This life was compiled by the nuns of Petru Vodă Monastery, founded by Archimandrite Justin (Pârvu) and headed by Abbess Iustina (Bujor).
Father of the poor and founder of the Vergu Church
To love with the love of Christ means covering your brother’s fall, suffering together with him, winning his heart with love and generosity. It means giving a part of your soul to the other.
St. Sava National College in Bucharest. Photo: Wikipedia
God heard the inner voice of his heart. With his wife’s appointment as a teacher of German and French at the Nicolae Bălcescu School in Bucharest and the confirmation of his transfer from Huși to the capital, he became a priest. Despite the recommendations of Bishop Nifon, who stated that “Fr. Sârbu is a loss for Huși and a gain for Bucharest,” he was given the Călărași Park parish, founded only in October 1938 and having neither a church building nor a parish house nor a plot of land in its poor working-class neighborhood.
The new parish priest served for two years without a salary, in complete poverty in an improvised chapel in the basement of the Queen Helen Hospital. But Fr. Constantin was no stranger to material hardships and human opposition, and wholeheartedly devoted himself to the spiritual edification of his parishioners, firmly believing that the light of Christ illumines every soul, to a greater or lesser degree.
I knew that there’s a spark of goodness in the human heart, and I tried to kindle it. Thus, in the basement—this barren hospital wine cellar with six small windows facing Labor Boulevard, whose panes were perpetually broken—I drew a white cross above each window. I myself, together with two old men, Ganchu and Rădulescu, shoveled out two wagonloads of sand from there and brought a table, an icon, and an oil lamp from home.
He served his first service with a homily on Christmas day, 1938. There were very few people, about seven or eight. And what was there for them to look at or listen to in this wretched wine cellar, which reeked of the mustiness of rot, and where moisture seeped down the slimy walls? For vestments he was given rags from the storage room of Silvestru Church, though it had dozens of magnificent vestments. But who in those times thought of extending a helping hand to a priest in need?
Princess Helen Hospital, where Fr. Constantin served in the basement. Photo: Reddit
And yet, at the same time, people had such a thirst for a kind word that would reach their hearts that the valiant workers of the Vergu neighborhood and the surrounding area soon filled the basement, and those who couldn’t fit listened through the windows, standing outside, so they had to open a corridor next to it as well.
“And this despite all the hostile propaganda that my neighbors and colleagues conducted among the faithful, telling them it’s not a church but a wine cellar, that there are toilets there, and upstairs a school for little children, and so on. But the people didn’t listen to them.”
The venerable servant of the altar labored in the church-cellar for seven years, not only offering prayers, but also works of mercy, helping those in need who couldn’t make ends meet.
I noticed that people steal and kill because, among other things, they’re in need. Therefore, together with my preaching work, I launched Samaritan work, helping the needy, comforting and encouraging the sorrowful, and giving work to the unemployed. And the truth is the truth: None of those whom I recommended for work embarrassed me. The result was that thefts and crimes decreased, and those who previously, according to Dr. Gomoiu, broke the windows at the hospital, now bow as they pass by the little church there.
Fr. Constantin’s burning desire was to build a spacious church for the spiritual needs of his flock, but he didn’t know “how many dark forces would descend upon him for the piece of land needed for the construction.” Two wealthy landowners laid claim to the plot, intending to build stores there, as well as the Royal House, which wanted to build a church for its hospitals.
After five years of litigation, humiliation, and dozens of complaints filed in various instances, when it seemed all hope was lost, On January 1, 1943, after the personal intervention of Patriarch Nicodim and the head of state, Fr. Constantin received the necessary permission to build the monumental Church of Sts. Constantine and Helen.
His wife had passed away two years earlier, leaving him with two daughters, five and two. But even in this situation, Fr. Constantin, as a parent, showed himself to be a model of sacrificial love:
“I took care of the housework as I could. I tried to be happy so the children wouldn’t feel like they didn’t have a mother, like I did when I was an orphan! My only refuge was the altar. Only there could I pray, cry; only there could I gather strength.”
Vergu Church, Bucharest. Photo: lovinromania.com
Joy and sufferings. Consecration of the Vergu Church
Woe where people labor without light!
Happiness is only there, were Truth creates Love.
The foundation stone of the Vergu Church was laid in 1943, and Fr. Constantin offered a brief presentation of the project in a word of thanks to the authorities:
The church should be not only a place to worship God, where the priest serves: It should be a pillar around which all the Christian-social activities of society revolve. Upstairs, beneath the magnificent iconostasis will be the temple of faith. And downstairs, we hope in time to open an orphanage for girls and a dining hall for the disabled and elderly, upon whom the flame of this altar will pour out its consoling light.
The church was finished and consecrated in 1949 by the retired Metropolitan Nifon of Oltenia.
Meanwhile, the famine of 1947 was running rampant in Moldavia. Fr. Constantin organized a collection of food and clothing among his parishioners and delivered them in two wagons to the starving villages of Dancu and Cârlig near Iași, a charitable act for which the Metropolis of Moldavia would thank him in writing, and the Romanian Patriarchate would award him the stavrophore econome cross.
After much toil and sweat, hardship, and bitter tears, on Palm Sunday in 1948, after ten years of serving in basements and cellars, the Vergu Church was consecrated in the presence of 5,000 faithful. The choir of the new church consisted of eighty volunteer singers. The church included a conference hall for 2,000 people, a bell tower, a clergy house, a dining room for the elderly in need, a library of spiritual literature, and a shelter.
Vergu Church parishioners today. Photo: parohiaparculcalarasi.ro
Tears and grace during his years of imprisonment
You can torture me as much as you want,
but I won’t renounce Christ!
Soon, his exuberant pastoral-missionary work in the Vergu Church attracted the attention of the Securitate (security agencies). As the number of parishioners grew steadily along with the spread of the news that a cross had appeared on one of the church windows, they began to monitor Fr. Constantin more closely, and on June 15–21, 1949, he was detained for interrogation. He was released for lack of evidence, but the surveillance continued.
Ruins of the Ostrov Prison on Great Brăila Island. Photo: lh3.googleusercontent.com
On January 12, 1954, he was arrested again on charges of “conspiracy against public order,” and on October 9, 1954, by verdict No. 2168 of the Bucharest Military Tribunal, he was convicted along with twenty-three other defendants of participating in the Saviors of the Nation resistance movement, though he had no connection with it whatsoever, and for the crime of “possession of and failure to surrender foreign currency to the Romanian People’s Republic.”
Gates of Jilava Prison. Photo: fericiticeiprigoniti.net/jilava He would wear the garment of suffering in the prisons of Jilava (1954–1955), Dej (1955), Gherla (1956–1962), in the forced labor camps at Poarta Albă (1955–1956) and on Brăila Island, at the Salcia unit (1959). There, in the Danube Delta, laboring at reed harvesting, he became a pillar and soul for the prisoners. On days when they weren’t taken out to work, he would serve the Divine Liturgy. When there was a piece of bread, he would break it into crumbs, consecrate it, bless it, and distribute it to everyone.
He was mercilessly tortured and starved, which caused a duodenal ulcer to develop, but he remained steadfast in his confession of the Christian faith until his release:
“They burned my feet with a red-hot iron, tore out my beard, beat me, but I told them: ‘You can torture me as much as you want, but I won’t renounce Christ!’”
Although his term of imprisonment ended on January 8, 1962, by decision No. 16.333 of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, he was exiled to “forced residence” in the village of Vâișoara1 near the village of Mărculeşti in Slobozia County for a term of twenty-four months, during which he served in the village church. And there, at the edge of the earth, boundless love for his neighbor and self-sacrifice remained the inner core of Fr. Constantin Sârbu.
A cleric of Sapienței Church after his release. Martyrdom
Truly faithful is he who, doing good, doesn’t compare himself with others,
but with his Teacher, because he who compares himself with others will always be proud,
but he who compares himself with the Lord will always find a measure for humility.
After his release on February 25, 1964, Fr. Constantin submitted a petition for Patriarch Iustinian to assign him to a parish, harboring no illusions that he would return to his church in the Vergu neighborhood, to which he had grown deeply attached.
The conversation that took place with the primate of the Romanian Orthodox Church became legendary:
“Well, what can I give you, Sârbu?”
“The poorest church in Bucharest, Your Beatitude!”
“Yes, I know,” the Patriarch said, “that whatever church I give you, you’ll turn it into a garden!”
Sapienței Church, 1710. Photo: protoieria1.ro
And that’s what happened. He received the keys to the Sapienței Church, which was under lock and key for forty years in a dilapidated state. He would go on to restore the church and serve Liturgy there for the rest of his life.
Daniila Șonțică recalls:
He became the church’s second founder, restoring it and adding a narthex, but his most invaluable work was the creation of a religious community where brotherly love reigned. He carefully nurtured every soul that came to the church. The dozens of testimonies from people who knew him are remarkable—miracles at every turn, incidents proving that Fr. Constantin was truly one of God’s chosen ones.
He completely devoted himself to the mission of being a guide on the path of salvation in times of such danger for the faithful. The Securitate monitored him and gave him no peace even after he was released. They offered him collaboration, but he firmly refused. They sent people to him for Confession to try to extract his secrets, but he resisted with his whole being.
In 1975, it was impressed upon him that it would be good to have an operation and he was recommended a surgeon. He understood that he was being called to fulfill his final duty. He put everything in order at the church and allowed himself to be “treated.” The operation indeed proved fatal. After the operation, the surgeon went to his room and asked in surprise:
“What, you’re not dead yet?”
Fr. Ilarion (Argatu) from Antim Monastery rushed over immediately to hear his Confession and give him Communion. And then something occurred that can only be called a miracle. Fr. Ilarion thought the pillowcase was colored when he placed his hand near Fr. Constantin’s head, but then suddenly realized it was a halo! He told the faithful from Sapienței about the miracle, and though filled with sorrow at their priest’s passing, they rejoiced that God had shown them a sign of his righteousness.
Fr. Constantin and parishioners. Photo: ziarullumina.ro
Octavia Tăslăoanu recalls:
A few days before his hospitalization, one of his spiritual daughters presented him with flowers and an ornate greeting on parchment on behalf of the faithful. He was deeply moved and said to me:
“You see, they gave me a charter, like a king! But what have I done for you all to deserve such love and gratitude?”
Fr. Constantin’s grave in the courtyard of the Sapienței Church. The inscription on the cross reads: “He died in the hope of the resurrection and life eternal.” Photo: fericiticeliprigoniti.net On October 23, 1975, at 3:00 PM, Fr. Constantin departed this world. On his last night on earth, he suffered a 102–104 fever. He kept asking for, “water, cold water,” and then said to me:
“Soon I’ll fly away. That’s how it was appointed for me. Don’t grieve and don’t judge anyone, for nothing happens by chance; everything’s arranged with great wisdom. I love you all very much. With you and through you, I have brought the work of God entrusted to me to a good end. Pray for me! I very much need your sincere and deep prayer! I will always be with you. Call on me! Don’t forget that prayer is everything, and prayer in church is even more important!”
Father’s martyred body was reverently transferred to the Sapienței Church and then buried in the church yard. Year after year, on the feast of the Holy Equal-to-the-Apostles Constantine and Helen, Father’s name’s day, and also October 23, the day of his repose, the faithful who shared both sorrow and joy with him serve panikhidas at his grave.
And on October 18, 2023, forty-eight years after his burial, his body was uncovered and brought into the light of day and began to spread the fragrance of sanctity all around, as testified by Fr. Marin Cojoc, the current rector of the Sapienței Church:
The incorrupt relics of St. Constantin. Photo: atitudini.com “We were soaring in this fragrance. It was something divine. We all wept with joy, holy joy… The workers fell to their knees at the grave and prostrated themselves, because they’d never seen anything like it. When we fully uncovered him, we discovered that no decay had touched his heart that had unceasingly prayed the Jesus Prayer!”
In 2024, the Holy Synod of the Romanian Orthodox Church inscribed the name of the Hieroconfessor and martyr Constantin Sârbu in the Church calendar, establishing his feast as October 23, together with St. James, the Brother of the Lord, also a great martyr, thrown from the wing of the Jerusalem Temple and stoned for his faith in Christ.
And the ground at the Sapienței Church still smells like Heaven…
