What do you think?
Rate this book
The Northern Thebaid: Monastic Saints of the Russian North
From the fourth century A.D., the desert Thebaid of Egypt was the home of thousands of monks and nuns who made the desert a city peopled with Christians striving toward heaven in the angelic way of life. A thousand years later, no fewer thousands of monks and nuns, likewise seeking union with God, went to live in the forests of northern Russia, creating what has become known as the Northern Thebaid. Just as the sultry African nature with its clear blue sky, lush colors, its burning sun, and its incomparable moonlit nights, is distinct from the aquarelle soft tones of Russia s northern nature with the blue surface of its lakes and the soft shades of its leafy forests in the same way the sanctity of the Saints of the Egyptian desert, elemental and mighty, is distinct from the sanctity of Russia, which is quiet, lofty, and as crystal-clear as the radiant and quiet evening of the Russian spring. But both in Russia and in Egypt there is the same noetic prayer, the same interior silence. Illustrated with rare pictures from old Russian books and magazines, The Northern Thebaid chronicles the lives of a number of holy men and women of the Russian forests, presenting the Orthodox monastic tradition which inspired them and which is still alive today for those who would follow in their footsteps. This latest edition is a facsimile of the original edition, which was hand-printed by Fr. Seraphim Rose and his monastic brothers in the mountain forests of northern California. It includes a new preface and a new appendix on the recently rediscovered, incorrupt relics of St. Alexander of Svir, a sixteenth-century luminary of the Russian North.
308 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1975
16 people are currently reading
229 people want to read
About the author
Seraphim Rose
47 books327 followersSeraphim Rose, born Eugene Dennis Rose, was a hieromonk of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia in the United States, whose writings have helped spread Orthodox Christianity throughout modern America and the West. They have also been widely read in Russia. Although not formally canonized as of 2008, he is venerated by some Orthodox Christians as a saint in iconography, liturgy, and prayer.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
December 16, 2019
"How can we make use of this holy inheritance in our own lives today? We must not deceive ourselves: the life of the desert-dwellers of the Northern Thebaid is far beyond us in our time of unparalleled spiritual emptiness. In any epoch the monastic life is limited by the kind of life which is being led in the world. At a time when daily Orthodox life in Russia was both extremely difficult and very sober, monasticism could flourish; but in our time when ordinary life has become abnormally 'comfortable' and the world-view of even the best religious and intellectual leaders is shockingly frivolous, what more is to be expected than that luke-warm 'spirituality with comfort' with which bold voices from inside Soviet Russia even now are reproaching the free West? The situation within enslaved Russia is spiritually much more favorable, because on the foundation of the suffering and hardship which are the daily lot of most people there, something spiritual can come out." (p. 285)
The "holy inheritance" to which Fr. Seraphim refers is the, "the golden chain of Orthodox spirituality which has come down unbroken from the Egyptian desert to us" (Ibid.). This "spirituality" is not contained so much in writing as in the example of the "God-pleasing lives" recorded in The Northern Theba'id.
If there is one statement which could summarize the entire book, it would be this: "on the foundation of the suffering and hardship something spiritual can come out". Take St. Nicodemus of Kozha Lake, for example:
This was in the vicinity of Onega, Russia where rain falls roughly 255 days per year and the average annual temperature is about 34 degrees Fahrenheit, dropping to between 5 and 10 degrees Fahrenheit in the winter.
What was the secret to life in this brutal environment? Cranberries, naturally!
A pattern of life emerges from the lives in this book:
The intense hardship of these wilderness regions was matched by their beauty.
The soul of these Russians was formed by the vast and haunting forests in which they lived and died, but these ascetics did not flee into their lonesome huts merely to experience the natural beauty of these wild refuges: it was preeminently the vision of Heaven that they savored.
It is notable that many, if not most, of these forest ascetics were raised by pious parents, for instance: "Schema-hieromonk Nilus of Sora (1801 - 1870) was born of devout Orthodox parents. His father was in correspondence with Blessed Paisius Velichkovsky, the new zealot of the Holy Fathers and of the monastic 'mental work' by no means second even to St. Nilus, and the disciples of Elder Paisius often visited his house." (St. Nilus of Sora, p. 105)
St. Paul of Obnora is another example: "Born in a pious noble family of Moscow in 1317, St. Paul even from childhood showed leanings toward the contemplative life of a true Orthodox Christian. He avoided noisy children's games and sweet foods, he fasted, gave to the poor everything he had, even the clothes on his back, attended eagerly every church service, and spent whole nights in prayer." (Saint Paul of Obnora, p. 40).
The book is filled with refreshingly blunt condemnations of the Soviets:
At 131-164 ft. deep, the "cold waters" of the White Sea remain permanently below freezing, and the average winter temperatures of the Solovki islands are about 10 - 14 degrees Fahrenheit.
The discipline of such climates was matched by the life of its monks. St. Cyril of White Lake was said to have feet like "unshakable pillars", never allowing himself to sit in church (St. Cyril of White Lake, p. 58). St. Sergius, "a lover of hard work" (p. 25), not only cleared the forest and built the first buildings of his monastery, but for decades tirelessly, "flayed and ground grain, baked bread and cooked food, cut out shoes and clothing and stitched them; he drew water from the spring nearby, carrying it in two pails on his shoulders,and put water in each cell." (St. Sergius of Radonezh, p. 22).
This would be difficult enough for an ordinary man with good sleep and a hearty diet, but St. Sergius, "spent the night in prayer, without sleep, eating only bread and water, and those in small quantities. He never spent an idle hour. Remaining thus in ceaseless prayer and labors, he completely wore out and refined his flesh, having the constant desire to be a citizen of the Jerusalem that is above." (Ibid.).
Here, at last, we see the root of the strength which animated these remarkable saints: prayer. It was not just any form of prayer, however. Above all, it was Hesychasm, communicated to Russia from the Byzantine tradition of St. Gregory of Palamas. After his decisive split from Western Christendom over the experience of God and the practice of prayer, St. Gregory's teaching grew to become the defining characteristic of Eastern Orthodox spiritual life, contrasting strongly with the increasingly divergent spiritual traditions of the Catholic West.
Nowhere is the Hesychast tradition of St. Gregory vindicated more than in the fruits which he bore in Russia. Adopted by a series of Russian Metropolitans, Hesychasm came to Russia through new art and literature entering in the 14th century from the Bulgarian and Serbian Orthodox Churches together with a steady stream of pilgrimages between Russia and the Byzantine East. This resulted in, "the restoration of the inward activity (the true Orthodox spiritual life), which had grown weak or been all but forgotten owing to the Tatar incursions." (Prof. Ivan Michailovich Kontzevitch, "Introduction: Acquisition of the Holy Spirit in Ancient Russia", p. 1).
With The Northern Thebaid, the spiritual legacy of Palamas and the Egyptian desert fathers is transmitted to America by way of the monastic saints of the Russian North. The spiritual emptiness of modern American society which Fr. Seraphim observes would be fertile ground for such seed, yet the frivolous, excessive comforts and pleasures of modern life stifle its growth. Perhaps one day we will be liberated from the material abundance that stunts the growth of the American soul, but until then, let each of us do whatever we can to put in practice the strength and virtue of the Northern Theba'id.
The "holy inheritance" to which Fr. Seraphim refers is the, "the golden chain of Orthodox spirituality which has come down unbroken from the Egyptian desert to us" (Ibid.). This "spirituality" is not contained so much in writing as in the example of the "God-pleasing lives" recorded in The Northern Theba'id.
If there is one statement which could summarize the entire book, it would be this: "on the foundation of the suffering and hardship something spiritual can come out". Take St. Nicodemus of Kozha Lake, for example:
In the wilderness of Khozyug St. Nicodemus built a small cell by himself, dug the earth and planted vegetables, gathered roots, fished in the river, and thus fed himself by the work of his hands. However, he would eat the fish only when it had begun to spoil, so that his flesh might not take too sweet delight of earthly things. At first the monks would bring him milk from the monastery, but soon the Saint refused to accept it any longer. His time was occupied with strict fasting and continence, almost ceaseless vigilance (for he took only a little sleep, and that standing up), constant prayer, frequently with tears, and hard labor. In this desert St. Nicodemus found what his heart had desired for so long. "Oh, humble Nicodemus," he would say to himself, "you have found for yourself a silent place for salvation. And thus, arise in spirit in this short time, even if at the eleventh hour, for the evening has already drawn nigh, and the Righteous Judge is coming with glory to give to each according to his deeds." (St. Nicodemus of Kozha Lake, p. 255)
This was in the vicinity of Onega, Russia where rain falls roughly 255 days per year and the average annual temperature is about 34 degrees Fahrenheit, dropping to between 5 and 10 degrees Fahrenheit in the winter.
What was the secret to life in this brutal environment? Cranberries, naturally!
One monk of Solovki - to take an example that was recorded in the Solovki Patericon of this period - was going about the island on some monastery business; becoming fatigued, he wished to rest beside a steep hill. Intending to lie down on the ground, he crossed himself and pronounced aloud the Jesus Prayer. Suddenly from the top of the hill, from within a cleft, he heard "Amen." Not believing his ears, he pronounced the prayer a second and a third time, and again he heard the same "Amen." "Who are you, a man or a spirit?" asked the monk in astonishment. "I am a sinful man," answered the unseen one, "and I am weeping over my sins." "What is your name and how did you come here?" "My name and how I cam here God alone knows." "Are you alone here?" "Near to me there live two elders. There was also a third one, but he departed to the Lord and we buried him." "And what do you live on?" "Remember, brother, the word of the Lord: Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth from the mouth of God. He nourishes and warms the inward man. Remember how in earlier times holy men and women dwelt in mountains, caves, and caverns of the earth. God the Creator fed them, and is He not the same God Who is now? If you wish to find out with what the Master feeds my corruptible body, take this." With these words he threw a piece of something, and the monk took it and ate it. It was dried moss with cranberries. "This is what my Master feeds me with," said the desert-dweller." (The Unknown Anchorite, p. 191-192)
A pattern of life emerges from the lives in this book:
Almost in every Life of the Northern Saints we see a repetition of the same thing: when one of God's chosen monks, after going through outward asceticism in a monastery, ripens for a life of silence, then, being blessed by his abbot or elder, he goes away into the forest denseness, and like a swimmer who throws himself into the boundless sea, subjects himself to the abyss of dangers and sorrows which are bound up with the solitary life in the wilderness, something which is possible only with a fullness of faith and a total giving of oneself over to God's Providence. And there, after he has gone through the school of inward perfection, he against enters into contact with men. But at the first opportunity he again strives and thirsts to continue his life of silence. (St. Cornelius of Komel, p. 169)
The intense hardship of these wilderness regions was matched by their beauty.
After some time St. Anthony went away to another solitary place three miles from the previous place. This place was in the mountains and was surrounded by mountains as by walls; and in the valley between these mountains was a lake, which was called Padoun. At the base of these mountains stood the cell of the Saint, and around it were twelve birch trees, as white as snow. On the mountains there grew such a tall forest that from below it seemed to reach to the heavens. Most melancholy was this place, so that one coming to see this wilderness would have great contrition, for the very sight of the place could bring the beholder of it into tender feeling. (St. Anthony of Siya, p. 156)
The soul of these Russians was formed by the vast and haunting forests in which they lived and died, but these ascetics did not flee into their lonesome huts merely to experience the natural beauty of these wild refuges: it was preeminently the vision of Heaven that they savored.
And suddenly he heard a great voice: "Behold, the Lord comes, and She Who gave Him birth." The Saint went quickly to the balcony of his cell, and a great light shone upon him and likewise upon the whole monastery, brighter than the sun's rays. And the Saint, looking up, saw the Most Holy Mother of God upon the foundation of the church of Her honorable Protection, in the place of the Altar, as a Queen sitting upon a throne, holding our Lord Jesus Christ as a child in Her arms, and around Her a multitude of Angelic choirs stood and shone in unutterable brightness. When the Saint saw this wondrous vision, he fell down upon the ground and could not look at the unutterable light, being seized with fear and terror. ... And again the Most Holy Mother of God said to him: "My beloved, if anyone bring even a single brick for the building of My church in the Name of Jesus Christ My Son and God he will not lose his reward." And having said this, She became invisible. (St. Alexander of Svir, p. 136)
It is notable that many, if not most, of these forest ascetics were raised by pious parents, for instance: "Schema-hieromonk Nilus of Sora (1801 - 1870) was born of devout Orthodox parents. His father was in correspondence with Blessed Paisius Velichkovsky, the new zealot of the Holy Fathers and of the monastic 'mental work' by no means second even to St. Nilus, and the disciples of Elder Paisius often visited his house." (St. Nilus of Sora, p. 105)
St. Paul of Obnora is another example: "Born in a pious noble family of Moscow in 1317, St. Paul even from childhood showed leanings toward the contemplative life of a true Orthodox Christian. He avoided noisy children's games and sweet foods, he fasted, gave to the poor everything he had, even the clothes on his back, attended eagerly every church service, and spent whole nights in prayer." (Saint Paul of Obnora, p. 40).
The book is filled with refreshingly blunt condemnations of the Soviets:
Lying in the cold waters of the White Sea, the towers and ruined churches of the Monastery of Solovki still stand today, silent witnesses of five centuries of ascetic labors and holy deeds. The sacred monastery of Saints Sabbatius, Zosimas, and Herman in the northernmost Lavra of the Russian Thebaid.
Today the monastery is being "restored" as an historical monument, but of course the God-hating Soviets will not allow even the mention of the very essence of Solovki- its holiness, exemplified in its life of monastic labors and missionary enlightenment for the northern nomads. (St. Sabbatius of Solovki, p. 72)
At 131-164 ft. deep, the "cold waters" of the White Sea remain permanently below freezing, and the average winter temperatures of the Solovki islands are about 10 - 14 degrees Fahrenheit.
The discipline of such climates was matched by the life of its monks. St. Cyril of White Lake was said to have feet like "unshakable pillars", never allowing himself to sit in church (St. Cyril of White Lake, p. 58). St. Sergius, "a lover of hard work" (p. 25), not only cleared the forest and built the first buildings of his monastery, but for decades tirelessly, "flayed and ground grain, baked bread and cooked food, cut out shoes and clothing and stitched them; he drew water from the spring nearby, carrying it in two pails on his shoulders,and put water in each cell." (St. Sergius of Radonezh, p. 22).
This would be difficult enough for an ordinary man with good sleep and a hearty diet, but St. Sergius, "spent the night in prayer, without sleep, eating only bread and water, and those in small quantities. He never spent an idle hour. Remaining thus in ceaseless prayer and labors, he completely wore out and refined his flesh, having the constant desire to be a citizen of the Jerusalem that is above." (Ibid.).
Here, at last, we see the root of the strength which animated these remarkable saints: prayer. It was not just any form of prayer, however. Above all, it was Hesychasm, communicated to Russia from the Byzantine tradition of St. Gregory of Palamas. After his decisive split from Western Christendom over the experience of God and the practice of prayer, St. Gregory's teaching grew to become the defining characteristic of Eastern Orthodox spiritual life, contrasting strongly with the increasingly divergent spiritual traditions of the Catholic West.
Nowhere is the Hesychast tradition of St. Gregory vindicated more than in the fruits which he bore in Russia. Adopted by a series of Russian Metropolitans, Hesychasm came to Russia through new art and literature entering in the 14th century from the Bulgarian and Serbian Orthodox Churches together with a steady stream of pilgrimages between Russia and the Byzantine East. This resulted in, "the restoration of the inward activity (the true Orthodox spiritual life), which had grown weak or been all but forgotten owing to the Tatar incursions." (Prof. Ivan Michailovich Kontzevitch, "Introduction: Acquisition of the Holy Spirit in Ancient Russia", p. 1).
With The Northern Thebaid, the spiritual legacy of Palamas and the Egyptian desert fathers is transmitted to America by way of the monastic saints of the Russian North. The spiritual emptiness of modern American society which Fr. Seraphim observes would be fertile ground for such seed, yet the frivolous, excessive comforts and pleasures of modern life stifle its growth. Perhaps one day we will be liberated from the material abundance that stunts the growth of the American soul, but until then, let each of us do whatever we can to put in practice the strength and virtue of the Northern Theba'id.
September 24, 2019
This was a very uplifting series of biographies of the Russian monastics of the northern 'deserts'.
Beginning in the 14th century, and closing with the saints in the 17th century who trekked eastwards into Siberia, bringing Orthodoxy to the peoples there.
While for myself I have zero desire to live a monastic life (rather, I still yearn for a girl to marry and have kids with), this is still an uplifting work chronicling the lives of men who waged a war against their own passions, desires, and needs. They transcended their own humanity, and attained a theosis that very, very few Christian's will ever experience.
And their lives serve as wonderful spiritual lessons.
A very good book to own and revisit.
Beginning in the 14th century, and closing with the saints in the 17th century who trekked eastwards into Siberia, bringing Orthodoxy to the peoples there.
While for myself I have zero desire to live a monastic life (rather, I still yearn for a girl to marry and have kids with), this is still an uplifting work chronicling the lives of men who waged a war against their own passions, desires, and needs. They transcended their own humanity, and attained a theosis that very, very few Christian's will ever experience.
And their lives serve as wonderful spiritual lessons.
A very good book to own and revisit.
November 21, 2021
An excellent account of the Byzantine Monastic tradition that was absorbed into Holy Russia by the great ascetics of the russian north. It's a terrible shame this kind of manly struggle has been all but removed from western Christianity. Though it would be totally beyond the average soft westerner, this is still an inspiring book to read.
November 9, 2022
Fantastic delve into the lives of the Russian monastics in the far north. The Blessed Seraphim Rose writes humble simplicity, yet makes their sacrifice and bodily chastisement of the passions come alive. He shines a light on this desperately needed topic. The lives of men who have reposed centuries ago will speak to you in this day and age as a friend. Their wisdom is eternal.
The Foreword’s story about how the book came about was also quite interesting.
Essential reading for Orthodox Christians or anyone interested in the lives of Christian ascetics.
The Foreword’s story about how the book came about was also quite interesting.
Essential reading for Orthodox Christians or anyone interested in the lives of Christian ascetics.
May 9, 2023
See previous review just much truer to me.
September 30, 2024
A most blessed account of the holy desert pursuers of hesychasm (stillness) in the northern wilderness of Holy Russia.
June 25, 2015
One of the best collections of the lives of the great monastic saints of Russia's northern forests available. I only wish Fr. Seraphim had limited himself to their lives only. He stretches out the life of St. Nilus of Sora way beyond the saint's repose, and he inserts his commentary throughout, which often has more to do with the state of Orthodoxy during Fr. Seraphim's lifetime than the lives of the saints he's writing about. It still deserves 5 stars based on content and the quality of the translations alone though.
June 26, 2013
A must read! Fr. Seraphim has understood Russian orthodoxy to the core!
January 28, 2015
An excellent collection of the lives of the saints. One of the few books brought to us by the late Fr. Seraphim which I would recommend highly.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews