The Young Novice of the Iona Monastery

The childhood of Father Spyridon (Kirill Nikolayevich Lukich) was spent in Kyiv and was overshadowed by the events of the First World War. His father was taken to the front, and after his return, when an epidemic of typhus was raging, the head of the family fell ill and died. The difficult circumstances of the family made it impossible for Kirill to continue his studies at the Sixth Kyiv Gymnasium. Having studied there for only three years, he asked his mother, Maria Sergeyevna, to let him go to a monastery.

In 1921, the twelve-year-old Kirill celebrated Pascha already as a novice of the Holy Trinity Iona Monastery in Kyiv. There, under the guidance of the renowned artist Ivan Sidorovich Yizhakevich, he served his obedience in the Painting Workshop, which at the same time functioned as a school for boys. During the summer months, he also worked alongside the entire brotherhood in the common agricultural obediences.

In addition, Kirill Lukich became the closest assistant to Schema-monk Vissarion, who had previously been the cell-attendant of the monastery’s founder, St Jonah of Kyiv. The elder was already advanced in years, but he remembered Father Jonah well and often spoke about him. He would, for example, recount the following incident.

One day, St Jonah was walking through the monastery when a novice carrying a whole stack of plates came towards him. Not knowing how to receive a blessing, the novice became confused, and the elder said to him: “Throw them!” Without hesitation, the novice threw the plates onto the ground, and the elder blessed him. The plates, of course, were broken, and the novice was punished for this. But soon Father Jonah himself interceded for him, asking that the novice be tonsured a monk for such unquestioning obedience.

On another occasion, St Jonah made a novice turn upside down, saying: “Well, how do you like it? Do you like it?!” This happened after the novice had placed one of the books in his cell upside down while cleaning it. It is quite possible that Kirill Lukich himself may, to some extent, have experienced the echo of such a form of spiritual upbringing.

It is interesting that at the Iona Monastery even the youngest novices were allowed to wear monastic clothing, with the possible exception of prayer ropes. Until the end of his life, Father Spyridon remembered the happiness he experienced when he first put on a cassock and belt. Yet at the same time, alongside these joyful feelings, there was also something resembling despondency or disappointment. For a while, he was troubled by the question: “Why did I do this?” Although this state of mind passed fairly quickly, the memory of it remained with the batiushka for many years. He spoke about it more than once, particularly to those who were seriously considering choosing the monastic path.

In the Brotherhood of the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra

After five years of serving his obediences at the Iona Monastery, in December 1926 Kirill Lukich joined the brotherhood of the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra. On the one hand, this decision was prompted by his original desire to enter the Pechersk Monastery, which at that time had not been fulfilled because he was refused temporary registration. On the other hand, it was connected with his close acquaintance with the Lavra’s spiritual father and, later, his own spiritual mentor, Bishop Antony (Abashidze).

The abbot of the Lavra in those years was Archimandrite Hermogen (Golubev). Despite his position, he became a “spiritual friend” to the young Kirill and, after the death of Archbishop Antony (Abashidze), his spiritual father.

Already in the spring of 1927, the novice Kirill was forced to move to the Kitaev Hermitage, where Archimandrite Hermogen and Archbishop Antony were living at the time. Without going into detail, it should be recalled that, from the end of 1924 onwards, because of searches and persecution by the authorities (the GPU), many monks were forced to move to the Lavra’s hermitages, mostly to Kitaev. The rest of the brotherhood had to celebrate the divine services in the nearby Olga Church, since, following yet another refusal to recognise the Renovationists, all the Lavra churches had been handed over for the use of church structures loyal to the authorities.

Let us return, however, to the story of Kirill Lukich. At the Kitaev Hermitage he was appointed to the obedience of altar-server and, surprisingly enough, also to serve as an acolyte to Archimandrite Hermogen. The reason was that, according to an ancient Lavra tradition, the abbot elected by the brotherhood — not the superior — who held the rank of archimandrite “had precedence over all Russian metropolitans” and celebrated the divine services with episcopal insignia.

For this reason, Archimandrite Hermogen chose two pairs of acolytes, among whom was the novice Kirill. In 1929, on the Sunday of All Saints, all of them were tonsured as monks and received the names Spyridon and Nikodim, Gerontius and Leontius.

Understanding the Liturgical Traditions of the Lavra

The persecution of the monks of the Lavra did not cease even after their expulsion. The authorities prohibited monastic tonsures and ordinations, and after 1931 they began arresting monks altogether. For this reason, Father Spyridon received the rank of deacon outside the monastery walls. This took place in 1930, after which he was assigned a new obedience — singing in the kliros.

At that time, all the liturgical hymns were sung by the monks from memory. There was even an expression, “learning from the lips of the ustavshchik”, referring to the practice whereby new singers listened to the choir director, memorised the hymns, and then sang the services from memory. It was in this way, under the guidance of the ustavshchik of the Great Church, Igumen Charalampius (Pecheniya), that Father Spyridon learned not only the traditions of church singing but also the Lavra’s liturgical Ustav. Moreover, when the Kitaev Hermitage was closed on 6 November 1933 and all its inhabitants moved to the neighbouring Saviour-Transfiguration Monastery, Father Spyridon became acquainted with another ustavshchik of the Great Church, Archimandrite Flor (Goncharenko). Under his guidance, he began his forty-day priestly service, which he had to complete at Olga Church because the Transfiguration Hermitage was closed in the spring of 1934.

Without going into detail, it should be noted that liturgical discipline in the Lavra had been considerably systematised under Archimandrite Sergius (Lanin). Having been educated at the Moscow Theological Academy, without changing anything radically, he nevertheless achieved an exceptional precision in the performance of every liturgical rite during his four years as superior (1892–1896), a precision that has for the most part been preserved to this day.

Moving to Zhytomyr and Arrest

In 1934, after Kyiv became the capital of Soviet Ukraine, all “socially unreliable” citizens began to be expelled beyond the 100-kilometre zone. In addition, in September of the same year, the Renovationists seized Olga Church. Father Spyridon, having been deprived of voting rights on religious grounds, was forced to move to Zhytomyr. Settling on the outskirts of the city, he earned his living by repairing houses and painting roofs, since, as he himself wrote, he “did not wish to turn his priestly rank into a profession and a means of material existence”. It is noteworthy that the batiushka always wore his cassock and changed clothes only when working.

Apart from his cousin and two or three other priests, including Father Leontius (Filippovich), who secretly lived there and with whom he had received monastic tonsure, Father Spyridon practically visited no one. And it was not safe to do so in a country that was waging a struggle against “religious superstitions”.

Nevertheless, on the night of 29–30 August 1937, Father Spyridon was arrested. He was held for two days in a cell beneath the NKVD building and was then transferred to Zhytomyr Prison. He was not summoned for interrogation until two weeks later.

“It lasted from 8 p.m. until 8 a.m.,” the batiushka recalled. “I will only say that so many people took turns interrogating me that it is difficult for me to say who exactly was conducting the investigation… In the end, everything was reduced to the claim that I had been recruited by Bishop Maxim (Ruberovsky) and was a member of an underground counter-revolutionary organisation headed by him.”

As for Bishop Maxim, Father Spyridon had known him since 1935. The bishop had only just returned from exile and, having no accommodation, was given half of Father Spyridon’s room. Life became more difficult. Even the curtain dividing the room did not help. The bishop would take offence and become angry with Father Spyridon, and sometimes their conversations ended in mutual distress and hurt feelings. Thus, at the first opportunity, the batiushka found himself other accommodation and never again visited the bishop. Yet even this circumstance did not save him from imprisonment.

Apart from the alleged counter-revolutionary cooperation with Bishop Maxim, Father Spyridon was also accused of having travelled twice from Kyiv in 1932 with food to give to his old monastic friend, Monk Nikodim (Filippov).

“In Zhytomyr Prison there were 113 people in our cell,” the batiushka recalled. “Everyone slept on the floor, packed together, as they say, like fir trees, like parquet. If you got up during the night, you could no longer squeeze back in; your place would already be taken… The cells were so overcrowded that the windows could not be closed either during the day or at night, and steam was constantly pouring out of them, like from a bathhouse.”

On 17 November 1937, the indictment was signed. It stated: “In the city of Zhytomyr, a counter-revolutionary group of monks consisting of seven persons was uncovered, who carried out counter-revolutionary activities…” On the same day, the Troika issued its sentence: “Lukich Spyridon Nikolayevich is to be imprisoned in a corrective labour camp for a term of ten years.”

Vyatlag

“I found myself in a very remote place. But, thank God, not in Kolyma, only in the Kemerovo Regionт (Kirov Region — Ed.), Vyatka. We arrived in the winter of 1938, in February. It was 52 degrees below zero outside. But that was a rare occurrence; usually it was no colder than 40 below… The camp was new. Areas of forest had only just been felled, with even the tree stumps still beneath the snow. And by the time we arrived, tarpaulin tents on wooden frames had already been erected for 200 people. In the middle stood what was called a burzhuyka, a curious little stove. But the ‘urkas’, of course, would surround it and drive everyone away with logs. So, when you came back from work, there was no way either to warm yourself or to dry off. We slept on bunks in our wet clothes, without undressing, and therefore at night our caps would often freeze to the bunks.

“The main work was felling timber: nine kilometres to work and nine kilometres back. Because of the terrible food, people became exhausted to the point of death. Mortality was particularly high during the first year… And most of those who had no support — more than half of them — remained there during the first year… I thought that no one could survive ten years under such conditions, and that my fate was already decided… With my poor health, I would barely have survived.”

By nature, Father Spyridon was weak and sickly. His medical record stated that he suffered from a heart defect, scurvy, vitamin deficiency, anaemia and rheumatism… Of the first 23 months he spent in the camp, he was unable to work for twelve because of illness. At times he “could not walk and moved around on crutches”. After submitting repeated requests, the batiushka, as an invalid, was transferred from the arduous work of timber felling to a workshop where he painted toys.

Release and Subsequent Service in Various Dioceses

After ten years of imprisonment, on 30 August 1947, Father Spyridon was released, and within a mere two weeks he had already arrived at his native Lavra. Elderly parishioners recalled that when the batiushka, after his return, first came to a service at the Church of the Exaltation of the Cross and stood before the icon of the Saviour, the brotherhood could hardly recognise him. He was refused registration on the grounds that he had a criminal conviction.

Having lived in Zhytomyr for several years, the batiushka moved to Chernihiv. But his stay there was not particularly long either. Following the closure of the Holy Trinity Ilyinsky Convent in 1962, the batiushka continued to serve for about ten years in the Diocese of Penza, and then, in 1970, returned to Zhytomyr once again.

Interestingly, when Father Spyridon was arrested in 1937, believers took his library and personal belongings to their homes. When he returned to Zhytomyr, almost everything was given back to him.

The surroundings of Father Spyridon’s little house deserved special attention. In addition to the multitude of books, there was a holy corner, centred around a large Tikhvin Icon of the Mother of God. Numerous vigil lamps burned before the icons. Everything was kept in perfect cleanliness. There were images of Kyiv and the Lavra, photographs of people spiritually close to the batiushka — fathers and members of the brotherhood — and furniture of old Lavra workmanship. One could say that history lived there: a fragment of the former Kyiv and a corner of the former Lavra.

“Only strive, as much as you are able, to preserve your spirit in a prayerful disposition and reverence, in which lies the essential meaning of the Ustav.”

The consequences of camp life affected not only his health. After his exile, Father Spyridon suffered from a speech impediment and therefore practically did not celebrate the divine services: “I do not serve,” the batiushka would say, “because I am afraid of having to answer before God for every word left unspoken.” His God-given vocation also manifested itself through other gifts. Thus, in Chernihiv he restored and renovated the frescoes of the Holy Trinity Cathedral. He had acquired experience in this kind of work during his time at the Kitaev Hermitage, where he had artistically renewed the paintings of the seven-tier iconostasis of the main Holy Trinity Church.

In addition to everything else, Father Spyridon also achieved success in literary work. His notes on liturgical matters are of great interest, particularly the booklet The Proskomedia, or A Practical Guide to the Celebration of the Divine Liturgy, written for students of the Saratov Theological Seminary at the request of its rector at the time, Archimandrite Theodosius (Pogorsky). He also wrote articles for the Journal of the Moscow Patriarchate, commentaries on Metropolitan Manuel (Lemeshevsky)’s work Russian Orthodox Hierarchs, 1893–1965, as well as notes on monastic life, ordinary chant and liturgical order.

His latter works are of particular interest today, since questions of a contentious liturgical nature among the inhabitants of the Lavra have been the subject of discussions and disputes for years. Not everyone understands the liturgical intuition with which Father Spyridon arrived at his conclusions. To clarify the circumstances, let us quote several passages from his personal correspondence.

Work on the Ustav

Law or grace? It might seem that this question had already been positively resolved in favour of grace since the preaching of Jesus. Yet not everyone has sufficient determination to live accordingly. Let us admit that following an instruction is considerably easier. This is particularly noticeable in liturgical practice, when, lacking “liturgical intuition”, one is left with no choice but to rely on special instructions.

Father Spyridon attached particular importance to this intuitive sense. He called it a kind of compass, without which it is difficult “to find one’s way through the Ustav, to find the correct solution in ‘difficult passages’ and to see mistakes in a text in which the ‘letter-worshippers’ see dogma: ‘It is printed!’”.

And here a natural question arises: “Why, then, are there so many ‘difficult passages’ in our liturgical instructions, and why have they still not been corrected?”

Here are several of Father Spyridon’s reflections on the matter:

“I have once again discovered quite a few contradictions between the chapters concerning the bishop, the chapters concerning the church, and the ordinary text of the services of the Triodion, Menaion and Typikon. Once again I have become convinced of the extremely low quality of Nikon’s reform and the careless work of his ‘correctors’ — editors who created a mixture of different Ustavy: cathedral, monastic (and different kinds of those: coenobitic, skete, communities of the unceasingly praying, and others), local Russian ones, as well as their own inventions. The Ustav itself testifies to the glaring imperfection of its instructions (many of them self-contradictory and unfounded)… At times the mistakes become downright comical. No wonder Metropolitan Peter Mogila described ‘correctors’ of this kind as follows: not correctors, but corrupters: they do not correct, but spoil.”

Continuing this line of thought, Father Spyridon concluded that the Typikon, as well as all liturgical books insofar as their Ustav instructions are concerned, requires serious critical analysis and thoughtful correction.

“Before Nikon, every new edition was published with this or that correction and addition (perhaps not always correct; but, most importantly, there was no dead template). And in 1720 Peter the First also ‘had a hand’ in the Little Russian editions: they were to be printed in every respect like those of the Moscow printing house… And whatever they stopped at, they began to stamp out stereotypically, for three hundred years now… The Typikon must not be turned into a ‘Dead-end-book’, nor should the mistakes of the editors of the present text be made into canons of liturgics.”

At the same time, we find here a warning against hastily introducing any corrections:

“Be restrained in your enthusiasm for introducing something new and unusual in your places. Do not introduce too much at once; do everything gradually, carefully and, most importantly, tactfully (without hurting anyone’s pride or firmly established local custom)… Beware lest you make enemies, which always happens to overly forceful reformers who fail to observe a sense of proportion. You may thereby ruin the whole undertaking: ‘Bows are bent with patience, not all at once!’ (Do you remember Krylov’s bear?). Patriarch Nikon’s haste and persistence in his reform brought about the schism, which remains unhealed to this day… People cling very firmly to what is familiar. Correct chiefly what is fundamental… The same thing (if not to an even greater degree) must be borne in mind in a monastery, where there are always established traditions of its own, though they are not always correct.”

Father Spyridon’s notes concerning the shortening of services are also worthy of attention. On the one hand, there is no categorical refusal on this matter. The batiushka writes:

“Of course, — with a heavy heart, — and, as they say, ‘as a last resort’, some shortening of the service may be permitted (bearing in mind that the Ustav was written chiefly for monasteries, and no separate Ustav was written for parish churches).”

On the other hand, Father Spyridon warned against going too far in this enthusiasm:

“Those who like shortening services usually appeal to the people, saying that one must not burden people with long services. They are lying, masking their laziness with concern for the people… And Metropolitan Antony (Khrapovitsky) rightly writes in his lectures on Pastoral Theology: ‘Experience has shown that the more the service is shortened, the more burdensome it becomes.’ For the power of the spirit of negligence is given, and the spirit of love and diligence is driven out.”

Finally, the most important and, perhaps, the only thing truly necessary in divine worship, in Father Spyridon’s view, is the cultivation of the spirit of love:

“Only strive, as much as you are able, to preserve your own spirit and that of your concelebrants in a prayerful disposition and reverence, in which lies the essential meaning of the Ustav, its inner content. Read the Ustav more attentively, and you will see how much, and how insistently, it speaks of this, which many zealous defenders of the Ustav in its outward form overlook, caring only for its external aspect… and beware that such a disposition may remain constant, with God’s help (and not through self-confidence!), and not be stolen away through the exchange of it for formal details; although the latter do constitute liturgical beauty, in the whole of their reasonable system. But this building is not a brick house, but a breathing organism, and its breath is the spirit of prayer and a sense of reverence — a joyful fear of God. Without this, even the most ‘Ustav-compliant’ service outwardly is an uninhabited, unheated house, with no light in any of its windows: it is empty, cold and dark.”

When one reads these words, one comes to understand that the Liturgy is not merely a sequence of actions, but a path and an ascent towards the Kingdom of Love. And it is only in this orientation towards the Kingdom of God that the structure of divine worship acquires both meaning and significance.

Prayer

Without exaggeration, it can be said that Father Spyridon devoted most of his time to prayer. At times, whole nights passed in this spiritual labour:

“I developed a peculiar (probably neurasthenic in nature) weakness when it came to writing letters… I think this is the result of two causes: 1) exhaustion throughout the year (when I condemned myself to reading the entire Psalter every day, for the repose of Nun Seraphima, in addition to the usual rule), with almost sleepless nights; 2) the multitude of letters with which Penza and Chernihiv, and (to a small extent) Kalinin, overwhelm me; they kept growing and growing in number, which in itself is oppressive… Thank God, this ‘weakness’ does not affect my prayerful disposition and labour. On the contrary: during that year, despite the exhaustion, I became so accustomed to it that I could easily spend more than half the night (until about 3 a.m.) reading the Psalter and the rule, together with the daily services. The repose of Bishop Hermogen naturally prompted me to undertake the same prayers for the departed as I had done for Nun Seraphima; but I read the Psalter sitting down because of the swelling in my legs. Besides, I no longer read the whole of it, but as much as I manage and am able to — on average, about three times a week; at minimum, three kathismas in the morning and three in the evening, until night. Done!..”

Here are several more important pieces of advice for those devoted to the labour of prayer:

“In particular, it is quite definitely and unconditionally forbidden to read only with the eyes, without the participation of the lips — to read silently, inwardly, but to pronounce all the words with the lips. This is the general patristic tradition preserved by monastic elders; and among Catholics there is even an official written rule, which undoubtedly reflects the tradition of the ancient Church. Unfortunately, many people read merely in order to get through it formally as quickly as possible — with their eyes alone, like a newspaper, as it were, they simply ‘run through’ it… But such people should not be taken as an example… The aim is not merely to complete formally the entire appointed rule (although this too is necessary) and then be satisfied; that alone is not enough: the rule is a means of creating within oneself the appropriate prayerful and reverent disposition, and therefore one must additionally watch over one’s thoughts and feelings.”

Spiritual Guidance

In addition to his rich spiritual experience, Father Spyridon was distinguished by particular discernment. His advice and instructions were not limited to banal and terse phrases. The batiushka — or, more precisely, the elder — spared neither time nor words in this respect. Bishop Yevmeny (Khorolsky) of Zhytomyr would send many people to Father Spyridon, saying: “He is someone you can talk to; from him you can learn.”

It is noteworthy that the elder knew how to notice something useful in works of fiction for those who came to him with questions. In this respect, he was a very lively person and was not like a typical monk. For example, he recommended acquiring a collected edition of Dickens’s works so that children could be brought up through the example of those novels.

And when he was asked what and how best to read to one’s children, Father Spyridon would say: “As for Leo Tolstoy, I do not recommend him to you at all, but his Childhood, Boyhood and Youth — definitely.”

According to the recollections of L. Chuvikina, “during a conversation the batiushka became completely absorbed in speaking with his interlocutor. He could talk throughout the entire night. He could spend an hour and a half answering a single question… Usually, all the conversations took place at night, until the early morning, and then Father Spyridon, without going to bed, would begin to read his rule. And sometime during the day he would rest a little.”

At the same time, Father Spyridon had very few spiritual children. If someone asked to come under his spiritual guidance, the elder would always categorically refuse. And this is not surprising, considering that Father Spyridon himself remained in need of spiritual guidance to the very end. How moving it is to read his letters to Bishop Hermogen, where, for example, among his letters from 1969 one can find the following words:

“To turn to you with this question I consider my moral monastic duty, and I feel an inner need to receive your blessing in this matter — as from my ‘tonsured’ father and elder, and the Superior of our monastery in the past…”

Father Spyridon found his last spiritual father at the Korets Monastery. After the death of Bishop Hermogen, this was Elder Parthenius (Nevmerzhitsky). The Korets Monastery was, incidentally, one of Father Spyridon’s favourite places. Having visited it in the early 1980s, he began to come there frequently, sometimes staying in the monastery for a month at a time, and even left instructions that he should be buried there.

At the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra

The question of reopening the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra began to be seriously raised as early as the beginning of the 1980s. At that time, an initiative group was formed from among its former inhabitants, and a list was compiled of the Lavra’s monks who were still alive. The list contained as many as thirty people, although it should be noted that by the time the monastery was actually reopened, only fourteen of them had survived.

Father Spyridon himself very much doubted that the expected event would ever take place. He would say: “Even if they open the Lavra, who will go there — Komsomol members and Young Pioneers?!” But when, after the Lavra was reopened in 1988, he came there for the first time and saw a multitude of young people, he wept with emotion.

“Where,” he asked, “could so many young people have come from in the Soviet Union who wished to enter a monastery?”

The Lavra’s superior, Archimandrite Ionafan (Yeletskikh), suggested that the elder move to the Lavra to provide spiritual guidance to the brotherhood. For some time the batiushka refused, because after everything he had experienced he did not trust the Soviet authorities. He said on this subject: “Just as they have opened the Lavra, so they will close it whenever they want…”

Nevertheless, after much persuasion, he began staying at the Lavra for periods at a time. The elder was immediately appointed spiritual father of the monastery and was given a separate little house — a cell opposite the Church of the Exaltation of the Cross at the Near Caves.

He would usually arrive here before Great Lent, spend the entire Forty Days, celebrate Pascha, and only then leave. During this time the batiushka would spend long periods talking with and instructing the young inhabitants of the monastery, serve as a sponsor at monastic tonsures, and hear confessions.

It is noteworthy that even at such an advanced age, Father Spyridon had not lost his musical abilities: he could easily sing any chant, showing, for example, the young novice Volodymyr Linenko, the future ustavshchik, Archimandrite Polycarp, how they had sung in the former Lavra.

The Great Schema

The last time the batiushka came to the Lavra was during Great Lent in 1991. After returning to Zhytomyr, he suddenly developed severe abdominal pain. Added to this was constant swelling of his legs caused by heart failure, to the point of ulcers forming which would not heal and required frequent dressings. Father Spyridon treated his illnesses very calmly and attached little importance to them, although his condition deteriorated to the point where he had to remain constantly in a semi-seated position. He could only sleep sitting up, which was in fact what caused large bedsores to develop.

The elder had been thinking about receiving the Great Schema for a long time and had even written to Bishop Hermogen about it:

“I am afraid to postpone this intention for long, because I would like to receive the tonsure from someone among the old brotherhood of our Monastery (continuing, so to speak, the spiritual bond with it and with its past, by succession), while some of the elders are still alive.”

But at that time it did not work out…

Now, with his illness worsening, his spiritual children decided to write to the then superior of the Lavra, Archimandrite Elevfery (Didenko). Father Elevfery came to the batiushka with singers in order to perform the tonsure. But after asking the superior’s forgiveness, he refused, explaining that according to monastic tradition only a schema-monk could tonsure someone into the Great Schema, and since the superior was not a schema-monk, he “could not give what he himself did not possess”.

Father Elevfery and the brethren served a moleben for his health and departed. A week later, three schema-hieromonks came and tonsured the batiushka into the Great Schema.

The priests who came to tonsure the batiushka had not agreed beforehand on what name they would give him, intending to decide it on the spot. That was how it happened. Father Spyridon greeted those who had arrived with the exclamation: “Christ is Risen!” — those familiar with the Lavra’s Paterikon stories will understand why he was given the name Dionysius.

After the tonsure, Father Spyridon’s health, to the joy of those around him, clearly began to improve, but the batiushka did not share their optimism. On the third day, his condition suddenly deteriorated, and he asked for a priest to be called.

“Father, read the prayers for the departing,” Father Dionysius said to him.

“What are you saying?” the priest replied. “Let us receive Holy Communion first.”

“I have already taken my tablets,” the batiushka said.

But the priest insisted, and the elder obeyed and received Holy Communion. Afterwards, he again asked him to read the prayers for the departing.

According to those who were present, the batiushka, dressed in the schema, was sitting on his bed with his eyes closed. His breathing became slower and quieter. Then he opened his eyes and looked at those standing before him. A tear rolled from his eye; he breathed his last — and reposed.

This took place on the morning of 2 September.

Symbolically, the ninth day after Father Spyridon’s repose fell on the feast of the Synaxis of the Saints of the Far Caves, while the fortieth day fell on the Synaxis of the Saints of the Near Caves.