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My Life in Christ
St John of Kronstadt, tr. Goulaeff, 1897
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In order to introduce the author of this book, the Reverend John Sergieff, to English readers, I consider it well to reprint from the Times of the 13th January, 1891, the following account of the Jubilee celebration of the 35th anniversary of the entry into the Orthodox ministry of this most remarkable and popular man: —
“Father Ivan, or John of Cronstadt, known and revered in every nook and corner of Russia, has hitherto been almost entirely unknown to English readers; but a circumstance just reported to the British chaplain at Cronstadt seems to indicate that the Christian influence of this remarkable priest of the Russian Church has at last found its way even into the United Kingdom. A short time ago a letter reached the British clergyman at Cronstadt, addressed in English to the parish priest of that port. It came from a correspondent in county Kerry, Ireland, and earnestly begged for the prayers of Father John on behalf of the writer, who appeared to be in great distress of mind and body. His letter is being translated, and will be forwarded to the reverend pastor.
“This is a curious proof of the influence and reputation of this wonderful man, who, in the midst of his Russian surroundings, seems to approach in these days to the first Apostles. He is, indeed, a true physician of the Gospel. His extraordinary healing powers, and the spiritual and bodily cures effected by the faithful acceptance of his earnest consolations, are attested on all sides by many sorts and conditions of men. To those who believe in Father John — and their name is legion — the age of miracles is not yet over. Crowds press round him whenever he leaves his humble abode, and are happy if they can only touch the hem of his modest garb. Father John’s life is one of uninterrupted and self-sacrificing charity and Christian ministration among the poor, the sick and the needy; not, however, refusing his presence and prayers to the well-to-do and rich, who send for him when other help fails, and never in vain, from all parts of the country. He has no vast business organisation of charity, and no corybantic Christianity, like ‘General’ Booth, and no religious politics, like Archbishop Nicanor of Odessa. Although enormous sums of money have passed through his hands to the Russian poor in all directions, he is still a poor man, living in the humblest possible way. Steamboats and trains in which he journeys to and fro on his truly Christian work are besieged with such crowds that the police have to protect him from their pressure.
“The report of his appearance in any house in St. Petersburg — and the news spreads like wild-fire — brings throngs of poor people, running madly from all the surrounding streets, to get within the range of his healing presence, to receive his blessing, or to implore his attendance at the sick-bed of relatives or friends.
“He advocates no impracticable Christian theories like Tolstoy; his life is one entirely of good works, and his influence for good among the Russian masses, who have not yet reached the state of cynical unbelief of the lower orders in other countries, is greater, perhaps, than of any Russian under the Czar.
“The festival in his honour at Cronstadt, an island most difficult and inconvenient of access in winter, was attended by great crowds of people, rich and poor, who made their way across the ice of the gulf to the isolated island, from St. Petersburg and other places. Thirty priests officiated at the Church service on the occasion, and deputations from various benevolent and other societies, including even one of beggars, presented the reverend Father with gifts of silver-bound Bibles and Holy pictures. The most touching sight of all was the gift of a small bunch of flowers by a poor sickly woman, with a child in her arms. An eye-witness states that the crowd and Father John were moved to tears. At a banquet in the evening, at which the Governor and the Admiral of the Port presided, paupers, mendicants, and moujiks sat cheek by jowl with ladies, officials, and naval officers to drink the health and long life of Father John.”
These lines were written in 1891, by the able Times correspondent in St. Petersburg, Mr. Dobson. Beyond fully endorsing this account of the remarkable and charitable life of the Reverend John Sergieff, very little remains for me to say on the subject. Indeed, since the appearance of the above correspondence the power of Father John’s prayers for the sick and needy, far from diminishing, has become, if possible, still more efficacious.
His faith in God is the very same of which Christ spoke: “Verily, I say unto you, if ye have faith, and doubt not, ye shall not only do this which is done to the fig tree, but also if ye shall say unto this mountain: ‘Be thou removed and be thou cast into the sea,’ it shall be done.” (St. Matthew xxi. 21.) And not a single day passes without the truth of these glorious and comforting words of Christ’s being proved by some sick person, who has asked for Father John’s prayers. Thus, quite recently the following account appeared in one of the St. Petersburg papers: — “In the pious family of a prince in St. Petersburg, in the presence of many witnesses, Father John entered the house at the request of the parents, to visit their daughter, who had kept her bed for four months, having lost the use of her feet. He prayed, with all those present for her, and afterwards, touching the sick girl, he said to her: ‘Believe, and rise up;’ and she, believing, rose up, walked across the room, and recovered.” To show that the healing power of Father John’s prayers of faith is independent of great distances, I will here give the following instance, described in the recently published book: —
“An Account of the Life and Acts of Father John of Cronstadt.
“In October, 1889, in Moscow, in the family of a certain Mr. S — ff, two children fell ill with diphtheria. Notwithstanding the measures at once taken, the illness developed rapidly and increased. A consultation of doctors was held, and it was decided to resort to tracheotomy. One can imagine the despair of the children’s parents. Having lost hope in human aid, they sent a telegram to Father John of Cronstadt, begging for his prayers. The Reverend Father received this telegram in the morning, at the time when he was performing the early Liturgy, and, as he usually does, immediately after reading the telegram, he addressed his earnest prayer to God. Meanwhile, what was taking place in Moscow? It had been decided to perform the operation of tracheotomy at two o’clock on that day, but already at nine o’clock, a.m. (at the very time of Father John’s prayers in Cronstadt, some 500 miles away), the doctor who remained on duty noticed an improvement, which progressed as rapidly as the illness had previously developed. The doctors, having assembled at the appointed time of two o’clock p.m., found such certain improvement in the condition of the children that the operation was pronounced unnecessary. In three to four days both children completely recovered.”
To conclude my introduction of the author of this book, the Reverend John Sergieff, to English readers, it will not, perhaps, be out of place to reproduce his letter to the editors of the St. Petersburg Church News, dated soon after the recent much-lamented death of the late peace-loving Emperor Alexander III. of Russia, as the letter contains the following lines concerning the last days and moments of this remarkable Emperor, deplored not only in his own country, but also throughout the whole of Europe, as the great “Prince of Peace.” Father John wrote as follows: —
“On the 17th of October, 1894, in accordance with the deceased Emperor’s desire, I administered the Holy Sacrament to his Imperial Majesty. On those sorrowful days I performed the Liturgy daily, either at the palace church of Livadia, or at the church of Oryanda; and on the day named, just after the celebration of Divine service, I came to the august invalid from the last-named church with the Cup of Life. He partook of the life-giving Holy Sacrament from my hands with deep devotion. On the 20th of October his Imperial Majesty wished to see me again. I hastened to go to him immediately after the celebration of the Liturgy, and remained in his presence until the moment of his peaceful death. By the wish of the Empress, I read the prayer for healing the patient, and anointed him with oil taken from the lamp that burns before a deeply venerated thaumaturgical icon, and supplied by the Reverend Father Alexander of Yalta, by the wish of some pious persons, for the purpose of anointing the august invalid, which ceremony was duly performed. Having received this anointing with sincere faith, the Emperor expressed the wish that I should lay my hands on his head, and when I had done so, his Majesty said to me: ‘The people love you.’ ‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘your people love me.’ Then the Emperor was pleased to say: ‘Yes, because they know who you are and what you are.’ (His exact words.) Soon afterwards the august patient began to feel some very oppressive fits of asthma, and oxygen was constantly introduced into his mouth. He suffered severely. On his left side was the Empress, before him stood his two elder sons and the bride-elect, on his right side the younger children, the Grand Duke Michael, and the Grand Duchess Olga, whilst at the head of the arm-chair I myself stood. ‘Is it not oppressive to Your Imperial Majesty when I hold my hands on your head?’ asked I. ‘No,’ the Emperor was pleased to answer. ‘I feel better when you hold your hands over me.’ I replied: ‘That is because I came directly after the celebration of the Liturgy, carried the most pure Body of Christ in these same hands, and was myself a partaker of the Holy Sacrament.’”
Soon afterwards, speaking concerning the same national loss, Father John afforded great consolation to the orphaned Russian people by saying: “That though the Emperor Alexander III. died, in spite of the earnest, unanimous prayers of the whole people, still they might console themselves by the fact that, thanks to their heartfelt prayers, he died as only a really true Christian could die.”
Returning now to the object of this preface, it only remains to me to mention that my main purpose in translating this book, in my opinion very valuable, into English, is to spread throughout the world the principles of life brought forward in it (thanks to the fact that English is spoken by, and is known to, a great many inhabitants of the globe who do not know the Russian language), in order that the counsel given in the book may help its readers, whatever their nationality may be, in their self-amendment in the true spiritual life, and in the strengthening of their faith in our Lord.
In conclusion, I must apologise to English readers for having, notwithstanding my efforts, perhaps failed to reproduce in my translation the simple but beautiful and powerful language of the Russian original.
E. E. GOULAEFF.