October 5, 2006
Zhytomyr
Dear Friends and Family,
Greetings from
(For more photos, click here.)
I've been here a short time, and I'm reconnecting with so many old friends whom I met when I was in the Peace Corps. One of the first things I did was go to a memorial service for a priest whom I met three years ago, Fr. Seraphim.
I met him through random circumstances and he introduced me to a group of his choir members who decided to take me on a trip across
Father Seraphim was the fiestiest priest I've know. Within the first 15 minutes of meeting him, he was demanding to know my life's story while at the same time stuffing me full of strawberries and encouraging me to go with him to Pochaev, a monastery in
When you confessed a problem or a failing to him, he'd get all stirred up and tell you what your little bad habit could lead to, and would very enthusiastically tell you how much better things could be. He did this not to condemn or accuse -- rather, he was advertising aggressively for Heaven. He reminded me a great deal of his patron saint, Seraphim of Sarov because he greeted people with "Khristos Voskress!" (Christ is Risen), a greeting usually reserved for the first forty days after Easter. He did this at any time of the year. Also, he trimmed his beard the same way that St. Seraphim is shown in the icons.
The one other priest I knew who could get this fired up during Confession was Father Viktor Sokolov, and he did this near the end of his life with an oxygen tank in tow. He passed away on March 16, 2006.
Father Seraphim, a monk who'd been the priest at Holy Dormition Cathedral for 14 years, passed away after a long battle with an illness. He died on August 27 at the age of 43.
October 5 is the fortieth day after this passing, and the memorial service on that day equals the funeral itself in importance for Orthodox Christians. As Christians, we bear in our bodies the suffering of Christ so that we might also have his life manifest in our bodies. After Christ's death, burial and Resurrection, He remained with the Apostles for 40 days before He ascended. As such such, the fortieth day after a Christian's death is very important as we pray for his smooth entrance into the
In the case of Father Seraphim, he got about 1,000 people there at his Panikhida for that purpose, including a collection of friends whom I hadn't seen in three years. (I had kind of worried them back in 2003 when I abruptly disappeared from the Pochaev monastery after I'd gotten freaked out by some... stuff that happened. Again this is part of the 38 page version of that trip. All seemed to be forgiven, and they were very happy to see me.)
Before the actual memorial service could begin, the archbishop and eight priests and a deacon celebrated the Divine Liturgy. The archbishop was Father Seraphim's brother by birth, and another of his brothers, a priest, was service. The deacon was Fr. Seraphim's twin brother.
Given the manner in which they served Liturgy, I would not have guessed that anyone was dead. They didn't mope around, nor did they go around with fake smiles to conceal their grief. They served in the same steady tone that they would have if Fr. Seraphim had never left.
When I first became Orthodox, the sternness and solemnity of our church services kind of scared me (will I got to hell if I sneeze during the liturgy?) but now I'm glad that no one mood -- grief or joy -- is dominant in Orthodox worship. The Divine Liturgy is a re-entry both into the death and the Resurrection of Christ -- grief and joy. You can feel safe
To tell the truth, I was in a very good mood at the service, delighted that I'd been able to make it. I bought my tickets to
Father Lavr, a priest from Pochaev came out the Royal Doors with the Holy Gifts and people lined up for Holy Communion. I was glad to see him because we'd had some sharp words in 2003 when I last saw him. He solemnly recited the Old Church Slavonic prayer "The servant of God _____ received the Body and Blood of Christ for the remission of sins and unto life everlasting." When I came up, he stopped, smiled and said, "Do you speak English," which I think is one of the few phrases he knows in English
(If you're not Orthodox, the significance of this is a little difficult to explain. When it comes to getting funny while serving Communion, priests just . . . don't. In fact, I think it's the first time I've ever seen it.)
At the end of the liturgy, we went outside for the Panikhida. Father Seraphim is buried directly outside the church, and archbishop (whose name and see are completely unpronounceable) circled the grave censing and praying. The choir sang "Vechnaya Pomiat" again and again. (Memory Eternal).
At the end of the memorial service, one of the priests announced that everyone was encouraged to come to a memorial luncheon in the basement of the nearby Holy Transfiguration Cathedral. As he announced this, a little girl walked around distributing candy from a small basket she was carrying.
If there's one thing that you get from this lengthy e-mail, let it be this: If you get invited to a Slavic funeral, EAT! The meal after a funeral or Panikhida is always well-attended, signifcant and delicious.
So many people came to the meal that they had to do it in shifts. The small army of women who prepared the meal had no problem re-setting the talbes and getting the food out to eat (of which there was way too much). When I got to the meal, the first shift was already seated, so there was plenty of time to talk, and lots of people did want to talk. Now, I felt like a Peace Corps volunteer again. For many of them, I was the first real, live American they'd talked to. For all of them except Father Lavr, who once took a miracle-working icon to St. Tikhon's Monastery in
There was a group of eighth graders who were the students of Svetlana Vaselievna, my friend. Svetlana is a choir member at the church where Fr. Seraphim served, and she invited Fr. Seraphim to the classroom several times. Also, she and Fr. Seraphim took the children on pilgrimages to Pochaev several times. They lined up three deep around me asking me questions in English about
I also was found by a rather nervous English teacher at the local pedagogical university, Galina. I was the first native speaker she'd ever met, and she wanted to practice with me. She invited me to visit the university to talk with her students. She bemoaned the fact that the students never had the opportunity to talk with a native speaker. I explained that I used to be a teacher of English as a foreign language, and that the Peace Corps sent English teachers to universities such as hers to live and work for two years. That perked her up, and I gave her the address of the Peace Corps office in Kyiv.
I told the children about Joy of All Who Sorrow Cathedral in
The first shift of lunch ended, and we were able to go in to eat. On my way in, the ladies gave me the papers -- lists of names of the living and dead to be read over the relics of
The archbishop led us in the blessing of the food, and we sat down to a feast of meats, vegetables, bread, cakes, olives, fish, cutlets, candy and a few items I couldn't identify, but were tasty nonetheless. I sat next to Sergei, a cheerful fellow in his 50s who was very kind to me and asked me a bunch of tactless questions about
Five years ago, I'd have gotten mad, but having been through the experience a few times, I knew how to deflect the questions:
Sergei: "What do you like better? Here or Capitalism? Are you a Capitalist? Are your parents Capitalists?"
Me, singing: "Soyuz nerushimi, Respbulic Svobodykh..." (this is the Soviet National Anthem. It earned me some laughs.)
Sergei: Why does Bush make war everywhere?
Me: I take it by your question that you are the older brother of Vladimir Putin, and you can call him up any time and tell him what to do?
Sergei: Why is
Me: How should I know? I'm a boy, not a prophet.
Three more ladies gave me slips of paper to take back to
We stood up to read the Thanksgiving prayers. Another lady, very insistent, urged me to visit a local monastery where a clairvoyant nun, Mother Raphael, had lived until she died a year ago. She wanted me to go with her right then, Also, there I could see the icon, "Joy Of All Who Sorrow."
I said that I might go later, but that I wanted to see more of my friends whom I had made three years ago. She urged me about five more times. (I'm sure that this monastery would open a whole new story better than this e-mail, but alas, I am only one person, and I had only one day in Zhytomyr.)
Another two ladies gave me memorial slips. I left the cathedral, and the eighth graders found me and asked me to the park with them to eat ice cream. They escorted me on to the trolleybus and continued to pepper me with questions.
Fr. Lavr soon showed up in a car and t
ook out a bag full of ice cream and led the children in the "Our Father." He distributed the ice cream and brought out several bottles of champagne for the adults. (There were only four adults.) After the first glass, I tried to refuse the second by saying, "I am too big for you to carry home," which drew a burst of
Fr. Lavr suggested I lead the children in a nature lesson in English, telling them about the trees. I didn't know anything about the trees, but I took them on a history tour, going to the beach of the river and explaining, "This is where the Cossacks (Ukraninian national heroes) had their third Sich (council). They brought their wives, who invented a new dish they called vareniki. Don't you feel honored to be standing on the birthplace of the national dish of
"No!" They all shouted and laughed.
The party at the park ended, and the kids took me back to the trolleybus stop, and we went back to the city center. At Holy Dormition Cathedral, I found Fr. Seraphim's twin brother, who asked me to put the departed priest's name on the prayer list at the cathedral where the relics of
"For now, no. Father Seraphim was really, really against schisms. Please, one of Metropolitan Herman's churches."
I would add here that Metropolitan Herman has become a very popular guy here in recent years. His visit in 2003 to Kyiv and Pochaev was well-appreciated among the faithful. When I first came in 2001, it took quite a bit of explaining to make priests understand that there is an Orthodox Church in
From there, I went to the bus station (another lady found me and gave me a list of names to take to
When I used to write travel journals when I was a Peace Corps volunteer, I'd come up with some final summarizing paragraph explaining my amazement at everything that had occurred, at the strangeness of feeling like a celebrity, etc... and I don't mean to sound conceited, but this is pretty much what expected to happen.
A few final thoughts -- if you've gotten this far into this very lengthy missive, you're probably wondering what inspired me to fly all this way. No, I didn't bump my head and join the Peace Corps again – I still work for the Raphael House family shelter in
Pray for me!
In Christ,
Thomas Eric Ruthford
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