SERGIUS OF RADONEZH

On July 18 (5), the Church honors the memory of St. Sergius of Radonezh. On this summer day in 1422 in the Sergius Monastery, exactly 30 years after his death, in the monastery he founded, according to instructions from above, his relics were found.

The Ancient Church, and the Russian Church, by the mysterious plan of God for human history, in those days seemed to be reliving what the Universal Church of antiquity lived many centuries before its birth, did not know the practice of arbitrary discovery of relics by human decision. Therefore, the discovery of the relics of this or that great saint became a day of celebration of his memory, a sign of the manifestation of holiness, as a one-time, unique contact of earth with Heaven.

From childhood, Sergius was distinguished by deep modesty, or, better, he lived his life in the arms of humility. Over time, when the name of Sergius became more and more famous, the saint was distinguished by a constant craving for disgrace. The memory of St. Sergius is for the Church, as the Society of the Humble, an important occasion for reflection on the image of this, undoubtedly, the most glorious Northern Russian saint.

Liturgy in the Orthodox tradition is a manifestation of glory. Liturgical splendor is essentially a combination of the richest textual material, chants, choral singing, richness of vestments, special gestures, movements and processions during the service with solemnity, in the unspoken hope that it is the latter that will help the “silent wealth” of tradition become expressed. But the liturgy also has another face, another image.

Those who had the opportunity to visit the Monastery of St. Sergius, to see the things that have come down to us from him, his life and time—the chalice, the paten, parts of vestments—saw a different face of the divine service. This is the liturgy of humility, the liturgy of solitude, the liturgy of withdrawal from the world, … the liturgy of absence of power. The Liturgy of St. Sergius is not only simple wooden ordinary liturgical vessels, which he himself could make from wood, or poor vestments. The Liturgy of Sergius is also about the absence of what is convenient, familiar and ordinary. This is his monastery itself, which was then what it should have remained forever—a place of solitude and a city of angels, a place of invisibility of people.

To this topos of a new common task—liturgy—to which, as in some new creation, in the absence of lions, these companions of the glory of empires and ancient ascetics, even a bear joined.

Sergius’ whole life was a search for this “infamy”. There was some kind of tireless, amazing desire within him to remain forgotten, and not to be remembered even by his contemporaries. When people intrigued against him in his own monastery, he simply left. When his brother, according to his life, tried to question his authority, Sergius immediately left the monastery. When the Kiev Metropolitan of All Rus’ Alexius (1296-1378) asked Sergius to become his successor, Sergius refused.

It is obvious that Sergius became one of the greatest God-seers in history. In a vision, he saw the Mother of God appearing to him along with the Apostles. Sergius heard a promise from above that the flow of his disciples would never stop. Sergius did not enter the glory of God’s vision alone. After all, the witness of the Mother of God’s visit was, in addition, the unknown and humble monk Micah (+1385). Thus, the search for one’s own infamy turned into glory for others. The Lord judged that the most inglorious of the inglorious, together with the saint, who was striving for ignominy, would be clothed with Great Glory. Life is like a liturgy of infamy, where the Lord determines the paths of a person who preserves his authenticity. The way to live the calling of Christ was revealed by Sergius. He was Humble and glorious, great and small. He wanted to be forgotten, but became unforgettable forever through the Grace of Christ. He became the Reverend, Our friend, father and brother.

The life of every person has a certain vector. But unlike even his holy contemporaries, the vector of Sergius’ holiness was directed in the opposite direction. Instead of fame—to obscurity, instead of glory—to humility, instead of primacy—to marginality. Therefore, the life of St. Sergius became that rare case when this silent “request for oblivion” was ultimately denied to the saint by God Himself.