Saint Serge naquit en 1313 à Rostov. Ses parents, Cyrille et Marie,
lui donnèrent au baptème le nom de Barthélémy. Dès le sein de sa mère, Dieu
laissa prévoir la gloire future de son serviteur. C'est ainsi qu'une fois, au
cours de la liturgie avant la lecture de l'Evangile, l'enfant se mit à crier
dans le sein de sa mère, si fort que sa voix fut entendue par d'autres. Au
moment de l'hymne des chérubins, la voix de l'enfant se mit encore à retentir,
ce qui effraya Marie. Lorsque le prêtre prononça l'ecphonèse : «Ce qui est
saint aux saints !», l'enfant poussa un cri pour la troisième fois, et sa mère
commença à pleurer. Ceux qui étaient présents à la liturgie souhaitaient voir
l'enfant; mais la mère fut contrainte de dire qu'il criait non pas sur ses
bras, mais dans son sein. Après cet événement inhabituel, Marie, pendant toute
la période de sa grossesse, ne mangeait ni viande ni lait ni poisson; elle se
nourrissait exclusivement de pain et d'eau, et vaquait à la prière. Lorsqu'il
eut sept ans, on envoya l'enfant ètudier. Or, contrairement à ses frères
Etienne et Pierre qui apprenaient bien, Barthélémy éprouvait des difficultés.
Le maître le punissait, ses camarades se moquaient de lui, ses parents le
réprimandaient; mais Barthélémy, malgré toute sa bonne volonté, ne parvenait
pas à apprendre. C'est alors que se produisit le même phénomène qu'avec Saül.
Un jour, alors que son père l'avait envoyé au champ chercher des chevaux,
Barthélémy aperçut un moine âgé sous un chêne, qui priait en versant des
larmes. Le jeune garçon s'approcha doucement, attendant la fin de la prière du
staretz, qui lui dit: «Que te faut-il, mon enfant?» Barthélémy répondit: «Je ne
puis apprendre malgré mes efforts. Prie Dieu pour moi, saint père, pour que je
puisse apprendre les lettres». Le staretz, en prononçant une prière, donna un
morceau de prosphore à l'enfant et lui dit: «Ne t'afflige point. A partir de ce
jour, le Seigneur te donnera la compréhension des lettres!» Alors que le
staretz voulait sortir, Barthélémy tomba à ses pieds et lui demanda de visiter
la maison de ses parents. Il ajouta: «Mes parents aiment fort les personnes
semblables à toi, Père». L'Ancien, en souriant, se rendit à la maison des
parents de l'enfant, qui le reçurent avec grande considération. Ils le prièrent
de partager leur repas, puis le staretz entra dans la chapelle familiale.
Prenant l'enfant avec lui, le vieux moine lui ordonna de lire les heures.
Cependant, Barthélémy, troublé, répondit qu'il ne pouvait pas lire. Le staretz
réintima l'ordre, et l'enfant, ayant pris sa bénédiction, commença à lire le
psautier correctement et distinctement, à l'étonnement général. A table, les
parents racontèrent au moine ce qui s'était produit à l'église quand l'enfant
était encore dans le sein de sa mère. Le staretz, avant de se séparer d'eux,
dit ces paroles énigmatiques: «Cet enfant va devenir la demeure de la Sainte
Trinité, et amènera une multitude à la compréhension de Sa volonté». Après
cela, Barthélémy commença à fréquenter avec ardeur l'église et à lire la sainte
Ecriture. Après un certain temps, alors qu'il était âgé de douze ans, il se mit
à observer une stricte tempérance, s'abstenant de toute nourriture le mercredi
et le vendredi et se contentant, les autres jours, de pain sec et d'eau. En
raison de certains malheurs qui le frappèrent à Rostov, le père de Barthélémy,
Cyrille, partit à Radonège avec sa famille. Là, Barthélémy continua son ascèse.
Alors que ses deux frères s'étaient mariés, il demanda à ses parents la
permission de s'engager dans la vie monastique. Ceux-ci le prièrent d'ajourner
son désir jusqu'à leur mort. Cependant, peu de temps après, ils entrèrent
eux-mêmes au monastère et décédèrent bientôt. Pendant quarante jours,
Barthélémy pria sur leur tombe, nourrit les pauvres et fit servir des offices
de requiem. Ensuite, il fit don de ses biens à son frère cadet Pierre et décida
d'accomplir son désir. Son frère aîné Etienne, dont la femme était décédée,
effectua sa profession monastique au monastère de Khotov, où ses parents
étaient enterrés. Barthélémy, qui souhaitait une profonde solitude, convainquit
Etienne de rechercher un endroit qui conviendrait mieux à la vie ascétique. Ils
cheminèrent longtemps dans les forêts, puis trouvèrent un endroit approvisionné
en eau et éloigné des chemins battus, à dix verstes de Radonège et de Khotov.
Ils bâtirent une cellule avec une petite église. Le frère cadet, obéissant à
l'aîné, demanda en quel nom serait construite l'église. Barthélémy, se
rappelant les paroles du staretz, répondit qu'il convenait de dédier l'église à
la Sainte Trinité. Le frère cadet dit alors que telle était aussi sa pensée.
L'église fut consacrée avec la bénédiction du métropolite Théognoste. Ayant
demandé à l'higoumène Métrophane de venir, Barthélémy reçut la tonsure
monastique avec le nom de Serge. Il avait alors vingt-quatre ans (1337).
Etienne, quant à lui, parti peu de temps après au monastère de la Theophanie à
Moscou.
Et voici que Serge se trouva seul dans cette forêt, où les loups
hurlaient près de sa cellule. Les ours aussi s'approchaient du lieu où vivait
le saint. Une fois, Serge s'aperçut qu'un ours n'était pas tant féroce
qu'affammé, et il commença à éprouver de la pitié pour cet animal, puis lui
donna de la nourriture. Le fauve s'éprit du père et vint souvent recevoir de
lui sa pitance. Le saint la lui donnait à chaque fois, partageait son dernier
morceau de pain avec cet animal, et allait même jusqu'à se priver de nourriture
pour lui. Saint Serge resta seul pendant trois ans jusqu'à ce que des zélateurs
de la piété commencent à lui demander de vivre sous sa direction spirituelle.
Peu à peu, douze fréres se rasemblèrent, et chacun d'entre eux construisit sa
propre cellule. L'office de minuit, les matines, les heures, les vêpres et les
complies étaient quotidiennement célébrées à l'église. Pour la célébration de
la liturgie, les frères appelaient un prêtre de l'extérieur, car il n'y en
avait pas encore parmi eux. Enfin, l'higoumène Métrophane, qui avait tonsuré
Serge, vint vivre avec eux. Mais, peu de temps après, cet ancien mourut. Quant
à Serge, il ne voulait pas, par humilité, devenir higoumène. Les frères se
réunirent alors, vinrent voir le saint et lui dirent: «Père, nous ne pouvons
vivre sans higoumène, et nous souhaitons que ce soit toi qui remplisses cette
fonction. Ainsi, lorsque nous viendrons te révéler nos péchés, nous recevrons
des enseignements et l'absolution. Il convient également que la liturgie soit
célébrée et que nous recevions les saints Mystères de tes pures mains».
Cependant Serge refusa et, quelques jours après, la communauté se réunit de
nouveau chez le saint, en le priant d'accepter la charge d'higoumène. «Il ne
m'appartient pas d'accomplir le ministère angélique; il m'appartient de pleurer
mes péchés», répondit-il. Les frères pleurèrent et dirent enfin: «Si tu ne veux
pas prendre soin de nos âmes, nous serons contraints de quitter ce lieu, nous
errerons alors comme des brebis égarées, et tu devras en répondre devant Dieu.»
«Je préfère me soumettre que de commander, dit Serge; mais, craignant le
jugement de Dieu, je laisse ce problème à la volonté du Seigneur». Prenant avec
lui deux des moines les plus âgés, il se rendit à Péréïaslavl, chez Athanase,
l'évêque de Volynie, auquel S. Alexis, alors à Constantinople, avait remis les
affaires du diocèse metropolitain.
En 1354, Serge fut ordonné prêtre et élevé au rang d'higoumène par
l'évêque Athanase. Il célébrait quotidiennement la sainte liturgie, et arrivait
le premier à l'église pour chaque office. Il fabriquait lui-même les cierges et
les prosphores, ne permettant jamais à quiconque de participer à cette dernière
tâche. Pendant trois ans, le nombre des moines resta identique, le premier qui
fit augmenter ce nombre fut l'archimandrite Simon de Smolensk, qui préférait
obéir à S. Serge plutôt que commander ailleurs.
Le soir après les complies, et sauf en cas de besoin urgent, nul
n'avait l'autorisation de se rendre dans la cellule d'un autre moine. Car les
heures de la nuit devaient être réservées à Dieu seul. Le reste du temps, ils
restaient dans le silence à alterner la prière et le travail manuel. A la fin
de la prière que les frères devaient accomplir dans leur cellule, le saint faisait
secrètement le tour de celles-ci. S'il entendait de vaines conversations ou des
rires, il frappait à la fenêtre pour les faire cesser et s'en allait tout
triste. Le matin, il réunissait les fautifs, et «de loin», à l'aide de
paraboles et sur un ton humble et doux, il les instruisait. Il n'employait une
sévérité toute mesurée que pour ceux qui refusaient de faire pénitence et
persistaient dans leurs fautes. Il aimait tant la pauvreté qu'il institua comme
règle stricte de ne jamais faire de quête au profit du monastère: quels que
soient ses besoins. Le dépouillement était extrême dans la communauté: On
s'éclairait avec des tisons pour l'office, et les livres étaient faits en
écorce de bouleau. Un jour, le monastère se trouva réduit à une si extrême misère
qu'on ne pouvait plus y trouver ni pain ni eau. Après avoir passé trois jours
sans nourriture, Serge se rendit chez le frère Daniel et lui dit: «J'ai entendu
que tu voudrais construire une entrée devant ta cellule. Je te la construirai
afin que mes mains ne restent pas oisives. Cela ne te coûtera pas cher, je veux
du pain avarié et tu en as.» Daniel lui apporta donc des morceaux de pain
moisis qu'il avait chez lui. «Garde-les, lui dit le saint, jusqu'à la neuvième
heure; je ne prends pas de salaire avant d'avoir travaillé». Ayant achevé son
travail, Serge pria, bénit le pain, en mangea, puis but de l'eau, ce qui
constitua son repas. En raison de l'absence de nourriture, les frères
commencèrent à manifester leur mécontentement: «Nous mourons de faim», dirent
les faibles, «et tu ne permets pas de demander l'aumône. Demain, nous partirons
d'ici, chacun de son côté, et nous ne reviendrons plus ! » Le saint les
persuada alors de ne pas affaiblir leur espoir en Dieu. «Je crois, dit-il, que
Dieu ne délaissera pas les habitants de ce lieu». A ce moment, on entendit
quelq'un frapper à la porte. Le portier vit que l'on avait apporté beaucoup de
pains. Il accourut tout joyeux, et dit à l'higoumène: «Père, on nous a apporté
beaucoup de pains. Donne-nous ta bénédiction afin que nous les prenions! » Le
saint ordonna de laisser entrer les bienfaiteurs, et convia tous les frères à
table, ayant au préalable célébré un office d'action de grâces. «Où sont ceux
qui nous ont apportè ces dons ?» demanda-t-il. «Nous les avons invites à table
et leur avons demandé qui les avait envoyés», répondit le moine, «et ils nous
dirent que c'était quelqu'un qui aime le Christ, qui les avait envoyés; mais
que, ayant une autre tâche accomplir, ils devaient partir».
Une autre fois, le saint, tard dans la soirée, priait pour les
frères de son monastère. Soudain, il entendit une voix lui dire: «Serge! »
Ayant terminé une prière, il ouvrit la fenêtre et aperçut une lumière
inhabituelle qui descendait du ciel, et la voix continua: «Serge ! Le Seigneur
a entendu la prière pour tes enfants; vois quelle multitude s'est rassemblée
autour de toi au nom de la Sainte Trinité». Alors, le saint vit une multitude
d'oiseaux merveilleux, volant non seulement dans le monastère, mais également
tout autour. «Ainsi, poursuivit la voix, se multipliera le nombre de tes
disciples et il ne te manquera point de successeurs pour marcher sur tes
traces».
Peu de temps après, le patriarche Philothée' fit parvenir au saint
une croix et encore d'autres présents avec une lettre, dont voici le contenu :
«Par la Miséricorde Divine, l'archevêque de Constantinople, patriarche
œcuménique, Philothée, à Serge, fils dans le Saint-Esprit et concélébrant de
notre humble personne. Que la grâce, la paix et notre bénédiction soient avec
vous tous! Nous avons entendu parler de ta vie vertueuse, nous l'approuvons, et
nous en glorifions Dieu. Mais il te manque une chose: la vie commune
(cénobitique). Tu sais, Père très semblable au Christ, que le parent de Dieu,
le prophète David, qui saisissait tout par son esprit, loua la vie commune.
«Qu'y a-t-il de meilleur et de plus beau pour des frères gue de vivre ensemble»
? (Ps 132). Pour cela, je vais vous donner un conseil utile: instituez le
cénobitisme. Que la miséricorde de Dieu et notre bénédiction soient avec vous!
» Suivant le conseil du patriarche, le saint, avec la bénédiction du
métropolite Alexis, introduisit la vie commune intégrale dans son monastère. Il
construisit les bâtiments nécessaires, définit les devoirs propres à cette vie,
et ordonna que toute chose soit commune, interdisant d'avoir sa propriété ou
d'appeler quelque chose «sien». Le nombre des disciples s'accrut alors et
l'abondance régna au monastère. On introduisit l'hospitalité, on nourrit les
pauvres et on donna l'aumône à ceux qui le demandaient. Saint Serge s'était
soumis à ce conseil du patriarche par esprit d'obéissance. Bien qu'il demeurât
amant de la solitude, il accepta d'assumer cette forme plus rigide de
direction, sans cesser pourtant d'être un père et un éducateur plutôt qu'un
administrateur. Mais il devait bientôt subir de cruelles épreuves. Un samedi,
le saint se trouvait dans le sanctuaire, célébrant les vêpres. Son frère,
revenu au monastère, demanda au canonarque: «Qui t'a donné ce livre ?»
«L'higoumène», répondit celui-ci. «Qui est higoumène ici ?» répondit à son tour
Etienne, avec colère. «N'ai-je pas fondé ce lieu en premier ?» A ceci, il
ajouta de violentes paroles. Le saint entendait tout cela dans le sanctuaire,
et il comprit que cette manifestation de mécontentement était dûe en fait au
nouvel ordre qui régnait dans le monastère. Mécontents du cénobitisme, certains
quittèrent en secret le monastère, et d'autres souhaitaient ne plus avoir Serge
pour higoumène. Le saint, laissant ceux qui voulaient vivre selon leur volonté
face à leur conscience, ne rentra même pas dans sa cellule, mais s'éloigna du
monastère. Les meilleurs moines étaient inquiets, mais pensaient encore que
Serge reviendrait. Toutefois, leur attente fut déçue. Le saint s'installa à
Kirjatch. Sur la demande de certains, saint Alexis dépêcha une délégation
auprès de saint Serge,afin qu'il revînt au monastère où il était si utile. Mais
saint Alexis, sentant sa mort prochaine, souhaitait trouver en la personne de
Serge son successeur. Il le fit venir chez, lui fit cadeau de sa croix
épiscopale. Mais saint Serge, par humilité, la refusa en disant: «Pardonne-moi,
Seigneur, mais depuis mon enfance je n'ai jamais porté d'or et maintenant, je
souhaite d'autant plus rester dans le dépouillement». «Je le sais, bien-aimé,
mais accepte par obéissance!» répondit Alexis. Ce faisant, il lui passa la
croix autour du cou et lui annonça qu'il le désignait comme son successeur.
«Pardonne-moi, vénéré pasteur, mais tu veux me charger d'un fardeau qui dépasse
mes forces. Tu ne trouveras pas en moi ce que tu cherches. Je suis le plus
pécheur et le pire de tous.»
Lorsque les hordes tatares déferlèrent sur la terre russe, et alors
que la population était effrayée, le grand Duc Dimitri Ioannovitch, qui avait
une grande foi en saint Serge, lui demanda s'il devait entrer en guerre contre
les impies Tatares. Le saint bénit le grand Duc pour entrer en guerre et lui
dit: «Avec l'aide de Dieu, tu seras victorieux et tu sortiras de la bataille
sain et sauf et couvert d'honneurs.». Au moment de la bataille de Koulikovo*,
le saint était en prière avec ses frères et parlait du déroulement heureux des
combats. Il citait même les noms de ceux qui tombaient, faisant une prière pour
eux. Conformément à la prédiction de saint Serge, le grand Duc remporta la
célèbre victoire de Koulikovo, qui constituait le début de la délivrance du
joug tatare.
Une nuit, alors que saint Serge chantait l'Acathiste à la Mère de
Dieu et lui adressait de ferventes prières pour le monastère devant son icône,
il s'interrompit un instant pour dire à son disciple Michée: «Sois vigilant,
mon enfant, car nous allons recevoir une visite miraculeuse!» A peine avait-il
prononcé ces paroles qu'il entendit une voix: «La Très Pure arrive! » Il se
précipita à l'entrée de sa cellule et, soudain, une lumière inhabituelle
l'entoura, plus éclatante encore que le soleil. Il vit la Très Sainte Mère de
Dieu, accompagnée des Apôtres Pierre et Jean, rayonnante d'une gloire
indescriptible. Le saint se prosterna à terre, mais la Mère de Dieu le toucha
de sa main et dit: «Ne crains point, mon élu! Je suis venue te visiter, car
j'ai entendu ta prière pour tes disciples et pour ce lieu. Dorénavant je ne
quitterai pas ton monastère, durant ta vie comme après ta mort, et je le
protégerai». Après cela, le saint resta sans sommeil toute la nuit, méditant
avec piété sur la miséricorde céleste.
Six mois avant son trépas, le saint, appelant sa communauté, la
recommanda à Nicon, et se consacra lui-même à la solitude et à la prière. En
septembre, il pressentit la maladie, appela de nouveau les frères et leur donna
à tous ses dernières instructions. Il mourut le 25 septembre 1391, à l'âge de
78 ans.
* Bataille décisive pour la Russie, que l'on peut comparer à la
bataille de Poitiers en France.
"Le Synaxaire. Vies des Saints de l'Eglise Orthodoxe"
Editions "To Perivoli tis Panaghias", © S. M. Simonos Petras, Mont
Athos
SOURCE : http://www.egliserusse.eu/blogdiscussion/Saint-Serge-de-Radonege-1392_a304.html
The Life of our Venerable Father Amongst the Saints St. Sergius of
Radonezh
Part 1 Childhood & the Hermitage
Our holy Father Sergius was born of noble, Orthodox,
devout parents. His father was named Cyril and his mother Mary. They found
favour with God; they were honourable in the sight of God and man, and abounded
in those virtues which are well-pleasing unto God. Cyril had three sons,
Stephen, Bartholomew, and Peter, whom he brought up in strict piety and purity.
Stephen and Peter quickly learned to read and write,
but the second boy did not so easily learn to write, and worked slowly and
inattentively; his master taught him with care, but the boy could not put his
mind to his studies, nor understand, nor do the same as his companions who were
studying with him. As a result he suffered from the many reproaches of his
parents, and still more from the punishments of his teacher and the ridicule of
his companions. The boy often prayed to God in secret and with many tears:
"O Lord, give me understanding of this learning. Teach me, Lord, enlighten
and instruct me." His reverence for God prompted him to pray that he might
receive knowledge from God and not from men.
One day his father sent him to seek for a lost foal. On
his way he met a monk, a venerable elder, a stranger, a priest, with the
appearance of an angel. This stranger was standing beneath an oak tree, praying
devoutly and with much shedding of tears. The boy, seeing him, humbly made a
low obeisance, and awaited the end of his prayers.
The venerable monk, when he had ended his prayers,
glanced at the boy and, conscious that he beheld the chosen vessel of the Holy
Spirit, he called him to his side, blessed him, bestowed on him a kiss in the
name of Christ, and asked: "What art thou seeking, or what dost thou want,
child?" The boy answered, "My soul desires above all things to
understand the Holy Scriptures. I have to study reading and writing, and 1 am
sorely vexed that 1 cannot learn these things. Will you, holy Father, pray to
God for me, that he will give me understanding of book-learning?" The monk
raised his hands and his eyes toward heaven, sighed, prayed to God, then said,
"Amen."
Taking out from his satchel, as it were some treasure,
with three fingers, he handed to the boy what appeared to be a little bit of
white wheaten bread prosphora, saying to him: "Take this in thy mouth, child,
and eat; this is given thee as a sign of God's grace and for the understanding
of Holy Scriptures. Though the gift appears but small, the taste thereof is
very sweet."
The boy opened his mouth and ate, tasting a sweetness
as of honey, wherefore he said, "Is it not written, How sweet are thy
words to my palate, more than honey to my lips, and my soul doth cherish them
exceedingly?" The monk answered and said, "If thou believest, child,
more than this will be revealed to thee; and do not vex thyself about reading
and writing; thou wilt find that from this day forth the Lord will give thee
learning above that of thy brothers and others of thine own age."
Having thus informed him of divine favour, the monk
prepared to proceed on his way. But the boy flung himself, with his face to the
ground, at the feet of the monk, and besought him to come and visit his
parents, saying, "My parents dearly love persons such as you are,
Father." The monk, astonished at his faith, accompanied him to his
parents' house.
At the sight of the stranger, Cyril and Mary came out
to meet him, and bowed low before him. The monk blessed them, and they offered
him food, but before accepting any food, the monk went into the chapel, taking
with him the boy whose consecration had been signified even before birth, and
began a recitation of the Canonical Hours, telling the boy to read the Psalms.
The boy said, "I do not know them, Father." The monk replied, "I
told thee that from today the Lord would give thee knowledge in reading and
writing; read the Word of God, nothing doubting." Whereupon, to the
astonishment of all present, the boy, receiving the monk's blessing, began to
recite in excellent rhythm; and from that hour he could read.
His parents and brothers praised God, and after
accompanying the monk to the house, placed food before him. Having eaten, and
bestowed a blessing on the parents, the monk was anxious to proceed on his way.
But the parents pleaded, "Reverend Father, hurry not away, but stay and comfort
us and calm our fears. Our humble son, whom you bless and praise, is to us an
object of marvel. While he was yet in his mother's womb three times he uttered
a cry in church during holy Liturgy. Wherefore we fear and doubt of what is to
be, and what he is to do."
The holy monk, after considering and becoming aware of
that which was to be, exclaimed, "O blessed pair, 0 worthy couple, giving
birth to such a child! Why do you fear where there is no place for fear? Rather
rejoice and be glad, for the boy will be great before God and man, thanks to
his life of godliness." Having thus spoken the monk left, pronouncing an
obscure saying that their son would serve the Holy Trinity and would lead many
to an understanding of the divine precepts. They accompanied him to the doorway
of their house, when he became of a sudden invisible. Perplexed, they wondered
if he had been an angel, sent to give the boy knowledge of reading.
After the departure of the monk, it became evident that
the boy could read any book, and was altogether changed; he was submissive in
all things to his parents, striving to fulfil their wishes, and never
disobedient. Applying himself solely to glorifying God, and rejoicing therein,
he attended assiduously in Gods church, being present daily at Matins, at the
Liturgy, at Vespers. He studied holy scripts, and at all times, in every way,
he disciplined his body and preserved himself in purity of body and soul.
Cyril, devout servant of God, led the life of a wealthy
and renowned boyar, in the province of Rostov, but in later years he was
reduced to poverty. He, like others, suffered from the invasions of Tatar
hordes into Russia, from the skirmishes of troops, the frequent demands for
tribute, and from repeated bad harvests, in conjunction with the period of
violence and disorder which followed the great Tatar war.
When the principality of Rostov fell into the hands of
the Grand Duke Ivan Danilovich of Moscow, distress prevailed in the town of
Rostov, and not least among the princes and boyars. They were deprived of
power, of their properties, of honours and rank, of all of which Moscow became
the possessor. By order of the Grand Duke they left Rostov, and a certain
noble, Vasilii Kochev, with another called Minas, were sent from Moscow to
Rostov as voevodas (messengers).
On arrival in the town of Rostov these two governors
imposed a levy on the town and on the inhabitants. A severe persecution
followed, and many of the remaining inhabitants of Rostov were constrained to
surrender their estates to the Muscovites, in exchange for which they received
wounds and humiliations, and went forth empty-handed and really as beggars. In
brief, Rostov was subjected to every possible humiliation, even to the hanging,
head downward, of their governor, Averkii, one of the chief boyars of Rostov.
Seeing and hearing of all this, terror spread among the
people, not only in the town of Rostov but in all the surrounding country.
Cyril, Gods devout servant, avoided further misfortune by escaping from his
native town. He assembled his entire household and family and with them removed
from Rostov to Radonezh, where he settled near the church dedicated to the
Birth of Christ, which is still standing to this day.
Cyril's two sons, Stephen and Peter, married, but his
second son, Bartholomew, would not contemplate marriage, being desirous of
becoming a monk. He often expressed this wish to his father, but his parents
said to him, "My son, wait a little and bear with us; we are old, poor and
sick, and we have no one to look after us, for both your brothers are
married." The wondrous youth gladly promised to care for them to the end
of their days, and from henceforth strove for his parents' well-being, until
they entered the monastic life and went one to a monastery, and the other to a
convent. They lived but a few years, and passed away to God. Blessed
Bartholomew laid his parents in their graves, mourned for them forty days, then
returned to his house.
Calling his younger brother Peter, he bestowed his
share of his father's inheritance on him, retaining nothing for himself. The
wife of his elder brother, Stephen, died also, leaving two sons, Clement and
Ivan. Stephen soon renounced the world and became a monk in the Monastery of
the Theotokis at Khotkov. Blessed Bartholomew now came to him, and begged him
to accompany him in the search for some desert place. Stephen assented, and he
and the saint together explored many parts of the forest, till finally they
came to a waste space in the middle of the forest, near a stream. After
inspecting the place they obeyed the voice of God and were satisfied.
Having prayed, they set about chopping wood and
carrying it. First they built a hut, and then constructed a small chapel. When
the chapel was finished and the time had come to dedicate it, Blessed
Bartholomew said to Stephen, "Now, my lord and eldest brother by birth and
by blood, tell me, in honour of whose feast shall this chapel be, and to which
saint shall we dedicate it?" Stephen answered: "Why do you ask me,
and why put me to the test? You were chosen of God while you were yet in your
mother's womb, and he gave a sign concerning you before ever you were born,
that the child would be a disciple of the Blessed Trinity, and not he alone
would have devout faith, for he would lead many others and teach them to
believe in the Holy Trinity. it behoves you, therefore, to dedicate a chapel
above all others to the Blessed Trinity." The favoured youth gave a deep
sigh and said, "To tell the truth, my lord and brother, I asked you
because I felt I must, although I wanted and thought likewise as you do, and
desired with my whole soul to erect and dedicate this chapel to the Blessed
Trinity, but out of humility I inquired of you." And he went forthwith to
obtain the blessing of the ruling prelate for its consecration.
From the town came the priest sent by Feognost,
Metropolitan of Kiev and all Russia, and the chapel was consecrated and
dedicated to the the Most Holy Trinity in the reign of the Grand Duke Semion
Ivanovich, we believe in the beginning of his reign. The chapel being now built
and dedicated, Stephen did not long remain in the wilderness with his brother.
He realised soon all the labours in this desert place, the hardships, the
all-pervading need and want, and that there were no means of satisfying hunger
and thirst, nor any other necessity.
As yet no one came to the saint, nor brought him
anything, for at this time, nowhere around was there any village, nor house,
nor people; neither was there road or pathway, but everywhere on all sides were
forest and wasteland. Stephen, seeing this, was troubled, and he decided to
leave the wilderness, and with it his own brother the saintly desert-lover and
desert-dweller. He went from thence to Moscow, and when he reached this city he
settled in the Monastery of the Epiphany, found a cell, and dwelt in it,
exercising himself in virtue. Hard labour was to him a joy, and he passed his
time in ascetic practices in his cell, disciplining himself by fasting and
praying, refraining from all indulgence, even from drinking Kvas (a mild
russian beer).
Part 2
Hermetic Life
Aleksei, the future metropolitan, who at this
time had not been raised to the rank of bishop, was living in the monastery of
the Theotokis in Khotkov, leading a quiet monastic life. Stephen and he spent
much time together in spiritual exercises, and they sang in the choir side by
side. The Grand Duke Simion came to hear of Stephen and the godly life he led
and commanded the Metropolitan Theognost to ordain him priest and, later, to
appoint him abbot of the monastery. Aware of his great virtues, the Grand Duke
also appointed him as his confessor. Our saint, Sergius, had not taken monastic
vows at this time for, as yet, he had not enough experience of monastic life,
and of all that is required of a monk.
After a while, however, he invited a spiritual elder,
who held the dignity of priest and abbot, named Mitrofan, to come and visit him
in his solitude. In great humility he entreated him, "Father, may the love
of God be with us, and give me the tonsure of a monk. From childhood have I
loved God and set my heart on Him these many years, but my parents' needs
withheld me. Now, my lord and father, I am free from all bonds, and I thirst,
as the hart thirsteth for the springs of living water." The abbot
forthwith went into the chapel with him, and gave him the tonsure on the 7th
day of October on the feast day of the blessed martyrs Sergius and Bacchus. And
Sergius was the name he received as monk. In those days it was the custom to
give to the newly tonsured monk the name of the saint whose feast day it happened
to be.
Our saint was twenty-three years old when he joined the
order of monks. Blessed Sergius, the newly tonsured monk, partook of the Holy
Sacrament and received the grace of God and the gift of the Holy Spirit. From
one whose witness is true and sure, we are told that when Sergius partook of
the Holy Sacrament the chapel was filled with a sweet odour; and not only in
the chapel, but all around was the same fragrant smell. The saint remained in
the chapel seven days, touching no food other than one consecrated loaf given
him by the abbot, refusing all else and giving himself up to fasting and
prayer, having on his lips the Psalms of David.
When Mitrofan bade farewell, St. Sergius in all
humility said to him: "Give me your blessing, and pray regarding my
solitude; and instruct one living alone in the wilderness how to pray to the
Lord God; how to remain unharmed; how to wrestle with the evil one and with
one's own temptation to fall into pride, for I am but a novice and a newly
tonsured monk." The abbot was astonished and almost afraid. He replied,
"You ask of me concerning that which you know no less well than we do, 0
Reverend Father."
After discoursing with him for a while on spiritual
matters, and commending him to God, Mitrofan went away, leaving St. Sergius
alone to silence and the wilderness. Who can recount his labours? Who can
number the trials he endured living alone in the wilderness? Under different
forms, and from time to time, the devil wrestled with the saint, but the demons
beset St. Sergius in vain; no matter what visions they evoked, they failed to
overcome the firm and fearless spirit of the ascetic. At one moment it was
Satan who laid his snares; at another, incursions of wild beasts took place,
for many were the wild animals inhabiting this wilderness. Some of these
remained at a distance; others came near the saint, surrounded him and even
sniffed him.
In particular a bear used to come to the holy man.
Seeing the animal did not come to harm him, but in order to get some food, the
saint brought a small slice of bread from his but, and placed it on a log or
stump, so the bear learned to come for the meal thus prepared for him, and
having eaten it went away again. If there was no bread, and the bear did not
find his usual slice, he would wait about for a long while and look around on
all sides, rather like some moneylender waiting to receive payment of his debt.
At this time Sergius had no variety of foods in the
wilderness, only bread and water from the spring, and a great scarcity of
these. Often, bread was not to be found; then both he and the bear went hungry.
Sometimes, although there was but one slice of bread, the saint gave it to the
bear, being unwilling to disappoint him of his food.
He diligently read the Holy Scriptures to obtain a
knowledge of all virtue, in his secret meditations training his mind in a
longing for eternal bliss. Most wonderful of all, none knew the measure of his
ascetic and godly life spent in solitude. God, the beholder of all hidden
things, alone saw it. Whether he lived two years or more in the wilderness
alone we do not know; God knows only. The Lord, seeing his very great faith and
patience, took compassion on him and, desirous of relieving his solitary
labours, put into the hearts of certain god-fearing monks to visit him. The
saint inquired of them, "Are you able to endure the hardships of this
place, hunger and thirst, and every kind of want?" They replied,
"Yes, Reverend Father, we are willing with God's help and with your prayers."
Holy Sergius, seeing their faith and zeal, marvelled,
and said: "My brethren, I desired to dwell alone in the wilderness and,
furthermore, to die in this place. If it be Gods will that there shall be a
monastery in this place, and that many brethren will be gathered here, then may
God's holy will be done. I welcome you with joy, but let each one of you build
himself a cell. Furthermore, let it be known unto you, if you come to dwell in
the wilderness, the beginning of righteousness is the fear of the Lord."
To increase his own fear of the Lord he spent day and
night in the study of God's word. Moreover, young in years, strong and healthy
in body, he could do the work of two men or more. The devil now strove to wound
him with the darts of concupiscence. The saint, aware of these attacks of the
enemy, disciplined his body and exercised his soul, mastering it with fasting,
and thus was he protected by the grace of God.
Although not yet raised to the office of priesthood,
dwelling in company with the brethren, he was present daily with them in church
for the reciting of the offices, Nocturnes, Matins, the Hours, and Vespers. For
the Liturgy a priest, who was an abbot, came from one of the villages. At first
Sergius did not wish to be raised to the priesthood and especially he did not
want to become an abbot; this was by reason of his extreme humility. He
constantly remarked that the beginning and root of all evil lay in pride of
rank, and ambition to be an abbot. The monks were but few in number, about a
dozen.
They constructed themselves cells, not very large ones,
within the enclosure, and put up gates at the entrance. Sergius built four
cells with his own hands, and performed other monastic duties at the request of
the brethren; he carried logs from the forest on his shoulders, chopped them up
and carried them into the cells. The monastery, indeed, came to be a wonderful
place to look upon. The forest was not far distant from it as now it is; the
shade and the murmur of trees hung above the cells; around the church was a
space of trunks and stumps; here many kinds of vegetables were sown. But to
return to the exploits of St. Sergius. He flayed the grain and ground it in the
mill, baked the bread and cooked the food, cut out shoes and clothing and
stitched them; he drew water from the spring flowing nearby, and carried it in
two pails on his shoulders, and put water in each cell. He spent the night in
prayer, without sleep, feeding only on bread and water, and that in small
quantifies; and never spent an idle hour.
Within the space of a year the abbot who had given the
tonsure to St. Sergius fell ill, and after a short while, he passed out of this
life. Then God put it into the hearts of the brethren to go to blessed Sergius,
and to say to him: "Father, we cannot continue without an abbot. We desire
you to be the guide of our souls and bodies." The saint sighed from the
bottom of his heart, and replied, "I have had no thought of becoming
abbot, for my soul longs to finish its course here as an ordinary monk."
Part 3
His Abbothood
Within the space of a year the abbot who had given the
tonsure to St. Sergius fell ill, and after a short while, he passed out of this
life. Then God put it into the hearts of the brethren to go to blessed Sergius,
and to say to him: "Father, we cannot continue without an abbot. We desire
you to be the guide of our souls and bodies." The saint sighed from the
bottom of his heart, and replied, "I have had no thought of becoming
abbot, for my soul longs to finish its course here as an ordinary monk."
The brethren urged him again and again to be their
abbot; finally, overcome by his compassionate love, but groaning inwardly, he
said: "Fathers and brethren, I will say no more against it, and will
submit to the will of God. He sees into our hearts and souls. We will go into
the town, to the bishop." Aleksei, the Metropolitan of all Russia, was
living at this time in Constantinople, and he had nominated Bishop Afanasii of
Volynia in his stead in the town of Pereiaslavl. Our blessed Sergius went, therefore,
to the bishop, taking with him two elders; and entering into his presence made
a low obeisance.
Afanasii rejoiced exceedingly at seeing him, and kissed
him in the name of Christ. He had heard tell of the saint and of his beginning
of good deeds, and he spoke to him of the workings of the Spirit. Our Blessed
Father Sergius begged the bishop to give them an abbot, and a guide of their
souls. The venerable Afanasii replied, "Thyself, son and brother, God
called in thy mother's womb. It is thou who wilt be father and abbot of thy
brethren." Blessed Sergius refused, insisting on his unworthiness, but
Afanasii said to him, "Beloved, thou hast acquired all virtue save
obedience." Blessed Sergius, bowing low, replied-. "May God's will be
done. Praised be the Lord forever and forever." They all answered,
"Amen." Without delay the holy bishop, Afanasii, led blessed Sergius
to the church, and ordained him subdeacon and then deacon.
The following morning the saint was raised to the
dignity of priesthood, and was told to say the holy liturgy and to offer the
bloodless Sacrifice. Later, taking him to one side, the bishop spoke to him of
the teachings of the Apostles and of the holy fathers, for the edification and
guidance of souls. After bestowing on him a kiss in the name of Christ, he sent
him forth, in very deed an abbot, pastor, and guardian, and physician of his
spiritual brethren.
He had not taken upon himself the rank of abbot; he
received the leadership from God; he had not sought it, nor striven for it; he
did not obtain it by payment, as do others who have pride of rank, chasing
hither and thither, plotting and snatching power from one another. God himself
led his chosen disciple and exalted him to the dignity of abbot.
Our revered father and abbot Sergius returned to his
monastery, to the abode dedicated to the Holy Trinity, and the brethren, coming
out to meet him, bowed low to the ground before him. He blessed them, and said:
"Brethren, pray for me. I am altogether ignorant, and I have received a
talent from the Highest, and 1 shall have to render an account of it, and of
the flock committed to me." There were twelve brethren when he first
became abbot, and he was the thirteenth. And this number remained, neither
increasing nor diminishing, until Simon, the archimandrite of Smolensk, arrived
among them. From that time onward their numbers constantly increased. This
wondrous man, Simon, was chief archimandrite, excellent, eminent, abounding in
virtue. Having heard of our Reverend Father Sergius' way of life, he laid aside
honours, left the goodly city of Smolensk, and arrived at the monastery where,
greeting our Reverend Father Sergius with the greatest humility, he entreated
him to allow him to live under him and his rules in all submission and
obedience: and he offered the estate he owned as a gift to the abbot for the
benefit of the monastery. Blessed Sergius welcomed him with great joy.
Simon lived many years, submissive and obedient,
abounding in virtue, and died in advanced old age. Stephen, the saint's
brother, came with his younger son, Ivan, from Moscow and, presenting him to
Abbot Sergius, asked him to give him the tonsure. Abbot Sergius did so, and
gave him the name of Theodore; from his earliest years the boy had been taught abstinence,
piety, and chastity, following his uncle's precepts; according to some accounts
he was given the tonsure when he was ten years old, others say twelve. People
from many parts, towns and countries, came to live with Abbot Sergius, and
their names are written in the book of life. The monastery bit by bit grew in
size.
It is recorded in the Paterikon -that is to say, in the
book of the early fathers of the Church - that the holy fathers in assembly
prophesied about later generations, saying that the last would be weak. But, of
the later generations, God made Sergius as strong as one of the early fathers.
God made him a lover of hard work, and to be the head over a great number of
monks. From the time he was appointed abbot, the holy Liturgy was sung every
day. He himself baked the holy bread; first he flayed and ground the wheat,
sifted the flour, kneaded and fermented the dough; he entrusted the making of
the holy bread to no one. He also cooked the grains for the "kutia,"
and he also made the candles.
Although occupying the chief place as abbot, he did not
alter in any way his monastic rules. He was lowly and humble with all people,
and was an example to all. He never sent away anyone who came to him for the
tonsure, neither old nor young, nor rich nor poor; he received them all with
fervent joy; but he did not give them the tonsure at once. He who would be a
monk was ordered, first, to put on a long, black cloth garment and to live with
the brethren until he got accustomed to all the monastic rules; then, later, he
was given full monk's attire of cloak and hood. Finally, when he was deemed
worthy, he was allowed the "schema," the mark of the ascetic.
After Vespers, and late at night, especially on long
dark nights, the saint used to leave his cell and do the rounds of the monk's
cells. If he heard anyone saying his prayers, or making genuflections, or busy
with his own handiwork, he was gratified and gave thanks to God. If, on the
other hand, he heard two or three monks chatting together, or laughing, he was
displeased, rapped on the door or window, and passed. on. In the morning he
would send for them and, indirectly, quietly and gently, by means of some
parable, reprove them. If he was a humble and submissive brother he would quickly
admit his fault and, bowing low before St. Sergius, would beg his forgiveness.
If, instead, he was not a humble brother, and stood erect thinking he was not
the person referred to, then the saint, with patience, would make it clear to
him, and order him to do a public penance.
In this way they all learned to pray to God
assiduously; not to chat with one another after Vespers, and to do their own
handiwork with all their might; and to have the Psalms of David all day on
their lips.
In the beginning, when the monastery was first built,
many were the hardships and privations. A main road lay a long way off, and
wilderness surrounded the monastery. Here the monks lived, it is believed, for
fifteen years. Then, in the time of the Grand Duke Ivan Ivanovich Christians
began to arrive from all parts and to settle in the vicinity. The forest was
cut down; there was no one to prevent it; the trees were hewn down, none were
spared, and the forest was converted into an open plain as we now see it. A
village was built, and houses; and visitors came to the monastery bringing
their countless offerings. But in the beginning, when they settled in this
place, they all suffered great privations. At times there was no bread or
flour, and all means of subsistence was lacking; at times there was no wine for
the Eucharist, nor incense, nor wax candles. The monks sang Matins at dawn with
no lights save that of a single birch or pine torch.
One day there was a great scarcity of bread and salt in
the whole monastery. The saintly abbot gave orders to all the brethren that
they were not to go out, nor beg from the laity, but to remain patiently in the
monastery and await God's compassion. He himself spent three or four days
without any food. On the fourth day, at dawn, taking an axe, he went to one of
the elders, by name Daniel, and said to him: "I have heard tell that you
want to build an entrance in front of your cell. See, 1 have come to build it
for you, so that my hands shall not remain idle." Daniel replied,
"Yes, I have been waiting for it a long while, and am as yet awaiting the
carpenter from the village; but I am afraid to employ you, for you will require
a large payment from me." Sergius said to him: "I do not require a
large sum of money. Have you any mildewed loaves? I very much want to eat some
such loaves. 1 do not ask from you anything else. Where will you find another
carpenter like me?" Daniel brought him a few mildewed loaves, saying,
"This is all I have." Sergius said: "That will be enough, and to
spare. But bide it until evening. I take no pay before the work is done."
Saying which, and tightening his belt, he chopped and worked all day, cut
planks and put up the entrance.
At the close of day, Daniel brought him the sieveful of
the promised loaves. Sergius, offering a prayer and grace, distributed the
bread to the brethren, ate his portion of bread and drank some water. He had
neither soup nor salt; the bread was both dinner and supper. Several of the
brethren noticed something in the nature of a faint breath of smoke issuing
from his lips, and turning to one another they said, "Oh, brother, what
patience and self-control has this man!" But one of the monks, not having
had anything to eat for two days, murmured against Sergius, and went up to him
and said: "Why this mouldy bread? Why should we not go outside and beg for
some bread? If we obey you we shall perish of hunger. Tomorrow morning we will
leave this place and go hence and not return; we cannot any longer endure such
want and scarcity."
Not all of them complained, only the one brother, but
because of this one, Sergius, seeing they were enfeebled and in distress,
convoked the whole brotherhood and gave them instruction from Holy Scriptures:
"God's Grace cannot be given without trials; after tribulations comes joy.
It is written, at evening there shall be weeping but in the morning gladness.
You, at present, have no bread or food, and tomorrow you will enjoy an
abundance." And as he was yet speaking there came a rapping at the gates.
The porter, peeping through an aperture, saw that a
store of provisions had been brought; he was so overjoyed that he did not open
the gates but ran first to St. Sergius to tell him. The saint gave the order at
once, "Open the gates quickly, let them come in, and let those persons who
have brought the provisions be invited to share the meal"; while he
himself, before all else, directed that the bell should be sounded, and with
the brethren he went into the church to sing a Moleben of Thanksgiving. Returning
from church, they went into the refectory, and the newly arrived, fresh bread
was placed before them. The bread was still warm and soft, and the taste of it
was of an unimaginable strange sweetness, as it were honey mingled with juice
of barley and spices.
When they had eaten, the saint remarked: "And
where is our brother who was murmuring about mouldy bread? May he notice that
it is sweet and fresh. Let us remember the prophet who said, 'Ashes have I
eaten for bread and mixed my drink with tears.' Then he inquired whose bread it
was, and who had sent it. The messengers announced, "A pious layman, very
wealthy, living a great distance away, sent it to Sergius and his
brotherhood." Again the monks, on Sergius' orders, invited the men to sup
with them, but they refused, having to hasten elsewhere. The monks came to the
abbot in astonishment, saying, "Father, how has this wheaten bread, warm
and tasting of butter and spices, been brought from far?"
The following day more food and drink were brought to
the monastery in the same manner. And again on the third day, from a distant
country. Abbot Sergius, seeing and hearing this, gave glory to God before al]
the brethren, saying, "You see, brethren, God provides for everything, and
neither does he abandon this place." From this time forth the monks grew
accustomed to being patient under trials and privations, enduring all things,
trusting in the Lord God with fervent faith, and being strengthened therein by
their holy Father Sergius.
According to an account by one of the elders of the
monastery, Blessed Sergius never wore new clothing, nor any made of fine
material, nor coloured, nor white, nor smooth and soft; he wore plain cloth or
kaftan; his clothing was old and worn, dirty, patched. Once they had in the
monastery an ugly, stained, worn bit of cloth, which all the brethren threw
aside; one brother had it, kept it for a white and discarded it, so did
another, and a third and so on to the seventh. But the saint did not despise
it, he gratefully took it, cut it out and made himself a habit, which he wore,
not with disdain but with gratitude, for a whole year, till it was fully worn
out and full of holes.
So shabby were his clothes, worse than that of any of
the monks, that several people were misled and did not recognise him. One day a
Christian from a nearby village, who had never seen the saint, came to visit
him. The abbot was digging in the garden. The visitor looked about and asked,
"Where is Sergius? Where is the wonderful and famous man?" A brother
replied, "In the garden, digging; wait a while, until he comes in."
The visitor, growing impatient, peeped through an aperture, and perceived the
saint wearing shabby attire, patched, in holes, and face covered with sweat;
and convinced himself that this was not he of whom he had heard. When the saint
came from the garden, the monks informed him, "This is he whom you wish to
see." The visitor turned from the saint and mocked at him: "I came to
see a prophet and you point out to me a needy-looking beggar. I see no glory,
no majesty and honour about him. He wears no fine and rich apparel; he has no
attendants, no trained servants; he is but a needy, indigent beggar."
The brethren, reporting to the abbot, said, "We
hardly dare tell you, Reverend Father, and we would send away your guest as a
good-for-nothing rude fellow; he has been discourteous and disrespectful about
you, reproaches us, and will not listen to us." The holy man, fixing his
eyes on the brethren and seeing their confusion, said to them: "Do not do
so, brethren, for he did not come to see you. He came to visit me." And,
since he expected no obeisance from his visitor, he went toward him, humbly
bowing low to the ground before him, and blessed and praised him for his right
judgement. Then, taking him by the hand, the saint sat him down at his right
hand, and bade him partake of food and drink.
The visitor expressed his regret at not seeing Sergius,
whom he had taken the trouble to come and visit; and that his wish had not been
fulfilled. The saint remarked, "Be not sad about it, for such is God's
Grace that no one ever leaves this place with a heavy heart." As he spoke
a neighbouring prince arrived at the monastery, with great pomp, accompanied by
retinue of boyars, servants, and attendants.
The armed attendants, who preceded the prince, took the
visitor by the shoulders and removed him out of sight of the prince and of
Sergius. The prince then advanced and, from a distance, made a low obeisance to
Sergius. The saint gave him his blessing and, after bestowing a kiss on him,
they both sat down while everyone else remained standing. The visitor thrust
his way through, and going up to one of those standing by, asked, "Who is
the monk sitting on the princes right hand? Tell me." The man turned to
him and said, "Are you then a stranger here? Have you indeed not heard of
Blessed Father Sergius? It is he who is speaking with the prince." Upon
hearing this, the visitor was overcome with remorse, and after the prince's
departure, taking several of the brethren to intercede for him, and making a
low obeisance before the abbot, he said: "Father, 1 am but a sinner and a
great offender. Forgive me and help my unbelief." The saint readily
forgave, and with his blessing and some words of comfort, he took leave of him.
From henceforth, and to the end of his days, this man
held a true, firm faith in the Holy Trinity and in St. Sergius. He left his
village a few years later, and came to the saint's monastery, where he became a
monk, and there spent several years in repentance and amendment of life before
he passed away to God.
Part 4 His Miracles and the Ceonobitic Monastery
We shall now turn to the miracles God performs through
his elect. Owing to lack of water near the monastery, the brotherhood suffered
great discomfort, which increased with their numbers and having to carry water
from a distance. Some of the monks even complained to the abbot, "When you
set out to build a monastery on this spot, why did you not observe that it was
not near water?" They repeated this query with vexation, often. The saint
told them: "I intended to worship and pray in this place alone. But God
willed that a monastery such as this, dedicated to the Holy Trinity, should
arise."
Going out of the monastery, accompanied by one of the
brethren, he made his way through a ravine below the monastery, and finding a
small pool of rainwater, he knelt down and prayed. No sooner had he made the
sign of the cross over the spot, than a bubbling spring arose, which is still
to be seen to this day, and from whence water is drawn to supply every need of
the monastery. Many cures have been granted to the faithful from the waters;
and people have come from long distances to fetch the water and carry it away
and to give it to their sick to drink. From the time it appeared, and for a
number of years, the spring was named after Sergius. The wise man, not seeking
renown, was displeased, and remarked: "Never let me hear that a well is
called by my name. 1 did not give this water; God gave it to us unworthy
men."
A certain devout Christian living close by the
monastery, who believed in the sanctity of St. Sergius, had an only son, a
child, who fell ill. The father brought the boy to the monastery, and entreated
the saint to pray for him: but while the father was yet speaking the boy died.
The man, with his last hope gone, wept and bemoaned, "It would have been
better had my son died in my own house." While he went to prepare a grave,
the dead child was laid in the saint's cell. The saint felt compassion for this
man, and falling on his knees prayed over the dead child. Suddenly the boy came
to life, and moved. His father, returning with preparations for the burial,
found his son alive, whereupon, flinging himself at the feet of God's servant,
gave him thanks. The saint said to him, "You deceive yourself, man, and do
not know what you say. While on your journey hither your son became frozen with
cold, and you thought he had died. He has now thawed in the warm cell, and you
think he bas come to life. No one can rise again from the dead before the Day
of Resurrection." The man however insisted, saying, "Your prayers
brought him to life again." The saint forbade him to say this; "If
you noise this abroad you will lose your son altogether." The man promised
to tell no one and, taking his son, now restored to health, he went back to his
own home. This miracle was made known through the saint's disciples.
Living on the banks of the Volga, a long distance away
from the Lavra, was a man who owned great possessions, but who was afflicted
incessantly, day and night, by a cruel and evil spirit. Not only did he break iron
chains, but ten or more strong men could not hold him. His relatives, hearing
tell of the saint, journeyed with him to the monastery, where dwelt the servant
of the Lord. When they came to the monastery the madman broke loose from his
bonds, and flung himself about, crying, I will not go, I will not. I will go
back from whence I came.' They informed the saint, who gave the order to sound
the bell and when the brethren were assembled they sang the Moleben for the
sick. The madman grew calmer little by little, and when he was led into the
monastery, the saint came out of church, carrying a cross, whereupon the
sufferer, with a loud cry, fled from the spot, and flung himself into a pool of
rainwater standing nearby, exclaiming, "O horrible, O terrible flame."
By the grace of God and the saint's prayers he recovered, and was restored to
his right mind. When they inquired what he meant by his exclamation, he told
them, "When the saint wanted to bless me with the cross, 1 saw a great
flame proceeding from him, and it seized hold of me. So I threw myself into the
water, fearing that I should be consumed in the flame."
One day the saint, in accordance with his usual rule,
was keeping vigil and praying for the brotherhood late at night when he heard a
voice calling, "Sergius!" He was astonished, and opening the window
of the cell he beheld a wondrous vision. A great radiance shone in the heavens;
the night sky was illumined by its brilliance, exceeding the light of day. A
second time the voice called: "Sergius! Thou prayest for thy children; God
has heard thy prayer. See and behold great numbers of monks gathered together
in the name of the Everlasting Trinity, in thy fold, and under thy
guidance." The saint looked and beheld a multitude of beautiful birds, flying,
not only on to the monastery, but all around; and he heard a voice saying,
"As many birds as thou seest by so many will thy flock of disciples
increase; and after thy time they will not grow less if they will follow in thy
footsteps." Anxious to have a witness of this vision the saint called
aloud for Simon, he being the nearest. Simon ran to him with all haste, but he
was not found worthy to behold this vision; he saw no more than a ray of its
light, but even so was greatly astonished. Filled with awe and wonder at this
glorious vision, they rejoiced together.
One day some Greeks arrived from Constantinople, sent
by the patriarch to visit the saint. Making a deep obeisance they said to him,
"The all-powerful Patriarch of Constantinople, Philotheus, sends you his
blessing" and they presented him with gifts from the patriarch, a cross
and a "paramand," and also handed him a letter from him. The saint
asked: "Are you sure you have not been sent to someone else? How can I, a
sinner, be worthy of such gifts from the most illustrious patriarch They
replied, "We have indeed been sent to you, holy Sergius." The elder
went then to see the metropolitan, Aleksei and took with him the epistle
brought from the patriarch. The metropolitan ordered the epistle to be read to
him. It ran. "By the Grace of God, the Archbishop of Constantinople, the
Ecumenical Patriarch Philotheus, by the Holy Spirit, to our son and fellow
servant Sergius. Divine grace and peace, and our blessing be with you. We have
heard tell of your godly life dedicated to God, wherefore we greatly praise and
glorify God. One thing, however, has not been established: you have not formed
a community.
Take note, Blessed One, that even the great prophet and
our father in God, David, embracing all things with his mind, could not bestow
higher praise than when he said, 'But now, however good and however perfect,
yet, above all, is abiding together in brotherly love.' Wherefore I counsel you
to establish a community. That God's blessing and his grace be always upon
you." The elder inquired of the metropolitan, "Revered teacher, what
would you have us do?" The metropolitan replied, "With all our heart
we approve, and return thanks." From henceforth life on the basis of community
was established in the monastery.
The saint, wise pastor, appointed to each brother his
duties, one to be cellarer, others to be cooks and bakers, another to care for
the sick, and for church duties, an ecclesiarch, and a subecclesiarch, and
sacristans, and so forth. He further announced that the ordinances of the holy
fathers were to be strictly observed; all things were to be possessed in
common, no monk was to hold property of his own. His community having been
established with much wisdom, the numbers of his followers soon increased.
Also, the larger the supply of offerings to the monastery, the more
hospitality‚ was extended.
No person in need ever left the monastery empty-handed;
and the saint gave orders that the poor and all strangers were to be allowed to
rest in the monastery, and no suppliant to be refused, adding, "If you
will follow my precepts and continue in them faithfully, God will reward you,
and when I leave this life our monastery will prosper and continue to stand
with the Lord's blessing for many years." And to the present day it has
remained standing.
Part 5 Monastery Life
Before long dissension arose; the devil, hating
the propitiation of goodness amongst mankind, put the idea of disputing the
authority of Sergius into several of the monks. One Saturday, white Vespers
were being sung, and the Abbot Sergius, wearing his vestments, was at the
altar, his brother, Stephen, who was standing by the choir, on the left, asked
the canonarch, "Who gave you that book?" The canonarch replied,
"The abbot gave it to me." The other said, "What has the abbot to
do with it? Did not I sit in that place before?" and adding other silly
remarks. Although the saint was standing by the altar, he heard what was said,
but kept silence. When they all came out of church he did not go to his cell;
he walked away from the monastery, unknown to all. When he arrived at the
monastery of Makrishch, he asked the abbot, Stephen, if one of his monks could
lead him to some desert place.
Together they searched and finally discovered a
beautiful spot close to a river called the Kerzhach. The brotherhood, hearing
about the saint, took to visiting him, in two's and three's, and more. Our
Father Sergius sent two of his followers to the Metropolitan Aleksei, with the
request for his blessing and permission to erect a church. Aided by divine
favour, a church was erected in a short while, and many brethren gathered
there.
Soon several monks from the Holy Trinity, unable any
longer to bear the separation from their spiritual father, went to the
metropolitan and said: "Holy Lord, we are living like sheep without a
shepherd. Command our abbot to return to his monastery, that he may save us
from perishing and dying of grief without him." The metropolitan
dispatched two archimandrites, Gerasim and Paul, to the abbot with the message:
"Your father, Aleksei the Metropolitan, sends you his blessing. He has
rejoiced exceedingly to hear that you are living in a distant wilderness. But,
return now to the monastery of the Holy Trinity; those persons who were
dissatisfied with you shall be removed from the monastery." Whereupon,
hearing this, the saint sent reply, "Tell my lord the metropolitan, all
from his lips, as from those of Christ, I receive with joy and do disobey in
nothing."
The metropolitan, glad at his prompt obedience,
instantly dispatched a priest to consecrate the church to the Annunciation of
the Immaculate and Blessed Virgin, Theotokis. Sergius selected one of his
followers, called Roman, to be the abbot of the new monastery, and sent him to
the metropolitan to be raised to the priesthood. The saint then returned to the
monastery of the Holy Trinity. When the news reached the monastery that the
saint was returning, the brethren went out to meet him. On beholding him it
appeared as if a second sun were shining; and they were so filled with joy that
some of the brethren kissed the fathers hands, others his feet, while others
seized his clothing and kissed that. There was loud rejoicing and glorifying
God for the return of their spiritual father. And what of the father? He
rejoiced with his whole heart at seeing this gathering of his flock.
Now Bishop Stephen, a god-fearing and devout man, had
for St. Sergius a deep spiritual affection. One day he was travelling from his
episcopacy of Perm to the capital, Moscow. The road along which the bishop
journeyed lay about seven miles from St. Sergius' monastery. When the godly
bishop came opposite the saint's monastery, he stopped and said, bowing low
toward the direction of the saint, "Peace be with thee, brother in
God!" The saint, at this hour, was seated at the trapeza table with his
brethren. Perceiving in spirit what Bishop Stephen was doing, he rose from the
supper table, stood for an instant in prayer, then bowing said aloud, "Be
joyful, thou shepherd of Christ's flock; the peace of God be always with thee."
At the end of supper his disciples inquired of him what
he meant. He openly told them, "At that hour Bishop Stephen, going on his
way to Moscow, did reverence to the Holy Trinity, and blessed us humble
folk." He pointed out to them, also, where this had taken place.
One time, when Theodore, son of Stephen, was with
Blessed Sergius in the monastery, he was taking part in the divine liturgy
which was being sung by the saint, and with the aforenamed Stephen, the saint's
brother. Of a sudden Isaac, who had taken the vow of silence, saw a fourth
person serving at the altar with them, of a bright, shining appearance, and in
dazzling apparel. Isaac inquired of Father Makary, who was standing by his
side, "What miraculous apparition is this?" Makary replied: "I
do not know, brother; I see a fearful and ineffable vision. But I think,
brother, that someone came with the prince." (Prince Vladimir was at this
time in the monastery.) One of the prince's attendants was asked whether a
priest had come with him; but, no, they knew of no one.
When the divine Liturgy was at an end, seizing a
favourable moment, one of the brethren approached St. Sergius and questioned
him. But he, anxious not to disclose the secret, asked, "What wonder did
you see, brother? My brother, Stephen, was saying the Liturgy; also his son,
Theodore and I, unworthy as I am. No other priest whatever was serving with
us." His disciples insisted, entreating the saint to reveal the mystery to
them, whereupon he said, "Beloved brethren, what the Lord God has revealed
can I keep secret? He whom you beheld was an angel of the Lord, and not only
this time but every time I unworthy as I am, serve with this messenger of the
Lord. That which you have seen tell no one, so long as I am on this earth."
And his disciples were astonished beyond measure.
Part 6 St.
Sergius & Russia
A
rumour spread that Khan Mamai was raising a large army as a punishment for our
sins and that with all his heathen Tatar hordes he would invade Russian soil.
Very great fear prevailed amongst the people at hearing this report. The
puissant and reigning prince, who held the sceptre of all Russia, great Dimitry
having a great faith in the saint, came to ask him if he counselled him to go
against the heathen in battle. The saint, bestowing on him his blessing, and
strengthened by prayer, said to him: "It behoveth you, Lord, to have a
care for the lives of the flock committed to you by God. Go forth against the
heathen; and upheld by the strong arm of God, conquer; and return to your
country sound in health, and glorify God with loud praise." The grand duke
replied, "If indeed God assist me, Father, I will build a monastery to the
Immaculate Theotokos." And with the saint's blessing he hurriedly went on
his way.
Assembling all his armies, he marched against the
heathen Tatars to meet them on the field of battle at Kulikova, where the rivers of Don and
Nepryadva meet. Prince Dimitry and his generals, upon seeing the multitudes of
the Horde, began to doubt of obtaining victory. The generals were perplexed,
not knowing what to do, when of a sudden, a courier from the Monastery of the
Holy Trinity arrived in all haste with a message from the saint stating:
"Be in no doubt, Prince Dimitry; go forward with faith and confront the
enemy's ferocity; and fear not, for God will be on your side." Forthwith,
the Grand Duke Dimitry and all his armies, were filled with a spirit of
temerity; and went into battle against the pagans. They fought, and many fell,
but God was with them and helped the great and invincible Dimitry, who
vanquished the ungodly Tatars.
In that same hour the saint, with his brethren, was
engaged before God in prayer for victory over the pagan Hordes. Within an hour
of the final defeat of the ungodly, the saint, who was a seer, announced to the
brotherhood what had happened, the victory, the courage of the Grand Duke
Dimitry, and the names, too, of those who had died at the hands of the pagans;
and he made intercession for them to all-merciful God.
The Grand Duke Dimitry returned to his country with
great joy in his heart, and hastened to visit the holy, venerable Sergius.
Rendering thanks for the prayers of the saint and of the brotherhood, he gave a
rich offering to the monastery and, in fulfilment of his vow, expressed his
wish to build at once the monastery of the Immaculate Theotokos.
After searching for a favourable place, venerable
Sergius fixed upon one by the banks of the river Dubenka, and with the consent
of the grand duke a church to the Dormition of our Blessed Virgin Theotokos was
established by St. Sergius. As abbot, the saint appointed one of his followers,
Sabbas by name, a man of exceeding great virtue.
A community was formed, and many brethren joined it.
Once again the Grand Duke Dimitry entreated St. Sergius to come to Kolomna, to
consecrate a site for the building of a monastery to be dedicated to the Holy
Theophany of our Lord.
It was the saint's custom to go everywhere on foot.
Obedient to the grand duke, he went to Kolomna, consecrated the site, and a
church was erected and, at the grand duke's request, he sent him one of his
disciples for the founding of the monastery, a priest-monk, Gregory, a devout
man and of great virtue. In time a stone church was built, which is standing to
this day.
Another time the illustrious Prince Vladimir begged St.
Sergius, likewise, to come to his part of the country, to the town of
Serpukhov, and consecrate a place by the river Nar, and dedicate a church to
the Conception of the Theotokos. Once again the saint obeyed the request. This
god-fearing prince also begged him to send one of his disciples, Afanasii by
name. Although the saint found it hard to grant this request, love prevailed,
and he consented. Afanasii being a man of rare virtue, exceedingly learned in
Holy Scriptures-many valuable writings by his hand bear witness to him to the
present day-the saint loved him dearly. To him the saint entrusted the founding
of the monastery, and the forming of the community. Aided by the prayers of the
saint, the monastery was built, wonderful and beautiful, and named "On the
Heights."
But why pursue further the saint's planting of
ecclesiastical fruit? It is well known how many monasteries were founded by
God's own chosen servant. And, offspring of his offspring, burning bright as
stars, they are everywhere radiating a serene and wondrous life, and a blessing
to all.
The Metropolitan Aleksei, being old, and seeing his
weakness increasing, sent for St. Sergius. While they conversed, the
metropolitan asked to have a certain cross with the "paramand" that
was adorned with gold and precious stones brought to him, to give it to the
saint; but he, bowing low in great humility, refused it, saying, "Forgive
me, Lord, 1 have worn no gold ornaments since childhood, wherefore all the more
do 1 wish in old age to continue in poverty." The bishop insisted, and
said I know, beloved, that thou art fulfilling a vow, but be obedient, and take
this which we offer thee with a blessing." Further, he said to the saint:
"Dost know why I sent for thee? I desire, while I yet live, to find a man
able to feed Christ's flock. I have doubted of them all; thee alone have I
chosen as worthy. I know with all certainty that, from the highest prince to
the lowliest of his people, thou art the one they want."
On hearing this the saint was deeply grieved, regarding
honour for himself as a thing of naught, he pleaded with the bishop:
"Forgive me, Lord, but this of which you speak is beyond my powers, and
you never will find it in me. What am 1 but a sinner, and the least of
men?"
The bishop quoted many sayings from Holy Scriptures,
but the saint, unyielding in his humility, said, "Gracious Lord, if you do
not wish to drive away my poverty from your Holiness, speak no more about my
poor self, nor permit anyone else, for no one can make me otherwise."
The bishop, understanding that the saint would not
yield, allowed him to return to his monastery. Before long the Metropolitan
Aleksei left this life, in the year 1378 (6885); and once more the princes
implored the saint to accept the rank of bishop; but, firm as adamant, he would
in no way consent.
Then a certain archimandrite, Michael, was raised to
the bishopric; but this man, with great presumption, not only invested himself
with the episcopal robes but also proceeded to plot against the saint, in the
belief that the venerable Sergius would put a check on his audacity, wishing to
occupy the episcopal throne himself. Blessed Sergius, hearing of Michael's
threats against him, remarked to his disciples that Michael, vaunting himself
of his sacred appointment, would not obtain his wish, for, overcome by pride,
he would not reach the imperial city.
The saint's prophecy was fulfilled. On his way by boat
to Constantinople, Michael fell ill and died. Thereupon everyone regarded St.
Sergius as one of the prophets.
Part 7 St. Sergius's Repose and Miracles
One day the blessed father was praying, as was
his wont, before the image of the Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ. Having sung
"Meet it is" to the Blessed Virgin, he sat down to rest a while,
saying to his disciple, Micah, "Son, be calm and be bold, for a wonderful
and fearful event is about to happen." Instantly a voice was heard,
"The Blessed Virgin is coming."
Hearing this the saint hurried from his cell into the
corridor. A dazzling radiance shone upon the saint, brighter than the sun, and
he beheld the Blessed Virgin, with the two Apostles Peter and John, in
ineffable glory. Unable to bear so resplendent a vision, the saint fell to the
ground.
The Blessed Virgin, touching the saint with her hand,
said: "Be not afraid, mine own elect, I have come to visit thee. Thy
prayers for thy disciples for whom thou prayest, and for thy monastery, have
been heard. Be not troubled; from henceforth it will flourish, not only during
thy lifetime but when thou goest to the Lord, I will be with thy monastery,
supplying its needs lavishly, providing for it, protecting it." Having
thus spoken, she vanished.
The saint, in ecstasy, stood in trembling awe and
wonder. Returning slowly to his senses, he saw his disciple, terror-struck,
lying on the ground, whereupon he raised him up; but the other flung himself
down at the feet of the elder, saying, "Tell me, Father, for Gods sake
what miraculous vision was this? For my spirit almost loosed its bonds with the
flesh from so resplendent a vision." The saint, so filled with ecstasy
that his face glowed therewith, was unable to answer other than a few words,
"Wait a white, son, for I, too, am trembling with awe and wonder at this
miraculous vision."
They continued in silent adoration until, finally, the
saint said to his disciple, "Son, call hither Isaac and Simon." When
these two came, he recounted to them all that had happened, how he bad beheld
the Blessed Virgin with the Apostles, and what a wonderful promise she had
given him. Hearing this their hearts were filled with indescribable joy, and
they all sang the "Magnificat," and glorified God.
All night long the saint remained in meditation on this
ineffable vision. After a while, a Greek bishop came from Constantinople to
Moscow, but, although he had heard a great deal about the saint, his doubt
about him prevailed, for, he reasoned, "How can such a light have appeared
in this savage land, more especially in these latter days?" He therefore
resolved to go to the monastery and see the saint. When he drew near to the
monastery, fear entered his soul, and as soon as he entered the monastery and
beheld the saint, blindness fell upon him.
The venerable Sergius took him by the hand and led him
to his cell. The bishop, with tears, confessed his doubts to the saint, and
prayed for the recovery of his sight. The gentle lover of humility touched his
blinded pupils, and, as it were, scales fell from his eyes, and instantly he
recovered his sight. The bishop proclaimed to all that the saint was indeed a
man of God and that in God's mercy he himself had been deemed worthy to behold
a celestial man and an earthly angel.
A moneylender, living near the saint's monastery, and
who, like the strong in all ages, oppressed the poor, ill-treated a certain
poor orphan, and, moreover, carried off his pig which was being fattened, and
without paying for it had it killed. The ill-used orphan went to the saint in
great distress and, weeping, begged for help. The saint, moved by compassion,
sent for the offender, convicted him of wrongdoing, and said, "My son, do
you believe that God is a judge of the righteous and of sinners; a father to
widows and orphans; that he is quick to avenge and that it is a fearful thing
to come under the wrath of God?" Having reproached him and told him he
must pay what he owed to the orphan, he added, "Above all, do not oppress
the poor." The man, overcome by fear, promised to amend and to pay the
orphan, then returned to his own house.
Little by little the effect of the saint's rebuke grew
faint, and he decided not to pay his debt to the orphan. And, thinking it over
in his mind, he went as usual into his larder, where he found the pig half
devoured and swarming with maggots, although it was midwinter. He was stricken
with fear, and without delay paid the debt; and ordered the pig to be thrown to
the dogs and birds to eat, but they would not touch it and clear the usurer of
his offence.
Now, again, one day, the saint was reciting the divine
liturgy with one of his disciples, venerable Simon, the ecclesiarch, of whom we
have already spoken, when a wonderful vision was vouchsafed to Simon. While the
saint was saying the liturgy, Simon saw a flame pass along the altar,
illuminating it and surrounding the holy table; as the saint was about to
partake of the Blessed Sacrament the glorious flame coiled itself and entered
the sacred chalice; and the saint thus received Communion. Simon, who saw this,
trembled with fear.
The saint, when he moved away from the altar,
understood that Simon had been deemed worthy of this miraculous vision, and
telling him to approach, asked, "Son, why are you fearful?" The other
replied, "Master, I beheld a miraculous vision; the grace of the Holy
Spirit operating with you." The saint forbade him to speak of it:
"Tell no one of this which you have seen, until the Lord calls me away
from this life."
The saint lived a number of years, continually
chastening himself with fasting, and working unceasingly. He performed many
unfathomable miracles, and reached an advanced age, never failing from his
place at divine service; the older his body grew, the stronger grew his
fervour, in no way weakened by age.
He became aware of his approaching end six months
before, and assembling the brotherhood he appointed his dearest disciple to
take his place, one perfect in all virtue, following his master in all things,
small of stature, but in mind a 'continual blossoming, whose name was Nikon.
The saint exhorted him to guide Christ's flock with patient care and justice.
The great ascetic soon began to lose strength and in
September was taken seriously ill. Seeing his end, he again assembled his flock
and delivered a final exhortation. He made them promise to be steadfast in
orthodoxy and to preserve amity amongst men; to keep pure in body and soul; to
love truth; to avoid all evil and carnal lusts; to be moderate in food and
drink; above all, to be clothed with humility; not to forget love of their
neighbour; to avoid controversy, and on no account to set value on honour and
praise in this life, but rather to await reward from God for the joys of heaven
and eternal blessings.
Having instructed them in many things, he concluded,
"I am, by God's will, about to leave you, and 1 commit you to Almighty God
and the Immaculate Virgin, Mother of God, that they may be to you a refuge and
rock of defence against the snares of your enemies." his soul was about to
leave his body, he partook of the sacred Body and Blood, supported in the arms
of his disciples raising his hands to heaven, with a prayer on his lips, he
surrendered his pure, holy soul to the Lord, in the year 1393 (6900), September
25th, as was supposed, at the age of seventy-eight. After his death an
ineffable sweet odour flowed from the saint's body.
The entire brotherhood gathered around him and, weeping
and sobbing, laid on its bier the body of him who in life had been so noble and
unresting, and accompanied him with psalms and funeral orisons. The saint's
face, unlike that of other dead, glowed with the life of the living, or as one
of Gods angels, witnessing to the purity of his soul, and God's reward for all
his labours. His body was laid to rest within the monastery of his own
creation.
Many were the miracles that took place at his death and
after, and still are taking place, giving strength to weaker members of the
community, deliverance from the crafts and wiles of evil spirits, and sight to
the blind. The saint had no wish during his life for renown, neither in death,
but by God's Almighty Power he was glorified. Angels were present at his
passing into the heavens, opening for him the gates of paradise and leading him
toward the longed-for blessings, into the peace of the righteous, the
ever-looked-for glory of the Blessed Trinity.
SOURCE :
http://www.st-sergius.org/life1.html
San Sergio di Radonez Eremita, egumeno
Rostov, Russia, 1314 c. -
Monastero della Trinità, Serghiev Posad, Russia, 25 settembre 1392
Sergio e i suoi genitori furono scacciati dalla loro casa dalla guerra
civile e dovettero guadagnarsi da vivere facendo i contadini a Radonez, a
nord-est di Mosca. A vent'anni Sergio inizia un'esperienza di eremitaggio,
insieme al fratello Stefano, nella vicina foresta. Presto altri uomini si
uniscono a loro e nel 1354 si trasformano in monaci, conducendo vita comune. Nasce così il monastero della
Santa Trinità (Troice-Lavra), punto di riferimento per il monachesimo della
Russia settentrionale. Sergio fonda anche altre case religiose, direttamente o
indirettamente. Nel 1375 rifiuta la sede metropolitana di Mosca, ma continua a
usare la sua influenza per mantenere la pace fra i principi rivali. È stato uno
dei primi santi russi a cui furono attribuite visioni mistiche. Attraverso il
suo discepolo Nil Sorskij si diffuse l'esicasmo, la preghiera del cuore resa
celebre dai «Racconti di un pellegrino russo»: «Signore Gesù Cristo, figlio di
Dio, abbi pietà di me». Il monastero della Trinità di Serghiev Posad è ancora
oggi meta di pellegrinaggi. Fu canonizzato in Russia
prima del 1449. (Avvenire)
Etimologia: Sergio = che salva, custodisce, seminatore, dal latino
Martirologio Romano: Nel monastero della Santissima Trinità a Mosca in
Russia, san Sergio di Radonez, che, dopo aver condotto vita eremitica in
foreste selvagge, abbracciò la vita cenobitica e, eletto egúmeno, la propagò,
mostrandosi uomo mite, consigliere di príncipi e consolatore dei fedeli.
Sergio e
i suoi genitori furono scacciati dalla loro casa dalla guerra civile e
dovettero guadagnarsi da vivere facendo i contadini a Radonezh, a nord-est di
Mosca. A vent'anni Sergio iniziò una vita da eremita, insieme a suo fratello
Stefano, nella vicina foresta; in seguito altri uomini si unirono a loro, e ciò
che ci vien detto di questi eremiti ricorda i primi seguaci di san Francesco
d'Assisi, specialmente per quanto riguarda il loro atteggiamento verso la
natura selvaggia - nonostante le differenze climatiche e di altro genere fra
l'Umbria e la Russia centrale. Uno scrittore russo ha detto che il loro capo
"odora di fresco legno d'abete".
Nel 1354 essi si trasformarono in monaci che conducevano una vera e propria
vita comune; questo cambiamento provocò dei dissensi che avrebbero potuto
spaccare per sempre la comunità se non fosse stato per la condotta
disinteressata di san Sergio. Questo monastero della Santa Trinità
(Troice-Lavra) divenne per il monachesimo della Russia settentrionale quello
che le Grotte di san Teodosio erano state per la provináa di Kiev nel sud.
Sergio fondò altre case religiose, direttamente o indirettamente, e la sua fama
si diffuse moltissimo; nel 1375 rifiutò la sede metropolitana di Mosca, ma usò
la sua influenza per mantenere la pace fra i prinápi rivali. Quando (secondo la
tradizione) Dimitrij Donskoj, principe di Mosca nel 1380, lo consultò per
chiedere se doveva continuare la sua rivolta armata contro i signori tartari,
Sergio lo incoraggiò ad andare avanti: ciò portò alla grande vittoria di
Kulikovo. San Sergio è il più amato di tutti i santi russi, non soltanto per
l'influenza che ebbe in un periodo critico della storia russa, ma anche per il
tipo d'uomo che era. Per il carattere, se non per l'origine, era un tipico "santo
contadino": semplice, umile, serio e gentile, un "buon vicino".
Insegnò ai suoi monaci che servire gli altri faceva parte della loro vocazione,
e le persone che indicò loro come modelli erano gli uomini dell'antichità che
avevano fuggito il mondo ma aiutavano il loro prossimo; veniva posta un'enfasi
particolare sulla povertà personale e comune e sullo sradicamento
dell'ostinazione.
San Sergio fu uno dei primi santi russi a cui furono attribuite visioni
mistiche (visioni della Beata Vergine connesse con la liturgia eucaristica) e,
come in san Serafino di Sarov, talvolta compariva in lui una certa
trasfigurazione fisica attraverso la luce. Il popolo lo vedeva come un uomo
scelto da Dio, sul quale riposava visibilmente la grazia dello Spirito; ancor
oggi molta gente va in pellegriaggio al suo santuario nel monastero della
Trinità di Serghiev Posad.
Fu canonizzato in Russia prima del 1449.
Autore: Donald Attwater