And where are we?

Priest Andrei Mizyuk - about the Russian priesthood in the trenches and wards

Six years ago, a coronavirus pandemic was declared in the world. Horrible images from China and Italy were terrifying, store shelves were emptying, cereals and, for some reason, toilet paper were being furiously swept away. From the heights of these days, you look at all this not so much with nostalgia, but as something no longer super-terrible.

Although I must say that it was precisely that time that gave, oddly enough, a little hope, as if the world had found, albeit sad, an opportunity to unite. To reconsider and rethink all the difficulties and tensions, both against the backdrop of an invisible terrible threat, and despite the actual strict quarantine, to meet each other halfway.

There was no oncoming movement and understanding of the value of human life. On the contrary, a much worse disaster came.

And here a rethink happened. But with a minus sign. In the opposite direction from truth, mercy and sanity.

I was prompted to these memories by tragic news from Russia, from the places where I once served. I can’t talk about it in detail - people dear to me could suffer, but a heavy foreboding did not leave me from the very beginning. From the day it all began.

It was not possible to live by a lie. This is a terrible reality for the Russian Orthodox Church today. It would seem that there are obvious and extremely clear truths. Bloodshed that destroys everything in its path is disgusting and terrible. The reasons and reasons, of course, were explained beautifully and in detail. But ask yourself: who are you? Even if they give you at least a hundred and fifty reasons, return to this question.

I will not talk or discuss the logic of the military, everything is clear here. Let's go back to the church. Was there really no one there to ask himself this simple question? Ask yourself this question and raise your voice. Here, first of all, I am talking about those who have the right and duty to speak on behalf of the church. But there was silence, then an indistinct prayer “for Holy Rus'” in the first edition, and a little later the so-called prayer for victory.

And then the priests followed the army. Those who, apparently, themselves sincerely believed in the idea of ​​​​a “holy war”. Since the patriarch called her such, what doubts can there be?

However, it is worth noting that long before that, a considerable number of the clergy of the Russian Orthodox Church sincerely believed in the “special role and exclusivity of the God-protected Fatherland,” which, if it undertakes anything, will do everything correctly and with the blessing of God. Why doubt it?

Therefore, many went there sincerely and at the behest of their hearts. But, Lord, how can you believe that what is happening is right? I don't know, I can't answer this question. More precisely, I answered. Since leaving the country in 2022, I no longer consider myself part of this institution, I do not agree with its ideology, which echoes state propaganda, I do not accept any justifications and excuses that can be made today and will be made later.

When someone later says that we were forced, we were forced, and so on, then the words of the patriarch about the “holy war” and the aggressive sermons of the episcopate and the clergy will certainly emerge in the online memory.

How can you forget the reasoning of one priest, who quite sincerely, speaking about the hostilities, said to Ukrainian civilians: “We came to liberate not you, but from you.”

Ruined desert. Man-made.

Answer yourself: into what emptiness are you sending the cry “Peace to all” when performing liturgies, especially in front-line conditions? Who needs this “peace” when you yourself are not in the world and not with the world?

Why did I remember about the pandemic? In July 2020, I first crossed the threshold of the “red zone” in the Covid hospital. I went with communion to a friend of mine, a doctor dying of pneumonia, who herself treated and died from this disease. There were hours left. And by hook or by crook, we still managed to get permission to enter the ward.

And yes, I was scared, I had a good idea of ​​the possible consequences, taking into account my chronic illnesses, but it was impossible not to go. The summer of 2020 was terrible in terms of the number of deaths, especially in that very hospital. But the job was done. And I came. And the man made his last confession and accepted the Holy Gifts, and we never saw each other again, since she died the next day.

And then for another year and a half I did not leave these hospitals. Not because I was sick myself, but because there were people there who were in trouble and who needed hand in hand in a terrible intensive care unit, who took Communion in an almost fading consciousness, fearing and crying. But hand in hand, in a weakening and unclenching hand, and these last minutes for them, God, I hope, were not so difficult and terrible. I remember many of them very, very well. And words, and eyes, and requests, and prayers.

Listen, I don’t want to talk about how good and right I did. I did very little - what I could. But we, as priests, are called to be with those who suffer and with those who are in trouble. Yes, we must find the strength to pray for those who commit lawlessness. But who should we be with first? With all your soul and life, with all your calling?

And where are we?

In February 2021, I was suddenly awarded the Patriarchal Gratitude medal for my participation in the fight against coronavirus infection.

Your Holiness! There is no need for gratitude, I return the medal and leave it in one of the Yerevan parishes of the Russian Orthodox Church. With documents. Previously it was not possible, but now there is a desire and need to return. Because I can’t do it any other way.