Trip to Sergiev Posad and Semkhoz
Reading seraphimsigrist's journal describing a journey to Sergiev Posad brought back happy memories of my own journey there about 10 years ago, so I thought I'd post it here, though LJ won't backdate that far.
20-Aug-1995, Sunday
I went to Hours and Divine Liturgy in the
Church of the Seven Ecumenical Councils at 6:30, then Natalia
Kulkova was waiting for me outside the monastery main entrance at
9:30, to take me to Sergiev Posad. It was raining quite hard when
I went out to see her, so I took my umbrella, and she wanted to
know if I would like to postpone the trip because of the rain,
but I thought we should continue, as it looked as though it would
clear up.
We took the Metro to Komsomolskaya Station, and then
bought tickets to Sergiev Posad at the Yaroslavl Station. It was
about R15.00 return for both of us - a lot cheaper than a similar
distance would be in the USA. The train was quite crowded -
enormous cavernous carriages with hard wooden seats and two rows
of people sitting three abreast. Book and newspaper sellers came
in at intervals, and announced their wares from the end of the
carriages. They were selling Komsomolskaya Pravda and other
papers. They looked a bit like street preachers. A little later a
woman came in and made a plug for alms, and several people gave
her money. The train passed through the Moscow suburbs - most of
the tracks were overgrown with weeds, but the winter will
probably kill them off, and they add some greenery. Once beyond
the suburbs the line was mainly through birch forests, dotted
with dachas. There seemed to be few permanent settlements out
this way.
From the Sergiev Posad station we walked with other
pilgrims and tourists to the Lavra, and went in. There were signs
saying that one must pay a fee to take photographs inside. We
wandered around, but most of the churches were closed. The Holy
Trinity Church was open, which had the relics of St Sergius of
Radonezh, and some ikons, I believe, by St Andrei Rublyev, -
though some were said to be copies, as the originals are in the
Tretyakov gallery in Moscow. We looked at some of the bookshops,
but I did not buy anything, as they were too crowded. Most of the
people seemed to be tourists rather than pilgrims. It was
different from Danilov, where most of the visitors to the
monastery seemed to be going there to pray.
We wandered out to
the square in front of the monastery, where there were souvenir
stalls selling matryoshka dolls. I believe they were first made
here in Sergiev Posad. Then we went to catch a bus, and it was
greatly overcrowded, but we managed to squeeze in for a 20 minute
ride through the town and then fields to Semkhoz, where one of
the lecturers at the Institute, Boris Philippov, was staying at a
dacha. He is something of an expert on Orthodox-Roman Catholic
relations, and husband of Tatiana whom I met yesterday. We had
some difficulty in finding the place after we left the bus, and
we must have walked 3-4 kilometres up and down the roads between
the dachas. It was very pretty. The dachas were similar to beach
cottages on the Natal coast and elsewhere. Natalia said a lot of
pensioners lived here permanently. Eventually we found the place,
and met Boris Alexeivich Filippov, his daughter Maria
Krasevitskaya, and her children Paul and Maria. Paul was 18
months old, and was playing with a Fisher-Price activity centre
similar to the one Bridget had had at the same age. We had lunch,
and then sat at the kitchen table talking, and it was very
fruitful.
Boris Alexeivich was also interested in church and
state questions, and told me something of the debates about
religious education in state schools - very interesting in the
light of debates on the same topic in South Africa. He said Roman
Catholic studies in Poland had shown that where there was
religious catechesis in state schools, fewer young people went to
church. He also said that in Russia local authorities gave large
sums of money for the reconstruction of churches, but often
expected political favours in return. He said that Fr Alexander
Men had been killed in this place (Semkhoz), and that home was
here, while his parish was in Pushkina, a few stations down the
line towards Moscow.
It was altogether a very pleasant afternoon,
and we left about 6:00 pm to return to Moscow. We walked to the
Semkhoz station and caught the train there. Natalia pointed out
the opposite side of the tracks where Fr Alexander Men had been
murdered on his way home. It was such a pleasant place, it was
hard to think of such a thing happening here. The train going
back was even more crowded, but at least the seats were padded,
so it was not quite such a bum-numbing experience as the ride
out. It was about the same distance as Johannesburg from
Pretoria, and the train also took about an hour and a half for
the trip. I said goodbye to Natalia on the Metro train, and
returned to Danilov monastery - it was about 8:45 pm when I got
back. Had supper with Andrei, and told him of my doings.
20-Aug-1995, Sunday
I went to Hours and Divine Liturgy in the
Church of the Seven Ecumenical Councils at 6:30, then Natalia
Kulkova was waiting for me outside the monastery main entrance at
9:30, to take me to Sergiev Posad. It was raining quite hard when
I went out to see her, so I took my umbrella, and she wanted to
know if I would like to postpone the trip because of the rain,
but I thought we should continue, as it looked as though it would
clear up.
We took the Metro to Komsomolskaya Station, and then
bought tickets to Sergiev Posad at the Yaroslavl Station. It was
about R15.00 return for both of us - a lot cheaper than a similar
distance would be in the USA. The train was quite crowded -
enormous cavernous carriages with hard wooden seats and two rows
of people sitting three abreast. Book and newspaper sellers came
in at intervals, and announced their wares from the end of the
carriages. They were selling Komsomolskaya Pravda and other
papers. They looked a bit like street preachers. A little later a
woman came in and made a plug for alms, and several people gave
her money. The train passed through the Moscow suburbs - most of
the tracks were overgrown with weeds, but the winter will
probably kill them off, and they add some greenery. Once beyond
the suburbs the line was mainly through birch forests, dotted
with dachas. There seemed to be few permanent settlements out
this way.
From the Sergiev Posad station we walked with other
pilgrims and tourists to the Lavra, and went in. There were signs
saying that one must pay a fee to take photographs inside. We
wandered around, but most of the churches were closed. The Holy
Trinity Church was open, which had the relics of St Sergius of
Radonezh, and some ikons, I believe, by St Andrei Rublyev, -
though some were said to be copies, as the originals are in the
Tretyakov gallery in Moscow. We looked at some of the bookshops,
but I did not buy anything, as they were too crowded. Most of the
people seemed to be tourists rather than pilgrims. It was
different from Danilov, where most of the visitors to the
monastery seemed to be going there to pray.
We wandered out to
the square in front of the monastery, where there were souvenir
stalls selling matryoshka dolls. I believe they were first made
here in Sergiev Posad. Then we went to catch a bus, and it was
greatly overcrowded, but we managed to squeeze in for a 20 minute
ride through the town and then fields to Semkhoz, where one of
the lecturers at the Institute, Boris Philippov, was staying at a
dacha. He is something of an expert on Orthodox-Roman Catholic
relations, and husband of Tatiana whom I met yesterday. We had
some difficulty in finding the place after we left the bus, and
we must have walked 3-4 kilometres up and down the roads between
the dachas. It was very pretty. The dachas were similar to beach
cottages on the Natal coast and elsewhere. Natalia said a lot of
pensioners lived here permanently. Eventually we found the place,
and met Boris Alexeivich Filippov, his daughter Maria
Krasevitskaya, and her children Paul and Maria. Paul was 18
months old, and was playing with a Fisher-Price activity centre
similar to the one Bridget had had at the same age. We had lunch,
and then sat at the kitchen table talking, and it was very
fruitful.
Boris Alexeivich was also interested in church and
state questions, and told me something of the debates about
religious education in state schools - very interesting in the
light of debates on the same topic in South Africa. He said Roman
Catholic studies in Poland had shown that where there was
religious catechesis in state schools, fewer young people went to
church. He also said that in Russia local authorities gave large
sums of money for the reconstruction of churches, but often
expected political favours in return. He said that Fr Alexander
Men had been killed in this place (Semkhoz), and that home was
here, while his parish was in Pushkina, a few stations down the
line towards Moscow.
It was altogether a very pleasant afternoon,
and we left about 6:00 pm to return to Moscow. We walked to the
Semkhoz station and caught the train there. Natalia pointed out
the opposite side of the tracks where Fr Alexander Men had been
murdered on his way home. It was such a pleasant place, it was
hard to think of such a thing happening here. The train going
back was even more crowded, but at least the seats were padded,
so it was not quite such a bum-numbing experience as the ride
out. It was about the same distance as Johannesburg from
Pretoria, and the train also took about an hour and a half for
the trip. I said goodbye to Natalia on the Metro train, and
returned to Danilov monastery - it was about 8:45 pm when I got
back. Had supper with Andrei, and told him of my doings.