Many lovers of literature are familiar, through Dostoyevsky's works, with the concept of the Russian "Staretz," or spiritual elder, and this biography offers a vivid portrayal of an authentic Staretz, Father Ilarion—a monk of the renowned Glinsk hermitage in modern-day Ukraine. Offering unique insights into the Orthodox Church in Russia during communism and in the immediate postcommunist period, this account not only chronicles Father Ilarion's journey, but also presents a vision of a simple Christian life in the contemporary world. With contributions from Father Ilarion's spiritual followers, this history also provides a glimpse into Russian culture and religious perspectives.
The beginning had a lot of generalized characterizations and lots of names of fellow monks and his parishioners. But after a few chapters more personal anecdotes began to appear, which made for more interest and inspiration. It is always inspiring to read about holy and zealous Orthodox Christians. It's worth a read for Orthodox Christians.
A most delightful biography of Father Ilarion, a Russian/Ukrainian holy man of the Eastern Orthodox Church! The incredible struggles he underwent against the beastly Communist/Socialist government of the early to mid twentieth century. Lord, strengthen us all. Amen.
This book from Holy Trinity Press, Jordanville, translated by Nathan K. Williams, is yet another priceless pearl showing that Orthodoxy is truly unconquerable. It covers the life of Archimandrite Ilarion (in the world Ivan Fomich Prikhodko) from his birth in the 1920s, his service to his country during the Great Patriotic war, his entrance into the Nativity of the Mother of God hermitage at Glinsk, and his subsequent assignments to parishes in the world following the Soviet-ordered closing of the hallowed Glinsk hermitage.
This biography is a collection of accounts of various parts of Fr. Ilarion's life by his spiritual children, who gathered around him at a time when the formally atheistic State forbade public teaching of Orthodoxy. In just such a time, Fr. Ilarion appeared like a ray of sunshine piercing through the clouds of unbelief and illumining the path to salvation for those who would imitate his life and heed his counsels.
I believe that this work and others like it in English are of no small importance for Orthodoxy in the diaspora (that is, Orthodoxy in places where there is no native Orthodox culture or large numbers of believers). Fr. Ilarion's life shows us what it was like in a very difficult period of the Church's life in Russia, but it also sets before us a prototype and example of what to do in a time when "truth hath 'minished from among the children of men." His example shows us that we ought to cultivate islands of spiritual health, that we ought to find priests and confessors who are serious with us about our salvation and who have actual experience in the spiritual life with the unseen warfare, and that we ought never to lose hope in God's mercy and faithfulness.
In a way, Fr. Ilarion's life encapsulates the entire recent century-long epoch undergone by the Russian people. We see the great heroism of these people when we hear about Fr. Ilarion's service on the front lines in WWII, where he was wounded. We travel along with him to the sacred monastery where, just as in Optina, the tradition of spiritual eldership had been passed down for quite some time. We hear of his sacrificial service to his parishioners and spiritual children, upholding them by his prayers. Truly he was like another Moses, interceding with God that He would spare them from reaping the just consequences of their sins and ignorances.
His time at seminary provided a new light upon the controversial figure of Met. Nikodim of Leningrad, who, by this account, was an effective administrator of the seminary education. The book recounts how the Soviets were micromanagers in the realm of ecclesiastical affairs, so zealous were they to keep Fr. Ilarion and other bright luminaries of unhypocritical spiritual wisdom away from the Orthodox flock, so jealous they were of the Church's influence upon the masses that 70 years had not been able to efface.
One realizes from the outset that the title is an apt one for its subject. Fr. Ilarion was a champion in the truest sense of that word, "a hero, a brave warrior." He struggled "unto blood" for the welfare of his flock. He kept a monastic regimen of services at the parish-- this at a time when it was truly the services themselves that could subversively preach to the people in defiance of the Soviet prohibitions. The numbers of his prostrations, his readings of the Psalter, his canons to the Mother of God-- recorded for his own private records in order to faithfully keep his spiritual rule, but espied by one of his spiritual children-- staggers the imagination. They testify that his heart was aflame with all-powerful, transfiguring divine love. He unmurmuringly accepted with gratitude all the struggles, misunderstandings, sorrows, and illnesses that God's Providence sent to him, and taught others how to do this also.
In America, frankly, we have very few "Fr. Ilarions." We have missionary committees that meet at coffeehouses; we have Orthodox "conferences" where learned types pontificate over various things. We have sermon competitions, web forums, music concerts, and podcasts. None of these are bad of themselves, but where are the Champions of Good in the Orthodox diaspora-- people willing to offer a true example of ascetic piety, loving strictness, and true spiritual experience as it has been lived in the bosom of the Church's historic consciousness from time immemorial? Such otherworldly examples cut through all the idle chatter and distractions that I, and perhaps others, substitute for true spiritual life. I pray that God will continue to use Fr. Ilarion's example to till up the ground of my heart, and that by following after him in some small way, I may show forth true fruits of repentance. May He grant all these things to me and to others, through the prayers of Fr. Ilarion. Amen!