Fool for the Old Faith
-Dimitry Urushev
Bishop Paul of Kolomna is one of the most significant figures in Russian spiritual history of the 17th century. Unfortunately, he has not been fortunate in attracting scholarly attention. His name has been overshadowed by more famous contemporaries—Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich, Patriarch Nikon, and Protopriest Avvakum.
Paul and Nikon
The memory of Bishop Paul has been preserved primarily by Old Believer scribes. It is no coincidence that the renowned 18th-century Old Believer writer Simeon Denisov began his book The Russian Vineyard, a collection of tales about martyrs for the old faith, with a story about Paul. He introduced it solemnly: “The leader of that noble army was not from common folk, nor from the peasant class, but a shepherd of Christ’s flock, a vigilant guardian of church virtue, a golden trumpet of piety.”
Secular scholars only turned their attention to Paul of Kolomna in the 19th century. The first to do so was historian Mikhail Pogodin. In 1854, in an issue of the journal Moscovite, he published an article titled “A Note on the Homeland of Patriarch Nikon and His Opponents.” In it, Pogodin urged young scholars: “How much important and useful work for science could still be done by studying written literature and diligently collecting information about our historical figures. What is commonly known about someone like… Bishop Paul?”
Half a century passed before historian Sergei Belokurov responded to this call. In 1905, he compiled and published two volumes of Tales of Paul, Bishop of Kolomna. However, Belokurov’s work consisted not of authentic historical documents but of legends far removed from everyday reality.
Another 33 years later, in 1938, French scholar Pierre Pascal published Protopriest Avvakum and the Beginning of the Schism. For the first time, Paul of Kolomna was portrayed not as a figure from pious tales but as a living, breathing person. The French historian gave the Russian hierarch a voice. If we could hear Paul, he might have begun his story as Avvakum did in his famous Life: “My birth was in the Nizhny Novgorod region.” Like Avvakum, Paul was born, as Pascal determined, “in the hills”—on the right bank of the Volga, in the village of Kolychevo, situated on the Sundovik River.
The exact date of the bishop’s birth is unknown, but it is reasonable to assume he was a contemporary of Nikon, born around 1605. Pascal identifies Paul’s father as “a good priest named Ivan.”
According to Pascal, Father Ivan taught literacy to Nikita Minin, the son of a Mordvin peasant from the neighboring village of Veldemanovo—the future Patriarch Nikon. Nikon’s Life recounts that he was sent “to study Holy Scripture” and, after leaving “his father’s house,” lived for some time with his teacher. If Nikita indeed studied under the priest from Kolychevo and lived in his home, it is plausible that the future hierarchs were childhood friends. Who could have foreseen that they would become irreconcilable adversaries?
From Kolychevo, Father Ivan and his family moved downstream along the Sundovik to the village of Kirikovo, where he continued his priestly service. Kirikovo was located near the large trading village of Lyskovo on the Volga.
Paul spent his youth and adolescence in Kirikovo. From the “hills,” the future bishop moved to the left bank of the Volga, “into the forests.” We find Paul at the Makaryev Monastery on the Yellow Waters. Founded in the 15th century by St. Makary, this ancient monastery had been ravaged by Tatars and was revived only in 1620. The monastery soon became a major center of spiritual and cultural life in the Volga region. Among its brethren were many notable figures of 17th-century church history.
The young Nikita Minin also fled to the Makaryev Monastery to escape a cruel stepmother. After making a small financial contribution, he lived there briefly before his father brought him back home. Among the monastery’s monks were Metropolitan Kornily of Kazan, Archbishop Ilarion of Ryazan, and Archbishop Simeon of Siberia.
Undoubtedly, the Makaryev Monastery played a significant role in the life of the future Bishop of Kolomna. It was likely here that the priest’s son took monastic vows and was named Paul. He was probably ordained a priest in this monastery as well.
In the summer of 1651, Paul was summoned to Moscow and appointed by Patriarch Joseph as the hegumen of the ancient Pafnutyev Monastery in Borovsk. His appointment to this prestigious monastery came at the recommendation of Nikon, who by then had become the Metropolitan of Novgorod and a close friend of the young Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich.
Patriarch Joseph died on April 15, 1652. The senior clergy of the Russian Church gathered in the capital for a council and selected twelve “spiritual men” deemed worthy of the patriarchal throne. Among them were Metropolitan Nikon and Hegumen Paul.
By the tsar’s will, Nikon was chosen as patriarch. The inclusion of the Borovsk hegumen and other “spiritual men” in the election was largely symbolic, though it testifies to the high esteem in which Paul was held by his contemporaries.
The start of Nikon’s patriarchate gave no indication of trouble for the hegumen. In November 1652, Nikon consecrated Paul as Bishop of Kolomna, a city near Moscow.
Apples from the Bishop’s Garden
The Kolomna diocese was one of the oldest in Russia. A vivid and fascinating description of the diocese, its Dormition Cathedral, the episcopal vestry, and the bishop’s residence was left by Archdeacon Paul of Aleppo, who visited Russia between 1654 and 1656 in the entourage of his father, Patriarch Macarius of Antioch, and wrote a book about the journey.
In addition to Kolomna, a major trading city, the diocese included Serpukhov, Kashira, and Tula. With considerable resources at his disposal, the Kolomna bishop maintained a large staff of servants and guards.
Paul of Aleppo provided an enthusiastic account of the episcopal residence in Kolomna. He was particularly struck by the bishop’s garden, “where marvelous apples grow, rare in their beauty, color, and taste. They are of various types: red like carnelian, yellow like gold, white like camphor, all with very thin skin.” Historian Gerhard Friedrich Miller, who visited Kolomna in 1778, also marveled at the local apples: “There are many fruitful gardens in and around Kolomna, from which the residents derive considerable income. Kolomna apples are especially praised for surpassing others in size and taste.”
However, when the tsar and patriarch embarked on reforms of the Russian Church, neither the garden with its sweet apples, the splendid cathedral with its rich vestry, nor the luxurious residence could hold the Kolomna bishop. He sided with the opponents of the innovations—Protopriests Ivan Neronov and Avvakum.
At the start of Great Lent in 1653, Nikon sent Ivan Neronov a decree abolishing prostrations (full bows to the ground) during the reading of the Prayer of St. Ephrem the Syrian, “Lord and Master of my life.” The patriarch wrote: “According to the tradition of the holy apostles and holy fathers, it is not fitting to perform prostrations on the knees in church, but you should bow at the waist, and also make the sign of the cross with three fingers.”
This decree deeply troubled many clergy. Avvakum recalled: “We gathered together and pondered. We saw that winter was coming—our hearts froze, and our legs trembled.”
Neronov retreated to the Chudov Monastery, secluded himself in a cell, and prayed for a week. During his prayers, he heard a voice from an icon: “The time of suffering has come. You must endure steadfastly!”
Neronov shared these ominous words with Protopriest Avvakum and Bishop Paul. Avvakum was soon exiled to Siberia. For Paul, the time of suffering arrived a year later.
At the patriarch’s suggestion, the tsar convened a church council in 1654 to review and abolish Russian liturgical practices that differed from contemporary Greek ones. The exact date of the council is unknown, but scholars suggest it took place in February or March, as councils in the mid-17th century were typically held just before or at the start of Great Lent.
The council session began with a speech by Nikon. Addressing the tsar and the clergy, he declared that all innovations in the Church must be eradicated, and everything handed down by the holy fathers must be preserved without alteration, addition, or change. Following this, the council was presented with several examples highlighting differences between Russian and Greek liturgical practices. Each time, Nikon proposed adopting the Greek model, which he claimed was more ancient, and the council consistently agreed.
The only one to oppose Nikon and the new rites was Paul. When the patriarch raised the issue of abolishing prostrations during Great Lent, the Bishop of Kolomna dared to object. As Paul of Aleppo recounts, the bishop declared: “Since we became Christians and inherited the true faith from our pious fathers and grandfathers, we have adhered to these rites and this faith, and now we do not consent to accept a new faith!”
Paul spoke out not only against the abolition of prostrations but against the church reforms in general. His words, however, went unheeded. Under pressure from the tsar and patriarch, the council approved the correction of Russian liturgical books to align with Greek models. Paul of Aleppo notes that when the clergy affixed their signatures to the council’s decree, “the Bishop of Kolomna, being of a stubborn disposition, refused to accept or approve the act, let alone provide his endorsement.”
Nevertheless, the bishop did sign the council’s resolution, but added a note expressing his dissenting opinion on the issue of prostrations: “And what I said at the holy council about prostrations, and the parchment statute I presented in defense, is recorded here, along with another written document.”
Simeon Denisov, in The Russian Vineyard, recounts that after the council, Nikon tried to win over the Kolomna bishop with flattery. He spoke “deceptive words” and attempted to persuade Paul of the necessity of reforms, pointing to the “simplicity” of ancient Russian books. Paul countered that the truths of the Gospel and the apostolic preaching were also expressed in the simple language of Galilean fishermen.
When Nikon pointed out discrepancies between Greek books and Russian church customs, Paul responded that while modern Greek practices differed from Russian ones, the ancient Byzantine rites were fully consistent with the Moscow church statute.
Seeing that the bishop dared to contradict him, Nikon flew into a rage. He attacked the defiant bishop, tore off his monastic mantle, and, according to Denisov, personally beat him: “Calling the admirable Paul before him, with his own hands (oh, the all-malicious fury!) he struck the sacred face of the holy man. He was not ashamed of the great rank of the priesthood, nor did he respect the sanctity of the venerable gray hair of the man.”
While it is uncertain whether Nikon physically assaulted Paul, it is certain that, on the patriarch’s orders, the bishop was beaten, imprisoned, and then sent into exile.
The Moscow Council of 1666, addressing Nikon’s deposition, held him accountable for this: “Moreover, Nikon himself single-handedly deposed a bishop without a local council, where his transgressions should have been presented… After deposing Paul, Bishop of Kolomna, whom he cruelly stripped of his mantle, subjected to brutal beatings and punishments, and sent into distant exile. He forgot the principle that no one should be punished twice for the same offense. As a result, that bishop went mad (lost his mind – NGR) and perished wretchedly, without a trace—whether devoured by beasts or drowned in water.”
Chernihiv Archbishop Lazar (Baranovich), a participant in that council, wrote in a private letter that Nikon was judged for “his harsh treatment of the clergy and the deposition, by his own authority, of a bishop, which caused his sudden death from insanity.”
A Fool for Christ’s Sake
On Nikon’s orders, the bishop was exiled to the ancient Khutyn Monastery in Novgorod, under the strict supervision of Archimandrite Euthymius (Barashko).
The conditions of exile were so harsh that Paul of Aleppo wrote with horror: “It would have been better for him to die than to live there, due to the great confinement, miserable existence, constant darkness, hunger, and complete lack of bread; escape and salvation were impossible!” However, the archdeacon showed no sympathy for his Russian namesake, stating: “He, the bishop, deserved it!”
In the Khutyn Monastery, the disgraced bishop was completely cut off from communicating with like-minded Old Believers. The patriarch ordered that no one be allowed to visit the bishop, and those insistent on seeing him were to be seized and thrown into prison.
In response, the bishop took on the feat of yurodstvo—feigned madness. In the face of escalating persecutions, preaching the old faith was far easier under the guise of pretended insanity. Thus, Paul became a rare example of a “fool for Christ” bishop, a phenomenon unknown in either the Greek or Russian Church.
The 17th-century Old Believer writer Deacon Fyodor recounts: “Paul, that blessed bishop, began to play the fool for Christ’s sake.” However, outside observers believed the bishop had genuinely “gone mad” from his sufferings.
The Khutyn abbot and monastic brethren, considering the bishop insane, decided not to burden themselves with supervising a “madman” and allowed him to wander the monastery’s surroundings. Paul fully utilized this freedom to preach among the local population.
When Nikon learned that the bishop was preaching the old faith, he resolved to destroy the defiant bishop once and for all. The 1666 Council’s resolutions vaguely describe Paul’s death: he “went mad” and perished “without a trace,” possibly devoured by beasts or drowned. However, the council warned Nikon: “And this will be counted as murder against you.”
Avvakum, who was in Siberian exile at the time of the bishop’s death, wrote based on available accounts that Nikon “tortured Bishop Paul of Kolomna and burned him with fire in the Novgorod region.”
Deacon Fyodor provides the most vivid description of the bishop’s demise: “When Nikon learned of this, he sent his servants to the Novgorod region, where he (Paul – NGR) wandered as a stranger. They found him there, walking in a desolate place, seized him like wolves seizing a gentle lamb, killed him, and burned his body with fire on Nikon’s orders.”
Unfortunately, historians have no definitive evidence about the bishop’s death. Documents that could shed light on this dark affair have not been found and may never have existed.
At the 1666 Council, Nikon was questioned: “By what rules did you depose Paul, Bishop of Kolomna, without a council, strip him of his episcopal vestments, and exile him to the Khutyn Monastery, where he vanished without a trace?”
The judged patriarch replied: “I don’t remember by what rules I deposed him, nor do I know where he disappeared. There is a file about him at the patriarchal court.”
“There is no file at the patriarchal court, nor has there ever been! Bishop Paul was excommunicated without a council,” came the response.
Thus, we move from the realm of historical research to that of folk traditions. These traditions hold that Paul of Kolomna’s martyrdom occurred on April 3, 1656, on Maundy Thursday.
The martyred bishop became one of the most revered saints among Old Believers. However, only the Old Believers regarded him as such. For others, he remained an exotic historical figure, a relic of distant antiquity, an insignificant character from the forgotten 17th century.
It was therefore remarkable to see Paul of Kolomna in the television series The Schism, completed in 2011. Director Nikolai Dostal and screenwriter Mikhail Kuraev presented modern audiences with not only the tsar, patriarch, Protopriest Avvakum, and Boyarynya Morozova but also Bishop Paul. He was brilliantly portrayed by actor Valery Skorokosov. Thanks to him, the voice restored to the bishop by scholars resonated vividly and soulfully across the vastness of Russia.