Part 1: “Against the faith of Christ, Christian piety, and against Government and civil order”
Archimandrite Photius. Engraving by L.A. Seryakov In 1821 in St. Petersburg, Fr. Photius underwent an urgent operation. After four years of wearing a hairshirt and chains, the ascetic’s body was covered with sores, and the iron cross had almost grown into his chest, which had become one big ulcer. “All of my flesh has rotted to the bone,” the ascetic wrote in his Autobiography. Thanks to the surgical intervention, “The Lord delivered me from the gates of death.” In January 1822, under the influence of Countess Anna Orlova-Chesmenskaya, Metropolitan Seraphim (Glagolevsky) of St. Petersburg transferred Fr. Photius to the Skovoroda Monastery near Novgorod and elevated him to the rank of archimandrite. Within a short span of time, Archimandrite Photius made that monastery flourish as well. After Pascha of the same year, the Metropolitan invited him to St. Petersburg and placed him in the St. Alexander Nevsky Lavra.
On May 21, 1822, at the Lavra Fr. Photius met in person the Chief Procurator of the Holy Synod, Prince A.N. Golitsyn, who invited him to his home. After a number of meetings with the prince, during which the archimandrite taught Golitsyn “the word and work of God, three, six and nine hours a day,” the prince called him a “spiritual teacher” and a “Chrysostom.” On July 5, 1822, Prince Golitsyn arranged for Fr. Photius to meet with Tsar Alexander I. Metropolitan Seraphim attached special importance to that meeting. He blessed Fr. Photius with an icon of the Savior, “Not Made by Hands”.
While entering the palace, Fr. Photius made the sign of the cross in front of all the entrances and exits, “supposing that a whole host of evil spirits dwelled and were active there.” At the entrance to the hall where Alexander I was waiting for him, and without approaching the Tsar, he hoped to see an icon in order to make the sign of the cross before greeting him. Seeing a small icon of the Savior in an inconspicuous corner, the archimandrite crossed himself, fell on his knees in front of the icon, prayed, and only then approached the Emperor. His conversation with the monarch about the dangers of secret societies and their preparation for a coup d’etat lasted three hours, and the sovereign realized the abyss to which their subversive activities were leading the country. Archimandrite Photius reported to the Tsar about “the danger hanging over the Church from its enemies, both visible and secret.” The monarch bowed at Fr. Photius’ feet and subsequently called him an angel sent from Heaven. After that conversation, on August 1/14, 1822, the Emperor issued a “Decree on the closure of Masonic lodges and all secret societies on the territory of the Russian Empire,” and dismissed high-ranking Masons. It was the first victory of the Russian Opposition. On the day the decree was issued, Fr. Photius received a pectoral cross and a jeweled panagia from His Majesty’s office.
Archimandrite Photius’s influence on the Tsar continued. Undoubtedly Fr. Photius had an influence not only on the spiritual development of the sovereign himself, but also on state policy concerning the religious life of Russia, since the Tsar’s communication with church figures had an impact on public life.
In August of the same year, 1822, Fr. Photius was appointed abbot of the first-class Yuriev (St. George) Monastery in the Novgorod Diocese. Recommending him to the Synod, Metropolitan Seraphim reported that Fr. Photius had revived two monasteries in a short time— Derevyanitsy and Skovoroda Monasteries—without a grant from the Treasury, and there was hope that he would restore Yuriev Monastery as well. Before leaving for his new place of service, Archimandrite Photius was invited to visit Empress Consort Elizabeth Alexeyevna, and in a conversation with her he mentioned, as he put it, “Prince Golitsyn and other enemies of the faith, the sons of iniquity."
Yuriev Monastery (Veliky Novgorod). Postcard. Illustration. late 19th–early 20th centuries. : Photo: Temples.ru
In 1825, Metropolitan Seraphim testified that Archimandrite Photius had made the Yuriev Monastery flourish again, that he “had a fervent zeal for the Church of God and a pious zeal for the good of the fatherland.”1 In a letter to Count A.A. Arakcheyev, the metropolitan wrote:
“But what can we say about the fiery zeal and diligence of Archimandrite Photius for the inviolable observance of the faith of our fathers? How can we count the labors and feats he has performed for the good of our Holy Church, which is continuously at war with the cunning machinations of the enemy of God and is disturbed by indirect attacks from devils incarnate—who all the more dangerous in that they act under the guise of love for their neighbor and zeal for the good of humanity?” And also: “Archimandrite Photius is utterly alien to any desire for temporary rewards. He has devoted himself to God and attained the perfection of Christian life.”2
Portrait of Archimandrite Photius of the 1820s. The year and a half that Fr. Photius spent at Yuriev Monastery was a time in which his authority grew much stronger.
“In Novgorod and the surrounding areas, among the common folk, in a significant part of St. Petersburg society, and in many other areas of Russia, Father Photius was respected as a righteous man, a ‘saint’, and ‘chosen byDivine Providence’.”3
Combining the qualities of a monk and a politician, the archimandrite fought against secret anti-Russian forces; guided by the grace of God and helped by several Orthodox laypeople, he defeated the secret sons of iniquity.
When he reappeared in St. Petersburg in February 1824, on April 20 he was invited to the Emperor's office and taken there furtively through a secret entrance. The Tsar spoke to him for three hours—from six to nine in the evening. Fr. Photius had more conversations with the Tsar—on June 14, August 6, 1824, and February 12, 1825. On July 25, 1825, the Emperor visited the Yuriev Monastery. He was at the early Liturgy (celebrated by Archimandrite Photius). “After that, the Emperor spent time with Archimandrite Photius in his quarters, discussing the affairs of the Holy Church. And at eight in the morning he departed.”4 “God loves our Church, He loves you, the Tsar, and the people..., and therefore I reveal that it is possible to shatter the entire plan (to overthrow the monarchy and destroy the Orthodox Church),” the archimandrite wrote to the sovereign. Fr. Photius was the first to send messages to the Tsar denouncing the wrong religious policies that Alexander I had pursued almost throughout his reign, and the Tsar heeded the archimandrite’s words. After that, Fr. Photius severed all relations with Golitsyn and even anathematized him, not hesitating to tell everyone about it.
In 1824, a Russian translation of the book, The Gospel of Matthew, by the Protestant pastor Johannes Gossner (who was distributing anti-Orthodox literature in the Russian Empire) appeared. Gossner's book was a lampoon of the Orthodox Church and its clergy. It prompted the Archimandrite to ask the Emperor for an audience. He drew Alexander I’s attention to the danger threatening the Church from the distribution of such books. He convinced the Tsar of the harm of the policy pursued by Golitsyn, who allowed the printing of books that contradicted the teachings of the Orthodox Church. In conclusion, Fr. Photius said of Golitsyn: “He is an accursed sheep, or rather, a goat.” That report resulted in Gossner being expelled from Russia, and Prince Golitsyn being relieved of his post as Minister of Education and membership in the Commission of the Establishment of Public Schools. He was also ousted as President of the Bible Society.
With the accession of Nicholas I (1825–1855) to the throne came the peaceful years of a new reign. During that time, Fr. Photius put all his energy into ecclesiastical labors at the Yuriev Monastery. His sermons attracted many pilgrims to the monastery.
The archimandrite’s first and most important merit with regard to the Orthodox Church and the Russian people is that thanks to his efforts, a royal decree was issued banning Masonic lodges, and thus the events of 18255 did not incite all of society to revolution and violence. (Let us recall that 120 Decembrists were Freemasons.) However, the conspirators’ provocation on Senate Square caused the deaths of 1,270 people in the capital, mostly from among deceived common folk. Archimandrite Photius, together with his followers, saved Russia from destruction— December 1825 could have become February 1917.
His second merit is the revival of the Yuriev Monastery in Novgorod, reputedly the oldest monastery in Russia. Abbot Photius was helped in everything by his spiritual daughter Countess A. A. Orlova-Chesmenskaya, who provided her own funds for the restoration of all of his monasteries, and used her influence at the court. Both of them were slandered by secular people. Fr. Photius was considered to be a “fanatic”, as he strictly adhered to Orthodoxy. They tried to defame the Archimandrite for exposing the activities of Freemasons. “Deliver me from the false accusations of men, and I will keep Thy commandments (Ps. 118:134),” Countess Anna Orlova–Chesmenskaya often repeated, suffering from vile libel and slander against her and her spiritual father. Fr. Photius himself ignored the rumors and slander of the secular rabble. Elizaveta Petrovna Yankova (1768–1861), a religious contemporary, refuted the slanderers:
“What Fr. Photius’s detractors and enemies were saying about his ‘unacceptable feelings’ for Countess Orlova is fiction and malicious slander. He led a strict ascetic life and was very stern with women in general, and the Countess was a pious virgin who loved prayer. It was said that she was once tonsured secretly and that she would have gone to a convent, but she was not allowed to do it as a Lady-in-Waiting to the Empress, and therefore she remained in the world, but wore a hairshirt under her rich garments and lived like a nun.”6
The grave of Archimandrite Photius and Countess Anna at the Church of the Annunciation in Arkazhy, Veliky Novgorod Archimandrite Photius died after a long illness on February 26, 1838, having received the great schema before his repose. He passed away in the arms of his spiritual daughter, Countess Anna Orlova, at the age of forty-six, and was buried at the Yuriev Monastery. Anna herself was interred there ten years later. Miraculous healings began to occur at their graves. The writer Nikolai Leskov wrote in his article, “The Little Things in a Bishop’s Life”:
“It is impossible to discern from whom miracles are coming—whether they are from Fr. Photius or from Countess Orlova, who rests next to him. It is hard to identify this, because miracles are wrought at both tombs located side by side. But they cannot be separated, and therefore we must wait for a special sign, which is being awaited.”
Liberals of all stripes cursed their illustrious names, and even today they again surround them with lies. Over the entire twentieth century not a single, even minor work about Archimandrite Photius has been published in Russia.
In the 1930s, the communists exhumed the remains of Archimandrite Photius and Anna Orlova and scattered them across the crypt. According to tradition, the faithful preserved Fr. Photius’ remains and buried them in a separate grave, which has survived to this day.
Archimandrite Photius will forever remain one of the most remarkable historical figures of the nineteenth century. He was among those who caused the revolution in Russian religious and public life that marked the second half of Tsar Alexander I’s reign. We hope that the time will come when Archimandrite Photius (Spassky) will be canonized by the Church.
