FIRST TRY
I went to the monastery several times. The first desire arose when I was 14 years old. Then I lived in Minsk, was a first-year student of a music school. I just started going to church and asked to sing in the church choir of the cathedral. In a shop in one of the Minsk churches, I accidentally came across a detailed life of the Monk Seraphim of Sarov - a thick book, about 300 pages. I read it in one fell swoop and immediately wanted to follow the example of the saint.
Soon I had the opportunity to visit several Belarusian and Russian monasteries as a guest and pilgrim. In one of them, I became friends with the brethren, which at that time consisted of only two monks and one novice. Since then, I periodically came to this monastery to live. For various reasons, including because of my young age, in those years I did not manage to fulfill my dream.
The second time I thought about monasticism was years later. For several years I have been choosing between different monasteries - from St. Petersburg to Georgian mountain monasteries. I went there on a visit, looked closely. Finally I chose the Holy Elias Monastery of the Odessa Diocese of the Moscow Patriarchate, where I entered as a novice. By the way, we met his governor and talked for a long time before a real meeting in one of the social networks.
MONASTERY LIFE
Having crossed the threshold of the monastery with things, I realized that my worries and doubts were behind me: I am at home, now a difficult, but understandable and bright life, full of spiritual exploits, awaits me. It was quiet happiness.
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The monastery is located in the very center of the city. We could freely leave the territory for a short time. It was even possible to go to the sea, but for a longer absence it was necessary to obtain permission from the governor or dean. If you need to leave the city, permission had to be in writing. The fact is that there are so many deceivers who put on vestments and pretend to be clergy, monks or novices, but at the same time have nothing to do with the clergy or monasticism. These people go to cities and villages, collect donations. The permission from the monastery was a kind of shield: almost, without any problems, it was possible to prove that you were your own, real.
In the monastery itself I had a separate cell, and for this I am grateful to the governor. Most of the novices and even some of the monks lived in twos. All amenities were on the floor. The building was always clean and tidy. This was monitored by the civilian workers of the monastery: cleaners, laundresses and other employees. All household needs were satisfied in abundance: we were well fed in the fraternal refectory, they turned a blind eye to the fact that we also had our own food in our cells.
I felt great joy when something delicious was served in the refectory! For example, red fish, caviar, good wine. Meat products were not consumed in the common refectory, but we were not forbidden to eat them. Therefore, when I managed to buy something outside the monastery and drag it to my cell, I was also happy. Without a holy dignity, there were few opportunities to earn money on his own. For example, they paid, it seems, 50 hryvnia for ringing bells during a wedding. This was enough either to put it on the phone, or to buy something tasty. More serious needs were provided at the expense of the monastery.
We got up at 5:30, with the exception of Sundays and major church holidays (on such days two or three liturgies were served, and each got up depending on which liturgy he wanted or had to attend or serve on schedule). At 6:00 the morning monastic prayer rule began. All the brethren were to be present at it, except for the sick, absent, and so on. Then, at 7:00, the liturgy began, for which the serving priest, deacon and the sexton on duty stayed without fail. The rest are optional.
At this time, I either went to the office for obedience, or returned to my cell to sleep for a few more hours. At 9 or 10 o'clock in the morning (I don’t remember exactly) there was breakfast, which was optional. At 13 or 14 o'clock there was a dinner with the obligatory presence of all the brethren. At dinner, the lives of the saints, whose memory was commemorated that day, were read, and important announcements were made by the monastery authorities. At 17 o'clock, the evening service began, after which there was dinner and the evening monastic prayer rule. The time for going to bed was not regulated in any way, but if the next morning someone from the brethren woke up the rule, they sent him to him with a special invitation.
Once I had a chance to serve a funeral service for a hieromonk. He was very young. A little older than me. I didn’t know him during his lifetime. They say he lived in our monastery, then he left somewhere and flew under the ban. So he died. But the funeral was, of course, like a priest. So, all the brethren around the clock read the Psalter at the grave. I was on duty once at night. In the temple there was only a coffin with a body and me. And so for several hours, until the next one replaced me. There was no fear, although Gogol recalled several times, yes. Was there pity? I do not even know. Neither life nor death is in our hands, so regret - do not regret … I only hoped that he had time to repent before dying. As well as each of us will have to be in time.
LISTENER RENTALS
On Easter, after a long fast, I got so hungry that, without waiting for the general festive meal, I ran across the road to McDonald's. Right in the cassock! I and everyone else had such an opportunity, and no one made any comments. By the way, many, leaving the monastery, changed into civilian clothes. I never parted with vestments. While I was living in the monastery, I simply did not have any secular clothes at all, except for jackets and pants, which had to be worn under a cassock in cold weather so as not to freeze.
In the monastery itself, one of the novices' amusements was fantasizing about who would be given a name during the tonsure. Usually, until the last moment, only the one who tonsures the tonsure and the ruling bishop knows him. The novice himself only learns about his new name under the scissors, so we joked: we found the most exotic church names and called each other with them.
And punishment
For systematic delays, they could bow down, in the most difficult cases - on the solea (a place next to the altar) in front of the parishioners, but this was done extremely rarely and always reasonably.
Sometimes someone left without permission for several days. Once it was done by a priest. They returned him with the help of the governor directly by phone. But again, all such cases were like childish pranks in a large family. Parents can scold, but nothing more.
There was a funny incident with one worker. A laborer is a layman, a secular person who has come to the monastery to work. He does not belong to the brethren of the monastery and does not have any obligations to the monastery, except for general church and general civil obligations (do not kill, do not steal, and more). At any moment the worker can leave, or, on the contrary, become a novice and follow the monastic path. So, one worker was put on the checkpoint of the monastery. A friend came to the governor and said: "What is your cheap parking in the monastery!" And it's generally free there! It turned out that this very employee was taking money from visitors for parking. He, of course, was strongly reprimanded for this, but they did not kick him out.
THE MOST DIFFICULT
When I only came to visit, the governor warned me that real life in the monastery is different from what is written in the lives and other books. Preparing me to take off my rose-colored glasses. That is, to some extent, I was warned about some negative things that might take place, but I was not ready for everything.
As in any other organization, there are, of course, very different people in the monastery. There were also those who tried to curry favor with their superiors, were arrogant before the brothers, and so on. For example, once a hieromonk came to us, who was under a ban. This means that the ruling bishop temporarily (usually until repentance) forbade him to act as a punishment for some kind of offense, but the priesthood itself was not removed. This father and I were the same age and at first became friends, communicated on spiritual topics. Once he even drew a kind caricature of me. I still keep it at home.
The closer it got to the lifting of the ban, the more I noticed that he was behaving with me more and more arrogantly. He was appointed assistant to the sacristan (the sacristan is responsible for all liturgical vestments), and I was a sexton, that is, during the performance of my duties, I was directly subordinate to both the sacristan and his assistant. And here, too, it became noticeable how he began to treat me differently, but the apotheosis was his demand to turn to him on you after the ban was lifted from him.
For me, the most difficult not only in monastic life, but also in worldly life are subordination and labor discipline. In the monastery, it was absolutely impossible to communicate on equal terms with the fathers of higher rank or position. The hand of the authorities was visible always and everywhere. This is not only and not always a governor or dean. It could be the same sacristan and anyone who is above you in the monastic hierarchy. Whatever happened, no later than an hour later they knew about it at the very top.
Although there were those among the brethren with whom I perfectly found a common language, despite not only the huge distance in the hierarchical structure, but also the solid age difference. Once I came home on vacation and really wanted to get an appointment with the then Metropolitan of Minsk Filaret. I thought about my future fate and really wanted to consult with him. We often met when I was taking my first steps in church, but I was not sure if he would remember me and accept me. It so happened that there were many venerable Minsk priests in the queue: rectors of large churches, archpriests. And then the Metropolitan comes out, points his hand at me and calls me into his office. Ahead of all abbots and archpriests!
He listened to me attentively, then talked at length about his monastic experience. I talked for a very long time. When I left the office, the whole line of archpriests and abbots looked at me very much, and one abbot, who was familiar from the old days, took it and told me in front of everyone: "Well, you stayed there so long that you had to leave with panagia." … Panagia is such an insignia worn by bishops and above. The queue laughed, there was a relaxation of tension, but the Metropolitan's secretary then swore very much that I had taken the Metropolitan's time for so long.
TOURISM AND EMIGRATION
Months passed, and absolutely nothing happened to me in the monastery. I very much desired tonsure, ordination and further service in the priesthood. I will not hide the fact that I also had bishop's ambitions. If at the age of 14 I longed for ascetic monasticism and complete withdrawal from the world, then when I was 27 years old, one of the main motives for entering the monastery was the episcopal consecration. Even in my thoughts, I constantly imagined myself in the bishop's office and in the bishop's vestments. One of my main obediences in the monastery was working in the office of the governor. Documents for the ordination of some seminarians and other proteges (candidates for the priesthood), as well as for monastic tonsure in our monastery, passed through the office.
Many henchmen and candidates for monastic tonsure passed through me. Some, before my very eyes, went from layman to hieromonk and received appointments to parishes. With me, as I said, absolutely nothing happened! In general, it seemed to me that the governor, who was also my confessor, to some extent alienated me from himself. Before entering the monastery, we were friends and communicated. When I came to the monastery as a guest, he constantly took me with him on trips. When I arrived at the same monastery with my things, at first it seemed to me that the governor had been replaced. “Don't confuse tourism and emigration,” some brothers joked. Largely because of this, I decided to leave. If I had not felt that the governor had changed his attitude towards me, or if I had at least understood the reason for such changes, perhaps I would have stayed in the monastery. And so I felt unnecessary in this place.
FROM SCRATCH
I had access to the Internet, I could consult on any issues with very experienced clergy. I told everything about myself: what I want, what I don’t want, what I feel, what I’m ready for, and what I don’t. Two priests advised me to leave.
I left with great disappointment, with a grudge against the governor. But I do not regret anything and am very grateful to the monastery and the brethren for the experience gained. When I was leaving, the governor told me that he could have tonsured me into monasticism five times, but something was stopping him.
When he left, there was no fear. There was such a leap into the unknown, a sense of freedom. This is what happens when you finally make a decision that feels right.
I started my life completely from scratch. When I decided to leave the monastery, I had not only civilian clothes, but also money. There was nothing at all except a guitar, a microphone, an amplifier, and my personal library. I brought her with me from worldly life. These were mainly church books, but there were also secular ones. The first I agreed to sell through the monastery shop, the second I took to the city book market and sold there. So I got some money. Several friends also helped - they sent me money orders.
The abbot of the monastery gave money for a one-way ticket (we finally made up with him. Vladyka is a wonderful person and a good monk. Communicating with him even once every few years is a great joy). I had a choice where to go: either to Moscow, or to Minsk, where I lived, studied and worked for many years, or in Tbilisi, where I was born. I chose the latter option and within a few days I was on the ship that was taking me to Georgia.
Friends met me in Tbilisi. They also helped to rent an apartment and start a new life. Four months later I returned to Russia, where I have been living permanently to this day. After a long journey, I finally found my place right here. Today I have my own small business: I am an individual entrepreneur, I provide translation and interpretation services, as well as legal services. I remember the life of the monastery with warmth.