that, having drunk from the waters of wisdom from different rivers, from different, I say, schools, where and across seas he traveled, he first began to teach diligently at the Kyiv Brotherhood School. And here, as many students as he taught in their blooming youth and showed to be skilled in wisdom, he caught just as many small fish for Christ. Then he began to catch large fish in the depths, when from the pulpit he stretched out a whole net of preaching the word of God about the kingdom of God and thereby caught people, directing them to humility and piety. Even further, he entered into the depths of the nets of teaching, when, both as rector and as abbess, he prepared the fish swimming in the waters of spiritual wisdom for the table of Christ, not only by word, but also by life, useful in monasticism, by purity, poverty and obedience. Most of all, he spread his spiritual nets deeper when, for his high virtues, he was elevated to a most honorable place in this holy monastery, to the archimandry. Here he so embellished the networks of his wise teaching with the gold of great diligence, labors and exploits that I can safely say about him: “On the pillar of the golden sand of our spiritual pillar he decorated the network,” and the network is not simple, but golden. For the words of useful teaching, like threads in a network, are connected one to another and become a great network. Great teaching, supported by the very deeds of the teaching words, is pure gold, and verbal fish are caught not so much by a simple net as by a golden net. People, I say, benefit not so much from the spoken words as from the good deeds of their teacher and from his virtuous life. Perhaps someone will say that the shepherd who died in God, having ascended to the high honor of power, especially in this holy monastery, did not ascend to the pulpit and did not deliver sermons. To such I will answer: this wise fisher of Christ caught more by his own good deed than anyone else by word; He taught more by his pious life than anyone else by preaching; brought more benefit in silence than anyone else verbose, for the voice of deeds is louder and more effective than the voice of words. May you be a capable speaker, like the second Demosthenes, may you be a reasonable philosopher, like the second Aristotle, may you be sweet-tongued, like the second Cicero, but without good deeds you will never do what tongue-tied Moses did with his good deeds. They did not catch anyone for heaven, and they themselves got stuck in their nets: “The sinner is stuck in his net” (Ps. 9:16-17), but this one, by his service before God in good deeds, as if with a net, drew all Israel from the Red Sea to dry land. If you reason wisely but live foolishly, teach good but live in evil, teach others but become corrupt yourself, how much time will you have? God said to the sinner: “Why do you preach My statutes and keep My covenant in your mouth, for you have hated instruction” (Ps. 49:16–17). It is not for nothing that the holy Theologian, when a book was given to him from heaven, was commanded to immediately eat it: “Take the book and eat it” (Rev. 10:9). Why is he commanded to eat the book? Is it not enough for a teacher to have a book with him, carry and read it, and teach others from it? Not enough. The teacher must first of all eat the book himself, that is, be a diligent follower of God's law, full of good deeds, and then teach others. It is not enough to have a network of science, but it is necessary to have gold for the network, that is, good disciples, if you want to be recorded with God for your word. Our now-mentioned father and shepherd truly had golden nets, had wise science with good deeds, first catching him with a simple net, then, when he reached perfect age, having become a perfect man before God and people, his spiritual catch was carried out with a golden net. We also see golden lilies on that spiritual pillar, as it is said in the books of Kings: “On the pillars of laying were crowns made like a lily flower” (1 Kings 7:19). May I be allowed to call the poor and the alms given to the poor lilies. The Lord Himself, wanting His servants to be poor in spirit, commanded them to look at the lilies and become like them: “Look at the lilies of the field, how they grow” (Matthew 6:28). A poor and wretched person is truly a lily of the field, a flower of the field, who has no place to lay his head, and even if he has any hut, then in it, as in a field, “there is somewhere to sit, but nothing to eat.” Therefore, without exaggeration, a wretched person can be called a lily. Alms given to the poor is also a lily! God Himself called lily flowers a kind of clothing: this is how God dresses the grass of the field and says that “not even Solomon in all his glory” (Matthew 6:29–30) wore such clothing. Who was wearing the clothes? His beloved, co-reigning with Him, about whom He speaks in the Song of Songs: “Like the lily, so is My beloved” (Song. 2:2). What kind of clothes are these, decorated with lilies? This is truly holy alms, done by the poor, as evidenced by the blessed deacon Agapit, who in a letter to King Justinian says this: “Clothing that does not wear out is a robe of charity, and an incorruptible robe is love for the poor, therefore, he who wants to reign piously should adorn his soul with such clothes, for he who is dressed in the purple of poverty is awarded the heavenly kingdom.” Alms, he says, is the only purple in which the person who reigns with Christ is dressed, and such purple, such a robe is made from lilies of the field, and not from lilies of the garden. For there is no small difference between the lilies growing in the field and the lilies growing in the garden. The garden lily is protected by a fence, and not everyone can freely approach it, unless only one gentleman or an invited guest. And everyone can get started with the lily of the field: anyone who wants to pick it, and it will delight his eyes with its beauty and its scent. Therefore, Christ the Lord, when He wanted to call Himself a flower, He did not call Himself a flower growing in the garden, but a flower growing in the field: “I am the flower of the field and the lily of the valleys” (Song 2:1) - and this so that everyone would know that to Him, as to a flower growing in the field, there is unrestricted access for everyone: both for great people and for small children. “Do not forbid,” He says, “the children to come to Me” (Luke 18:16). Therefore, the purple of alms is made from the lilies of the field, and not from the garden lilies, of the person who reigns with Christ, that is, from estates generously distributed, and not from withheld by stinginess. For there are those who hide their possessions, like lilies in a garden, in boxes, in vessels, and no one has access to them except the master alone, and even the villains who sometimes get to them. Such people cannot clothe themselves in the purple of the heavenly kingdom. But there are others who plant these lilies, estates, I say, their own, in the open field, that is, in the hands of the poor, and such deserve for themselves an incorruptible robe, ever-blooming with glory in heaven. Do you acknowledge, your Lordship, that the now-remembered Most Excellent Father Archimandrite abundantly planted estate lilies in the field - in the hands of the poor, that he was a generous giver of alms, that this spiritual pillar was decorated with a lily flower, as if some kind of purple, for he was so merciful to the poor that he was called the second John the Merciful. His ornament was to give generously to the poor, his consolation was to feed the hungry, his lilies were to clothe the naked. I give up my place here to you, lilies of the field, to you, I say, wretched, crippled, poor, wandering: you praise your benefactor for alms, you please your nourisher for his mercy, you exalt your comforter in troubles for his generosity, remember, crown with verbal lilies - praises worthy of memory! He was a father to the orphans, who did not despise even the least, and looked at them with a gentle eye. He was a shepherd for the sheep, who cared about feeding well even the poorest sheep. He was a benefactor from whom no one left empty-handed: Blessed is the generous and giving; Blessed is the merciful, for he (in hope of God) will receive mercy (see Matthew 5:7). For alms done will truly never be lost, but will always be found in heaven. Ecclesiastes advises: “Cast your bread into the water, for after many days you will find it” (Eccl. 11:1–2). What are these waters into which he advises throwing bread so that later you can find it and use it? Truly, these are no other waters than poor people, according to the words of the Theologian: “The waters that you saw are people and nations” (Rev. 17:15). Bread thrown into these waters, that is, good done to one's neighbor, help to the poor, alms to the poor, after many days of earthly life, will be found in the waters that are higher than heaven. Once upon a time in Rome, a certain ancient coffin was found with a stone rolled over it, apparently belonging to some noble person. In this coffin, near the bones, a tablet was found on which the following words were written in two lines: “I have exhausted, I have given, I have preserved, I had, I have, I have destroyed.” What these words meant, no one could understand. They called together the wise people who happened to be there at that time, and after a long discussion they came to a single agreement and interpreted these words as follows: “What I exhausted, I had; I have what I gave; what he saved, he destroyed.” That is, the dead man in that letter seemed to be saying to the living: only what I did good to someone during my life, what I gave to the one who asked, the needy, I found after my death, only that was not lost from me, only that I have forever; nevertheless, everything that was spent in life, put into a box, locked in a storehouse, kept in the ground - all this was lost, and I have no profit from it: “What I gave, I have; what he saved, he destroyed.” But who can doubt that our father, who died in God, has now found in heaven everything that during his lifetime he distributed to the poor? The bread of holy alms, thrown “into the water,” that is, given to the poor, he found “on still waters” (Ps. 23:2), found grace from God, and like the Roman dead man now tells us: “What I gave, I have,” - what I depleted to the poor, I have from God; what I distributed on earth, I gather up in heaven; what I gave to the crippled, I now receive a hundredfold and inherit eternal life. Finally, we can see on our spiritual pillar gilded apples, which serve as its good deeds, for good deeds are meant in the Holy Scriptures by the fruits of a tree. Thus, Saint David foresaw about the blessed man: “He will be like a tree that gives its fruit in its season” (Ps. 1:3). That is why the beloved speaks about her Beloved in the Song of Songs: “As an apple tree among the trees, so is my brother” (Song. 2:3). The apples of our departed father of blessed memory are his good deeds. How great their number is, we cannot know; only God Himself, “who numbers the multitude of stars” (Ps. 146:4), knows the number of these fruits. The prophet Jeremiah counts fifty pomegranate apples near the crowns on the pillars of Solomon. I do not dare to count the spiritual fruits of this mental tree and mental pillar of the Church of God, for I will not be able to count them, and I will not have enough time for the story. And who can count and reveal his hidden deeds, known only to God, such as: the mortification of the body, all-night prayers, constant sighing to God, lifting up the eyes, heart and hands? Oh, if only the places where he labored could tell about this: if his cell and monastery could tell how much time this devout archimandrite spent in diligent prayers, how many drops of tears he shed before God, how many times he hit his chest like a publican, how many great but humble bows he made! But all this is already clearly rewarded to him along with all those who labored well, for the Scripture says: “Pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father, who sees in secret, will reward you openly” (Matthew 6:6). In ancient times, crowns were laid on the pillars. In imitation of this, Solomon in the Church of the Holy of Holies laid crowns on the pillars, for golden nets were made around like crowns, and circles of lilies and apples were laid in the form of crowns, as the prophet Jeremiah mentions this: “Apples on crowns in a circle” (Jer. 52:22). Truly this spiritual pillar of ours is worthy to be crowned. For his great wisdom with a golden net, he is worthy of a crown of unfading laurel. For excellent almsgiving in the presence of lily flowers, he is worthy of a golden crown. For all his high virtues, he is worthy that we all, with our prayers, ask God for the crown that the apostle expects: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith; But now there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me on that day” (2 Tim. 4:7–8). Saint Jerome mentions the ancient custom of the Romans to shower the coffins of dead people with roses, violets and other various purple flowers. Others say that they laid crowns of flowers on the dead, as if crowning the course of their life at its end. Likewise, here at the tomb of our lord, father and shepherd, who is now remembered in blessed memory and reposed in his mercy, I see woven and scattered flowers. When the Lord Archimandrite, high in God and most exalted by his grace, with their most exalted graces, the fathers and abbots of Kyiv, and with all the fathers and brethren, will stand, according to church custom, around this sad hearse, surrounding it, then this will be a crown, and when the brothers begin to sing funeral hymns, it will be flowers. And now, when such an eminent circle of servants stands in the Divine Altar near the Sacrifice for the soul of the deceased, this is a crown, and when they say prayers for the repose of his soul, these are flowers. When your favor surrounds this coffin with its presence, this is a crown, and when you say: “Remember, Lord, in blessed memory the reposed Archimandrite Innocent,” these are flowers. When the poor in large numbers surround the tomb of their benefactor, this is a crown, and when they exclaim with tears: “Our father and benefactor is gone!” - these are flowers. And if one of the brothers, remembering the love of his father, crosses the rope (rosary) of throwing (bows) for him on his rule in his cell, this will be a crown; he will sigh once and again to God for him, and it will be flowers. So, our spiritual pillar has crowns and flowers at its tomb. Thus, having placed a pyramid or pillar of spiritual materials at the tomb of the archimandrite deceased in God - in words of remembrance - we will write on it the words of Sirach: “The memory of him will not perish, and his name will live on for generations and generations; the nations will glorify his wisdom, and the Church will confess his praise” (Sir. 39:12–13). On the pillar of his monastic life we ​​will write: “The memory of him will not perish”; His exemplary life will long be remembered not only in this monastery, but also in all Russian monasteries and lay people, looking at which, like a bright candle, everyone will benefit from it, and through this the memory of him will not depart from the holy monastery, and he himself will always be remembered in the hearts and lips of all the brethren in church and cell prayers and in conversations imbued with love. On the golden net of his wisdom let us write the words: “The nations will glorify his wisdom.” On the alms lilies we will write: “His name will live for generations and generations”; The poor will remember their benefactor for a long time. On the apples of virtues we will write: “The Church confesses his praise,” for for his good deeds he truly deserves to be praised in the church, as the Apostle says: “Glory, and honor, and peace to everyone who does good” (Rom. 2:10); worthy that his memory, like a crown of flowers, should be woven from our praises to him: “The memory of the righteous is with praise” (Prov. 10:7). Finishing the work we started, let me remind you of another custom of the ancient people, who, when placing a good and famous person in the coffin, his friends, servants, peers and friends, having made a heart out of gold or silver or from another metal, or molded it from wax, put it in the coffin and buried it with him, and this is a sign of heartfelt love for him even after death, as if saying: “As during your life we heartily loved you, so and after death we do not cease to love you, and although you are with us, and we are separated from you physically, our heart is inseparable from you; We bury you with our hearts, wanting the memory of you not to die, but to remain forever in our loving hearts.” Now that our reposed father and shepherd, now remembered in blessed memory, has gone to his grave, I do not want to talk about who and what kind of heart is buried with him: whether it was made from the gold of love, or from the silver of affection, or from some other metal of the feelings of the heart. I will only say what is known, that the successor of the deceased, the high in God, His Grace, Father Varlaam Yasinsky, Archimandrite of this holy Lavra, our father and shepherd, is buried by his predecessor, His Grace’s most Excellent Father Innocent Gisel, Archimandrite of Pechersk, with a heart created as if from wax, spreading with his heart in zeal contrition about him and saying with David: “My heart has become like melting wax in the midst of my belly” (Ps. 21:15). He is buried by such a heart so that the memory of him, like a seal depicted on wax, will always remain unforgettable, for, as you know, with extreme regret he remembers the unspeakable love and mercy of his father towards himself - he, who knew his great benefits, received his sovereign favor, had pleasant conversations with him for many years and was comforted by him, and therefore hears his voice telling him in the words of Scripture: “Put me as a seal on your heart” (Song. 8:6) in an unforgettable memory, as he puts it in his heart. For, remembering his father and benefactor, he responds with the words of David: “Let my right hand be forgotten, my tongue stick to my throat, if I do not remember you, if I do not set you as the height of my joy” (Ps. 137:5-6). With the same heart, the entire holy monastery of Pechersk buries its father and steward and, performing an annual memorial to him, proclaims: “Highly exalted lord in God, Father Innocent, our father and shepherd! May we have an eternal memory for you, like the memory of Josiah in Sirach, who says: “The memory of Josiah (and we will say: Innocent) is like the composition of incense prepared by the art of the world-maker! In every mouth it will be sweet, like honey and like music when drinking wine" (Sir. 49:1-2)." May you and the entire Russian Church have eternal memory, like the Israelis have the memory of Moses, about whom the same Sirach says: “Moses is beloved by God and people (and we will say: Innocent is beloved by God and people), and his memory is in blessings; likened him to the glory of the saints” (Sir. 45:1–2). May you have eternal memory in heaven together with our venerable and God-bearing fathers Anthony, Theodosius and the other Pechersk fathers, and may you always hear there such a greeting as was once said by the Angel to the merciful Cornelius: “Cornelius! Your prayers and your alms have come as a memorial before God” (Acts 10:3–4). Innocent! All your prayers that you offered during your life have been heard, and all the alms that you have done generously are now remembered before God, and if you have boldness before Him, do not forget to remember us before Him. May you have eternal memory with us on earth, and may we have eternal memory with you in heaven before God! Amen.