In the previous program we acquainted you with a story by Orthodox clergyman Nikolai Agafonov "By the Rivers of Babylon". Now we would like to offer you a story he wrote about his own life. Its title is "How I entered the Seminary". Some of our listeners have been writing in to ask where one can receive an ecclesiastical education in this country. We hope this edition of the program shall answer, in part, your question.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The idea of entering the seminary first occurred to me when I was in the army.  I was serving in the strategic missile forces in Byelorussia. As far as the eye could see, outside the army compound there were nothing but forests and marshes. Since I had joined the detachment already in the rank of Sergeant, I was made Squad Captain. All of us had a great deal of time on our hands, so I made a bee-line for the library and sat reading for hours on end...
I basically read the Russian classics. I made a point of reading my way through  everything that had been off-limits or hadn't found its way into the school program. I was most struck by Dostoyevsky. His novels, particularly "The Brothers Karamazov" and "Demons" became my first theological literature. Dostoyevsky awakened my interest in religion.
From that moment on I embarked on my road of seeking God. I was thirsting for knowledge about the Orthodox Faith. However, how could one hope of acquiring knowledge of this nature in the Soviet Army? I learned of the Life of Christ through reading Hegel. However, I learned the most about Christian dogmas and the Church by reading atheistic literature. There was more than enough of it at the army library. The librarian even remarked once: "Comrade Sergeant, you are reading so much atheistic literature...Watch out you don't become a believer!"
It was as if he'd had second sight! "The Atheist's Dictionary" became my first study book on Christian dogmatics. I open it on "A" - "Ascension", and read the explanation. I carefully coped into my notebook the description of the event and it's importance for Christians, brushing aside the atheist rubbish. In this manner I discovered practically all the principal dogmatics of the Church. In the same book I came upon the word "Seminary", where it was explained that the word came from Greek, and meant 'to disseminate'; that it was an educational establishment of the Moscow Patriarchate, where they train clergymen and theology teachers.
The same dictionary said that at the present time there were three seminaries on the territory of the USSR: the Moscow, Leningrad and Odessa seminaries. For me this was a joyous revelation! I carved a cross out of a copper plate and wore it in my breast-pocket. I felt an urge to pray to God, yet since I knew no prayers, I would go beyond the barbed-wire enclosure out into the woods and pray to God, saying: "Lord, help me, set me on the right course," and something of the kind. I now had a dream of studying at the Seminary so as to devote my life afterwards to the struggle against Godlessness and atheism.
However, when I was demobilized from the Soviet Army in 1975, I found myself absorbed by something else. The fact is, prior to the army I had dreamt of a sailor's life, and when I returned from the army in November, the Kuibishev inland navigation college was recruiting its student body. My relative, uncle Misha, advised me to join the third year straight away, since my army training allowed it. I was tempted... I eased my conscience by telling myself I could remain a believer if I was navigator or even Captain. However, after studying at the college three months, I realized the mistake I'd made.
I found little interest in studying navigation or mathematics, and was more drawn to philosophy, history and theology. I decided to leave the college and start preparing for seminary. I sought advice from my wise grandmother.
"Wait, grandson," she said. "Do not be in too much of a hurry. Let me find out more."
So she wrote to her cousin Nina, who was parish clerk in a village in Rostov region. Soon, a parcel came by post, with a magazine published by the Moscow patriarchate. It listed all the requirements for enrollment to the Seminary, as well as all prayers one needed to know for the exams. I was overjoyed, and decided to go to Moscow, get a job and start going to church, while preparing for the exams.
When my mother learned of my decision to give up college studies and go to Moscow, she was upset to the point of tears. I asked her why she was so set against my entering the Seminary.
"I am not at all against your joining the Seminary," she replied. "It's just that I'd hoped you would first get a secular education, acquire a profession..."
I explained to her that I didn't want to waste precious time, tricking the state into giving me an education, when in actual fact I would be going to serve God.
"I am afraid," my mother said, "that if you walk this path, you will come across some injustice, become disappointed, and leave the Church in disillusionment. You will have no profession to tide you over..."
I replied that I was perfectly aware that people were far from perfect, just as I was. Which is why I was joining the Church to begin with: to become better myself, and to instruct others to do the same. I had no intention of being disappointed.
My grandmother stood up for me:
"Let him go, daughter!" she said to mother. "This fellow won't let you down. Maybe this is his calling in life?!"
In April 1976 I set out for Moscow, as contract labor to the Olympiysky site. I had a profession - a finisher. All I had in my pocket were 30 roubles, and there were sanguine hopes whirling in my head...
Moscow met me and others like me, arrived for the construction of the Olympiysky site, in a far from hospitable mood: they lodged us in rooms for non-residents, took away our passports, promising to have everything settled soon. However, the process dragged out...
The lodgings were drafty and far from comfortable. I caught cold, and woke on Saturday to a splitting headache. I was in the grips of fever, feeling all alone in a city of millions. I had neither relatives nor friends... Besides, all I had left were 15 roubles. I was assailed by heart-wrenching nostalgia. At this point I said to myself: "Stop! What is this? Why am I so faint-hearted? I am not alone - God is with me! He led me here!"
I recalled what I had read in atheistic literature about the atheists making fun of believers for their faith in the healing properties of the sacred relics. They must really possess these properties, if the atheists were so spiteful about this. Where could I find sacred relics? I recalled reading about St.Sergius of Radonezh in a history novel. So off I went to the Holy Trinity St.Sergius Monastery near Moscow, to seek a cure from the sacred relics of the Saint. I learned how to get there and despite my ill state, set off.
When I arrived at the station I decided to ask for directions to the Monastery. However, at this point I was overwhelmed with embarrassment. I thought if I started asking about the Monastery, everyone would laugh at me, saying: "He is so young, yet believes in God like some old woman!" I went in random direction and was fortunate enough to find myself in front of the Monastery. When I entered, yet again I was at a loss: where would I find the sacred relics? I was too embarrassed to ask for directions, and set off in search of them. I entered a large Cathedral and saw people approaching the monks, kissing the cross... I followed their example. After I'd kissed the cross, I felt much better. I continued my search. I entered a small white church. Suddenly an inner voice said to me: "Here lie the relics of Saint Sergius of Radonezh". I bought a big candle and went into the semidarkness of the church. I saw a tomb covered with silver canopy. A monk was reading something nearby. People were taking turns approaching the tomb, crossing themselves and bowing low, touching the holy relics. I stood for a while, observing how they did this, and then went towards the relics. I went down on my knees before the relics of Saint Sergius and forgot what I had come there for...
Instead of begging Saint Sergius to heal me, I asked him to let me become a member of the Seminary. Kissing the holy relics, I went towards the exit. As I walked though the doors of the Church, it was as if a heavy wet robe had slipped from my shoulders - I felt so light and joyous. My illness had miraculously disappeared. I even forgot to thank Saint Sergius for healing me, for I dashed to the station to hurry back to Moscow.
From Monday, all my affairs went smoothly: together with the other builders I was settled in workers' apartments, and I even got a separate room. I was given an advance and sent to join a crew of tile trimmers.
The problem now was to find a church that I would attend and where I'd get recommendations for joining the Seminary. Even in Soviet times there were over 40 active churches. I began looking at the churches closely, but for some reason couldn't make myself enter any one of them. I kept imagining how the elderly parishioners would scold me for doing something wrong, for not knowing the routine... So I went over several churches, yet could come to no decision. Then I turned to God for guidance: "Lord! Direct me to my Church!" And the Lord heard me!
Once, as I was returning home from work by a trolleybus, I fell asleep and missed my stop. I jumped off at the next one and there, right before me was a small church! The bells were chiming, summoning everyone to service. People were walking towards it... So I joined the crowd... The moment I went inside I felt: this was it. This was my church! Thus, I became a parishioner of the Church of St.John the Precursor, where Archpriest Nikolai Vedernikov was the rector.
I was very fortunate: Father Nikolai was a wonderful preacher. Many of his sermons have remained imprinted in my memory. In this same church I made the acquaintance of a highly intellectual and refined family - the Volgins. These people contributed immensely to my spiritual development. Anatoly Volgin, an icon-painter, was an epistler at the church, while his enchanting and clever wife Nina, an art critic, also participated most actively in the church life of the capital. I think this was my principal good fortune, for which the Lord blessed this particular church for me.
The first to pay heed to me at the church was an old woman by the name of Valentina. She began to invite me over to her place to teach me to read Church Slavonic. Anatoly Volgin finished off my education (he is presently Archpriest). Those were wonderful, unforgettable times that the Lord grants to all those newly-turned to Him. By the time my mother arrived in Moscow I felt quite at home in the church milieu, and was preparing to enter the Seminary the following year - 1977. However, the Lord, in His Divine Providence, chose to alter my plans through the arrival of my mother. I took her on a tour of Moscow's sights, and then we went to the Holy Trinity St.Sergius Monastery. After paying homage to the holy relics, I stood outside waiting for my mother.
Coming towards me from the relics, mother said: "Son, why wait till next year? Why don't you try enrolling in the Seminary this year?"
I laughed: "What are you saying? First you were against, and now you want me to join this year? I only learned the prayer "Our Father" this year! God willing, maybe I shall be ready to join by next year."
"You know," said mother pensively, "as I stood at the holy relics of Saint Sergius, I heard a voice telling me you should enter this year. I give you my blessing - try it this year!"
"All right, mother. If you are giving me your blessing, then I shall give it a try," I agreed.
Mother left, and I handed in my papers to the Seminary registry, and began to prepare for the exams.
When I went to Father Nikolai Vedernikov for the recommendations to enter the Seminary, after stepping into the altar for a few minutes, he came out with a sheet of paper that read: "Agafonov N.V. regularly attended church services for a year on church holidays and Sundays. Archpriest N.Vedernikov."
"Some recommendation!" I thought to myself. When I arrived for the exams to the Seminary, my spirits sank. There were so many entrants from all across the Soviet Union! All thoroughly trained, who'd been attending church services for more than a year. "What am I, a mere working fellow, hoping for?" But then I thought: "Why get so upset beforehand? If I don't enroll this year, there is always the next! I can always try again!"
Once I had decided that, I immediately felt light, and easy, and relaxed. I went to pray to Saint Sergius daily. At the interview with the Rector of the Seminary, Archbishop Vladimir Sabodan (presently Metropolitan of Kiev), when he asked me what I preferred to read, I said that my favorite writer was Dostoyevsky. His Grace the Rector approved my choice. We spoke about Dostoyevsky for some ten minutes more.
The other entrants asked me afterwards: "What took you so long?"
"We discussed the theological aspects in Dostoyevsky's literary legacy," I said to them.
They burst out laughing: "You really are piling it on!" They didn't believe me!..
After the exams, we sat in the refectory: unable to eat due to the anxiety... We  knew the results would be announced after lunch... So, afterwards we rushed to read the lists of those enrolled... I looked through the list but couldn't find my name. Then I looked at another list - these were entrants that could be summoned to fill in vacancies of signed-off seminarists in the course of a year... I wasn't among them, either. I stepped away, disappointed.
My fellow-mates shouted: "Hey! Agafonov! Where are you looking? Here's your name: you've been enlisted straight into the second class!"
It was true! I finally saw a short list of those, immediately entered into the second class, and I was among them!
Thus, I embarked on the road to becoming a clergyman. The Lord works in mysterious ways!
04/22/2005 |