Transl. from Russian
ROCOR Archbishop Ioasaph canonized in GOC of Greece
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According to the website of the GOC of Greece, on July 8/21, 2024, in Edmonton, in the "Russian-Greek" parish of St. Prince Vladimir, founded by Archbishop Ioasaph in the 1930s, the hierarchs of the GOC of Greece, the Most Reverend Metropolitans Demetrios of America and Moses of Toronto, as well as Bishop Auxentios of Etna and Portland and Bishop Benedict of Astoria, led the celebrations for the glorification of Archbishop Ioasaph (Skorodumov) of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside of Russia.
We publish the biography of the saint, compiled by the ROCOR Bishop Alexander (Mileant).
Archbishop Ioasaph (Skorodumov, 1888-1955)
Bishop Archbishop Ioasaph was born in the village of Rebovichi, Tikhvin district, Novgorod province, on January 14/26, 1888, and received the name of St. John at holy baptism. His parents were the priest of this village, Fr. Vasily Skorodumov, and Theodosia Mikhailovna, nee Kachalova. He was three hours older than his twin sister. As children of fields and forests, they were given names of wild flowers - "Ivan and Marya." He also had two brothers: the first - three years older, who died in 1942 during the German blockade of Petrograd, and the second - two years younger, who died as a twelve-year-old boy. Only his sister Maria, who lives in Petrograd, survived. The family lost their mother when the twins were five years old, and gradually all the household chores and care for the family fell on little Maria. The family of a modest villager lived in the beautiful Russian northern nature, near a lake and a forest. They were very friendly, everyone loved each other, the children idolized their father, who was very happy with them. Little Vanyusha was everyone's favorite. He was a very lively child, sometimes he liked to play pranks, but he was obedient and helpful. From early childhood, he was very religious and tried to attend every service, serving in the church. In addition to brotherly love, he and his older brother were also connected by bonds of friendship and camaraderie. For Vanyusha, his older brother was a great authority, a groom and an inspirer of children's games and amusements. In the summer, during the holidays, they went to the forest together for mushrooms and berries, fishing, often disappearing for whole days at the lake. "We would catch a full bag of fish," Vladyka recalled, "and head home, pleased with our rich catch. On the way, one of us would suddenly get the idea to carry the fish all the way home without changing our shoulders. And it was still three or four miles to go home. At first, nothing. But then, the further we walked, the more and more strongly the thin string thrown over our shoulders began to cut into our bodies, causing severe pain. Then it became completely unbearable, but we endured and did not want to give in at all. And when we finally returned home, we ourselves were no longer able to take our burdens off our shoulders. My sister took them off. On our shoulders, the string left a deep, almost blood-red stripe. Father came and, having learned of our new idea, only smiled and shook his head reproachfully: "... you are fools, fools!" ... And on our In the language it was called a "feat." "Or here's another case. In winter, during the Christmas vacancies, having run and skated or sledded to our heart's content the whole day, late in the evening we would lie in warm beds and not sleep for a long time, talking about something in whispers. And suddenly, one of us would get an unexpected idea: just like that, barefoot in just our nightgowns, in the frost, in the snow, quickly run a hundred steps there and back... But we did it in such a way that neither my sister nor my father would know," laughs the Bishop, "otherwise we would have gotten into serious trouble for such a "feat"...
Years of study.When Vanyusha turned 10, Fr. Vasily Skorodumov went with his son to the Theological School in the city of Tikhvin. The boy brilliantly passed the entrance exams to this school and graduated in 1902, receiving the right to enter the Theological Seminary. In this already higher theological school, located in Veliky Novgorod, the young man shows excellent progress, graduates in 1908 with first class honors with the title of seminary student, and its administration, as one of the best students, sends him to the St. Petersburg Theological Academy at the state expense. Having passed the competitive exams, Ivan Skorodumov becomes a student of the Theological Academy in 1908.
The secular life of the capital does not interest the young man, and he devotes himself to the study of theological subjects and church life, an inclination to which he showed already in the Seminary. Ivan Skorodumov was a richly gifted young man. Apparently, it was hereditary. According to family legend, one of his ancestors, upon entering the Theological School, received the surname Skorodumov for correct and lively answers at the entrance exam, instead of the usual surnames among the clergy based on the names of church holidays, the parish church, precious stones or flowers. Already from his first year, we see Ivan Skorodumov as the director of the Academic Student Choir. After all, the cream of all the Seminaries of the Russian Empire was sent to the Theological Academy of the capital every year. It can be assumed that he had some influence on his comrades. This is evident at least from the incident told by the Bishop already during his stay in Argentina, when at dinner in his presence one of the young people was attacked by a "laugher." The Bishop himself laughed and, shaking his head, said: "It happened to us too... Sometimes it's just temptation! I remember, we, students of the Academy, are preparing for communion, reading the rule; suddenly the reader stumbles, "stumbles" on some word... It turned out so funny that we can't help laughing. We change readers, there is silence for a few seconds, then the "laugher" attacks again. Another one starts reading - the same thing happens. And we are getting ready to fast! My turn comes. I read. At first everything is quiet. Then I hear it - it begins. I turn to them, and shout: - Stop! ... and everything passed. That's when we learned from experience what temptation is.
The revolutionary unrest in 1905-1908 captured some Theological Seminaries and even penetrated the Academy. "Once, on the occasion of some 'revolutionary date,'" Vladyka once recalled, "the students decided to go on strike and did not go to class. As always, I went to class. Several students blocked my way. "Where to? Today is 'Labor Day.' You don't dare go to class.
"You say "labor day." So I'm going to work," I objected and headed for the exit. They tried to hold me back by force. At this point I couldn't stand it any longer and, rolling up my sleeves, challenged them: "Who's first? Come on!"
Seeing that I was not joking and knowing my physical strength, my opponents retreated. I showed up for class alone.
The professor comes in and asks: - Are you alone? Where are those rams?
“But I’m not a shepherd for these sheep,” I answer.
"Read the prayer," says the professor. He read it. The professor looked and thought, "What's the point of dealing with him alone?" He shook his head, "Read the prayer after the lesson." "I read that too. Now go to your room." "That was the end of it.
At the Academy, student Skorodumov studied all sciences with great interest, but especially loved to read the works of the Holy Fathers and absorbed their teachings, advice, and instructions with his lively, impressionable, and receptive mind. He was especially delighted with the works of Saint John Chrysostom: his spirit, his style were in tune with the soul of the student. In connection with this, he had a funny incident. A member of the examination committee, who read his written work, indignantly showed it to the Rector, Bishop Theophan, saying that this student simply "copied" John Chrysostom.
Who, Skorodumov? That can't be! This one wouldn't do that! - objected the Rector, who knew his gifted and beloved student well and guessed that Skorodumov had so mastered the writings of the Saint he revered that he had involuntarily begun to imitate him.
Archbishop Theodosius of Brazil, recalling Bishop Ioasaph, says that he was one year below the Bishop at the St. Petersburg Theological Academy, and therefore they were not very close at that time. But he remembers that Bishop Ioasaph, being under the great influence of the Rector of the Academy Bishop Theophan, later of Poltava, and under the guidance of the Associate Professor of the Academy Hieromonk Veniamin, later Metropolitan, actively participated and seriously worked in the Zlatoust Circle created by Fr. Veniamin, which studied the works of St. John Chrysostom, as well as in the philosophical circle.
Being in the fourth, final year, Ivan Skorodumov wrote a scientific work on the topic: "Monasticism according to St. John Chrysostom," for which he was awarded a first-degree diploma - the title of candidate of Theology upon graduating from the Academy in 1912. Frequent conversations of the young student with Bishop Theophan, who was noted for his merits even in the highest spheres, already in the Theological Academy determined for the student Skorodumov the path along which he was to build his life and work.
The tonsure and first steps of the young monk.
And so, in the autumn of 1912, a young candidate of Theology, Ivan Vasilyevich Skorodumov, from the Novgorod province made his way to the Volga, to Rybinsk, and from there by water to Astrakhan, where he had never been before, to see Bishop Theophan, who occupied the episcopal see there at the time, in order to receive monastic tonsure from him. Skorodumov had extremely limited funds for the journey he was undertaking, but his ticket had been paid for. And when, going to bed on the last night before the ship's arrival in Astrakhan, he counted his "capital," he found that he had only a few dozen kopecks. That night he slept restlessly, dreaming that he had just enough money and that in Astrakhan he had a long ride in a cab to the Bishop's Metochion, where, in order to see Bishop Theophan, he had to walk across the courtyard and along long, semi-dark corridors...
When in the morning, having arrived in Astrakhan, he got off the steamer and went to hire a cab to the farmstead, the cabman asked him for the exact amount that was left in his pocket. And already in reality he was driving along the same streets, walking along the same courtyard and corridors of the farmstead that he had seen in his dream on the steamer...
The monastic tonsure was performed by Bishop Theophan on the day of remembrance of the young student's heavenly teacher, St. John Chrysostom, November 13 (26), 1912. The young monk was named in honor of the recently glorified St. Ioasaph of Belgorod, who was born in 1911. And already on November 18 (December 1) of the same year, 1912, the new monk was ordained to the rank of hierodeacon, and three days later to the rank of hieromonk. Soon, Fr. Ioasaph was appointed by the Educational Committee of the Holy Synod to the position of assistant to the superintendent of the Theological School in Yaransk, Vyatka Province, and on December 17 (30), 1913, he was transferred to the same position at the Theological School in Poltava, where the Episcopal See was occupied at that time by Bishop Theophan.
There are some recollections about the life of the young Hieromonk in Poltava. Already in Argentina, the Lord brought a lady, who lived in Poltava at the time described, to meet and talk with Vladyka Ioasaph. They recalled Poltava, the beautiful large Cathedral in which Vladyka Theophan served. When the interlocutor mentioned that she remembered Vladyka Theophan well and saw how he was often sick and weak, could not deliver his own sermons and that they were read by a young monk who always stood next to the Vladyka, then Archbishop Ioasaph became very animated and joyfully exclaimed: "So that was me!" Yes, he accompanied his Abba everywhere as long as it was possible, with his heroic strength he helped the feeble bishop and devotedly served him in everything.
Archbishop Theodosius, from the words of V. A. Konovalov (later Archimandrite Ambrose), tells of his first meeting with Hieromonk Ioasaph, which took place in the house of General Burman in Poltava. V. A. Konovalov, then an officer in the Russian army, was distinguished by his deep faith and commitment to the Church of Christ. Knowing this, General Burman decided to introduce him to Hieromonk Ioasaph, who had made a strong impression on her during his sermon in the Cathedral. She invited both of them to her place for a cup of tea. Konovalov was the first to arrive and inquired who this Hieromonk was, with whom the General wanted to introduce him. And when she answered that he usually preached sermons instead of Bishop Theophan and that he graduated from the Theological Academy in St. Petersburg, V. A. Konovalov replied that he had heard his sermons and immediately saw that the preacher was theologically well educated and had an excellent command of the Russian literary language. After their acquaintance and a long conversation, V. A. was convinced that Hieromonk Ioasaph was not only educated, but also spiritually educated and a good preacher, capable of influencing people's souls. This meeting made a great impression on him and, perhaps, led in the future to the missionary path and the adoption of monasticism.
Recalling the preaching abilities of Archbishop Ioasaph, Fr. Ambrose tells that when the Volunteers occupied Poltava and found the executed Hieromonk Nil, the treasurer of the Lubensk Monastery, and brought his body to the monastery, then, on the instructions of Bishop Theophan, he was met by Hieromonk Ioasaph, who after the funeral service said such a powerful word that it shook those present.
In the essay “The Young Elder,” included in the collection “The Orthodox Path,” there are recollections of the Poltava period of the life of Bishop Ioasaph, connected with the meeting with V. Z., who later became a priest. The words of the Bishop himself are quoted: “The Most Reverend Theophan advised V. Z. to live with me, although he gave him the opportunity to live in the bishop’s house. I readily agreed, and so we lived with him in the hospital building of our Poltava Theological School, attending services in the bishop’s house every day. We lived in one room, he was like my cell attendant, my cohabitant, my brother. There were Bolsheviks all around, they occupied the entire house, with the exception of our room. We passed by the Bolsheviks, they saw us and certainly did not see us. No one asked about anything, either me or him, which we were extremely surprised at and attributed to the mercy of God. But in the end we were forced to leave this premises. I settled in the bishop’s house together with other hieromonks, and he, “Zinovievich,” as he was usually called, lived in the carriage house and lived between the carriages, because they began to search the bishop's house and, on someone's denunciation, they were looking for the hidden Red Army soldier. And so, in order "not to let them down," Zinovievich, who was being sought, lived between the carriages. They brought him food there. However, he sometimes left there for the Divine Service, etc. And so it continued until the Volunteers entered Poltava, that is, for about 2-3 months.
In the article "Archbishop Theophan," published in 1953 in the magazine "Orthodox Word," Bishop Ioasaph recalls: "The revolution found Archbishop Theophan in Poltava. The Ukrainians arrested him because he refused to pray for the self-proclaimed "directory." The Bolsheviks also tried to arrest him, but God protected him. They entered his office, but did not notice him, although he was sitting at his desk: "seeing, did not see" ... (This obviously refers to the same period, which is mentioned above in the memoirs about "Zinovevich").
In this article, Bishop Ioasaph writes that Bishop Theophan, together with the Volunteer Army, evacuated to Taganrog, where the Synod Abroad was at that time. Apparently, Hieromonk Ioasaph also left at the same time with his Abba, together with the White Army. It must be assumed that this happened at the beginning of 1920. On December 9 (22), 1919, Bishop Ioasaph was appointed Superintendent of the Lubny Theological School, and on April 19 (May 2), 1920, he was elevated to the rank of Archimandrite already in Crimea.
Bishop Archbishop Theodosius recalls that in 1920, having arrived from Kursk province as the abbot of the Kherson monastery, he met with Archimandrite Ioasaph in the city of Sevastopol. Bishop Veniamin was the Abbot of the Kherson monastery at that time and also held the position of the Administrator of the military and naval clergy. He created a cadre of 12 preachers for the White Army front, including Archimandrite Ioasaph, who lived in the Kherson monastery until General Wrangel's evacuation to Constantinople. The above-mentioned V. Z. also arrived at the Kherson monastery and began to accompany Archimandrite Ioasaph as a psalm-reader. They toured the forward positions where the Volunteers were located, first in Crimea, then in the Tauride province, all the way to the village of Aleshki on the Dnieper. It used to be that the Cathedral prayer service was being held on the parade ground, where many military units had gathered. - "Well, who will say a word?" - "Let Fr. Ioasaph say it," the presiding officer decided. And the young Archimandrite spoke fervently, convincingly, encouraging the soldiers going to fight the persecutors of the Church and the traitors of the Motherland, he spoke in a sonorous, strong voice, so that even the last rows could hear everything clearly.
He had a mighty voice, he had mighty strength! Here is an example of this. Under the Commander-in-Chief General Wrangel, during the last evacuation of the White Army, Archimandrite Ioasaph was leaving Crimea together with a group of Bishops. He was left alone at the pier to guard all the luggage. Suddenly they informed him that they had to immediately load onto a steamer. “I wonder what I should do?” says Bishop Ioasaph. “It’s dangerous to leave some of the luggage, they’ll steal it.” Without thinking twice, he decided to carry it all at once. And there were 8 suitcases! And also the bishop’s suitcases with books and vestments… He hoisted two suitcases, tied with belts, onto each shoulder and took two in each hand. That’s how he dragged them to the loading area. God helped!
My Bishops came and asked: - "Where is the luggage?" - "It's already loaded." - "Who carried it?" - Yes, I did. - And who helped? They threw up their hands when they found out how it all happened... That was the strength they had, not like now!... The Bishop told his story sadly. Archimandrite Ioasaph left Russia on one of the last steamships leaving for the unknown, and began the long emigration stage of his life.
In the "Curriculum Vitae" of Archbishop Ioasaph we see that from December 1, 1920 to February 1921 he served military hospitals in Constantinople by appointment of the Bishop of the Army, the Most Reverend Benjamin. There is almost no information about the life and work of Archbishop Ioasaph in Constantinople, except for a few scanty memoirs and data from the "Curriculum Vitae" of the Bishop.
Archbishop Theodosius recalls that he and the Archimandrites Fr. Ioasaph and Fr. Simon, who lived with him in the Kherson Monastery, evacuated together to Constantinople. There, both Archimandrites were found by V. A. Konovalov, later Archimandrite Ambrose, whom we have already mentioned, and he arranged for them to live in hostel No. 8 in Istanbul, where they lived in the room of V. A., who was then assistant to the commandant of this hostel. They lived there until all three Archimandrites left together with Metropolitan Anthony for Yugoslavia.
Bishop Ioasaph stayed in the Vratna Monastery (Serbia) as a brother and spiritual father in 1921-1922. He was appointed by the Synod Abroad to the post of Rector of the Orthodox Community and a religious teacher at the gymnasium in Erceg Novi (Dalmatia - Serbia) on February 13, 1922. He held the post of director of the same gymnasium, a religious teacher and a teacher of history and geography from 1924 to May 1925. He was a religious teacher at the Emperor Alexander III Don Cadet Corps in Bileče and Gorazde (Serbia) from June 1925 to September 1, 1929.
According to the recollections of Archbishop Theodosius, all three, then still Archimandrites - he, Fr. Ioasaph and Fr. Simon, having arrived in Yugoslavia, received the Vratna monastery from Bishop Ireneus. - "In 1921, there were no monks in the monastery," says Archbishop Theodosius. "For spiritual care, we were given one village adjacent to the monastery, speaking Romanian, and then an entire parish, 16 km away from our monastery. We had to establish a statutory Divine Service and all three of us had to fulfill all the duties related to the inhabitants of the monastery, because apart from us, there was no one else in the monastery. There was one watchman. We served ourselves, served ourselves, and prepared our own food. Later, a family man came to us and lived as a laborer. Our life together did not last long: Fr. Simon received a position in a parish called Rayac; I went as an abbot to the Monastery of the Holy Mother of God in Macedonia, not far from the city of Prilep, and Fr. Ioasaph left as a teacher."
Grammar school in Herzegovina.
An excerpt from a letter from a teacher who worked with Bishop Ioasaph at the Russian gymnasium in the city of Erceg Novi, in Dalmatia (Katar Bay).
— "Our steamships sailed from Sevastopol and stopped in Erceg Novi, in Dalmatia. What a paradise this little town seemed to us, located at the very entrance to the Qatar Bay. After the dirty dark holds — palm trees, lemons, oranges and roses, roses everywhere... The people were friendly, many spoke Russian... Our first concern was the children: the children needed to study in Russian. We collected the textbooks and opened a school. There was poverty in everything — in the premises and in the teaching aids. But we were rich in cheerfulness and hope. There was joy that we had escaped safely from the Bolshevik hell and that the main troubles were over. And then into this environment of poverty and wealth a new blessed force flowed. When the school opened, we had a catechist for a short time, but he soon left. We were left without a priest... We grieved... But the Lord did not abandon us — Bishop Theophan arrived, and with him Archimandrite Ioasaph, who became the religious teacher of our school, which soon expanded into an eight-grade gymnasium. So, one truly beautiful day, a modest, quiet priest came to us and immediately illuminated us with the light of his extraordinary blue eyes. Such eyes are rare, there is no sparkle or tenderness in them, but there is light - a quiet evening light. It was with this light that Fr. Ioasaph illuminated us during his stay with us. Whether the children were naughty, or we, the teachers, argued, Fr. Ioasaph would come, bless, and everything would pass, and peace and quiet would come again. Fr. Ioasaph was short, thin, with an amazingly beautiful, icon-like face, not even a face, but a visage. Fr. Ioasaph lived poorly, like all of us. But we soon learned that he was poorer than all of us. It happened like this: I saw that his duckweed was old and not the freshest, and Tanya B. and I dared to ask Fr. Ioasaph to let us wash it, saying that it would dry overnight. And he answered us in his okanny northern accent: "And what will I cover myself with at night, because the nights are cold"...
Our faces must have been very confused, because he added with a smile, a kindly one: "But I don't have a blanket." And no one knew about it! And it was already autumn, and although there is no winter in Erceg Novi, the nights are very cold. Of course, we immediately got him a blanket, and he, obviously being young, was somehow embarrassed"…
Don Cadet Corps of Emperor Alexander III in Gorazde.
From the memoirs of a former cadet - "Churchman."
—"Father, with fatherly love and care, warmed and caressed us at the time of our turning point between adolescence and youth, when we, abandoned and lonely, in the atmosphere of cadet life, especially needed warmth, and affection, and love. This warmth and love that he gave us were at the same time both maternally tender and monastically stern. His severity was closed, reserved for himself, like armor between the "I" and the world. It was the result of a strict monastic life, but always, like snow from the sun, was ready to melt under the rays of his smile. Father's smile, which immediately illuminated his seemingly stern face, with a deep crease above the eyebrows and usually lowered eyelashes, a face that the cadets were afraid of, this smile opened wide access to his inner "I," where kindness was the main quality ...
Father replaced Bishop Benjamin, who had left for Paris. He appeared somehow unnoticed, although in the life of the Corps, which was located in the mountains of Herzegovina, every event, even the smallest, aroused great interest and much gossip. Very soon Father entered into the life of the Corps and gathered around himself a group of cadets, "Churchmen." Previously, this was the name given to cadets who served in the Church during Divine Services. But Father's "Churchmen" were already a new phenomenon in the Corps. It was like a small monastery. Divine Services were held in the Corps Church every day. In the evening, between dinner and evening classes (this was the name given to the time allotted for preparing assigned lessons), Vespers and Matins were served. A group of cadets from the Churchmen attended these Divine Services every day - they read and sang in the choir. We loved these everyday services very much for their simplicity and strictness, while trying to give the Sunday and holiday services greater solemnity: we took care of the vestments, the cleanliness of the church, made two mitres for the priest with our own hands, monitored the possible splendor of all exits and religious processions, and we loved to organize a “meeting,” taking advantage of the fact that there was a deacon in the corps.
Father, in addition to the meeting and the excessive concern for his vestments, entered into everything himself, discussing with us all the smallest details. He paid a lot of attention to the ringing, teaching us how to ring. Of course, there were no bells due to poverty, rails and oxygen cylinders replaced them, but the scale was well chosen, and the ringing was melodic. On weekdays, Father loved to ring himself, amazing us with his skill. At every Sunday and holiday service, Father gave a sermon. He was a special preacher. He could not be called eloquent, but meaningfulness, deep faith and ardent persistence always sounded in his words, which reached the heart. In service, as in everything in life, Father was simple, although on solemn days he did not avoid pomp, albeit under our - the Churchmen's - pressure. With the choirmaster, a great theatre-goer, a pillar of our corps theatre, Father sometimes argued, trying not to allow liberties in the Divine Services and avoiding cheap effects. These were light scratches that were immediately smoothed out. But who inflicted serious wounds on Father was the director, giving orders to shorten the Divine Services, which were already shortened. Returning to his cell after such an unpleasant conversation, Father paced around the cell and angrily said, without addressing anyone, that "they" were ready to throw out everything most essential from the Divine Services, and when it came to "kiyanter", they found both time and opportunity. He ended by ordering that the liturgical books be brought and, angrily pointing his finger, said to the next reader: "You will miss this... read here until now... This is how we will now pray to God!" - he finished his instructions with contrition. During his stay in the Corps, Father completely renounced his property rights, following his monastic vow, and his cell with everything in it was the property of the Churchmen. We spent all our free hours there, regardless of the presence of the owner. The cell was always tidy. It was not cold in the winter, although Father did not heat it, but only slightly heated it in frosty weather. Apart from the icons, there were no decorations. The bed was narrow and hard, without sheets. Father slept in a cassock. When Father began to paint and icon paint, an easel appeared, which occupied the central part by the window. We entered Father's room without knocking, after a prayer, as in a monastery, with "Amen." Having entered, we crossed ourselves in front of the icons and approached for a blessing. Father usually did not turn his head to look at the person who entered, and only when he was asked for a blessing, he raised his head from his work and said: "Ah, it's you" - and called by name, after which he blessed widely, sometimes touching the forehead and shoulders. The older cadets often came to Father and in the evening after dinner had long conversations with him. Such evening conversations were more common during the holidays. Father himself liked to go to the third hundred (to the younger cadets), when they were already getting ready for bed,sat down on someone's bed and told them something from the lives of saints or just interesting stories. Teaching took a lot of time and energy. Father was a strict teacher, but fair and, when necessary, indulgent. He was very upset by inappropriate questions and arguments that drove him crazy, and then he would say with regret: "Heretic." Father spent the time not devoted to the cadets reading, painting and fishing. He read a lot, buying spiritual books wherever possible and tried to accustom us to this as well.
He began to study painting in the Corps under the influence of the drawing teacher, artist M. M. Khrisagonov. Father established the most friendly relations with him, which he maintained until the end of his life, corresponding with M. M. Both great lovers of nature, they went to the mountains or to the banks of the Drina River with folding easels to paint sketches, spending time in entertaining conversation. It is remarkable that M. M., an interesting, well-read man, who inquisitively looked into the most diverse branches of human knowledge, was not at all a church man, and in some theological questions he remained with his own, sometimes rather free opinion, never imposing it on others and not striving to spread his views, which reconciled Father with this shortcoming. Father spent time on the Drina not only with Mikhail M. Often, taking fishing rods, Father went fishing together with the deacon. Father Deacon was a passionate fisherman and spent all his free time on the river. Fishing served as Father's rest and peace, he was not interested in the catch, distributing it. For Fr. Deacon, it served as a support to his small allowance as a corps clerk.
The hours spent on the bank of the blue mountain Drina, flowing in a fairly wide plain among the mountains covered with forest, gave Father consolation in those sorrows, of which there were many in the seemingly quiet life of the corps. Father also loved long walks - excursions that lasted two or three days. He took us with him on such walks. These were wonderful days, and we, the invited ones, were happy when, stocked up with food from the corps storeroom, with knapsacks on our shoulders, we set off on a long journey. Local monasteries, often half-ruined and deserted, in which two or even one monk lived, served as the goal of our travels. In these monasteries and in places along the way where there were churches, Father, with the permission of the abbots, and sometimes together with them, celebrated divine services. Halfway along the way, Father conducted conversations with us that could be called a people's theological faculty. These walks served us, the pupils of a closed educational institution, and for meeting people. And most importantly, they helped us to understand and cultivate the beauty of the world as a natural revelation and through it - the greatness and mercy of the Creator, who gave us beauty. Many years later, recalling these walks, recalling Father somewhere on a pass from which a view opens onto a valley, onto mountains running away to the horizon and getting lost in a bluish-lilac haze, I see him as if alive, admiring this view, absorbing it into himself. His face smiles a bright smile, his eyes shine, the oncoming breeze flutters his hair, escaping from under his skufia and scattered over his shoulders. And he usually says with an indescribable feeling of tenderness: "What beauty, what wonderful works of Thy, Lord!"
Testimonies of M. M. Khrisanogov about Archimandrite Ioasaph.
I confess to you that Vladyka was the first one to whom I confessed again after a long break... Our friendship was based not only on truly wonderful walks with boxes of paints and easels in the mountains and conversations on various interesting topics, but mainly on faith in the Lord God, faith in miracles and the Lord's providence. In every discussion of any issue, this circumstance was felt mutually. Vladyka Ioasaph was truly an ascetic!
I will also reveal to you those miracles that were performed through the prayer of the Lord.
One day, an old Muslim woman was brought to the Temple on a stretcher. The Bishop asked if she believed in Christ and his prayer. As is known, Muslims revere Jesus Christ as a prophet. When the woman answered that she believed, the Bishop said a prayer, and the Muslim woman then got up from the stretcher and returned home on her own.
There were several such cases in Gorazde with the Bishop, but he did not like, and would not have dared to tell anyone about it because of his meekness. Only when he was already a Bishop, and I was at that time painting a portrait of Metropolitan Anthony in Sremski Karlovci, I told the Metropolitan several cases of healing through the prayer of Bishop Ioasaph. It was touching to see how, from the fullness of his feelings, Bishop Anthony burst into hot tears, saying: "There are still believers in the world!" ... I cried along with him from the tenderness of the feelings and faith of Bishop Anthony.
Invitation to Canada and Ordination as Bishop.
In their memoirs, Archbishop Theodosius and Archimandrite Ambrose relate that a conciliar-minded group of believers decided to open a parish in Montreal, Canada, and, by appointment of His Grace Apollinaris, invited Archimandrite Ioasaph to be the rector of this parish. But a visa for him was obtained only two years later, and in 1929 Archimandrite Ioasaph arrived in New York, and from there in December of that year he came to Montreal. But since not all the documents were properly completed, in the opinion of the Canadian government, he had to return to New York and stay there for more than two months. Having arrived in Canada for the second time on February 6 (19), 1930, he was supposed to leave for Yugoslavia in September of that year at the call of the Synod for ordination as a Bishop. Even before his consecration, by decision of the Synod Abroad, Archimandrite Ioasaph was appointed Bishop of Montreal on May 29 (June 11), 1930. The consecration took place on September 19 (October 12), 1930 in Belgrade.
On Sunday, October 12, 1930, the solemn consecration of Archimandrite Ioasaph as Bishop of Montreal took place in the Russian Church in the city of Belgrade, with a huge gathering of clergy and laity. The naming ceremony had taken place the previous evening at 5 o'clock, during which the one to be named had given a speech. The rite of naming itself was performed by three Bishops: Vladyka Metropolitan Anthony, Archbishop Garmogen, and Bishop Mitrofan, in the presence of numerous clergy and laity. The Liturgy the next day was celebrated by Vladyka Metropolitan Anthony with a large Council, which included: the aforementioned Bishops, Archimandrite Kirik, Archimandrite Theodosius, Archpriest Fr. Belovidov, Archpriest Fr. Sinkevich, Abbots Fr. Ambrosy, Fr. Theodosius, Hieromonks Fr. Seraphim, Fr. Ambrose with Prododeacon Baizdrenko and Hierodeacons of the Milkovo Monastery Fr. Luke, Fr. Zosima and Fr. Savva (Struve). During the liturgy, the actual consecration took place, during which the newly-appointed Bishop pronounced with particular expressiveness the confession of faith and the oath of allegiance to the Synod of Bishops Abroad. During the same service, Hierodeacon Fr. Savva (Struve) was ordained a Hieromonk, and then the new Bishop Ioasaph ordained him a deacon. The service was distinguished by great solemnity and a high prayerful mood. When presenting the staff to the new Bishop, Vladyka Metropolitan said a deeply edifying word, in which he pointed out the difficult nature of Bishop Ioasaph's service in America and the high personal qualities of the new Bishop. After the Divine Service, a meal for the clergy was held, hosted by Bishop Ioasaph. No speeches were made during this meal, but those present lovingly exchanged opinions on the personal qualities of the new Bishop. The Milkovo monks pointed out that the characteristic feature of the new Bishop was his sincere simplicity and closeness to the people. They told how in the Monastery in Milkovo, where he came for the summer, going fishing, he was given the most difficult task - to hold the seine alone, while the other rope was pulled by three people. In the heat of work, the honored scholar Archimandrite was shouted: pull the rope harder, turn it to the side, etc. The Bishop fulfilled all this with zeal and humility. His teachings in the Temple opened the hearts of the people to him. Hearing these stories, it seemed that in America, where many Russian people are scattered, where the Church is torn apart by various "sharks," Bishop Ioasaph will have to hold the tightrope of Russian church and public life for more than just three. Seeing the calm, inspired face of Bishop Ioasaph, no one doubts that the "rope" has been given into reliable hands. After the meal in the apartment of Bishop Anthony, the Most Reverend Ioasaph was presented with a liturgical staff by the monastic brethren, and Archimandrite Fr. Theodosius delivered a short but very heartfelt speech.
Speech of Bishop Ioasaph at the nomination (in abbreviated form).
Two questions have particularly occupied me in life.
The first is the study of the ways of God's mercy. I observed the ineffable mercy of God first of all in the richly gifted nature and I explained it to myself by the fact that nature is subject to the inevitable laws of nature. I began to observe human life; and even where free will turned to evil, I always found the mercy of God. Then I decided to turn to what is most sinful, the worst, and turned to my heart, to my inner life. It seemed that there was no place for God's mercy here, because there was nothing good here. But here too I discovered God's mercy and I remembered the words of the Psalmist: "Lord, where shall I go from thy Spirit? and whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend to heaven, there art thou; if I descend into hell, there art thou." Then I was finally convinced that God’s mercy towards man is boundless and unlimited.
The second is whether the Last Judgment will soon come. From the signs in external nature, from the state of humanity, and finally from myself, I felt that the time was near, that I must hasten to do God's work and carry out the preaching of His Kingdom. And so, standing here on the threshold of my new episcopal service, I ask myself the question - is the boundless, limitless mercy of God again pouring out upon me and I think: "Lord, weaken the waves of Your grace for me." If the Lord wants to punish me, a sinner, and grants me the grace of episcopal service in order to exact greater punishment from me later - I accept, may His Holy Will be done. If the Lord wants to bring good to other people through me, an unworthy one, and bring them into His Kingdom - I accept and do not object. If the Lord has seen anything good in me and rewards me with the episcopal lot for the salvation of my soul and the souls of the faithful, I thank the merciful Lord and humbly accept His great mercy. Nevertheless, God-beloved Bishops and the entire sacred Council and pious laity, I ask you to pray for me, that the Lord may make me worthy of the grace of the episcopal service bestowed upon me.
Bishop Ioasaph, who arrived after his consecration, was met at the pier in the city of Montreal by about a hundred people. From the pier, the Bishop immediately went to the Church, where he was also solemnly met by the priest Fr. A. Tsuglevich and numerous worshipers.
Canadian missionary V. A. Konovalov (later Archimandrite Ambrose) and Protodeacon Fr. Vasily Karklins (the latter according to the words of Vladyka) recall the first decade of Vladyka Ioasaph’s stay in Canada.
— Upon his arrival in Canada, Bishop Ioasaph embarked on a new thorny path of serving the Church of Christ, which was then being torn apart by warring jurisdictions. Many, even Bishops, slandered Bishop Ioasaph and hindered his holy labors. The new Diocese had no material property or support, not a single organized parish. Under such conditions, it was necessary to steer the ship of the Church of Christ with a firm hand to a quiet harbor not only amidst the raging waves of life, but also amidst a sea of lies and slander. And Bishop Ioasaph steered it without hesitation and without fear of the powers that be. The Bishop endured many hardships and adversities. He did not receive any salary and lived on voluntary donations. But no one ever saw him worried about the future, and he was always cheerful, good-natured and joyful. In the words of the Holy Apostle: "having nothing, they contained all things." And that this is so is evident from what was done by Bishop Ioasaph already in the first 10 years of his episcopacy in Canada. By the end of this period, the Bishop was already caring for about 40 parishes and communities, and opened a skete in the province of Alberta. One pilgrim bought three acres of land with a 2-story house, in which a Church was built downstairs, and the Bishop's chambers upstairs. Then the Bishop himself bought 80 acres of land nearby and built everything necessary for the skete - buildings and a beautiful wooden Church. The skete can accommodate 10-12 monks. He registered it in Parliament as the Skete in the name of the Protection of the Mother of God. In the city of Edmonton, the Bishop created a farmstead: a Church upstairs, a beautiful hall and 5 living rooms under it. On the adjacent plot of land there is a garage, a large garden and a vegetable garden. In 1939, in northern Alberta, Bishop Ioasaph founded a monastery for men in the name of St. Seraphim of Sarov on 120 acres of land he had purchased, on a huge lake rich in fish, which was also registered with Parliament. And all this was done out of nothing - through personal labor and the raising of donations, which, thanks to the charm, simplicity and high spirituality of Bishop Ioasaph, were joyfully handed into his hands by believers, knowing that their sacrifice would not be in vain. The Bishop, with ardent faith and enthusiasm that inspired his followers, himself uprooted stumps in the skete and monastery, cleared areas for a vegetable garden and orchard, dug beds, planted vegetables and trees, carried water and watered, then weeded the vegetable garden and harvested, took care of heating, preparing firewood for the winter, not to mention, of course, the main work, where he was the first - the construction of churches and all kinds of utility rooms. Thus, he left a living material memory of himself. It was not for nothing that he was later called - "The Enlightener of Canada."
The twenty years spent in Canada were a continuous spiritual and physical labor. It was necessary to restore Orthodoxy, which had died out in those parts. It was necessary to create parishes and communities anew; to fight the opposition, often to build churches and monastic hermitages with one's own hands. More than one church was fully equipped by the Bishop himself, and he often painted the icons himself. About one of the hermitage churches, the Bishop was asked who built it. - "There are four of us: Fr. Ilya and me, me and Fr. Ilya," - the Bishop answered, laughing cheerfully.
Observing the work and labors of Bishop Ioasaph in Western Canada, Archbishop Vitaly figuratively called the Bishop's skete "the Sergius Hermitage," and the Canadian missionary V. A. Konovalov, during his tour of Canada, approaching this skete, further developed the same idea.
When I was approaching this skete, I imagined that I was approaching the skete of Optina Pustyn, for by the grace of God I had often been to Optina Pustyn and had regularly visited its skete and the Elders. A small new pine church with a blue dome, with monastery buildings visible all around. When I entered the church, I was struck by its cleanliness and comfort. The entire floor of the church is covered with linoleum, the walls are covered with plywood, there is a beautiful iconostasis, a spacious altar, and everything is furnished in the spirit of the monastery... There is no gold or silver here. But the monastic spirit hovers and lives here. Further on is the cell of Bishop Ioasaph - a wooden, pine, new hut in the old Russian style, the same simple furnishings, appropriate for a monk - an ascetic, a recluse. The house for the brethren is two-story, also wooden pine, with 8 rooms for 8-10 monks, an icon painting room and all the necessary monastery services. This is in a skete with all the noted material constraints and even poverty. The same is in the diocesan city of Edmonton in the metochion of Bishop Ioasaph. The church in the metochion is beautiful. The church has a living space of 5 rooms, of which the Bishop occupies three: the 1st small room is the Bishop's library; the 2nd larger room is an office and a bedroom at the same time and the 3rd is an icon painting room, where the Bishop, as an icon painter and artist, paints icons himself. For receiving visitors there is also a reception hall and a room-kitchen for the deacon and cell attendant. Thus, from nothing, from poverty, with God’s help alone, in distant Canada, reminiscent of our temporarily lost Russia, through the labors and zeal of the ascetic Bishop, a center of our Holy Orthodoxy was created”….
The struggle of the Bishop, sometimes heroic, in defending the rights of our Church Abroad in those lands is striking; his deprivations, endless moral and physical labors in the process of recreating church-religious life among the old-timers - immigrants from Russia, who by that time had become spiritually wild after many years of living without pastoral care, are astonishing. These people, with whom the Bishop had to deal, were mainly immigrants from Volyn, often pro-communist in sentiment and sometimes did not pay due attention to their Ruling Bishop. But in spite of everything, Bishop Ioasaph - worked tirelessly and uncomplainingly in the field of the Lord. It took a lot of angelic meekness, patience and love for man to instruct and teach people to recognize and distinguish good from evil, which is so full of the modern world, apostate and God-fighting. For this purpose, the Bishop traveled the length and breadth of Canada, by train, by cart, and sometimes on foot... Wherever he went, he baptized both children and adults, married, performed funeral services, held divine services, and tirelessly instructed, preaching sometimes several times a day.
In the memory of people who knew Bishop Ioasaph, several incidents from his life in Canada have been preserved, told by him in Argentina or reported by his admirers from Canada. Bishop did not like to remember sad, difficult events, therefore almost everything known to us has a cheerful, even humorous coloring, which corresponds to the kind, joyful character of our Archpastor. Here are some of them:
"I arrive one day at one of the railway stations, where a cart was supposed to be waiting for me, so that I could continue my journey on it," the Bishop recounts with his characteristic cheerfulness, "I see a little peasant of ours walking nearby and looking attentively in my direction. Then, without hurrying, he comes up to me and asks: "Aren't you Bishop Iosaphaty by any chance?"
“Yes, I am,” I answer, guessing who they are talking about, “What is it?”
- "Well, I've been waiting for you for a long time, come on!" - and he leads me to his horses, which he left almost half a mile from the station. We walk. We talk. And in my hands are two suitcases with vestments and books, and also a leather bag over my shoulder.
“Listen, brother,” I can’t resist, “could you help me carry my suitcases?”
“Why not,” he answers calmly and takes one of the suitcases from me.
He came to the parishes, of which there were about sixty by the end of Vladyka’s stay in Canada, not on call, not for a fee, but when it was more convenient for him, often without warning, and sometimes he stayed for weeks. Once he was invited by a parish in the city of Soskatchewan. When he arrived at the railway station, 40 miles from the parish, no one met him. Without thinking twice, he shouldered his suitcases and set off on foot…
Soon after his arrival in Argentina, seeing churches full of worshipers, which made the most gratifying impression on Vladyka, he involuntarily remarked: “There, in Canada, I have never seen anything like this. On the contrary, it often happened that you would serve the Divine Liturgy on a Sunday or on a Great Feast, and in the church there would be no worshipers except one devout old woman. And at the cry of “peace to all,” you would turn around and say: “Peace be with you, Avdotya,” and she would answer: “and with your spirit”…
— “Often I had to serve in a skete-like manner,” says the Bishop, “for example, I would say the entire Great or Supplication Litany, and then sing “Lord, have mercy” 12 times. I had to do everything myself: light the candles, blow on the censer, and even read the hours.” The Bishop usually baked the prosphora himself.
Bishop Ioasaph did not have even the slightest shadow of ambition. The Bishop always held the opinion that a monk should not only not seek, but even desire any distinctions, awards or promotions. Therefore, when on October 16 (29), 1945, at the insistence of the Synod of Bishops of the Russian Church Abroad, the Bishop was elevated to the rank of Archbishop, he half-jokingly, half-seriously noted: “Why do I need this? I will not go to another jurisdiction anyway.”
The Bishop, like a baby, was kind and pure in heart, and the Lord heard his prayers. Thus, during his stay in Canada, when the Church was fighting with the renegades of the so-called "American jurisdiction" - the Metropolia, with whom the late Bishop had to fight a lot, defending the flock and the rightness of the Church Abroad. One summer there was a drought that threatened the harvest. The clergy of the American Metropolia repeatedly held religious processions and served water-blessing services in the fields, but in vain - there was no rain. After this, at the request of his parishioners, faithful to the Synod of Bishops Abroad, Bishop Ioasaph also held a water-blessing service in the field, asking that the Lord send rain upon the earth. And, lo and behold! Before the worshipers had time to reach the house of the owner, a rich farmer, on whose field the service was being held, a heavy downpour began. "And what about you, Orthodox," the Bishop asked enthusiastically and cheerfully during the common meal, "we won! Now you see whose side is right and true."
In his humility, the Bishop attributed the miracle that occurred to the faith and prayer of his flock…
The Bishop had a rule - never to take any food supplies on the road, not to eat or drink until he reached his destination. Once Bishop Ioasaph happened to travel by train from Edmonton to San Francisco. The journey lasted three days. - "I settled myself comfortably by the window," the Bishop says, not without humor, - and sat there for all three days without getting up from my place. I sit and admire how the green fields, forests, villages, farmsteads hurry to meet the fast-running train ... And I myself pray, fingering my rosary. And it was so good and joyful in my soul that it seemed I could sit like that my whole life, without leaving the carriage. On the third day I noticed that the conductor of the carriage, passing by me, more than once glanced in my direction with some curiosity and even anxiety. Finally, he decided to strike up a conversation with me, apparently offering his services. I replied that I did not understand English. After which he left and soon returned with a stranger.
“Are you, Father, perhaps Russian?” he addressed me in Russian with a strong, pronounced Jewish accent.
“Yes, I am Russian,” I replied.
“Hello!” he said happily, extending his hand to me.
— "Perhaps you, father, need something? Then tell us. We will provide everything for you… perhaps you want to eat?"
— "I thanked him for his attention and flatly refused everything. After that, they left me alone," laughs the Bishop. There was a shortage of priests. Therefore, the Bishop often had to travel around his Diocese with various requests. During these trips, according to the Bishop, he often had to meet and encounter blatant ignorance regarding faith and complete ecclesiastical savagery.
“I was once invited to the family of a wealthy farmer, a native and immigrant from Volyn,” says the Bishop, “in order to perform the sacrament of marriage.
“Tomorrow,” they tell me, “you will marry Manya and Olga.”
From further conversations it turns out that Olga, the eldest daughter, has still been baptized, but Manya has not.
- How do we marry? - I ask, - first we need to baptize; and before baptizing, we need to prepare her and teach her the Orthodox faith.
- What about the guests? - the parents ask, almost in tears. "It would be better tomorrow..."
I understand them well - they are a working people, every day is precious to them. If we leave it like this, they will go to the sectarians.
- Well, okay! - I decide, - Do you have a clean barrel? Bring it here, fill it with water!
Until late at night, the Bishop sits with his entire family, talks, instructs, briefly explains the essence of the Orthodox faith, prepares a young girl for holy baptism, already after midnight, almost with the first roosters, baptizes her in the prepared "Font," and the next day he marries her... And then he goes on. He hurries wherever they call, bringing people the light of the Gospel teaching; he taught, instructed, healed spiritual wounds; he looked closely at people - whether there might be a candidate among them for ordination to the priesthood. Thus, during one of his stays in Vancouver, Bishop Ioasaph met a young professional artist - a singer. They got acquainted. It turned out - a former seminarian.
"I need priests," said the Bishop, "and you are a seminarian, and you sing some stupid songs." "Thank God, I heeded his words," recalls the recently deceased Father Alexander Znamensky, "I stopped singing "stupid songs" and accepted ordination from the Bishop."
Teacher Anna Ethering recalls: "... Bishop Ioasaph was the founder of our Holy Trinity parish in Windsor, Ontario, Canada. As our ruling bishop, he would come to us from time to time on official business, but sometimes he would also visit us while passing through New York. With his blessing, we opened a "School of Russian Literacy," where I had to study for many years, starting in 1934. That's when I saw in Bishop Ioasaph an intelligent, observant, straightforward spiritual father, teacher, a man with a kind soul who loved children. Bishop Ioasaph considered it his duty to visit our school every time, and not for 5-10 minutes, as if to serve a number, but for the entire lesson. He would observe the progress of my classes, and then he himself would ask the children questions, examine them, give them some explanations himself and tell them something interesting for the children and joke with them. And you had to see the attention of the children to him and at those moments his kind, clear eyes. This picture is still alive in my old eyes: he was not "the boss," a sincere friend of the children was present at the lessons. We, the elders, could boldly turn to him with our everyday questions and concerns, and always received direct, kind and intelligent advice from him."
Bishop Ioasaph was an exceptionally interesting conversationalist and storyteller, and willingly took part in ordinary conversations. While in Argentina, he often recalled and loved to talk about Canada, which had become his native land. Where he spent about 20 years of his laborious and high-spirited archpastoral life, about a country whose nature and climate reminded him very much of our Russian north, where he himself was from. If the conversation took place at his metochion, he loved to accompany his fascinating stories with so-called "illustrations" - countless amateur photographs that he brought with him as memories of Canada. Now these photographs are a kind of visual documents, testifying to the labors and monastic exploits of the late Archbishop. There is a whole series of photographs that could be called "Bishop Ioasaph at work." In one we see: a small courtyard of the bishop's metochion in Edmonton; In the foreground, in an old working cassock, stands the Bishop with a large axe - a cleaver in his hands near a huge pile of wood he sawed and chopped.
“I had to do everything myself, I didn’t hire anyone,” the Bishop explained, “well, I had the strength...”
On another, he is seen making a wide swing, mowing the grass in a forest clearing, cut at one time and cleared of stumps by the Bishop himself. Now this clearing serves as a road leading to the monastery. At the end of the clearing is a lake. Showing the photograph, the Bishop explained: "a road was needed, so I built it myself..." At first glance, the life of Bishop Ioasaph in Canada seems to be full of hard work and physical deprivation, the fight against slanderers and enemies of our Church Abroad, but still bringing joy and satisfaction in the creation of sketes, monasteries, parishes, in the enlightenment of people who were losing faith, in helping those in need of the Word of God and pastoral love. It is not for nothing that he earned the title "Enlightener of Canada." But his cheerful natural character and deep, pure, childlike faith hid from those around him the trials and sorrows that Archbishop Ioasaph had endured throughout his life. He never darkened the lives of those around him, he was always outwardly joyful and friendly. But his sincere faith in man was often subjected to severe trials and yet did not fade, thanks to his high spiritual qualities. For example, he blindly, childishly believing in man, ordained to the priesthood a person about whom the flock spoke badly. But the Bishop believed in the possible correction of this person and ordained him. Almost a week later, he transferred to the American Metropolia. The second case. Before the ordination of another person, in whom many also doubted. The Bishop said to one parishioner: "But this one will also change, betray" ... - And then, as if guessing, he said to himself: "Will he betray or not?" And when this one also betrayed him soon after his ordination, he only said: “He betrayed him after all”…
Yes, childish naivety and gullibility brought him much grief... But this childish faith, naivety and love are some of the many wonderful qualities of the beautiful soul of Archbishop Ioasaph. Backbreaking 20 years of physical and spiritual labors eventually undermined even the heroic health and strength of the Bishop. From 1920 to May 1936, Bishop Ioasaph was Bishop of Montreal and vicar of the now deceased Archbishop Vitaly for the administration of the North American and Canadian Diocese, and on May 16 (29), 1936, he was appointed Diocesan Bishop of Western Canada. On October 16 (29), 1945, Bishop Ioasaph was elevated to the rank of Archbishop. On November 25 (December 8), 1950, Archbishop Ioasaph was temporarily sent by the Synod of Bishops to head the widowed Argentine Diocese. Not long before this, he had been struck by a serious illness that seemed incurable, and had undergone a serious operation. Accustomed, however, to unquestioningly following the dictates of duty and fulfilling obedience in a monastic manner, the Bishop, who had not yet recovered physically, was torn away from his native Canadian Diocese and flew to Buenos Aires. On July 10 (23), 1951, the Bishop was appointed Ruling Bishop of Buenos Aires and Argentina.
Archbishop Ioasaph came to Argentina during Lent in 1951. The new flock greeted him with great joy. Already at the first Divine Service celebrated by the Bishop, he attracted the hearts of those praying. This Divine Service was celebrated on Forgiveness Sunday in the Cathedral, which was then located in a rented basement. The Bishop called it then "catacombs." Archbishop Ioasaph already knew about the sad events that the Argentine Diocese had recently experienced and which had remained for some time without a ruling Bishop. The Bishop began to speak about this in his first word after the Divine Service. "This means that you have all experienced great sorrow..." Here the Bishop stopped and sighed, as if experiencing this recent sorrow together with everyone. And at that very moment, completely unexpectedly for the lay listener, his face lit up with a smile of sincere joy. Before the words about what he had experienced had even died down, he said: "Well, glory to God! Since the Lord allows us to experience sorrows, it means He has not forgotten us. It means that in the future He will give us the strength to endure sorrows without complaint. Glory to God!"
— "When I looked at our Archpastor," says N.P. Kusakov, "at his sincere smile and heard his praise of God for the sorrow sent, the thought touched my heart: And the Bishop must be a very good person. And when this thought touched my heart, it became warm." Probably, more than one of those praying thought so... Immediately after arriving in Argentina, Archbishop Ioasaph first visited parishes in Buenos Aires and its environs, and then in five remote provinces. Everywhere with his wonderful spiritual qualities, love for people, unshakable bright faith, constantly joyful mood and faith in a better future. With his desire to provide any help in deed and warm advice and sincere interest in the life of the parishes and worshipers, the Bishop quickly won the hearts of the flock, who responded to him with love for love.
At that time, the Argentine Diocese had 21 parishes and communities, of which in Buenos Aires and its environs there were 4 parishes that had their own churches, and 6 were temporarily located in residential buildings or rented premises. In the provinces there were 2 parishes that had their own churches, and 4 parishes that did not have their own churches. In Uruguay and Paraguay there were 5 parishes that had their own churches, but there was a shortage of clergy for their normal service. All these parishes were served by 19 priests and 6 deacons - three of the priests were in Uruguay and Paraguay.
The Bishop really wanted to have his own Cathedral, and not to huddle in a rented basement. The issue, as usual, was not resolved positively due to lack of funds.
This saddened the Bishop very much, and in the circle of close people he often said, sincerely perplexed: “After all, it’s so simple: if only five hundred selfless people were found who would agree to donate or even, say, lend one thousand pesos, even if not immediately, but in installments, then we would have our own Temple.”
The Lord judged otherwise... But still, the Bishop began the construction of the Cathedral, creating in January 1952 a Construction Committee, which began collecting the funds needed for the construction of the Temple and organizational work.
One must not forget the great and difficult labors of Archbishop Ioasaph during his five-year care of the Argentine Diocese, mainly in bringing peace to the raging, and at times split, environment of Orthodox Russian emigrants, both by ecclesiastical jurisdictional disputes and by social disagreements. Peace was brought not by dry administrative measures, not by orders and punishments, but by love, kind words, example and pure deep faith of the unforgettable Bishop. The Argentine Diocese needed order and firm leadership, and the loving, firm and at the same time kind hand of the Bishop was very useful. Being a kind and soft-hearted person by nature, the Bishop was not strict as an administrator, and was very lenient towards his subordinates. There were people who reproached and even condemned him for this, which, of course, reached the Bishop. He had his own point of view on this matter: "In order to demand or order," the Bishop humbly said, "there are police and other authorities... A bishop only needs to suggest or advise, which is equivalent to an order..." And, probably, this loving and gentle attitude towards people who had sincerely fallen in love with their ruling Bishop was more necessary and effective than strictness and orders. And therefore the Bishop's Diocese flourished under the gentle but uncompromising leadership of the Bishop. Its life was ordered and legalized. On June 25, 1952, the Orthodox Congregation was created, which was necessary for the Diocese to receive a legal entity, to which the church property of all parishes was transferred. This congregation was registered in August 1953 in the Ministry of Cults, and thus the Diocese was legalized in Argentina.
Upon Vladyka’s arrival in Argentina in April 1951, a bishop’s residence was set up, where there was his cell, a meeting hall, two rooms for the monks and cell attendants who lived with Vladyka. Here is how one of Vladyka’s cell attendants describes his impressions:
"... Through the half-open door you can see the small cell of Vladyka Ioasaph. A modest monastic bed is pushed up against the wall, a little further, in the right corner of the cell, a small corner in the form of a shelf is attached, on which stands on one leg a small wooden lectern with a prayer book lying on it; in the depths of the corner - to the right and left along the walls - icons are hung, in front of which the pink light of a flickering lamp flickers. Right there on a nail, simply driven into the wall, hangs an old epitrachelion. The Vladyka himself is not visible, but you know that he is here in his cell, sitting at his small desk and reading something from the patristic literature. When he is alone, he always reads. After a little hesitation, you say: "Holy Vladyka, bless!" - "God bless!" - you hear the usual blessing of the Vladyka. This means that you can go to the Vladyka enter. Having given you a blessing and kissed you on the head, the Bishop gestures with his hand to sit down, pointing to a comfortable leather chair, which somehow does not quite harmonize with the rest of the poor furnishings of the cell. Noticing some confusion and indecision of the visitor, the Bishop smiles softly and explains: "This is for guests." It turns out that the chair was given to the Bishop during his serious illness by one of his well-wishers; but then, having recovered a little, the Bishop almost never sat in it. Anyone who had the chance to talk at least once with the late Bishop Ioasaph or to visit his poor cell, the door of which was always open for everyone, experienced an extraordinary peace and calm in the soul, as if emanating from the entire figure of the humble and loving Archpastor.
"I read Saint Isaac of Svir," the Bishop says with particular thoughtfulness, "it's scary! So scary, I might as well take off my rank..." After a short silence, he adds: "By the grace given to me, I should have been a miracle worker, but here... Apart from my own sins, I see nothing..." the Bishop sighs deeply. If any of the priests or guests came to see the Bishop, which was a regular occurrence, and it happened that none of his cell attendants were home at that time, he would set the table and treat the guest with fatherly affection. Together with the Bishop, the Abbot Fr. Savva, who was soon elevated to the rank of Archimandrite and later became Bishop of Edmonton and Western Canada, and two cell attendants lived at the metochion. One monk, Fr. Cornelius, elevated by the Bishop to the rank of Hierodeacon and Hieromonk, who loved the Bishop like a father and cared for him like a son. The Bishop responded to him with love, instructed and patronized him. The second was a young man, very churchly and deeply religious, and everyone expected that he would take monastic vows. But something prevented him. Not long before the grave illness of Bishop Ioasaph, a young man was sent to him, as if by God's providence, who had almost finished medical school, became the Bishop's cell attendant and devoted himself entirely to caring for him, touchingly caring for him and alleviating, as best he could, his physical suffering. Soon he took monastic vows from the Bishop, then was elevated to the rank of hierodeacon and hieromonk, and after the death of his Abba, he left for North America. This is the currently living Archimandrite Anastassy (Zagarsky).
"Unfortunately, I did not have the opportunity to meet with Vladyka Ioasaph much or often," recalls M.P., "but from August 1951 until the very end of the earthly life of our good Archpastor, I periodically met with him on the affairs of our parish. Both on myself and on my comrades, I felt the bright influence of the Vladyka, his truly fatherly care for our small flock, his warm and lively participation in our efforts to create and strengthen the then young parish, accepted his wise and simple advice, his joyful spiritual and material support in difficult times. He signed the protocols brought to him: "Approved in full. God bless all who labored. Archbishop Ioasaph" ... And with a satisfied face and a smile that radiated joy and amazing disposition, he handed this protocol to us ...
On August 17 (30), 1953, the Bishop laid the foundation stone for our church, in the presence of a large gathering of clergy, guests and parishioners, in Temperley.
… I would like to remind our Russian Orthodox people that some of the churches around Buenos Aires have stones consecrated by Archbishop Ioasaph under their altars. I remember how, already during the illness of the Bishop, he joyfully donated to us several of his icons, which still adorn our church and are kept by us as a memory of the unforgettable Archpastor…
One lady who is not very religious recalls: “…Then the Bishop will come out of the altar at the beginning of the mass, look around, blessing, and it seems that he looked at me, blessed me, and my soul will feel so light…”
How Vladyka loved to stand in the choir during everyday services and sing Znamenny and Kyiv chants using the old square notes! He attracted young people to reading and singing in the choir, knowing from childhood experience how this binds them to the church, makes them related to it. During his service, services were conducted cheerfully, distinctly, with inspiration and deeply prayerful. For Vladyka himself, daily church services, which he almost never missed, were a source of spiritual and physical strength. And how he grieved when, due to illness, he could not serve or be present in the church. Almost crying, he would then say: "After all, the service is everything to me, the most important, the most precious…."
The Bishop was a great lover of books and, despite the meagerness of his means, managed to create a fairly significant library of spiritual content, which in our time, especially abroad, is of great value. Before his death, the Bishop bequeathed all his books to the Argentine Diocese.
During his stay in Argentina, the only thing Vladika could not get used to and come to terms with was the Argentine climate. Being a northerner, and with his heavy build, Vladika had a hard time with the humid Argentine heat. Despite his obesity, which Vladika found very burdensome, he had an innate liveliness of character. He did not like any slowness or long preparations. And if he had to go somewhere, he would put on his cassock long before the appointed time, and if it was cold, he would also take a knitted scarf, which he jokingly called an "Argentine fur coat," put some money in his pocket for the trip and certainly his glasses and go to the exit. When his cell attendants noticed this and warned him that it was still early, Vladika would only wave them off: "I'm afraid I might be late."
He tenderly loved children, often visiting the "Orthodox Russian Hearth," where a children's hostel had existed since its very foundation. When coming here, the Bishop would sometimes stay for a whole week or more, and for the children this was a great holiday. Sitting, surrounded by children in the depths of the Hearth garden, the Bishop would tell them something, or sing songs with them, or teach them to ring bells, in which he was a real master.
While still in Canada, Vladyka fell seriously ill, had to undergo an operation, his strength was undermined. In the Synod, when they learned that Vladyka was ill, they did not immediately believe him: - "Who? Vladyka Ioasaph? It cannot be!" But there was no doubt. Like Solzhenitsyn's Kostoglotov, Vladyka himself studied his illness from medical books he had obtained somewhere and was convinced that he had cancer. However, this did not make him despondent, but he accepted his illness with worthy Christian humility and submission to the will of God, which was partly reflected in the canon to Saint Ioasaph of Belgorod that he composed. In Argentina, he said, laughing, with his characteristic humor: "The doctors in Canada had already sentenced me to live no more than 2-3 months, but I deceived them, I have been living for several years now!" After the second operation, already in Argentina, it was not the illness itself or the suffering that depressed him most, but the impossibility of serving. After the operation, Vladyka was full of energy for about two years, keenly involved in all the affairs of the Diocese, particularly enjoying the church building, which he encouraged in every way. In mid-March 1955, he suffered his first stroke, which was repeated with greater force a week later; the patient’s condition became critical. News of Vladyka’s illness quickly spread throughout the city and its environs. Everyone rushed to the churches. It was the Saturday of the Veneration of the Cross. Prayers for health were held in overcrowded churches. Rarely has such power of prayer been felt as then! That is why it reached the Lord! Already on Sunday afternoon, Vladyka felt a little better, and then slowly but surely things began to improve. Already on Palm Saturday, although with difficulty, Vladyka was able to tonsure his cell attendant, his last tonsured, Fr. Anastasia. The Easter service, which was led by the Bishop, was a special consolation for all the believers. Ignoring the doctors' prohibition, he remained to serve the Liturgy and no one believed that he had recently been on the brink of death, everyone looked at him as if he were some kind of miracle, inspired by the hope that he would still recover and serve again.
Before the first blow, the Bishop, while in the mountains of Cordoba, bought a plot of land in the village of La Bolsa, where there were always many Russians. Soon he laid the foundation and ordered the construction of a small house and approved the design of a miniature church. He strongly desired to settle there in peace. Once, pointing to a picture of the future church hanging on his wall, he said: "This is my dream. Now, if God grants, I will recover, I will buy three bells for it. I will make such a peal!" In his dreams, he already saw a monastic monastery there. In June, he laid the foundation of another church in the Orthodox Russian Hearth. When, during the Dormition Fast, he inspected the construction that had begun, he said sadly: "I will not see this church again." And just there, two days later, he suffered the third blow, which, however, did not completely break his powerful body. But the Bishop has not left since then. He willingly received visitors, spoke to them with love and cordiality, instructed them, told them instructive stories, joked as was his custom, and thus encouraged and consoled everyone. But he had to lie down more and more, and this was perhaps harder than the illness itself. Sometimes he would say with a grin: "Well, I have to work again. Lying down is the hardest work for me!" He endured all the suffering associated with his long illness without complaint, patiently, without complaining and trying to cause as little trouble to others as possible. Only to his beloved Abba, the late Archbishop Theophan of Poltava, he once, as he himself related, complained: "I tell him: Vladyka, it is hard for me, pray for me, I have not seen you for a long time, if only I could see you in a dream!" - and my beloved mentor fulfilled my request. When I felt especially bad, I dreamed that he came to my bed, stood over me and looked at me lovingly for a long time, but he never said anything to me. And next to him stood a new Metropolitan, but a stranger. After this dream, I felt better!"
The Lord often said: "What is here is not important, the main thing is what is there! If only I knew that I would inherit the smallest corner of the Kingdom of Heaven, I would die today. What is our earthly life? Nothing!"
Once the Bishop advised the headman that he, as a Canadian citizen, had the right to be buried in an English cemetery, where at that time it was still possible to buy a place for 99 years.
During those anxious days of Vladyka's illness, parishioners of all parishes tried in every way to show their love and care for him. In his last days, young people, his beloved subdeacons, kept watch at night with him. Not long before his death, he said to the priest who visited him, congratulating him on the upcoming Angel's Day: "And I will not spoil your name day - I will die after." And so it happened - Vladyka died 5 days later.
During these three months, Vladyka received unction and often received communion. Various services were held at his home. During the month, Vladyka felt better and worse. And on hot, stuffy days, it became especially difficult for him. Five days before his death, the fourth stroke occurred, which was the last. On the 22nd, barely able to speak, he confessed and received the Holy Mysteries. His last words, clearly connected with him, were: "May Christ save you all." I want to believe that he had in mind not only those around him, but all of us, his spiritual children of Canada and Argentina. Then Vladyka no longer came to his senses, his breathing gradually subsided, until the Lord was pleased to accept his bright soul. The mystery of death took place on Saturday, November 13/26, 1955, at 6:40 a.m., on the day of remembrance of Saint John Chrysostom, especially revered by the Bishop, on the day when 43 years ago he, having taken monastic vows, set out on the path of his lifelong feat. The funeral service was solemn, as if festive. All the local clergy gathered. It was Sunday and a huge number of people gathered, as at Easter. The All-Night Vigil and Sunday Liturgy were served by the bishop's rite. All this was sad, for it emphasized the physical absence of the dear Archpastor, but at the same time it was comforting to know that he was here with us with his bright, loving soul... After the Liturgy, a monastic funeral service, marvelous in its content, immediately began. Particularly striking were the words spoken in it, as if by the deceased himself - save yourself, brothers! — because this is exactly what the Bishop often repeated at every convenient opportunity: “The main thing is to save yourself!” Before the “farewell,” the Abbot said a warm, heartfelt funeral sermon, in which he listed all the Beatitudes, and it turned out that the deceased fulfilled all of them.
Many later recalled that on the last "Forgiveness Sunday" the Bishop, as always, asked forgiveness from everyone, and then somehow especially emphasized that he forgives everyone, everyone who had in any way offended or upset him. "I forgive everyone!" he repeated again with some emotion. A huge multitude of people, who had come from all corners of the city, came to say goodbye to their late Bishop - they kissed the miter and his right hand, which held a simple wooden cross, preserved from his tonsure, and in his left hand was an old, tattered Gospel.
The liturgy and funeral service lasted 5 hours in 38-degree heat in the semi-basement of the church.
On Monday before the Liturgy, the requiem was sung by children from the children's hostel in the Russian Hearth, where the Bishop often went. After the funeral Liturgy, the coffin was transferred to a hearse and, accompanied by a long line of cars, took the body to the British Cemetery, where it was buried.
The Lord has no living and dead, but all are alive, and all of us together constitute one Church of Christ. Let us ask the Chief Shepherd Christ, that He, through the prayers of our departed Archpastor, would strengthen our faith, and not allow us to fall away from the true Church.
The unforgettable image of the Saint of God and church hymnographer Archbishop Ioasaph shines through the words of divinely inspired church hymns: "As your name suggests, so is your life; for your gray hairs have asked for wisdom, having witnessed the brightness of your face, your spiritual meekness, and have testified to the meekness of your silent word. Your life is glorious, and your repose is with the saints; pray for our souls!"
The words of the Lord are in the memory of the flock.
Infinite kindness towards people, understanding of the weaknesses of human nature, deep faith in the boundless mercy of God, complete meekness - this is what, first of all, everyone who listened to the Lord felt.
"Don't judge anyone. Maybe the Lord has already forgiven this person, and you have judged him"...
"Man has sinned, fallen, but do not remain lying in sin. Rise and repent. The merciful Lord forgives everything."
And he himself never condemned anyone. For him, all people were equal. He accepted everyone equally, whether a man of society or a commoner.
He often said: “Here I am a Bishop, a prince of the Church, but there…” he pointed to the sky, “it is unknown who I will be.” When asked once how to achieve, how to acquire true simplicity, the Lord answered: “Well, be sincere with everyone, frank without hypocrisy, and you will achieve simplicity.”
On the issue of faith and our salvation, the bishop said: “The main thing is to maintain the right direction and not stray from the path that leads to the Kingdom of Heaven.”
Who does not remember the ardent sermons of the late Archbishop Ioasaph from the church pulpit.
"It is said: do not trust in princes, in the sons of men, for there is no salvation in them!" - Or do you think that the United States of America will save you? A country where statistics show that 70 million modern Americans have declared themselves atheists, not belonging to any religion, and the rest have gone and are stagnating in all sorts of sectarianism?" - says the Bishop.
"Remember, Orthodox, the only thing that can save Russia is prayer and repentance!" Almost the only time the worshipers saw their Archpastor crying was when he spoke about this in his sermon.
Vladika's childhood religiosity grew into a deep, strong faith based on the teachings of the Church. This obedience and habit of internal and external discipline also have their roots in childhood. We were sincerely surprised that Vladika, a sick man, soon after a serious operation decided to leave Canada, which had become almost his homeland, where the climate was especially suitable for him. He answered: "What else could I do? I am a monk, obedience comes first: they told me to go, so I went, and then - whatever God gives! His Holy Will is everything!"
Yes, it was evidently the Lord’s Will that the Argentine flock should experience the beneficial, all-pure and pacifying love of the unforgettable Bishop Ioasaph, the power of prayerful help, his caring participation in grief and sensitive advice in times of bewilderment and doubt.
Once, the Bishop, recalling a dream-vision that he saw after the death of his spiritual leader, Archbishop Theophan of Poltava, said:
"After the death of my beloved mentor, I grieved greatly and prayed a lot for him...
And so, on the night of the 40th day after his death, I dreamed that I was standing before a majestic church, from which many bishops were leaving after the service. I recognized the great saints - Basil the Great, Gregory the Theologian, John Chrysostom and many others; suddenly among them I saw - my Vladyka Theophan! I ran up to him - "Holy Vladyka, where are you from?" - Yes, just now the cathedral liturgy was served. Come with us." I went. Everyone fit into a spacious car, or boat, which seemed to float in the air. Hills, forests, valleys of indescribable beauty, marvelous temples and monasteries passed us by. My abba showed me these monasteries and told me their fates: "This one will be saved, but that one down there in the valley will perish, it's scary to look at!" And all around us were beautiful gardens, a marvelous fragrance. I looked with admiration, I couldn't get enough, I even asked my Vladyka if it was possible to photograph such beauty, and he smiled and said: "Well, try!"
For a long time we flew through the air among this splendor. Finally I could not stand it and asked: "Where are we?" Vladyka Theophan answered me: "How can you not understand - in paradise!"
From then on I was at peace, realizing that my mentor had been granted eternal bliss."
I recall another story by Bishop Ioasaph, in which he spoke with great emotional emotion about his niece Natasha, a 12-year-old girl. Natasha, living with her parents in the Soviet Union, was seriously ill with typhus for a long time, but she endured her sufferings amazingly patiently, never complaining. One day, already quite weak, she expressed a desire to receive communion, knowing that she would soon die. Her parents tried to dissuade her from this, but she insisted on her own, saying that the Mother of God and St. Seraphim of Sarov had warned her about this. They went to look for a priest, but it was not so easy to find a "Tikhonite" priest, and not an officially recognized "Living Church member." But they still managed to give communion to the girl in time, and in the meantime she asked to wash her and change her into clean clothes. After receiving communion, she stood up, asked for something to eat (although she had not been able to eat for a long time), and even stood up. Her parents were encouraged, but she kept an eye on the time, and half an hour before the time indicated to her in the vision, she went to bed and began to say goodbye to all her loved ones. They tried to convince her again that she was mistaken, that she felt better after communion, but she insisted and assured them that they were about to come for her. Suddenly she perked up and joyfully exclaimed: "Here they come!" - "Who goes there?" - they asked her, - "The Mother of God and St. Seraphim!" With these words, her bright soul flew away.
“I then wrote to my brother,” said the Bishop, “that now they have their own prayer book before the Lord!”
Archbishop Theodosius recalls that he had a vision of Archbishop Ioasaph several times shortly after his death. Fr. Ambrose also told Fr. Makarius that Bishop Ioasaph appeared to him in reality: the first time during his cell rule, and the second time during the Divine Service in the altar, as if alive, but in transparent clothing, and thanked him for remembering his parents. Fr. Ambrose defined Bishop Ioasaph as a guardian, and a firm one at that, of canonical purity and integrity of the Church. According to Fr. Ambrose, Bishop Ioasaph was filled with love for everyone, was very simple and undemanding. And simplicity should be a distinctive quality of every clergyman, according to the definition of St. Righteous John of Kronstadt.
Archimandrite Constantine remembers Bishop Ioasaph.
One of my first acquaintances in the USA among the archpastors was Vladyka Ioasaph in San Francisco, where he came from Canada during my short stay there. I immediately fell in love with his heavy figure, filled with inexpressible good nature and the inner joy of dissolved humility. It seemed that no one was as comfortably silent as he; and if he spoke, he would give you a ruble. Sometimes he would tell something - in detail, thoroughly, unhurriedly - and then fall silent again. And somehow he was always accessible: no matter how late - he had not gone to bed, no matter how early - he had already risen... Softness, friendliness, compliance, unpretentiousness - the utmost. It seemed that he would never refuse anyone anything, and Vladyka would not insist on anything. And only gradually and accidentally was born from conversations with Vladyka the consciousness of an unyielding, unbending strength. It gradually became clear what a burden this calm hero had to lift on his mighty shoulders in this regard. It was not only the embodiment of physical strength that was before us. - And what kind of strength this was, I remember the story of Vladyka, how in France he hurried to the train with two large suitcases in his hands and how the porter sat down in surprise, having caught one of the suitcases on the fly - it was full of books. Rarely have I met a person so confident, calm, imperturbable, organically devoted to our Church Abroad - without any concessions, without any reservations, without any hesitation. And something else became clear: the deep theological culture inherent in Vladyka Ioasaph. He was simple in speech - not only in everyday life, but also from the pulpit. Silence was part of his nature. But behind the lack of talkativeness there was not poverty, but a kind of wealth, by which the Bishop himself lived and which he was ready to generously share with others. One could sense in Bishop Ioasaph a spiritual teacher. I learned later that his students in the Corps in Yugoslavia, where he taught, doted on him and kept his memory literally with reverence.
Every death in our time is a breach, an irreparable loss - the heroes leave, and who will replace them?! The true hero was the Lord who left us, and the memory of him will be firmly imprinted in all of us, his comrades, as a leader who would not spare himself and would lead everyone in the cause of defending our Truth. A fighter has left, and prayerful memory of him should merge for us inseparably with the covenant of irreconcilability with evil and a strong stand for Truth.
Bishop Ioasaph also had extraordinary poetic abilities. Unfortunately, the voluminous notebook with his poems, which remained in the library, was lost.
https://www.fatheralexander.org/booklets/russian/archbishop_ioasaf_skorodumov.htm
Tags: ROCOR , Archbishop Ioasaph (Skorodumov) , IPC Greece
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