Rector of the Iberian Church in the village of Rastunovo Archpriest Igor Shemonaev
Orthodox, in this article we will talk about the meal and about what is connected with it in a person’s life. Of course, the conversation will not be about tasty and healthy food, as it was understood in the days of Soviet catering, but about the culture of cooking and eating food from an Orthodox point of view. This culture is now practically completely lost among the people, and it can be revived only with the revival of genuine Orthodox spirituality.
Since ancient times, Christians have treated eating not as a physiological act (which takes place now in various kinds of “diners” such as “bistros”), but as a kind of spiritual action, the center of which is prayer and spiritual conversation.
This attitude to the meal comes from Christ and the sacrament of Holy Communion established by Him. At the Last Supper, the Lord, breaking bread, said to the Apostles: “Take, eat…”. We see that eating is one of the most important ways of connecting with God. Therefore, it shocks to the core when some young people talk about eating ordinary food in words that I don’t want to repeat here today, there is something bestial, horned, satanic in these words.
In the Church there is such a concept - a refectory temple. Such a temple is, for example, in the Holy Trinity Sergius Lavra. In such churches, the Divine Liturgy was performed and a meal was served for the brethren in specially designated places of the temple. In our time, the meal after the liturgy is not served in the temple, but in another place, for example, in a church house.
The true culture of the meal is now preserved in monastic life. Meals begin with prayer - this is obligatory for both monks and laity. At the table there is a senior who, having made the sign of the cross over the dishes, initiates the meal.
Metropolitan Anthony of Surozh surprisingly said that food is the love of God that has become edible.
During the meal, a reader made from among the brothers reads aloud the life of one of God's saints or some kind of patristic teaching. Reads what is blessed. The Holy Fathers say that food should be chewed with prayer, so that it would be beneficial for both the body and the soul.
Eating food is a prayer, and therefore a greeting in the refectory is accepted, addressed to those who eat: “Angels at the meal!”. And the answer to the greeting: "Invisibly ahead."
But in the hands of the elder, a bell rings - a signal for the end of the meal. Everyone gets up and after the prayer and the received blessing, in prayerful silence, they disperse to fulfill the previously received obediences.
How the food is prepared also matters a lot. One of the great spiritual fathers of Optina Hermitage, Rev. Nikon Belyaev, on the pages of his diary, described an incident told to him by his spiritual father, Rev. Barsanuphius. This incident occurred in Kazan at a meal after a liturgy with the local bishop, Archbishop Athanasius, already an elderly man, distinguished by amazing hospitality. Bishop Athanasius was very fond of gathering his spiritual children for meals, during which spiritual conversations were held and various issues of spiritual life were explained. Vladyka's cook was excellent and distinguished by special skill in cooking fish.
And then one day a young novice put on the table in front of the bishop what everyone was already waiting for - a large tray, on which a cooked pike rested in a special way. What happened shortly afterwards left everyone present in bewilderment. Instead of the traditional words of blessing, accompanied by the sign of the cross, everyone heard how Vladyka, turning to the novice who brought the pike, said: “Take it away and throw it away, and then tell them to cook another one, and call the cook.”
This puzzled everyone, since Vladyka invited them to taste this specially prepared pike.
But then the cook entered the refectory, and everyone paid attention to the fact that one of the fingers of his left hand was bandaged, and scarlet blood appeared through the bandage.
“Dear,” Bishop Athanasius turned to the cook, “what’s wrong with your finger?” “Forgive me, Vladyka, I cleaned and cut the fish…” “I understand that,” Vladyka said, “but what did you say at that?” The cook cried: “Do not be angry, lord, but I said: “Be it you…” I said badly…” Everyone understood that the cook uttered the words of the curse over the fish.
What is revealed to the saints is not revealed to us sinners. St. Athanasius is unquestionably holy, and, being in the Holy Spirit, he, with some inexplicable feeling for the sinful mind, felt the absence of grace on this dish and could no longer eat it. And the fact that you don’t eat yourself, how will you offer it to someone ... Although no one would be poisoned by eating this dish.
Everyone who has ever eaten in a monastery or at a parish church at a meal knows that the most ordinary dishes seem somehow special. I remember how, at a meal in one monastery, I was surprised to see how my guys (I came to the monastery with children) enthusiastically ate black bread (for some reason, a little sweetened with boiled condensed milk) with sauerkraut.
The Monk Nikon writes about the monastery meal at Optina Hermitage in his diary: “In the world, in rich houses, in the most expensive dishes, there is no taste that we feel in our sour cabbage soup: everything is done there without prayer, with abuse and curses, and at us in the monastery with prayer and blessing.
Prayer and blessing is what makes a proper Christian meal. Already the holy apostles at the fraternal meal addressed the Mother of God in a special way. And in the room where the meal takes place, there must be an icon. The trouble is that our meals often resemble plentiful pagan libations. All of the above does not mean at all that monastic discipline should reign at the family table. Having a family meal together in casual conversation is what strengthens family foundations. A smart joke, a well-told story won't hurt anyone.
Christ, with his coming, consecrated the wedding meal in Canna of Galilee, and moreover, when the wine ran out at this feast, at the request of His Mother, he turned water into wine. Of course, at this meal people had fun (naturally, reasonably), and sang songs, and Christ participated in the general fun, because He was sitting at a common table.
May we, Lord, have joy in our homes, but at the same time we will try to observe the measure of Christian piety - “An angel at the meal!”.
Abbess Sofia
Yulia Borisovna Silina was born on November 18, 1972. At the age of six, her mother and grandmothers decided to raise a figure skater out of a girl. One day Mother Sophia (these were rare moments of her good disposition) opened up with us, the inhabitants, and told this story in detail. But Yulia did not like to do it. She was distracted: she would ride one circle - she would sit on a bench, she would tie up the laces on her shoe, she would ride another circle - she needed to rest, she was tying up on the other shoe, a couple more circles - now on both. Or - sitting with a girlfriend chatting. Mom and grandmothers are strict, they rewarded the girl with slaps and slaps for dodging training. “They beat on anything,” mother admitted. Julia turned out to be an unpromising and absolutely unconceited athlete. “Some commission from Moscow will come, for example: to select capable, promising children, and I will ride in front of them, and I will definitely fall. And at competitions I was happy with any place. Second, third - other girls will be upset, but I'm fine, I'm glad!
After the sixth grade, the torment in the sports field was finally over. Mom and both grannies seriously attended to give their only child a higher education. “Let the figure skater fail, but there were no idiots in our family. Learn!” - was said to Julia. And she studied.
Her monastic path began with the blessing of Elder Nikolai Guryanov, who blessed her on this path.
Mother Sophia was pretty. No, she's just beautiful! Full, dark-haired, thick black eyebrows and piercing blue eyes. Even a wart on the cheek, from which black hairs grow, does not spoil a pretty face at all. She is very domineering. She likes to be listened to attentively and to follow her orders exactly. Everyone knows perfectly well if a mother is angry: you need to bow to the ground to her. When she sees her sister sprawled on the floor, she immediately thaws. And in anger she is terrible: her eyes sparkle, her face darkens, she just does not stamp her feet from indignation. He likes to show off his knowledge of the texts of the Holy Gospel, to quote a passage appropriate to a given situation. He starts talking and asks his sister to finish the quote.
Mother Sofia was always late. She came to the Divine Liturgy during the reading of the Holy Gospel. For lunch - either late by 20 minutes or did not come at all. But if she comes for dinner, those who came after her were met by the refectory door closed on the back. The late sister was offered - after an explanation with the abbess - to eat after everyone else. And she punished the cellarer: “Stay at the door to the refectory and see who and what takes out: I only blessed tea with cookies. Who was late for a meal, or did not come - look. Then tell me"
It was impossible to be late for morning prayers! In no case! It threatened with penance. You were sent down to the stasidia to the abbess. And she has already determined whether to pardon you or punish you. The mildest punishment is the deprivation of a blessing. They received the blessing of the sister after singing "Behold the bridegroom is coming at midnight ..." It happened like this. The sisters lined up in order of seniority in a long row and in turn approached Mother Sophia, bowing at her feet. She held out her hand to be kissed. Or - could put on bows. Depending on the attitude towards the sister or her own mood at the moment, you either made bows right in the temple, near the salt, or in the refectory during lunch or dinner. The number of bows was also appointed by the abbess.
Now I remember it with laughter. And then, early in the morning, completely stupefied and not getting enough sleep, we ran to the temple, prepared in advance for trouble. Several times, from exhaustion, I barely made it to my cell in the attic and simply fell onto the bed. She fell asleep in what she was. Once, even in an apron, she left the kitchen. Just discovered this morning.
Once I was a trapper. And the trapeznik has so many worries from early morning! This is not a cook who only takes polished vegetables and fish from the trapeza, fills him with dirty dishes and gives instructions endlessly. The trapeznik runs around to eat during the day. First, he cleans vegetables, washes fruit on the tables, sets the hegumen, monastic and novice tables. Then - the most interesting, creative: you need to find a mother, bless for a meal and clearly find out which of the elders will be at the meal. At first, even bless it was a whole performance! Firstly, the trapeznik must run around all the buildings in search of mother. Because she did not always sit in her cell. To have telephones, to anyone, was strictly forbidden!
I had a phone. And even once, when I was standing next to the abbess, he rang. It’s good that the sound was minimal, and the melody: “bell ringing”. Mother looked at me suspiciously. "Who's phone is ringing!? And it's so loud!" The novice Olga, who was dining nearby, said: “Mother, these are probably the workers on the street wearing pieces of iron.” It’s good that the call quickly ended. And then after all, I can’t turn it off, I can’t get the phone. The presence of a telephone, the Internet at her sister's mother Sophia stopped immediately and harshly. She, like fire, was afraid of any intercourse "with the world" of her inhabitants. And now the trapper runs, runs. He turns on his fantasy: where can mother be? And you also need to search quickly and wisely: because mother can come to the refectory herself. Lunch will start. And there is no refectory - that is, there are no attendants. Or maybe not come. And the sisters had already arrived at the appointed time, sitting, waiting. Time is running. Several times it happened that they waited for mother or one of the elders for 40 minutes, and for an hour. Once a record was set: we spent an hour and a half waiting! So what to do? Try it, start eating without blessing! Found my mother, blessed. Now you need to go to the bell tower and beat twelve times on the biggest bell. Yes, it's good to beat loudly. The sisters will not hear, they will not come on time, and you will also find yourself guilty.
The difficulty was that there was a big church holiday - the Nativity of St. John the Baptist. In addition to the sisters, the dinner was attended by priests and guests. I am an inexperienced eater. I've only lived in the monastery for a couple of months. I hear Mother and explains to the priest sitting next to her: “She hasn’t served at big dinners yet, she doesn’t know how. But nothing, let him study!” And everything prompted me: who to serve first, and who will sit and wait. I smashed the first or second, milk drinks too, but missed the ringing of the bell “for tea”. So the tea never came. At about eleven o'clock in the evening I finally return to my cell. I look forward to stretching out on the bed and falling asleep soundly. I go up to my body, rummage in my pockets in search of the button from the entrance and the key to the cell. But there are no keys! How scared I was! She went cold with fear. The guard coming out to bypass the territory let me into the building. I see a light in the office of the dean. She is sitting at the computer and typing something. She is actively involved in solving the problem: mother Inna (treasurer) and Abbess Sofia herself begin to call. Not a single phone answers. It is logical - night, people sleep. The novice Olga, an assistant in the office, remarks in a sleepy voice with displeasure: “Night is in the yard. And I can’t give spare keys: I do everything with a blessing ”(as it turned out later, in the monastery there is a good cover for such a phrase: you won’t do it, and you will pass for obedience). The dean frightens me: you will go to spend the night in a hotel for pilgrims. There is a sofa in the hallway. And then he rejects his offer: the sofa is small, you are tall, it will not fit. And then a brilliant idea dawned on me: I must go to Mother! She will listen, understand and decide. By the way, this “faith in Mother” lived for quite a long time. I come in the dark to the abbot's house, drowning in lilac blossoms. The sisters are not yet sleeping, and therefore I do not have to wait: I am let into the house, listened to and consoled. My sisters and I went around the whole house in search of my mother: the kitchen, the refectory, the living room, the study - she is nowhere to be found. I began to cross with my “Lord, have mercy” in her cell - there is no answer. Please help nun Anastasia. She has a well-trained voice, she recites a prayer loudly and leaves. There was the sound of a key being turned in the lock. The door opened, and I just ran into Mother. She stood in the doorway, in a night chiton and a handkerchief. I explained that I had lost my keys. And mother is indignant: I'm already sleeping! Take your sisters and go look for the keys! And the novice Natasha, with whom I was in the refectory all day, found my keys ... in the pocket of my apron, which I, leaving the kitchen, took off and hung on a hook.
After a busy day and night incident, in the morning I barely opened my eyes. A neighbor on the floor knocks on the door. Overslept! I - it doesn't matter anymore! - slowly get dressed, wash my face and go down from the attic to the kliros. I go up to the treasurer, mother Inna: I report, they say, overslept. Ta: go to Sofia's mother and showed down from the balcony. Matushka sits touchingly sleepy and somehow swollen on her stasidia. I start: “Mother, forgive me, I ...” She interrupts me: “With explanations - after” And she holds out her hand, blesses. She still doesn't know that I overslept. I explain: I overslept and mother Inna sent to her.
- You did the right thing.
- What should I do?
- Pray below.
I'm leaving. And suddenly my mother beckons me to come up. He puts me near his stasidia and puts a long lit candle in my left hand (so that the right one is free for the sign of the cross). The deacon and the priest were surprised when they left the altar! My heart was solemn, blissful. Finally, I prayed and saw everything that was happening, I understood what the exclamations refer to. After all, praying above, we are completely deprived of the opportunity to observe what is happening below. The service flew by for me unnoticed. I didn't even get tired of standing. After the Our Father, Mother told me to put a candle on a candlestick and go to breakfast. I asked: “Forgive me for disturbing you at night.” “And this,” she says, “is a special conversation. I'll call you, and we'll talk again. ”And she herself is not angry at all and her eyes are kind. The sisters are surprised: why didn’t your mother scold you? And the priest was interested in tea: why, they say, were you so solemn with a candle? Is it your birthday or Angel's day today?
Deprivation of the refectory
“Ancient monastic charters provided for punishments: for lying, grumbling, laziness, anger, neglect of monastic property, etc. As a punishment for the guilty, excommunication from communion, deprivation of communion in food and prayer with other monks, temporary dry eating was envisaged.”
Fatigue accumulates for weeks and months, constant lack of sleep and physical ailment in the form of a cold are added to them, for example - you already give up on everything and just follow your lead. You don’t go to the service and you allow yourself, without warning anyone, to just sleep, sleep, sleep ... Which happened to me after a very tense series of events in the monastery: a commemoration, a bishop’s service. All these days I had to get up very early, and go to bed long after midnight. I woke up to the sound of bells at nine o'clock in the morning. The sisters, who, out of obedience, ringers, pounded the bells furiously and for a long time. And since the bell tower is located directly above the cells of the attic ... In a word, the dead would be awakened. I overslept the monastic rule, which began at 7:30, did not hear any ringing for this rule, nor the sisters who ran along the corridor, going to the temple, in general - nothing. Slept, as they say, without hind legs. So tired. Liturgy, too, partially lay. At about 11 in the morning I barely got up and, finally, wandered to the Kazan temple. Cars - entirely foreign cars - are worth a lot outside the gates. Men in expensive suits rush to the temple with armfuls of red roses. I opened the door of the temple - it is full of people. On the salt - the same Greek bishop in a golden vestment, with a golden miter on his head. A short man, plump, with a gray beard. The sermon reads: in Russian and Greek. There is a lectern for the funeral service: the servant of God Margarita (Rimma), the mother of a major benefactor of our monastery, has died. The novice Natasha comes towards me. Reports: Anya overslept, she was put on bows in the refectory. I think: yes, we need to get out of here in good health, until they notice. You can also run into penance under a hot hand. I'm going to keep getting sick. I returned to my cell, I lie down. I am reading a book. At times, I fall asleep. Nobody comes to me. Nobody is on the phone. Silence. Toward evening, nun Olga came to see me. Visit, news to tell how the day went.
Mother Olga is a nun, she has been in the monastery for ten years. Small, thin, very affectionate and humble. Trembling, she became so attached to me. She often came up to me, wept, burying her face in her shoulder, asking for forgiveness that she loved me (monks are not allowed to have attachments). So it’s good, I thought, love and pray for me, mother Olga, a humble and kind nun, an obedient sheep of the flock of Christ. Your prayer will help me. Olga came to St. Petersburg from Kazakhstan. Her mother died when Olya was four years old. Olga grew up. She studied at a vocational school as a cook of the 3rd category. For ten years she worked in a restaurant at the station for distribution. She showed me the photo: she is standing in a colored national uniform with a shift partner, placing food on a plate for customers. She came to St. Petersburg with her sister. Settled in the village of Taytsy. I went to pray at the Church of the Most Holy Theotokos in Taitsy. Worked in it for the glory of God. She was spiritually nourished by Father Michael. Mother Olga told me how she came to the monastery. She approached the abbess (mother Sophia was not yet in the rank of abbess), noting to herself: how young (mother Olga is 3 years older than her)! Mother Sophia told Olga that in order to enter the monastery, she had to bring a letter of recommendation from the priest. Olga brought a letter on her next visit and heard a favorable one: "Come on Saturday, at dawn."
Mother Olga began to show me signs of her favor even in those days when I came to help in the temple. She told me about her life, always treated me to something, was caring and friendly. In the evening, after the service, we often walked around the monastery with her. For birthdays and name days, she gave me a gift: socks or a chocolate bar.
Mother Olga did not come to visit me empty-handed. She brought supper (some fish and vegetables), I accepted her offering. It was for this that the next day we were both punished.
In obedience, mother Olga and I had to go around the monastery in the evening with a procession. We go out with her into the courtyard of the monastery, and at the porch mother Inna was walking her cats. She saw me, immediately called me, asked: why wasn’t I in the shop today? Here you, what - a sanatorium? What, you just woke up? Slept while others were working?! Come to obedience tomorrow - only through Mother Sophia. I went to the abbot's building. Matushka is talking to some men about the relics. Smoky in the room to impossibility! She came out to me and closed the door behind her. I, he says, is busy - until the morning. Contact the lady.
All morning Anna, apparently taught by her mother Inna, came up to me and reminded me: for obedience in the shop - only with my mother's blessing. And I got so tired of her that I went to the hegumen's house right during the liturgy. Mother Sophia came out of her cell sleepy, swollen, dissatisfied. Blessed, I explain the purpose of my late visit. “But I can’t decide now,” she replies. “I need to know what happened.” In a nutshell, I tell you that I was tired, I was in bed, I was not in obedience. "Are you allowed to lie down? Are you blessed? No? Here’s your answer.” I say that the day before yesterday, after cleaning up, I left the refectory at 2:30. And - past me, went to the temple. Rising to the kliros. I feel that my affairs are bad. The time to go to the store draws near. If I don't come today...
I go up to Mother after our dinner: forgive me, a sinner, but what should I do anyway ?! And everything would have ended peacefully and bloodlessly for me, because Mother is no longer angry at all and is going to have dinner (during the meal she herself read to us). He jokes: “Do you have a temperature? Or inflammation of cunning? Go obedient! You will write an explanatory note ... "Suddenly Mother asks:" Did you eat yesterday? I honestly answer: yes, mother Olga brought. Mother suddenly gets angry! The dean, spinning next to her, orders: mother Olga - come here, quickly! I tried to escape:
- Mother, the clock here in the refectory shows the time incorrectly: it is 11:50 on them, but in reality it is an hour more. I'll be late for the shop. I need to let the shopkeepers go to lunch. And then there will be problems again ...
- Problems will be in heaven if you, now suddenly reposed, find yourself there!
I had to put up with it and wait until the dean goes to the cell for mother Olga and brings her to the righteous mother's court.
Mother began to ask Olga's mother questions. And our answers coincided: she brought dinner. Arbitrarily. Mother asks: “What were you, a trapper yesterday? Or - John's cell attendant, her old woman? This is secret eating. Theft! Why are you roaming around the cells? This word was so difficult to apply to mother Olga that it became funny to me, and I turned to the window. The sky was overcast with clouds, it was going to rain. Mother got angry:
- What's so funny?
- Yes, because she did not roam. I went out and took it myself.
- Ah well?! Forty bows to you, mother Olga, at the meal. And for you ... I will also come up with a penance. You will have lunch in the working refectory! And do not go to Chin about Panagia. And don't go to this building either. Look what you think!..
Mother Olga walked around the table at which the abbess was sitting, approached her from the other side and collapsed in a prostration: forgive me, Mother. Still smiling in confusion, I hurried away. In the evening I saw Mother Olga in the church: she was a church worker. There was no face on her, drooping, hugging me, sobbing. So the abbess can punish anyone, any way and anytime. My penance lasted two weeks. And that ended relatively quickly: I myself went to Mother. Other sisters were deprived of a refectory or communion for half a year. All this time Mother avoided me. And if she had to deal with me, she was strict. And mother Olga at every meal - at lunch and dinner - made bows in the center of the refectory, while the rest were eating. She bowed to the ground even if she was a cook, I brought food to the sisters and saw how she quickly, quickly bows. Sometimes it seemed to me that Mother was only looking for an excuse to find fault with, how to come up with a penance for someone so that someone would be punished all the time. Just like that, as a warning to other sisters. To not relax.
Mobile phone, Internet and Diary
Mobile phone is strictly prohibited! I could not do without a phone and therefore carefully concealed its presence. The only living soul knew about my secret: the novice Natasha. Once I almost lost it. Anya and I were on obedience in the shop. Changed shopkeepers for lunch. We were late for our sister's dinner. And I wanted to eat. And Anna and I ate one gingerbread each. There was nowhere to throw the wrapper, and I put it in my pocket. When we nevertheless came to our refectory, suddenly mother calls me to her. And he reaches for his pocket, from where, treacherously gleaming in the sun, the tip of the wrapper protrudes. “What, are we engaged in secret eating?” I got cold. If she looked into another pocket, that would be a scandal: there was a phone!
I have always kept a diary. It was interesting for me to write down everything that happened during the day. Analyzed, reasoned, drew conclusions. Of course, life in the monastery was also covered on the pages of the diary. And in some detail: events are constantly taking place in the monastery, and holidays are every day. For 2.5 years I wrote 20 common notebooks. They contain impressions, a description of life in the monastery, spiritual defeats and victories, reflections, repentance… I would like to hope that spiritual growth…
On July 16, 2009, the 79-year-old nun Nadezhda, the oldest resident of the monastery, died in the almshouse of the monastery. For two nights we read the Psalter for the departed, and on July 19, a monastic funeral and funeral took place. A month ago I was instructed by Abbess Sophia to keep a chronicle of the monastery. It was necessary to streamline the records of previous chroniclers and draw up a chronological sequence of facts and dates. A few days ago, the Sovereign Chapel was consecrated in the Kazan Cathedral. I had to write a text that would initiate my work.
From the very first week of my life in the monastery, I had a laptop in my cell. I am a journalist by education, so I quite calmly took him with me to the monastery. Like a seamstress would take thread, for example. I didn't hide it, I didn't hide it. Having a laptop was a matter of course for me. I looked at the presence of technology in the cell calmly and practically: if it can serve for the good, then why shy away from it? It all depends on the purpose for which you use it! The laptop was miniature in size and fit in a small suitcase. I carried it with me, typed the text. And I also took it with me to the funeral service in the Kazan Church. After all, I still had to photograph the “event”. And so that my suitcase would not interfere with anyone, I placed it against the wall near the candlestick, under the icon of the Tikhvin Mother of God.
The funeral service of the monastic rank is a very long time. Two hours of singing and reading. Then they spoke speeches over the coffin. Relatives, sisters, parishioners came up and said goodbye to the body of the deceased. Well, I safely forgot about my laptop. We went to the cemetery - we were gone for more than half an hour. Here they are throwing everything in turn, handfuls of earth into the grave, and suddenly a lightning flashed in my head: “Where is my laptop ?!” We return to the temple. I look: under the icon - empty. I'm in a panic - who could take it? It turned out that the guard picked it up. And he asked Inna's mother: is it hers? Having received a negative answer, he gave it to the candle box. I took my loss from the candlestick. She breathed a sigh of relief. And I had to run to my cell, but to my misfortune I met Inna's mother! "Is yours? Well, you found where to put it! Under the icon! And then she went to Sophia's mother. She came to the memorial meal in a terrible rage. From the common table he calls me: “Laptop? Is yours? Did I bless? Give it to your mom immediately!"
Of course, I didn’t give anything to my mother (she was also at the funeral service). Mother Sophia came to dinner as dark as a cloud. She held a conversation, during which she said sternly, looking in my direction, that monastics are not blessed “to sit on the Internet, otherwise they would not get lost in the World Wide Web and stay there forever.”
The fact is that a month ago, Mother solemnly announced to me that I was moving from the attic cell to the cell of nun Irina, who left the monastery in the winter. Irina's mother's cell was large and bright: beautiful gray wallpaper with small pink flowers on the walls, a high ceiling and a window, a luxurious laminate floor - and this is after a window under the ceiling, yellow painted walls with smudges and a creaky floor covered with linoleum. I felt no less than a princess! Only it was dirty in the cell after Irina's mother. It smelled like medicine. In the closet, on the bed, on the table, things and papers that she had not taken with her were lying in disarray. Well, I delayed the final move. I washed the window, the floor, moved things. In the meantime, she spent the night in her former cell in the attic - it’s more familiar there. And so, after this temptation with a laptop, mother Sophia decided to check where and how I live.
naked nun
Mother Anastasia is a very young nun, she is only 35 years old. But she already has a long monastic experience - 12 years. She is small, thin and rather pretty. She has a very beautiful voice and she sings in the choir on the kliros. In addition to singing on the kliros, she has the obedience of a ruhol woman (her duties include keeping the clothes and household goods belonging to the monastery clean and intact, as well as providing the sisters in need with it in a timely manner). Mother Anastasia is very talkative: she loves to talk about her childhood, about how she came to the monastery, about the former monastery, where she lived for seven years. She is kind and funny. But also - touchy, nervous. Because of this, ridiculous temptations often happen to her.
May afternoon. Mother Anastasia and I are in the kitchen. She is the cook, I am the diner. She is nervous: dinner time is approaching, and her fish is not yet fried. Feels bad. So, when it became completely unbearable for her, mother Anastasia decided: I’ll call my mother in the building, ask them to let me go for half an hour, lie down. To her misfortune, the dean (she is the regent) entered the refectory. She has a sing. She heard that Anastasia wanted to leave, and when she found out why she wanted to leave, she raised a cry. And she called her a lazybones, and that she would break her singing now. Anastasia had to be silent, turn around and quietly leave - a blessing was received from the abbess. But she got nervous, began to object. Both of them shouted and parted so much that it seemed like another minute - they would have clung to each other and fought. I was busy making salad. I found myself in the midst of a scandal. As if in the mouth of a volcano, such passions boiled around. But I did not interfere, I was silent, and everything worked out well for me.
Both - the nun and the nun - rushed to the mother: “Here I am, I will tell all about you to the abbess!” Mother was busy with the guests. I didn’t particularly understand, but simply “divided” both to novices. That is, she ordered to hand over the apostles, hoods and cassocks and tie a scarf on her head. Anastasia, out of grief, immediately fell ill and hid in her cell. She handed over the vestments only on the third day, and then after the abbess came to her cell (Anastasia lives in the hegumen's house). Neither tears nor requests helped. The abbess was adamant: the vestments must be handed over.
I never saw Anastasia again that day. She sobbed in her cell and did not appear in public. The Reverend Lady herself came to fry the fish. Then she took off her apostle and, in a black kerchief pulled over her forehead, mother Elena went to ring the bell: dinner was ready. While the sisters ran to complain, the novices, attracted by the noise, entered the refectory one after another. Interested: what happened? I was not at all interested in retelling, and I answered simply: I don’t know. The curious did not believe, pestered with questions. But I held firm: I don't know anything. See, I'm cooking dinner.
When I saw mother Anastasia and mother Elena “undressed” singing in the kliros, I almost cried, they looked so pitiful. Anastasia was still short-sighted, so in a scarf that covered her entire face, she looked absolutely terrible.
Several days have passed. The punished sisters began to get used to their current position. In the evening, Mother Anastasia and I went to the religious procession around the monastery. And she shared with me that they constantly quarrel with the regent. She picks on her all the time. Mother Anastasia is worried about this. And then one day she had a dream: as if she had died. Lies in a coffin in one of the aisles of the temple. Funeral. And the regent sings over her. And he seems to be saying: “And why are you silent, mother Anastasia? Do you not know the words or are you lazy?
Their penance lasted two and a half months. The dean is no stranger: quick-tempered, scandalous, she constantly cursed with someone, she was already “undressed”. And mother Anastasia suffered. And she asked us: “Pray that Mother will forgive us as soon as possible. I can't bear it anymore." On the morning of June 12, on the feast day of the Holy Primate Apostles Peter and Paul, both sisters appeared at midnight on the kliros in full vestments.
Angels at the meal
To be in time for work by 8 o'clock in the morning, Natasha had to get up at five in the morning. First, shake for a long time on the bus, then squeeze into the train and go to Moscow. Several days a week she scrubbed the floors in the office, and the rest of the time she worked in the refectory tent of the convent.
Natasha came to Moscow from Kazakhstan. Her mother and sister were cowgirls on the collective farm. Natasha's father died when the girl was ten years old. She was born in Kazakhstan, graduated from school, and received the specialty of a cutter at a vocational school. She was a conscientious girl. She faithfully performed the work assigned to her. But she was too impressive. And one more thing: Natasha was different from all the sisters in that she constantly asked for forgiveness. She clearly learned: right or wrong, anyone can be merciful with a heartfelt uttered "I'm sorry."
Once Natasha came to work not getting enough sleep. In order to somehow cheer up, I decided to drink coffee. But the coffee machine was in the sister's refectory. And the nuns had breakfast in the refectory. Natasha was shy. Before the sisters, she trembled and treated their rank with reverence. "How do I get into the dining room? The nuns are there! They are angels. No, I'll wait." The angels ate their food slowly. For breakfast in the monastery, a wide variety of dishes are generally put on the table. Natasha, in order not to waste time waiting for coffee, in vain, offered her help to the cook. She agreed: “Please rub the carrot”
So Natasha rubs carrots on a grater. At this time, nun Joseph enters the refectory.
She labored for two years in the Joseph-Volotsk Monastery. She milked cows and helped in the kitchen. The situation has developed in the monastery (and quite justly) that both women and men should not live in the same monastery, even if they are all monks. Mother with some sisters moved to another monastery. And the rest of the women began to look for a monastery on their own. Joseph's mother - then just Natasha Yakovleva - came to the John the Baptist Monastery. Here, two years later, she was tonsured with the name of the great ascetic St. Joseph of Volotsk. Thin, with tension on her face, always expecting some kind of trouble from everyone.
Once she opened up to me and told me how she helped in one of the monasteries, not being in the sisterhood. I washed dishes from morning to afternoon. After dinner I sat on watch. It was necessary to give out keys, open the door to visitors. Sit and read a notebook with troparia. One day she allowed herself to read a book of soulful reading. Mother abbess passed by and looked at what Natasha was reading. "And you're doing well," she remarked.
“Ah, you are washing my bones,” she says, seeing the sisters whispering and looking at her. Although the speech of the sisters is on a completely different topic. Suspicious, taking everything seriously and remembering grievances for a long time. Natasha was in obedience to nun Joseph. Natasha trembled with fear. Small, thin, she was shy before the assertiveness of some sisters.
“Excuse me, please,” she began. “I only came to have a cup of coffee…”
- What's with the carrots? Joseph's mother asked menacingly. And turns to leave.
Natasha is already crying. Goes with apologies for his boss.
And she turns to the cook: “Get this hysterical woman away from me!”
A year later, the “hysterical woman” was accepted into the ranks of the nuns of the monastery.
The book of short stories "Angels at the Meal" is sold in St. Petersburg at the House of Books on Nevsky Prospekt, 28 (also in the online store of the House of Books) You can also buy from the author, wrote by email [email protected] or write to VKontakte or Facebook user Zhanna Chul
Rules of piety- certain rules of conduct corresponding to those adopted in the Church.
Archimandrite Platon (Igumnov): Piety is, as it were, a vertical, directed from earth to heaven (man-God), church etiquette is a horizontal (man-man). At the same time, one cannot ascend to heaven without loving a person, and one cannot love a person without loving God: If we love each other, then God abides in us (), and whoever does not love his brother, whom he sees, how can he love God, Whom he does not sees? (). Thus, all the rules of church etiquette are determined by spiritual foundations, which should regulate relations between believers who aspire to God.
1.Temple rules.
Enter the holy temple with spiritual joy. When you enter the temple and see the holy icons, think about the fact that Himself and everyone are looking at you; be especially reverent at this time.
The holiness of the temple requires a particularly reverent attitude. You should come to the temple in decent, clean clothes, not in sports or defiantly bright. Women are supposed to wear a scarf or headdress on their heads. Keeping Christian modesty, one's own and one's neighbors, one should not come to the temple in immodest clothes or trousers. If possible, you should come to the temple without bags and packages.
Always come to the temple in advance in order to have time to put candles before the start of the service, order a commemoration, and venerate.
Before entering the temple, one should make a bow with a prayer and the sign of the cross. Upon entering the temple, one must also make three prostrations towards the altar with the publican's prayer.
It is necessary to put candles, apply to icons and shrines before the start, and during the service one should not break the common prayer by walking around the temple and passing candles.
You can not kiss the shrines of the temple and participate in the Sacrament of the Saint with painted lips.
Passing in front of the Royal Doors, it is supposed to cross and bow to the side. It is impossible to pass between and the central one, when the clergy are praying in front of it in the middle of the temple. In the temple it is not supposed to talk, let alone laugh and joke. It is customary to greet each other with a bow.
In an Orthodox church, it is customary to stand during worship. Sit down and rest is allowed in cases of ill health. However, the bodily saint said well about the infirmity of the body: “It is better to sit and think about God than standing - about the legs.” In case of bodily weakness, you can sit on a chair or bench.
According to tradition, men are supposed to stand on the right side of the temple, and women on the left.
In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.
I want to say a few words to those of you who have recently arrived in our parish and who often leave without hearing a sermon.
Our Parish was dear to people because it was possible to pray in deep silence, surrounded by the silence of all those present and the immobility of other worshipers.
Recently, this situation has sadly changed. Those who come to church, who are not accustomed to strict, harmonious Orthodox piety, often talk among themselves, often walk around the church, forgetting what is happening in it now. This is a completely unacceptable thing. You must understand that when you come to the temple, you become face to face with Christ and with God, that, standing before Him, you must be filled not only with internal, but also with external pious silence, and that yours is not only a privilege, but yours. duty is to make it possible that the prayer of other people should not be interrupted by anything.
Therefore, I appeal to all of you not only with a request, not only with an exhortation, but with a decisive appeal: when you come to the temple, stop at the door of the temple, cross yourself, realize where you have entered.
Remember the publican who did not dare to enter the temple of God because he felt too sinful to enter the realm where the Lord Himself reigns.
The Savior told us that where two or three gather in His name, there He will be present. And so, when you enter the temple, know, know for sure, by faith and conviction, even if this has not reached your experience and heart, know that you are in the presence of Christ Himself, crucified for your own salvation and risen for so that you may enter eternal life triumphant and rejoicing.
The temple is not a place to meet friends and not a place where you have the right to look around to see what icons are on the walls.
This is the place where you must tremblingly, with deep spiritual horror, stand before the Living God. And if you cannot pray all the time, which many are not able to do, then you should at least stand in deep silence of the soul and lips and not interfere with anyone else to pray.
And I am turning to you with a request, with exhortation, from the bottom of my heart: enter the temple reverently, choose a place where you will stand and do not leave it anywhere, except to, at the beginning, when you enter, put a candle, and if you will take communion in order to approach the Holy Mysteries. Otherwise, stay in silence, because God meets in the deep silence of the soul, and only in this deep silence those in the temple can become one with each other in Christ. This is not a question of church discipline, it is a question of your personal salvation, that you have met God - or that you have passed Him by and despised His presence.
“I heard that the Orthodox do not sit down at the table without reading a prayer and without crossing what is on the table. Strange, because magical rituals are not honored by Christians. Why is there an exception to the rule here?
Children love to chat while eating, and lunch sometimes drags on for hours, while talking, the child manages to quietly swallow one spoonful of soup, the second, gapes, and you once in his open mouth ... We managed. Such children do not have the skills to eat properly. You didn’t instill these skills in them, because you completely managed without them yourself. But remember Seraphim Vyritsky: « How often do we get sick because we do not pray at the meal". We want children not to get sick, but we are not in a hurry to teach them Christian rules at the table: pray, read the Our Father, sit piously at the table, not let them jump up, talk loudly, be capricious. And if reading the lives of the saints is an unattainable feat for us, then just talking quietly and a little. The main thing is the meal… The Lord blesses. The Lord is watching.
Not far from Constantinople, the holy hermit lived in deep silence. Everyone revered him, and many visited in order to benefit from this spiritual benefit. And then one day, in the clothes of a simple warrior, the Roman emperor came to the elder. The elder was delighted with the guest, brought a wooden cup of water, put dry bread in it and, after praying, invited the guest to a meal. After the meal, the guest revealed to the elder his high position. And said: " So I was born a king and now I reign, but I have never eaten bread, I have not drunk water with such pleasure, with which I now eat and drink with you. How sweet your food is to me! And the old man answered him: We, monks, take our food with prayer and blessing, because our brasno, although bad, is sweet. And in your houses they drink and eat without prayer, with noise and idle talk, and therefore rich and luxurious meals are tasteless in your house - they lack the delightful blessing of the Lord«.
Or as often happens. In the midst of fasting - a feast. And with vodka, and with quick pickles. “What am I, guilty that I have a birthday in fasting?” Probably guilty. Since the Lord has defined this day for you as special. But that's another matter. People eat and laugh, drink and amuse themselves with table jokes, start dancing and eat again ... they leave with stuffed bellies, overeating delicacies and tasting heartily. And no joy. Neither the owners, left alone with empty bottles and dirty plates, nor the guests. As in that student song: “Although it looks like fun, it’s still not fun ...” But you can get around the sharp corners of a holiday that arrived at the wrong time. Meet the very day quietly and piously, go to the temple in the morning, sit at the table at home in the evening. And the “big festivities” should be moved to another, fast day. Then there will be more benefit from such gatherings, and the Lord will bless the meal, according to the will of God, and not contrary to it, it will turn out to be cheerful and desirable, and the cake will succeed, it will not burn, and the meat will be fried. And most importantly, everything will benefit, this is certainly, this is absolutely necessary.
The Lord, establishing His laws in our lives, stands up first of all for us to be healthy, spiritually prosperous and thankful. From his laws there is no harm, but the benefits are colossal. So why is it that even such a small thing as prayer before meals is given to us so hard and so reluctantly accepted by us. "The enemy does not like joy." The enemy of the human race is very grieving from our piety, it is all the same to him that vomit. So he whispers various rubbish into our hung ears - do not believe, do not waste time on prayer. Food is food, ate and went, and a vulgar anecdote will throw up for food, and the child will get out of the way of nastropolit - I won’t, I don’t want, I don’t like it, eat it yourself. The barrier from the enemy is prayer. He runs away from her shamed, she is a great power, but so unclaimed by us. Why? The question is rhetorical. When people eat food, we tell them: Bon appetit. The Orthodox have a different expression: Angel at a meal. There is more beauty and spiritual meaning in this expression. We call on the Guardian Angel to stand at the meal as our protector from demonic attacks and the conductor of God's blessing. These words - Angel at a meal almost like a prayer. An angel at a meal. And where the Angel is, there is no place for the demon. And since the Angel of the Lord is called to our table, without a doubt, food will be good. And if there is food for good, our children will be strengthened by it and grow in growth, and go to prudence. And healthy and prudent children - isn't it happiness for us? What more could you want from life?
— Dinner Angel! we say to those who eat.
— Save you, Lord! We answer with gratitude.
And this is also prayer. Because we do not demand, but we ask.
Author : Natalya Sukhinina- journalist, writer, editor-in-chief of the publishing house "Holy Mountain", author of collections of stories "Where did the bullfinches go?", "Where do the happy live?", "What color is pain?" and numerous essays
Monastery cutlets
Half a loaf of white bread
three or four bulbs
a glass of peeled
walnuts
(replace meat and fish)
two potatoes,
a clove of garlic.
Pass all ingredients through a meat grinder. Add salt, ground pepper. There is no need to add oil to the minced meat, since the cutlets absorb it very well when frying. Do not spare breadcrumbs, they form a crust when frying, and the cutlets will not fall apart. Make cutlets small and plump, so that later it is convenient to turn them over. You can experiment: add a can of canned beans or mushrooms to the minced meat, or double the proportion of potatoes.
Cranberry mousse
One glass of cranberries
knead thoroughly,
lay out the berry
mass per gauze
and squeeze out the juice.
Put the juice in a cold place, and pour the pomace from the berries with three glasses of water and boil for five minutes. Strain the resulting broth and cook semolina porridge on it (three tablespoons of semolina and one glass of sugar). Pour berry juice into the chilled porridge and beat with a mixer until fluffy and homogeneous. The mass should double in volume. Divide the mousse into bowls or cups and refrigerate for one to two hours. Garnish with berries when serving.
