For the Jews like a Jew, for the Greeks like a Greek: the Parish of Novaja
Derevnja in the 1970s
Olga Bukhina
My talk about Father Alexander Men is neither theological or ecclesiological,
nor any kind of “logical.” Nevertheless, I will start with the passage from the
Scripture. It is from the First Letter to the Corinthians, and it defines a
topic of my talk. “To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those
under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the
law), so as to win those under the law. To those not having the law I became
like one not having the law…, so as to win those not having the law… I have
become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. I
do all this for the sake of the gospel...” (1 Corinthians 9, 20-23).
This passage for me is the best description of Father Alexander’s work which he
had been doing in his parish for many years. I will be talking about a very
specific time in the parish life, probably because this moment is particularly
close to my heart. I joined to the parish and was baptized by Father Alexander
Men in 1976. I would like to describe the life of the parish of Novaja Derevnja
in the late 1970s. I do believe that it is quite relevant to the situation of
today, and I hope that I will be able to show it. It is a little bit difficult
for me to talk about it when Pavel Men is sitting right here because he knows
it much better than I do. Nevertheless, I will try to show the parish life
through the eyes of someone who was a twenty one years old then. Father Mikhail
Meerson mentioned that Father Alexander had a lot of friends, and every one of
them thought that he or she is his very special, personal friend. I was so
young and scared in those days, so I was able to avoid this mistake. I was so
young, so naïve, and probably so stupid that I even could not imagine Father
Alexander being my friend. I considered him to be a teacher. That was a good
position for me at that time which gave me a chance to learn a lot.
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For many of us these were the relationships of a teacher and a student. We came
to the Church when we were very young and naïve. Our background was such that
none of us had any experience of religious life. We did not know very well why
actually we were going to the Church, and what the Church was about. I am
talking particular about these of us who were from the Jewish families. We came
from totally secular Jewish families; our parents stayed mostly away, as far as
you can imagine, from any religious issues as well as from any, generally
speaking, Jewish issues. The idea of the generation of our parents was to be as
assimilated as possible into Russian culture. In our families, we spoke
Russian, read Russian literature, and did not care much about our Jewishness.
But in the mid-1970s this attitude, for many reasons, did change. First of all,
anti-Semitism, more than before, intervened into everyday life. I do not want
to go into the details of politics, immigration to Israel, etc., but as the
matter of fact, it became very difficult not to feel yourself belonging to this
particular ethnic group. I need to specify that when using the word “Jews,” I
mean it in a pure ethnic sense. For the entire Soviet period, Jewishness has
had almost nothing to do with religion, nothing to do with Judaism. From the
early 1970s to the mid-1970s, a lot of people of Jewish descent, from
ethnically Jewish families, came to the parish of Novaja Derevnja.
Novaja Derevnja is a small village outside of Moscow. In the 1970s, this little
church, as many other churches of that time, had been pretty much filled with
the local old ladies, but suddenly it was occupied by a bunch of young boys and
girls in their early twenties. They looked very strange and different from the
“normal” church crowd. It is necessary to understand that in Russia everyone
can quite easily tell who is Jewish and who is not. Russian Jews look very
different from ethnically Russian people, and as a result, they are quite
visible and easy to recognize in the crowd. The old ladies in the church
unmistakably knew who we are.
It was a very difficult situation. We came to the church knowing nothing about
the church - how you were supposed to behave there, what you were supposed to
do. We knew only that the long skirt was an appropriate thing to wear and that
girls needed to have a headscarf. We hated the skirts and headscarves, because
normally we would be wearing pants and, of course, wouldn’t have any
headscarves whatsoever. For the boys, it was a little bit easier.
The old ladies would look at us with the severe disapproval. It was very clear
that they did not like us. So, the parish was clearly divided into two parts
which had nothing to do with each other. I would compare this with oil and
water which cannot be mixed together. Father Alexander was, obviously, in the
middle of this. He belonged to the both sides. Both parts were listening to
him. He was a priest for all of us, old and young.
I started my talk with the quotation from Apostle Paul because it was something
very special in Father Alexander’s personality - his ability to be a Jew for
the Jews and a Greek for the Greeks, everything for everyone. Ethnically
Jewish, he was raised in the Christian tradition. For him Christianity was just
a norm of his life. He knew everything about it. Of course, he was an Orthodox
priest, but also it was very important that he grew up as a Christian. He grew
up surrounded by the best of the best of the Russian Orthodox tradition. As a
child, he spent a lot of time with the priests and secret nuns of the
Underground Church of the 1930s. Father Alexander fully incorporated this
tradition into his life. At the same time, ethnically he was Jewish, which was
written in his passport (in the Soviet Union, everyone’s ethnicity was
indicated in the passport: Russian, Georgian, Tatar, Jew, etc.). This was very
important for us. It helped to bridge the gap between us and the Church.
Let me explain how I decided to become a Christian and how I got to the Father
Alexander’s parish. A few years before that, my cousin, also Jewish, who was
much older than me, decided to be baptized. She came to one church in Moscow.
Some of the parishioners were educated and young people; there were not only
old ladies there. Nevertheless, the priest did not recommend that my cousin
baptized in his church because, being the only person of Jewish descent, she
might feel uncomfortable there. He advised to go to that particular village
near Moscow where Father Alexander was. It was a very wise advice. She got
baptized in the church of Novaja Derevnja, later her daughter got baptized, and
eventually, through them, I also went to see Father Alexander.
For me, the little church in Novaja Derevnja became the most welcoming place
in, I would say, the entire Soviet Union of that time. It was the ideal place
for the girl who came from the family of intelligentsia, and was ethnically
Jewish. I definitely felt more at home there than in other churches. Going to
the church could be a very frightening experience, mostly because of its rules
and regulations. These were quite archaic and strictly traditional. Never
forget to take the candles by your right hand only, never use the left hand
because the angel is on your right side and the devil is on your left. If, by
mistake, you brought the candle to the icon by the wrong hand, two dozens old
ladies immediately started hissing at you.
At that time, the parish had two priests. Every Sunday, one priest would lead
the Liturgy and give a sermon in the end. Another priest would hear
confessions. There were so many parishioners in the church that the individual
confession could be nothing but very short. So, before that, a priest would
give a special sermon about all possible sins. If it would be Father
Alexander’s turn to do this, that sermon became the most important part of the
service for me. Most of the parishioners would listen to this sermon just
before the beginning of the Liturgy. The crowd would be exactly half and half -
the old ladies from the villages all around and the young city folks. Somehow,
Father Alexander’s words worked exactly the same way for both parts of the
crowd.
He was talking about the most important things - sins, of course, but also
death, families, spouses, children, parents, responsibilities, compassion, and
tolerance. He talked often about death. He repeated again and again that we
should be ready for death because death can come any moment. Any day can be
your last day. These words somehow were equally important both for the old and
for the young. That was his major gift - to put his words together the way that
they would be heard by everyone, both by the old lady and by the twenty years
old girl. Both of them would hear the same message - I need you, I love you,
Christ needs you, Christ loves you, you are welcome here, you are welcome to
the church, the church is your home, the church is the place where you can be
yourself. You do not need to be somebody else. To have right to be here, you do
not need to change. That was a message of Christ which Father Alexander gave to
us.
A particular example that he gave stood in my mind. If your husband it not a
Christian, what should you do? Should you leave him? Should stay with him, and
force him to be baptized and get a church wedding? I did not think then that
one day it would be a problem of mine. I remember that Father Alexander would
address this problem again and again, week after week after week. If you love
him, that is what is important. If you have peace in your home, that is what is
important, he would repeat. I believe that the half of the women in the church
was married to unbelievers. Now I am married to someone who is not a Christian,
and now I remember these words of Father Alexander. If you, parents, have peace
with the children that is what is important. If you, children, have peace with
the parents that is what is important. This might sound totally trivial, but,
believe me, it was not trivial, neither then, for these old ladies, nor now,
for me.
There was a real difference between this church and many other places.
Sometimes, because Novaja Derevnja was about two hour’s trip away from Moscow,
I would go to some church in Moscow, but often it was an quite unpleasant
experience. Two things worked against me - age and ethnicity. The Russian
Church was not a place for the young people at that time. Because of the
political pressure, many priests did not want to deal with young people. The
Soviet authorities did not approve it. On top of it, being ethnically Jewish,
you were in the most inconvenient and awkward position in the church. People’s
anti-Semitism never falls asleep in Russia. Plus, the state anti-Semitism was
on a rise. For the majority of people, you were “neither-no,” neither a
“proper” Christian, no a “proper” Jew. For other Russian Orthodox Christians,
you were somehow a wrong thing because of the extremely long anti-Semitic
tradition in the Russian Church. The typical attitude was that a Jew who had
converted to Christianity was a potential traitor, because eventually he would
be on the wrong side. There is a Russian proverb saying that a baptized Jew is
not better than a pardoned thief. This notion is very deep in Russian culture.
At the same time, even after being baptized, you, nevertheless, belong to the
secular Jewish community. Baptizing cannot change the fact that you look like a
Jew (remember, in Russia, everyone can tell a Jew from a Russian just by
looking, and in addition to that, it written in your passport - “Jewish”). For
other Jews, you were also a traitor but of the different sort. You moved to the
camp of enemies - those who organized pogroms. Historically, in the Russian
Empire, the Church, unfortunately, was a major persecutor of the Jews. So, to
be a baptized Jew was a very uncomfortable position which is best described by
the expression “between the rock and the hard place.”
Father Alexander was able to create some sort of an oasis where you can be a
Christian while being a Jew. That was a wonderful experience. The parish of
Novaja Derevnja was only a part of it. Father Alexander did it through his
books. In his first book “The Son of Man,” the book about Christ, he portrayed
Christ like a Jewish teacher. I was really able to learn a lot about Judaism
reading Father Alexander’s books about Christianity. For me, it was an amazing
experience because I did not know much about Judaism. I had tried to learn
something about Judaism before I came to the Church, but it was really
difficult in the 1970s in the Soviet Union. For me it did not go much further
than studying Hebrew, visiting the synagogue occasionally, and trying to read
some parts of the Talmud. But from Father Alexander’s books on history of
religion, especially from his book about the Old Testament, I was able to learn
a lot about the historical tradition of my ancestors. I was able to understand
a lot about who I am from these books.
The late 1970s was a very interesting period when we tried to combine together
both of these traditions, Judaism and Christianity. We tried to be as good Jews
as we can. We organized the Seders for the Passovers, celebrated some other
high holidays, and time to time went to the synagogue (the only one in Moscow
at that time). Some of us were studying Hebrew in the underground groups. I
remember that my Hebrew teacher, also a Christian, after he would collected a
fee for the class (3 rubles, a very low price even then) would say, “The class
is over but now I want to give you some extra, without payment.” And he would
start teaching us “Our Father” in Hebrew. In the same time, we would go to the
church every Sunday, read Christian books, study the Bible, and slowly get used
to the fact that we are the members of the Russian Orthodox Church.
Eventually, people made their choices. Some left Russia for Israel or the US
and sometimes, left the Church as well. For others, this experience was a
chance to become better Christians than they would be otherwise. It was much
easier that way. Otherwise, we would be just thrown into the Christian
environment without any understanding our roots and our particular place in the
Church. Father Alexander once was asked (not by me but by a friend of mine)
about the place of Jews in the Church. This young wonam said to him that she
feels very uncomfortable because every time she goes to the church, she feels
that she does not belong here because she is Jewish, and it is a Russian
church. He answered to her, “Please, always remember that it is not you who are
coming into their church. It is they who came into your church. Remember that
historically, the Church of the Apostles was a Jewish church.” Yes, the
Apostles were Jews, and the early Christian Church was a Jewish Church. It was
a very important message for me. Since then, I never feel myself alien or
inappropriate in any Christian setting. I feel that I always can say, “Welcome
to my Church, brother and sisters.”
Father Alexander was able to create one body - The Body of Christ, the Church -
out of all of us: Jews and Russians, the villagers and the city folks, the
intellectuals and academics and the young students like me. The diversity in
the parish then was truly amazing, and Father Alexander was the axis which held
the parish together. “Here there is no Greek or Jew, circumcised or
uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in
all” (Col 3:11). In the parish there were the representatives of each and every
type of people existing in Moscow and around at that time. The result was, as
Apostle Paul said, “For we were all baptized by one Spirit into one body -
whether Jews or Greeks, slave or free - and we were all given the one Spirit to
drink” (1 Cor 12, 13). For me, this “Spirit to drink” was in the books and in
the sermons of Father Alexander, and in his way of conveying the Gospel to us,
in his way of teaching us how to read and understand the Bible and the Church
practice.
Father Alexander was amazingly opened to any new experience, to somebody else’s
experience. I believe that it was very important that he was at first preparing
himself to a career of a scientist, a biologist. He had that particular type of
scientific mind which absorbs any new information, takes it in and puts in a
proper place. He was extremely curious about everything new. At that time, my
friends and I run an underground psychological seminar, and some of people from
the group also seriously got into astrology. There was an ongoing debate among
Christians in our half-psychological and half-astrological group. What is
astrology? Is this science? Is this acceptable for Christians, or not? We
decided to invite Father Alexander to be some kind of a judge. He came for the
meeting in someone’s apartment and spent the whole evening with us. We were
talking and discussing the issues, agreeing again and again. He took part in
the discussion but did not say to anyone, “You are right, or you are right,”
because he did not want to force his opinion on us. He wanted us to talk and to
think it through. He wanted to let everyone decide for her- or himself.
He also had a very clear understanding what is from the Heaven, and what is
from people. What is the God’s words in the Church practice and teaching, what
is really essential, the most important, and cannot be skipped? What is the
tradition brought by people, different political agendas and particular
historical situations? Later, in the late 1980s, I went to Poland for the first
time in my life and returned back overwhelmed by new and fresh experience of
the Catholic Church, which at that time was really open-minded, very political,
and charismatic. Everywhere in Poland I would meet wonderful young nuns and
monks. Poland seemed truly full of them; they were the most important and
devoted part of these new charismatic movements. It was a kind of a shock for
me to meet so many of them. I was confused. I returned back to Russia and asked
Father Alexander whether this was the only way to serve God. Is this necessary,
was this a God’s idea that the monastic way is the only way and that only
people who are totally devoted to Him and decided completely to give up their
life for Him could be real Christian. Father Alexander answered that,
historically, the idea of celibacy came from people. It did not come directly
from God; it is just one of the ways to serve Him. “Do not be too upset with
this,” he told me. “There are many other ways. Always look for different ways.”
I believe that what I am talking about now is quite relevant to the world we
live in today. It would be nice if every one of us would have some experience
of a place of tolerance and love, a place where people of different sorts could
be together without killing each other, physically of morally. Then, back in
the 1970s, I eventually became a friend to some of those old ladies in the
church. They taught me how to sing in the church choir and told me a lot of
stories about their lives. They also liked me, I was like an extra
granddaughter for them. Simple human relationships emerged from our being
together in the church.
The situation in the 1970s was quite depressing, politically and socially. But
for me and for many others, I believe, the little church in Novaja Derevnja was
an oasis of joy. There were no other place in the world for which I would be
ready to get up at 5 in the morning, in the Russian winter, awfully cold, pitch
dark, take the subway to the commutes’ train, forty minutes in the train
without heat, another twenty minutes in the bus, and eventually walk through
the snow to the church. It would still be totally dark, not yet a dawn.
Obviously, something very warm existed there if I was able to do all of that on
a very regular basis. What did this warmth consist of? Of course, it was a
presence of God’s love, first of all, but His love was transmitted to me
through my priest and my teacher. He was a person to whom we addressed not
“Father Alexander” (‘father” is the very dry word in Russian) but batjushka. I
do not know how translate it into English, I could not find an adequate
translation. It is something like “papa.” In the 19th century, children would
address their biological father like this. It also can be used to address the
priest whom you like and respect very much. For many of us, Father Alexander
was our batjushka, a member of our families. That is why the 9th of September,
fourteen yeas ago, was the most awful day of my life. I lost a very important
member of my family.
August, 2004
Olga Bukhina