What, then, is the essence of our faith? - On “holy” lestovkas, prayer books, and sarafans — what truly matters in our faith? #
A certain Old Believer clergyman — a somewhat well-known one — once surprised me in conversation by referring to a “holy lestovka.” But we, as Christians, understand holiness to belong first and foremost to God. It is proper and fitting to speak of the Holy Church, the Holy Gospel, the Holy Temple, and the Holy Liturgy. But where are the boundaries of holiness? Is a lestovka, a prayer book, a candlestick, a prayer garment — a sarafan or a caftan — truly consecrated to God? Or are they merely devotional objects?
Some have begun to consecrate lestovkas and prayer books, and from this arises the idea: if it is consecrated, then it is holy. Yes, lestovkas and prayer books are used for prayer, but both are laid on the ground during full prostrations — and at times, due to the crowd in church or simple carelessness, people may even step on them. But everyone knows that to trample a holy object is a sin. So by sanctifying items used in prayer and worship, we may actually be causing others to sin.
Some go further, decorating lestovkas with the image of the Cross or icons of saints. In doing so, they turn the lestovka into an icon — and consequently, a person holding such a lestovka can no longer perform a full prostration while holding it. Yes, when making a single full prostration, a Christian can try to place the lestovka on a prayer book and cover it with their hands. But during services, especially during fasting seasons, where many such bows are made, this becomes very difficult.
There is another argument against placing sacred images on the lestovka: it is held below the waist and comes into contact with clothing — clothing that we wash in the same machine as other, sometimes unclean, garments.
And another question arises: is it appropriate to place a lestovka with sacred images into one’s pocket? And yet, a lestovka is meant ideally to be our constant companion — a reminder to pray. So what then? Must we have multiple lestovkas — one simple one to carry with us at all times, and another ornate one to show off in church?
There’s another curious instance of sacralization: some prohibit women from wearing sarafans during their days of purification. But is this truly right? I doubt it. Yes, women do not enter the church on those days, but they often stand at the threshold and pray, or bring their children to communion. And what — are they not allowed to wear a sarafan? That seems quite doubtful.
One immediately recalls the story from the Holy Gospel according to Mark, reading 21, about the healing of the woman with the issue of blood — how the woman “which had an issue of blood” came and “touched the hem of” our Lord Jesus Christ’s garment. Did the Lord say to her, “You are unclean — how dare you touch Me?” No — Christ said to her: “Daughter, thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace, and be whole of thy plague.”
In truth, we must admit that Old Belief today finds itself in a rather difficult state. A large number of neophytes have come into the Church, bringing with them not only much from the world, but also quite a bit from the Synodal Church. We are assailed by the heavy spirit of “little matronushkas” and “Seraphimushkas.” This spirit brings with it all sorts of “blessed” oils, pebbles from graves, and other church-adjacent superstitions — through which it sometimes becomes hard to perceive Christ and His faith in all its simplicity and truth.
A zealous desire to uphold all these “holy” lestovkas and prayer books, sarafans and caftans, to the letter, begins to overshadow our love for God — and through God, our love for the Christians around us. We spend an enormous amount of time on sarafans and caftans, we’ve built up a whole “theology of the prayer book,” yet we cannot seem to find time to read the Holy Scripture. We are ready to cast people into anathema and curse them because they gave a lestovka to a heretic — or merely because they condone casual, non-prayerful conversation with those outside the faith.
We forget that the heart of our faith is our love for God. And how can we love God if we are ready to curse fellow Christians just like ourselves? We have lost the ability to distinguish sin from the person, heresy from the heretic. If a man sins, we immediately conclude he cannot be a good person. Let us stop and remember that only God is without sin. All of us, without exception, are sinners. And if we are all sinners, then we must also remember that only God has the right to judge. And only God is the source of holiness.
Yes, God’s temples are holy — but we walk into them and tread them underfoot. Yes, the Holy Gospel is sacred — but some of our own venerable protopresbyters strike readers over the head with it! And did not the Lord Jesus Christ say in the Holy Gospel, “The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath” (Mark 2:27, reading 10)?
Faith and spiritual life are not found in strict adherence to customs and rules. Love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance — against such there is no law (Epistle to the Galatians, reading 213). And we want to replace this with rigid obedience to our traditions and rules?
Saint Basil the Great writes that the Lord “gave the Law as a help” (from the Liturgy of Saint Basil the Great).
Traditions and customs are necessary — we live by them — but they were handed down to us by our forebears as a help, and they must never overshadow the core of our faith. And what is that core? Let us recall the commandments: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself.” That is the heart of it! And yet, we are ready to cast someone into hell and curse them simply for giving a lestovka to a heretic.