On the outskirts of Fatezh, a small town in the Kursk region, stands the episcopal Dependency of St. Luke of Crimea. We talked with Nun Seraphima (Golovina), the dependency’s senior nun, about monastic life for women, the path to the convent, difficulties and the love of the Lord.
Nun Seraphima (Golovina). Kurskpds.ru
—Mother Seraphima, in your opinion, what is the fundamental difference between monastic life for women and for men?
—Monastic life for men and for women is the same: we take the same vows. The most important thing is the acquisition of the Holy Spirit, purity and chastity. This unites us. Men are considered to be stronger, but women can be very strong as well. But in men’s monastic life there is also the priesthood—this is the fundamental difference. In addition to ordinary monks, there are hieromonks, igumens and archimandrites, bishops, archbishops, metropolitans and Patriarchs., Monastic clergy take more efforts and more service on themselves compared to married priests. It is about being chosen by God, and we have a very reverent attitude towards this. Monastic clergy are not burdened with worldly cares and have more opportunity to reveal their abilities in the service of God. There is no male or female in monastic life. A monastic overcomes everything.
St. Luke of Crimea said of women’s service for that a woman’s heart is more sensitive. The Lord has endowed women with a different charisma, which is not the same as that of men.
As I pray in my cell, I see gazing at me from icons and photographs people who made progress in monastic life. For example, there is our St. Luke of Crimea and Elder Kirill (Pavlov), who served at the Holy Trinity-St. Sergius Lavra and was the father-confessor of Patriarchs. Monastic life for men is aimed to the hieghts; there is a certain “flight” in it.
—How did you realize that your vocation in life is monasticism? Did you have any examples, saints who influenced such a decision?
—It was a miracle of God, Divine Providence. We grew up in the Soviet era when everything related to the Church was prohibited and Orthodoxy was persecuted. I had a life-changing meeting with Schema-Abbess Antonia (Sukhikh; 1929–2012). Sisters gathered around her, and she had many spiritual children. She ended her earthly life at the Convent of the Venerable Alexis, the Man of God, in the village of Zolotukhino of the Kursk region. Many people who knew her and turned to her for help always come there, to her grave. Abbess Susanna from the Holy Trinity Convent of Kursk comes with her sisters. Mother Elisabeth, Abbess of the Convent of St. Alexis, the Man of God, welcomes all guests cordially. We also gather on her name day and on her birthday.
I first met Mother Antonia when I was a nurse in St. Petersburg. The St. Petersburg Diocese arranged trips to holy places for us. We went to the our country’s north, to the Tikhvin Icon of the Mother of God, to the monasteries of Kaluga, and then to the Monastery of St. Joseph of Volokolamsk, where Mother Antonia lived in a community for nuns attached to it. We were not allowed in there for some time, and some even began to grumble.
It was the celebration of the Vladimir Icon of the Mother of God on July 6. An ancient monastery, bells were ringing, and a priest was holding a prayer service. The grace of God touched us so much that we did not want to leave, and some were weeping. And suddenly Mother Antonia was brought in; then she still could walk, but later she used a wheelchair. She was wearing several garments: a shirt, then a cassock, a ryassa with large sleeves, and a mantia. There was a klobuk as well. Other nuns led her by the arms.
Schema-Abbess Antonia (Sukhikh). Kursk-sestry.ru I had never seen nuns so close before, so they seemed to be floating. And suddenly the priest said to Schema-Abbess Antonia: “Mother, nurses from St. Petersburg are here. They take care of sick people and have come from such a holy city, where are the saints Xenia of St. Petersburg, John of Kronstadt, and Alexander Nevsky. Let’s sing ‘Many years’ to them.” The nuns sang, and we venerated St. Joseph’s shrine. As it turned out, although the shrine was empty, the relics of St. Joseph were there at the monastery. We were overwhelmed by grace and couldn’t even understand what was happening to us. Then we came up to Mother Antonia to receive her blessing and kiss her hand, then the priest anointed us with holy oil and we all stepped aside—almost all of us were weeping.
I immediately thought that I would definitely come back there on my own. And I eventually returned to the eldress, although my father-confessor was reluctant to let me go, because I was a senior nurse. Mother Antonia had a true source of love, which was poured out on everyone and everything. Her most important prayer was for all who came to her. I was her cell-attendant and absorbed all this, listening to all those stories. Someone’s son took to drink, someone else’s child was taken to hospital, someone else’s daughter-in-law cheated on her husband, etc. And Mother Antonia would take all that pain and sorrow on herself and pray for everyone.
In 2004, we were transferred to the land of Kursk: Mother Antonia and I moved to the Holy Trinity Convent, then several sisters moved to Zolotukhino. When Schema-Abbess Antonia reposed, Vladyka Benjamin[1] took me to the episcopal dependency under construction of St. Luke of Crimea. According to the documents, I am the senior sister here.
—Now you are the abbess of the convent in honor of St. Luke of Crimea. Are there currently many sisters at the convent?
—We have five sisters and five graves at the convent now. Many came here as laypeople and received the tonsure here. Today there are three nuns and two laborers at the convent.
One nun knew me from the convent in Zolotukhino. She loved St. Luke very much and came here to struggle. Vladyka Benjamin liked her very much—the Lord reveals such things to bishops. One day another nun came to Mother Antonia, and she said to her, “Return your ticket and stay at the convent! You have a monastic path.” But she disobeyed, went to Moscow and developed cancer there. After Mother Antonia’s death she came to us and eventually stayed, taking monastic vows—that’s how the Lord arranged it. Another sister was brought to the convent after her mother’s death. She comes from a large family, and her brothers all had their own families. At one time she was a laborer here and then took monastic vows. Basically, elderly people who come to the convent come out of need. One of the sisters simply had nowhere to live. But it is not easy to stay in monasticism. Everyone comes with their sorrows and passions, and it’s hard.
—Is there anyone among the nuns who supports, guides and inspires you with their example today?
—Of course, this is the succession from Mother Antonia—her spiritual daughters who became abbesses. These are Abbess Elisabeth of the convent in Zolotukhino and Abbess Susanna of the Holy Trinity Convent in Kursk. We communicate very closely and actively. I always ask for their prayers and help. Another friend of mine is Abbess Barbara, who always supports me. She began her monastic path at the convent in the town of Maloyaroslavets (the Kaluga region), and now she is abbess at the convent in Essentuki in the Caucasus (the Stavropol region). She was a spiritual child of Vladyka Theophan,[2] who was born and grew up near Kursk. I can receive instructions and spiritual guidance and ask for help and blessings from these mothers.
Abbess Barbara (Shurygina). Mgeorg.ru
There is the Monastery of the Kursk Root Icon in the town of Svoboda not far from us with hieromonks and fathers to whom we can confess, and from whom we can receive spiritual counsel. And our ruling hierarch, Bishop Paisiy of Zheleznogorsk and Lgov, my immediate superior, loves monastic life as well. Before becoming a bishop, he had labored at Novospassky Monastery in Moscow for many years. Thank God that after Vladyka Benjamin we have such a spiritual mentor who visits us, talks with the sisters, and gives us instructions. I can call him at any time, and he will always hear me out and support me. Surely, there should be continuity, and thank God that it exists.
And, of course, I always have the example of Mother Antonia before me. When I was her cell-attendant, monks would come to her. All elders have different talents. Mother Antonia had a very big heart. She always wondered how she could endure it all with her heart. She was dying because her heart couldn’t withstand it—she took all the pain that people came to her with on herself.
Today we are also edified when reading the Lives of the saints, and now we love to listen to Archpriest Andrei Tkachev. Although he is a married priest, I believe that he is a “John Chrysostom” of our time. What profound sermons he gives! You can find answers to any questions in them.
Some nuns who do not want to leave their convent simply find father-confessors for themselves. They go to the abbess of the convent less often. As for men, those who wish to struggle find a priest and do not want to part with him—they go to serve there selflessly and help him.
There was a time when I would often travel to Valaam, and found there a wonderful pastor, Archimandrite Methodius (Petrov; 1961–2021). Unfortunately, he did not survive COVID-19. I saw his assistants, who have now become nuns. And I knew a woman who worked for many years as an accountant at a monastery. On the one hand, women often have this trait—to sacrifice themselves, not to seek any profit and just to help others. Likewise, sisters of mercy served sacrificially, despite their secular titles. Women’s ministry consists precisely in this sacrifice.
On the other hand, it is self-fulfillment. After losing their husbands many women find themselves in God. It happens under the guidance of igumens and hieromonks, who pastor their huge flocks. There are always luminaries of monasticism in monasteries for men, to whom people stand in line for confession for hours. May the Lord grant us more fathers with a high spiritual life who would instruct us for our edification. I want to see more women in convents. May God grant everyone to serve in their place. But women are needed even in men ‘s monasteries, because there are certain jobs that women do better: cleaning the territory and churches, cooking or sewing vestments. Men often do not have such assiduity, so they can’t do without women. Tsarinas used to embroider rizas for icons. Grand duchesses and royal ladies were also inspired by gazing at the Mother of God,.
—In your view, what are the major challenges and problems in monastic life for women today?
—Everything is fine with God, and when you have a spiritual mentor who teaches you. If you are a monk or a nun, then obey and follow the example of your elders. The problem is with ourselves. We come to the convent with our passions. Adult women come with their own habits and characters and do not want to humble themselves. It is painful to see when they begin to teach others, while they still don’t understand anything and believe that they have already become spiritually stronger. Young women come with poor health—older nuns can often do more than younger ones. Besides, young women often come with mental disorders; this is a mark of our times.
Mother Antonia always taught us to endure both pain and illness, but at the same time stick to the golden mean. You can take medicine and lie down to rest if you really need to. But without the grace of God we are nothing. As one elder said, if you put stones into a bag and shake it all the time, gradually they rub each other smooth. A large convent is a constant bloodless martyrdom: you don’t do what you want, but what you are told. And if someone hurts you, you have to cover it with love. But, thank God, there is a spiritual mentor whom you can come to and share your temptations and sorrows with—and he will instruct you.
Saints often act as our mentors. I have a book on the Venerable Abbess Arsenia (Sebryakova; 1833–1905) of Ust-Medveditskaya, a great ascetic. It was presented to me and signed by Elder John (Krestiankin) through his cell-attendant. At that moment, I was having a temptation myself. A monastic is supposed to be alone—from the word “mono”—but I had become attached to someone, and it was hard for me without one of the sisters. And Mother Antonia taught us that there should be no one in your heart but God. Once as I was walking with her (then I would travel to her from St. Petersburg), I asked her how to love to be able to forgive everyone. And then there was a starry sky, and she said, “Can you see a star flickering? We must love the Lord with all our heart so that there is no priest, no nun in our heart, but God alone.” This more concerns monastics than laypeople. And in the book on Abbess Arsenia I found comforting words that became balm to my soul. And that passion subsided immediately. It is certainly great to be edified by such spiritual works. I would like to reread this book.
—There are very few sisters at your convent and much to do. What are the biggest problems?
—The biggest problem for us is that we still cannot build a church in honor of our beloved St. Luke of Crimea. We had an architect who worked on the design, but he died, and his son didn’t even want to speak to us. We have been looking for local architects, but so far unsuccessfully. Our convent is situated in a very beautiful place on an elevation surrounded by water meadows. Several buildings where St. Luke (Voino-Yasenetsky) worked have survived in the area. There is an old hospital building here. It has been eleven years since the first open-air Liturgy was celebrated here. By a miracle the construction of a hospital began next to our convent—it has already been working actively for several years. The hospital is now using two of its floors to treat the wounded [from the war, and the attacks on Kursk region]. We visit these patients and invite a priest to give them Communion or unction when needed.
The area of our convent is very large, but it has no modern conveniences. Only grass grows here, which we mow. Unfortunately, construction is not moving ahead yet, and the buildings are in an unusable condition. A benefactor used to help us, but now everything is at a standstill. We ask the Lord and St. Luke for help. I really want to find an architect who would help us with the design of the church. Maybe there is someone who wholeheartedly wants to build a church for the holy Hiero-confessor Luke, where a huge number of people could gather. Although St. Luke did not serve as a bishop here, but was a physician here,[3] this place has nevertheless been preserved, and I really want it to be transformed more and more so that people can come, communicate and spend time here. Doctors are drawn here, and patients find help and comfort here. May God grant that everything is transformed here. We hope and pray that the Lord will not forsake us.
