KNOCKIN 'ON HEAVEN

SEPARATE CONVERSATION

It was generally accepted that there was no cross on the Chekists. Well, in the sense that they do not believe in God, they have nothing to ask him. But it turned out that for some time now the KGBists still have God. They have a church in which they pray and which is carefully ...

It was generally accepted that there was no cross on the Chekists. Well, in the sense that they do not believe in God, they have nothing to ask him. But it turned out that for some time now the KGBists still have God.

They have a church in which they pray and which is carefully guarded. It is called beautifully - the temple of Sophia the Wisdom. Everything is as it should be: security cameras, people in uniform and in civilian clothes. Moreover, the temple itself is located on Lubyanka. And earlier he was a checkpoint of the 5th department of the KGB. At least three people serve in it: the priest, his assistant and the grandmother in the household.

Officially, the temple of Sophia Wisdom is open to everyone.

I ran out of the "Children's World" to smoke. And I hear singing from the side of Cannon Street. Such beautiful church singing. And there really is a church. People with serious faces come out of it in groups, go to parked cars and quickly leave.

“Church service for the FSB,” the guard explained to me and stared at my blinking gnome hat.

The guard said that security officers come here to sing and pray every week. Nosebleed, I should have seen it.

I went to the temple the next day in the evening. But it was closed. I stood and read what was written on it. Not to say that I read for a long time. 15 minutes. And there were cameras everywhere, pointing straight at me. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that someone was running behind me. It turned out - a traffic cop and a man in civilian clothes.

"Hey man, what do you want here?" asked the traffic cop, straightening his disheveled hair.

And then he introduced himself. I had nothing but an editorial certificate, and he fiddled with it for a long time. Then he gave it to a civilian to look at. The civilian frowned, nodded to him, and returned the document to me. The traffic cop was obviously dissatisfied with something and advised not to go more without a passport so late (it was 19.30).

The next day I came back. There was a woman with a little boy in the church. The boy tugged at her sleeve and asked: “Ma, who is that over there with the beard?” The mother did not answer her son's questions.

Besides them, there was another guy in the church. His name was Maxim, and, as I understand it, he worked as an assistant to the priest. Soon the Holy Father himself appeared. Small in stature, it was clear that he was a sambo wrestler.

“Maxim, get some water,” the priest said to Maxim very quickly.

“I didn’t understand the task, Your Holiness!

- Deaf, right?

- No way!

Get some water, he said! - His Holiness threw the "Alaska" over the cassock, took the diplomat and, displeased, disappeared behind the door.

Gee. It seemed that he was in the GB at least from the institute. Maxim, it seems, was still studying. But there was no longer any doubt that both comrades were “from there”.

I told Maxim that I wanted to write an article about the temple, about the protection of monuments of Moscow antiquity and post it on the site. Maxim looked around, scratched his beard and whispered:

- You know, it's good, of course. But in order to write, you also need the permission of the patriarchate and ... (he gestured towards the Lubyanka), do you understand?

- I don't understand.

- Well, our church is departmental (very quietly), FSB. Why are you in trouble?

- Well, I thought...

- Thinking is bad. And in general, it’s better for you not to appear here anymore, - Maxim made a face, as if talking to himself, took the canister and left.

Max's hint was clear. What now - do not go? Well, God also loves the trinity ... In general, the next day I came up with an excuse for myself.

Neither father nor Maxim was gone. But there were two men dressed in black and with diplomats. One of them stood next to an elderly woman behind a church stall where icons, incense, and the like were on sale. A man bought a candle, 3 rubles 50 kopecks apiece. Paid with a 500-ruble bill. Didn't take change. The grandmother didn’t talk about the money for a long time, put it under the table and continued to fiddle behind her counter.

- Grandmother, when will the rector father Alexander come? I asked, waiting for the man to leave.

- Oh I do not know. He’s already building a second church,” the old woman wailed.

“The FSB is probably helping,” I suggested.

Yes, they do help. How could it be without them? - At the mention of the FSB, the grandmother fussed even more and began to chew her tongue.

- Do people often come to you for 500 rubles to buy candles? - Without my participation, the language suddenly led into a prosecutor's tone.

“…Why are you asking some strange questions, my dear?” I would go where I came from ... - The old woman somehow abnormally shook, and I decided that enough was enough ...

At the exit, a traffic cop (another) was waiting for me.

“They explained to you in Russian, you asshole, not to come here! ..

And that was the most polite thing he'd ever said. Then he turned around and walked through the church into the courtyard of the FSB.

P.S.

Everyone has a patron saint. Even Internet programmers have it (Isidore of Seville). To find out if the Russian special services have a heavenly patron, we contacted the department of the Moscow Patriarchate for relations with law enforcement agencies. We were told that the patron of the FSB is Alexander Nevsky. And the Chekists, according to Orthodox canons, should sing this prayer to him:

Prayer to the Holy Prince Alexander Nevsky

Grand Duke Alexandra! You, having defeated the regiments of adversaries, and overthrow all visible and invisible enemies who are taking up arms against us. You, leaving the perishable crown of the kingdom of the earth, have chosen a silent life, and now you are righteously crowned with an incorruptible crown, intercede for us, we humbly pray to you, a quiet and serene life and to the eternal Kingdom, arrange for us a steady procession through your intercession! <…> Amen.