On the eve of the patronal feast of the Church of the Nativity of the Most Holy Theotokos in the city of Kirov we talked with a cleric of the parish, Priest Alexei Shishkin, about faith and holiness, happiness and miracles, and how the qualities of these categories manifest themselves in people living in the modern world.
Priest Alexei Shishkin
To have faith
—Father Alexei, how is the confession of faith revealed in everyday life of modern people?
—In the striving to live according to the commandments of God, in reading the Gospel—the Word of God, and it does not really matter where you want to put it into practice: be it in church, during prayer or at work; whether you ride on a trolleybus, drive a car or stand at a traffic light—a Christian is always and everywhere a Christian. We can talk about details, but, in general, a real Christian remains one everywhere—in everyday life, in communication with a stranger; a seller or a buyer, a boss or a subordinate. For a Christian everything is subordinated to the same Gospel law, which is the basis of his spiritual life.
—Then what distinguishes a Christian?
—Usually, at the beginning, when someone strives to become a Christian, he reads the Gospel, trying to get to know Christ to the best of his ability, then goes to Church and through people who serve God he tries to get to know Christ, thereby creating in himself a feeling of what it is like to be a Christian. And then this personal quality is transferred from the inside to the outside. Every specific situation is unique in some sense, and it is quite difficult to fit it into some framework. But in general, a person feels from the inside that he is a Christian, and how this will manifest itself from the outside varies in every specific situation.
—What does it mean to have faith?
—There are three components of the concept of faith in the Orthodox Church: confidence in the existence of God; faithfulness to God—that is, the fulfillment of God’s commandments; and trust in God—that is, trust in His Providence and that everything that happens is according to God’s will and is good.
In modern culture, the word “faith” often implies that “there is something out there”, apparently something immaterial, but this approach has nothing to do with the Christian faith. For Christians, faith consists of three components: confidence in the existence of God—not an abstract “something”, but, according to Orthodox dogmatics, we believe in a concrete God Who created this world and man, Who acts in this world and takes care of it; the second component is trust in God, in His all–good Providence; and the third component is faithfulness to God—if God commands to do this, then I do this, and if God commands not to do that, then I don’t do that. All this makes up the Christian worldview, on the basis of which you can act as a Christian in every situation. And a Christian makes his choice every time: how he should act, behave, think and perceive reality.
Of course, you can object here and argue that Christians make mistakes too. Indeed, everyone makes mistakes, everyone sins, Christians sin and I sin, but it does not make me an adherent of another faith. To be more precise, although this is not an excuse for sin, sin, error in itself does not make us non–Christians. After all, before someone learns to run, jump and flip, he first learns to crawl on his knees, then learns to stand, then walk, and only then to run at least a little, then jump a little and so on—that is, the cultivation of an inner Christian happens incrementally. After all, none of us will reproach a small child when he falls, saying, “I never fall, but he has fallen.” On the contrary, we be lenient, knowing that the time will come when he learns to walk. So, the fact that I sin is not such a tragedy after which I cannot live. An Orthodox Christian realizes that the Lord will cleanse a contrite heart from sin, heal and calm it.
Of course, we speak differently about different sins, which require a different measure of repentance and correction. And it does not mean that we can commit any sins. We must not commit any sins, but if a person has sinned, this is his mistake. What should be done after making a mistake? Admit and try to correct it. This is the way of any Christian. More than that, this is the way of the saints: Admit a mistake, stand up, move on and try not to repeat them anymore. If you have committed a sin and fallen again, then get up again, shake yourself off and walk on—and you must always do it this way. This is the path of all Christians, and even of the saints.
The Path of Holiness
—If the Orthodox faith presupposes a person’s desire for spiritual perfection and holiness, how can it be attained nowadays?
—I think the path of holiness is attainable at all times in the same way, since it is a spiritual category. It is hard for me to identify any differences between the present time and the earlier eras, since I did not live 1,500 years ago, and can’t compare them objectively. Obviously, each era has its own specific life. But the path of holiness is never closed to anyone in any circumstances.
—Probably, now it is easier for most people in terms of practical things and daily chores than, for example, it was for our great-grandparents. However, with all the external comfort, our mind has gone to the internet.
—If we go into details, then yes, in terms of information; but it does not concern everybody. If I have mental discipline and try to limit myself, it does not mean that I become free from the stream of information flowing from all sides, but it means that I try to keep this process in check and limit the stream of information to prevent it from making my life miserable and too difficult.
There were problems both then and now. But what difficulties can we talk about in our time if a person, for example, wants to imitate St. Sergius of Radonezh? He just abandons everything, takes a tent, retreats into the forest, and lives there for ten years. What information can be there? He has no idea what’s going on in the world and talks with bears!
—But even now, society doesn’t usually understand people who move to live in the country, with modest living conditions, leaving their urban apartments and motivating such a way of life with the confession of their faith. Such an approach seems strange.
—Holiness will never seem normal even among Christians. If you take a crowd of Christians and single out one of them who aspires to holiness, everyone will say that he is strange and unusual. Holiness is always “strange”, “other-worldly” and “unusual”. Seeing someone performing ascetic labors, others will always say, “Isn’t this enough for you?! What else do you want?” An ascetic does not want to become a saint in order to be depicted on icons or to be venerated and respected (he will be dead by then anyway and it won’t make difference to him). A person striving for holiness wants to get closer to God. And it is hard for people who are far from God to understand that a saint wants to get closer and closer to the Almighty, because this is a quality of love—to be closer to each other, and mutually enrich each other. After all, when two individuals love each other, they have such comingling and mutual love; if two people are real friends, they want to spend time together, share grief, joy and everything else. When a person walks closer to God, he shows the same aspirations of the soul: he moves towards God and wants to get closer to Him.
Priest Alexei Shishkin held a tour around the Monastery of the Holy Dormition and St. Tryphon for Orthodox psychologists
A person who is happy in God
—Can we say that faith makes people happy?
—In my view, the category of happiness is hardly ever discussed in the Church, and for me it is a puzzle. We have nine Beatitudes: blessed are the merciful, blessed are the pure in heart, blessed are the peacemakers... If we translate the word “blessed”, it means “happy”. Happy are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, happy are the meek, happy are the merciful, and so forth. These are the commandments of happiness. But, unfortunately, in Orthodoxy happiness is not spoken about for some reason. For many it means some heavenly, unusual happiness. It seems to me that someone who is happy in God is truly happy. If you ask him, “Are you happy?” he will say, “Yes, I’m happy.” If an outsider sees such a person and we ask him if this person is happy, he will answer: “Yes, he is, because happiness is visible and can be felt.”
What is this paradisiac state? It is the state of happiness: not because you bought an expensive car or a beautiful watch—it’s about different things. Two old friends have met: are they happy? Yes, they are. Or two people who love each other have met after separation; or someone who had not seen his daughter or son for a long time finally met them—he is happy too. This is the state of happiness—it can be “read”, it is visible, and it is immaterial. It is not the same as buying an expensive car, or, for example, the satisfaction of revenge. The feeling of satisfaction from outward blessings is an overly mundane understanding of happiness. So, a parent who met with a child after separation is happy, two friends who have not seen each other for a long time are happy when they meet, and lovers are happy together. A man who is with God is happy. There are slightly different connotations and degrees of happiness, and still a person, if he lives a proper Christian life, without a doubt, becomes happy. Others just can’t figure out what makes him happy. From the outside they see that he limits himself in many things: fasts, loses weight, and his hair is falling out; he does not have fun on weekends, but attends “boring” church services; he does not steal at work, but does everything honestly and receives a small salary; but he is still happy, you see? Against all the odds, he’s still happy, although it’s unclear to outsiders.
When people achieve a thousand times more by earthly standards, they are unhappy, but this person, who seemingly lives a very boring and uneventful life and has not attained the heights, is happy. This is happiness in God. It is sometimes incomprehensible to people, but I can say for sure: he who leads a proper church life and makes efforts to get closer to God becomes happy. And this is noticeable both to himself and to others.
Questions of being
—And when did you realize that you believed in God? How did you convert?
—I came to the faith at the age of nineteen. At the time, I was feeling the utter meaninglessness of everything. Philosophers and psychologists call it an “existential crisis”. People tend to ask this question at a certain age: I believe that most people have it at an older age, but I had it at nineteen. I thought about the purpose of life and felt that everything was meaningless. “What difference does it make whether I come to a lecture or not, pass an exam or not, get a job or not—there is no point in all this; or whether I die as an outstanding scientist, an astronaut, a great writer, or as an alcoholic on the street—it makes no difference, since everything is emptiness. So where is the meaning?” I started searching for it and found it in God.
Every person has a slightly different perception of God, just as different people perceive the same person in slightly different ways. Even two brothers can perceive their parents individually. And it is clear that God is Who He is, but for me personally God is meaning in Himself and gives this meaning to all things. He gives this meaning to life, to every human being, to every event in his life, and to everything that happens in the world. After all, if there is no God, then whatever I have achieved or whatever I have lost makes no sense at all. But if there is a God and He cares for everything, then whatever I do, whatever decisions I make, and whatever happens in the world makes sense, and it’s not in vain. For me personally it is an important part of the perception of God—giving the meaning. God, as the Absolute, gives absolute meaning to absolutely everything. Therefore, for the life of a person’s eternal soul, for his earthly existence, for the life of plants and animals, for environmental issues and universal catastrophes all this is endowed with meaning. At the age of nineteen my search for God began, and my further formation and understanding of all these things took place in the process.
In the Church
—It seems I searched for God with such intensity that I almost became a Jehovah Witness—for some time I was very interested in them. By Divine Providence, I was surrounded by church people who corrected my path and carefully suggested what and how I should do, for which I am very grateful to them. Then I joined the Foma club, where those new to the Church would gather for discussions. It was at the Church of the holy Martyrs Faith, Hope, Love and their mother Sophia, and the club was headed by Father Oleg Fominykh—now a deacon, then a layman. Father Pyotr Mashkovtsev, Father Andrei Rassanov talked with us, and even Father Andrei Lebedev came to us from Urzhum where he served at that time. And during those meetings I received answers to many questions. In my opinion, it was the process of my integration into Church life.
To be continued…
