It so happened that I was born and grew up to the formation of the person I am in a very secular country. The church there was separated from the state, and if not for the proximity of the Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius, I'm afraid I would do to the majority did not know anything about the existence of some kind of religion, God, the church, and all the like.
Needless to say that the family did not have a shadow of religiosity. The school did not discuss the issue of religion. In a society in the circle, where my parents were talking - we were all entirely too atheists or approximate to them. Yes, actually so the question did not stand. On the street and in the yard I was surrounded by ordinary people, the workers of our plant, the intellectual professions there was a - a doctor medical unit, and as it, too, has religious themes ugaral not even once.
The churches in the country were at best a museum. At worst, they stored potatoes and besides fanciful (for potato warehouse) architecture does it from ordinary buildings did not differ.
Suffice it to say that I clearly remember my first encounter with the Orthodox: we came to the relatives of his father in the city of Vladimir. Here they have there some reason they were all very religious are, in today's terms - churched. But I did not know it, and struck me ... icons! In the red corner. No, well, I really never seen. It was about that time my eight years, and I just said, what is it? There's still the lamp burned ... I honestly do not remember what I was told, I only remember that the landlord showed that there must pray.
I did not like. It somehow went against all the rest of my oktyabryatskoy (fades into the pioneer) reality. Praying to someone ... on some boards zakopchёnye ... I did not understand chips.
The second meeting took place nice with a good five years later, when I was thirteen or so. We went on a tour of this very monastery, the Trinity-Sergius. Laurus and the Soviet government was acting in the yard was the mid-80s, there is lodged (to this day the apartment) of a seminary, and of all: Trinity-Sergius Lavra - a serious center of Orthodoxy. It is written in any handbook.
... It was late autumn. It was getting dark early. Snow was not. And so it is this time of year as a particularly uncomfortable in our area, laurel also has made me a depressing depressive impression dressed all in black, because of the high hoods (caps his) seem huge, scary bearded black bellied priests; flocks of at least looking grim, but with a little more liquid borodёnkami, seminarians; nuns ageless, all - black, dark, all faces are detached (at best), and sometimes openly hostile, suspicious. And around - grandmother, old, poorly dressed, and also somehow evil all ...
The church inside - dark, heavy slurry me hitherto unseen odors in a completely dark corners takes some swarming - is an old woman, but evil eyes shine: chic at all, as the quarrel with the parishioners, with tourists, and with each other. Lighting - only candles but oil lamps. I can not see a damn at all, but come up and kiss the wall (it seemed to me so at first because I could not see icons).
... And at the entrance to the monastery sat me hitherto unprecedented crowd of cripples and beggars, begging. I saw beggars, cripples seen. At three stations of Moscow and they were then were not uncommon. And in other places (we traveled a lot with my family) across. But so many in one place at once - like the gauntlet passed. This final seal picture: I learned that there is a different world, where women kiss the hands of priests ungroomed appearance with crumbs in his beard, and they overshadowed them imposingly cross; where everything is subordinated to some ossified rituals thousands of years, not only understandable: from ordinary tap, a stylized cross, plain water is flowing, but it is water - the holy, and it is necessary for her to stand in a queue; we must kiss the feet depicted on paintings, kiss on the glass, which is good if at least occasionally wipe anything, disinfecting, while to understand what is depicted and why he had to kiss and put a candle - is impossible without special knowledge or an experienced ethnographer armpit.
On the way back to his father, who also disliked the Russian Orthodox Church to this day, by the way! - Laughingly told how his small, during the war were taken from sin to the village grandmother with my grandfather. My grandmother was a devout and dragged him every Sunday to church. And then forced to pray, confess, receive communion, etc. The church was very far up we had almost four in the morning, pizdyuhat nearly ten to fifteen kilometers, cold to eat anything before the visit to the church could not only when the father of the sacrament, and so on - in short, it is the passion for not like this thing, and since then it has remained this strong negative feeling.
They returned home, and I forgot about the matter. For in my life is no ordinary place of religion was and never viewed it for a hundred versts neighborhoods, everywhere you look. Neither you icons or cross. And Okay. How we lived. Even not so bad. Some would argue that is a good thing.
As the years passed, I grew up. At the same time in our country began a process of total churching before godless people. The church Rushed the broadest segments of the population: from the district committee secretaries to the bandits and the lads.
With the latter I met before the secretaries. And I, by the way, they understand the cause of their thrust to the church cause hateful flashy, but earnest piety. That I even saw in one place: in the war. Actually lads and life was fleeting, like running fireworks, firecrackers: flash-short flight-boo-all. When life hangs in the balance, it is very common for people to try to shift the responsibility to someone and think they are protected. And in general, it is still much more to do nothing can not. Suddenly help? Worse, it just will not ...
I remember the church in Tarasovka (quite popular in our part of the church) in the boys went to a Sunday service organized. I took with me. Oh ... If a thread right now, such as another blogger could picture out of my mind to publish - Second-wei, to start in the comments! Oil Painting: pop, then serves the choir sing, dibs on the walls frightened huddle, Zenk only stare in front of the church - the color of the German-American automobile industry then, all black as anthracite, and in the center of the temple ... they are. Bulls ... shaved heads, leather black almost burst from the muscle, the other one is healthier each other bulls. Heads bowed, cross, gubёshkami slap ... I already then, frankly, I somehow razvidet it!
Then, be sure to - to put a candle. Babka what, just live in fear, vytsepit and come to question where to put a toast, which for the peace, where - to rebёnochka have ... Well, at the output - a donation. Who is cooler.
It did not help them, by the way. Within six months, almost all killed. But those who are killed - also in the church and then went. And also, perhaps, were the same. Well, if the Kalash in cars left ...
At the same time however, there was a short path and my churching.
Life was not sugar. I though to the lads and not one, but belonged to the emerging class of entrepreneurs, to put it simply - a huckster. Russia - a zone of risky agriculture, and even in terms of business - so finally. Also enough problems. And something somehow all around are devout, the dimensions of a cross just do not measure, even our girls, which then were having fun - suddenly went on a Saturday baptism. Well, something I decided.
Pop I was familiar. When I asked him - he told me everything. And, yes, I forgot to say: I am not baptized, of course.
Well, he told me, well, you first need to confess.
I Thought I was serious. Very seriously. The fact is that the only sin was to me - it is my maiden abandoned. In my opinion, this sin is completely offset by the number of virgins who had thrown me in turn. Well the truth is, no, I did not throw, do not kill, do not steal, bribe, even if they had to give - penny, funny. Then corruption else was not seriously, in the early 90-something. In general, it was not clear what to confess something?
And blasphemous thoughts Dolby despicable me all the way to the brain. I know nothing about theology, but something that already was thinking in project management. Damn, if he is to have my poebulek thing - I'm not surprised that in this world such a mess! And if he does not care - that's what I'm going to shake the air in front of a priest something to his sex, huh?
Gritting his heart and soul, the thought dying to tell you about love affairs and the sins of the school: the teachers made fun of? Bullied. Well, that's. More to tell how the car was stolen one day a drunken man. Rode and left. More to tell how the parents tyril money and the car, by the way, too - ride. And so also, on the little things. I gather up.
In this day I go, you know, to the church. All such enlightened. It serves my priest. He graduated from the service, walked, smiled happily. And immediately I began the business, friendly conversation:
- Listen, you said you had to have a custom connection? Can you help Kruzak customs clearance? Kruzak driven me here ... - and follow the theme of Kruzak that drove him, in a long, Mlyn!
It's not his fault. He apparently forgot to think about my questions, and I did not make the impression of a man who can seriously come to him to confess, to be baptized, then-sho.
But I like a tub of water washed over. What are you, Pasha, ohuel quite chtol ?! Who is - a confessor? Shepherd? Which you last week stopisyat bucks sticking out six whist on Misery ?!
And if the other? Well, the other some other Hvatkinu Pasha sticks stopisyat bucks. And for good if Prefecture, not marijuana. Or sauna with girls.
Sdurel chtol you at all? They - the people, the same as everyone else. With the same set of pripizdey and cockroaches. Maybe even worse. Probably worse.
... We talked to the priest for Kruzak, I promised to help him solve the problem, and on the left. He was so happy that he did not think, and ask: What am I, in fact, even in the church come from? Do you suppose just for the sake of his motor-assist customs greed? Ah, such a spiritual father confessor ...
But then there was another attack of some churching. Already a local - our family. Ill mother. When they announced the terrible diagnosis, we are all in such situations, become grasping for anything that might somehow succeed.
Then send abroad was still pending, the currency was worth quite mad money fund did not exist, the insurance did not exist, and our medicine was already then - complete shit. That's what I want to say for the Soviet free medicine. Shit just now, because of the Soviet remained the same, but became more and paid exorbitant prices. And then the real cancer center such as doctors advised Urinotherapy try ... As an option ... See? Then the fashion was on all traditional medicine, not the so-called traditional. Sorceress, fortune-tellers, sorcerers, folk healer ... legion of them! And about every rumor had it that's it - works wonders, raises the dead from the grave, live rejuvenates twenty years, penis and breasts increases, both in general and in particular.
Of course, you realize that all this was a complete garbage, regardless of who and how this garbage chased at what level. But we could not otherwise: you can not say to a loved one - Mom, we will not deal with this garbage, you die - you die because ... Show me a man who can say such a thing, and the main thing - to do.
That's family rushed from the healer to the sorceress from the quack - a homeopath, not forgetting about the present professors and luminaries domestic medicine (luminaries on these and mother lasted three years).
Even closer to the climax came a priest. Already from Peter. Who he is, where who recommended him - some familiar friends. A young priest at all, all eyes radiates such bunting! The helpful, quiet, my mother sat by the bed, and cooed all day.
Mom says - it is easier, when he is sitting with her and talking. And he's about God, the Holy Scriptures ... Well, if easier - sit, then. He sits. Each day, as a job. No money, nothing he does not have. Look, a holy man.
... But he became their all traditional healers and healers recommend. And unlike many earlier, they took only cash, and much more. Witch, teas mushroom fungus were doing and God knows what, then a diet which to comply with demanding, then the world to deny, then - that all children immediately cross the laid ... We would not mind - something for the health of mother do not do already gathered Cross set (although I timidly insisted that there ever is appropriate to require payment: let the mother recover first - harder when I do not find an Orthodox).
But it did not happen again, before my mother died.
Priest stood up, rubbed her hands and stroked borodёnku, gently and calmly said, "God gave - God has taken." I really wanted to hit him, but such people are able to dissolve in the space ...
Bes, one word.
Mom was only 49 years old ...
... So then I already had serious complaints against priests and the ROC. Why is that? Yes, because I still can only assume there is a God, or any higher power, as it is not called. Does (s) he any relation to the fate of my mother? I do not know. But priests are accurate. And I know now: here too there is no God in whom little more than full - so it is in them!
I did not work for me, in general, anything with churched. And if you just do not know anything about the ROC, I was indifferent to it, after the communication with its members, described above, all of these stories, I began earnestly to her hostile.
Now I look like a church funny copulating day and night with the state, waving banners, and I understand that my son if they wanted to be able to say what I can say is: I grew up in a very secular country!
Of course, if the country does not change.
Sadly, gentlemen, comrades.