Interview: Fr. Vadim Korovin – In Search of Truth, He Found Faith #
Following the appearance of the Old Believer YouTube channel “GLAGOL TV,” previously discussed on our site, viewers began to see its participants in a new light—especially Archpriest Vadim Korovin from the Saratov region. In church circles, he is already well known for his deep knowledge of liturgical practice and canon law, but we were genuinely surprised by other details of Fr. Vadim’s life story.
We present here a detailed interview conducted by one of our readers, who spoke with the multifaceted archpriest at the request of Old Believer Thought and added to our growing collection of remarkable testimonies from representatives of the Old Believer clergy. Links to other interviews can be found at the end of this article.
– Father Vadim, thank you in Christ for agreeing to this interview. For many of our Church’s faithful, you need no introduction. In your fifteen years of service in the Russian Orthodox Old-Rite Church, you’ve met many people in person, and they greatly value their acquaintance with you. Even more know you indirectly through your video lectures, your distance teaching in the adult Sunday school, and your publishing work.
However, not everyone has heard about your unusual journey to Orthodoxy, and today I’d like to ask you specifically about that. Tell us, please, about your family and parents, and whether you ever planned to become a priest?
I was born in 1968 in the city of Kuibyshev (now Samara), into a typical Soviet family of technical intelligentsia. My parents worked as engineers in the aerospace industry: my father, with the rank of major, was a military representative at an aviation plant (he oversaw the quality of aircraft production, the adherence to proper technologies, etc.), while my mother worked at the space design bureau NPO “Energia.”
I learned to read around the age of five and fell in love with it. As they say, I read books, magazines, and newspapers “with a passion.” I especially enjoyed the magazine Science and Life. And reading the 1930s edition of The Brothers Grimm’s Fairy Tales (yellowed, almost brown paper, tiny print) in first grade, I “ruined my eyes” and earned myself a lifetime of nearsightedness…
I attended an ordinary secondary school and wanted to become a doctor so I could help people in their suffering. I joined clubs at the Medical and Biological School in the Pioneers’ House, which helped me get into the Kuibyshev Medical Institute right after graduating from high school in 1985. I finished school with honors and was among the top students at the institute as well. I had a mind inclined toward scientific work and imagined that, in old age, I’d become some kind of professor—just as some of my university friends eventually did. But the Lord called me to a different path, and I consider that the greatest blessing of my life.
– You mentioned that you grew up in a typical Soviet family, where religion wasn’t of much interest. How then did it come about that you came to faith? After all, by that time you already had a higher medical education—and doctors are often quite cynical, with many of them believing in nothing.
– As a child, I was not a believer, since my parents never spoke about God or Christianity. However, my mother would dye eggs and bake kulichi for Pascha using recipes carefully copied from her coworkers, and she often expressed regret that she hadn’t had me baptized as an infant. When I got older, she encouraged me to get baptized. I replied that if I were to be baptized, I would have to change my whole life—start going to church, praying, keeping the fasts, and so on. She was bewildered: “Everyone gets baptized but doesn’t change anything in their life—what are you saying?” But to me, that seemed wrong and senseless.
I came to faith over many years—you could say it began in childhood. My first knowledge of religion came from atheist literature. I read a great deal of it as a child and drew a few conclusions. First, many atheist books contradicted one another to the point of mutually cancelling out their arguments. Second, that the existence of God cannot be either proven or disproven by scientific methods. Third, that the quotes from the Bible were very wise and instructive.
From my great-grandmother, we had two worn old books: a Bible in Church Slavonic and a Gospel in Slavonic with a parallel Russian translation. I should mention that I loved studying Slavic languages since childhood—Polish, Bulgarian, Czech. I had dictionaries for those languages. But there was no dictionary for Church Slavonic. At that time, such books were simply impossible to find anywhere.
So I began studying Church Slavonic on my own using that tattered Gospel—its pages frayed, glued into a bright red cover taken from a notebook. I started a notebook where I created an alphabetical glossary of unfamiliar words from the Gospel text. After working like this for several weeks or maybe months—I can’t remember exactly—I learned to read and understand the Slavonic text.
When one of my many uncles (my father’s brother) died, I visited his apartment before the funeral, where the relatives had gathered. My grandfather Semyon Andreyevich was reading the modern-rite Psalter by the coffin. I came up and stood beside him. He asked me to take over reading, and I—probably about ten years old—boldly began to read the psalms. My grandfather was very impressed. After that, he gave me a book that had been kept hidden for years—a gift from a deacon: a collection of homilies titled Zlatoust (Chrysostom) in Slavonic. The book turned out to be Old Believer, though neither my grandfather nor I realized that at the time. Giving it to me, he said, “You’ll probably serve in the church someday.” I replied that I wasn’t baptized and didn’t believe in God, so it was a strange thing to say… Strangely enough, what he said turned out to be true many years later. He didn’t live to see it.
Ultimately, I came to faith in God after long reflection and even some extraordinary experiences—though I won’t go into those now—in July 1991. I went where “everyone else went”: to a Moscow Patriarchate church, where instead of a proper baptism, they poured water from a ladle on my head over a basin and said I was baptized.
Immediately afterward, a flood of information about Old Belief descended upon me. For example, on the very day of my “baptism,” I bought the “zero” issue of the Old Believer magazine Church at a newspaper stand, which included a debate on pouring versus immersion baptism.
Six months later, in February 1992, I consciously chose the “old faith” and was properly baptized at the Samara Pokrovsky Church of the Russian Orthodox Old-Rite Church by Fr. Savva Tikhov (now Bishop Savvin).
– You earned your medical degree from the Samara Medical Institute and worked as a psychiatrist and addiction specialist. Did your work as a physician interfere with your growth in Orthodoxy? When did you decide to leave secular work and devote yourself entirely to serving the Church?
– I am very grateful to my alma mater, our medical institute, which I consider one of the strongest medical schools in the former Soviet Union. Studying there gave me a great deal both as a physician and as a person. The most important thing I gained from it was a scientific way of thinking—a desire to understand the deep causes of illnesses or events, to see how they connect with other facts, to build a coherent picture of reality. That, along with the purely medical knowledge and skills, has helped me greatly in everyday life and in pastoral work.
Among doctors, there are actually fewer crude atheists than, say, among biologists. A doctor comes into daily contact with the mystery of life and death, and that leaves a mark. There is a certain cynicism among some physicians, but you can’t generalize that to all. I’ve had the chance to speak with and be treated by very compassionate and knowledgeable doctors. I myself was just recently discharged from a COVID hospital in Balakovo and am very grateful to the doctors and all the staff for their skilled care and excellent treatment of the patients.
Working as an addiction specialist, I gradually came to realize that some duties of a doctor involve actions that are sins from a Christian perspective. For example, on two occasions, wives of drug addicts pressured me to write certificates attesting to their husbands’ conditions so they could obtain late-term abortions. I refused to give the certificates, but the situation deeply troubled me… In the spring of 1993, Fr. Savva invited me to serve in the church as chairman of the parish council. The previous council had resigned entirely due to some kind of disagreement with the priest. In the Old-Rite Church, it’s not customary to expel a priest from the community when there are conflicts—the episcopate protects priests in such situations. The laypeople simply withdrew from leadership. Father invited me—but I did not agree right away.
At that time, I found out that my mother had a tumor, suspected to be cancer. I began to pray to God and promised: if my mother recovered, I would leave secular work and dedicate myself to the Church. I prayed at home, using the lay order of service to St. Andrew of Constantinople, the Fool for Christ, and asked for help. A few weeks later, it turned out that the tumor had disappeared. Then I went to the chief physician and submitted my resignation. She spent nearly an hour trying to persuade me to stay in my job in Tolyatti, but I stood firm. I took my work record book and took a job at the church, losing tenfold in income, but joyfully gave myself over to the work of God.
– It’s known that over the past thirty years, there have been several schisms in the Russian Old-Orthodox Church (ROC). You know the situation from the inside. Tell us, please, what you believe is the main cause of these schisms and what could help prevent such upheavals in the future?
– In my view, the reasons are as follows. First, excessive rapprochement with the Moscow Patriarchate, in various aspects: clergy receiving training from them, prohibitions on calling them “Nikonites” (“we are Old Orthodox, and they are New Orthodox”), and so on. Second, the growing accumulation of visible innovations, unfamiliar to Old Believers. Third, a clearly clannish pattern of leadership succession. Fourth, the gradual erosion of the Church’s conciliar structure. Fifth, personal conflicts among specific individuals.
As a result of two disputes in the 1970s–80s, the Georgian Old-Orthodox Church separated from the ROC, led by Bishop Jonah of Tbilisi. That hierarchy included two bishops: Jonah himself and Bishop Philaret of Poti (Goncharov or Gonchar).
In 1997, Bishop Philaret died, and his successor was the now-living Bishop Pavel (Khorava).
I joined the Georgian hierarchy in the summer of 1999, still a layman, believing that the Old Faith was preserved there in greater purity.
In 2001, Bishop Pavel attempted to force Bishop Jonah to resign his episcopacy. When that failed, he separated from him and broke prayerful communion with his primate. Thus, two Old-Orthodox churches emerged in Georgia, each with one bishop: the Georgian-Slavic (Archbishop Jonah) and the Georgian (Bishop Pavel).
Later, Bishop Jonah consecrated two more bishops (Michael of Mtskheta and Savva of Gori), while Pavel took the title Bishop of Tbilisi and consecrated Vasily (Mashin, grandson of ROC Archbishop Pavel) for Poti.
– Yes, to make sense of this, one really had to live through it—it sounds like a thicket to the uninitiated… However, it was Archbishop Jonah (Chakhava), the Primate of the Georgian Old-Orthodox Church (GOOC), who ordained you to the priesthood. Occasionally one hears claims that Vladyka Jonah did something improper and that he was supposedly suspended or even deposed in the GOOC, and that this caused a schism. On the other hand, the ROC and GOOC recently reconciled and signed a peace charter, and the ROC recognized Bishop Michael, consecrated by Jonah after the schism. How should we view all this?
– At the time, the Georgian hierarchy had two bishops: the capital bishop Jonah (the primate), and his subordinate, Bishop Pavel. Who could have judged and suspended Bishop Jonah? One bishop cannot judge another bishop; even two or three cannot (according to the canons of the Council of Constantinople). A bishop must be judged by thirteen bishops, per canonical rules—never by just one. There was no suspension or, much less, deposition—and there could not have been, in principle. What happened in 2001 was a conflict between bishops, nothing more. Each remained in his office and on his see.
Therefore, the ROC had no grounds to refuse recognition of Bishop Michael, consecrated by Bishop Jonah.
– The history of the ROC is indeed full of such disagreements. Were there any similar examples in the RPSC?
We must acknowledge that the level of conflict in the Russian Orthodox Old-Rite Church (RPSC) has been significantly lower until recent times. The most serious rupture occurred in 2007. As an analogy, imagine if Bishop German (also a former ROC clergyman), after separating from Metropolitan Korniliy, had declared that he had “suspended” or “deposed” his primate, Vladyka Korniliy, and refused to recognize as priests all those whom Korniliy had ordained after the split—would we consider that proper or lawful? Of course not.
Thus, if someone “recognizes” or “refuses to recognize” someone else, it’s merely political games. Let me remind you that the ROC still does not recognize the priesthood of the RPSC, essentially considering it “self-ordained.” But we do not pay attention to that.
– Father, tell us, what moved you to research the legitimacy of the Belokrinitsa hierarchy, and what led you to join the Russian Orthodox Old-Rite Church?
– When I joined the ROC, I was immediately taught that the “Austrian priests” were supposedly “impostors,” “laymen in cassocks,” and so on. I believed this for a long time. I read “Belokrinitsa” literature (since there is hardly any “beglopopovtsy” literature), and gradually I began to learn about the history of the Church’s divisions. But I couldn’t bring myself to accept the Belokrinitsa line for a long while.
On April 11, 2005, I had a long debate with one of my relatives who had joined the RPSC. During that discussion, I realized that there were no serious or irrefutable arguments against Metropolitan Ambrose and the Belokrinitsa hierarchy. I spent the whole night awake, pondering the wrongness of division among priestly Old Believers. By the morning of April 12, I had reached a decision: to go to the Metropolia, to Vladyka Andrian, to repent of my years of error, and to be received into the Church. And exactly one week later, that was done.
– I’ve heard some people criticize Vladyka Andrian and Father Evgeniy Chunin for how quickly they decided to receive you. Do you think those criticisms are fair? Can it be said that Metropolitan Andrian and Fr. Evgeniy were incompetent in this matter?
– The Metropolitan, in receiving me, acted fully within his authority as a bishop. Even an ordinary Old Believer priest in earlier times could receive clergy from heresies or schisms—how much more so a bishop. Furthermore, the Metropolia Council reviewed this matter twice, in 2006 and 2008, and confirmed the correctness of my reception into the Church. So there can be no talk of incompetence or impropriety in the actions of the late Vladyka Andrian.
– Since joining the Church, you’ve done a great deal of work. You serve on several permanent commissions. What is it like to serve, for example, on the Canonical Commission or to handle divorce cases? That’s a great responsibility.
– It’s an enormous responsibility. A wrong decision can ruin not only someone’s life, but their soul—and even the soul of the one who made the decision. That’s why, if I disagree with a collegial ruling, I state my “dissenting opinion,” which I record beneath the decision.
– Lately, we’ve seen many new books and magazines appear on our church bookshelves. It was especially encouraging at the Holy Synods to see bundles of your magazine Bethlehem – House of Bread. Tell us how this journal was founded, and whether there were any difficulties in publishing it?
– The journal was conceived together with Fr. Mikhail Rodin (then still a layman), with the aim of encouraging people to read holy books. It is filled with various edifying materials from the lives of the saints, writings of the holy fathers, and so on. It also contains prayers, canons, and full services to various saints—St. Anna of Kashin, the hieromartyr Pavel of Kolomna, St. Serapion of Cheremshany, and others.
Between 2010 and 2019, thirteen issues of our Bethlehem magazine were published. Today, nearly all of them have been distributed among the faithful, but digital versions are available for download on the website “Black Monk” at www.blackmonk.ru.
– Is the magazine still being published, and what are your plans?
As long as I was receiving a church salary, I managed to work on the magazine in the time free from liturgical duties. I had planned to release a 14th issue and continue the work further. But circumstances changed, and since 2019 I have received no stipend for my service as a priest. I have to provide for my family, so my time is now taken up with other work: icon painting, icon restoration, and freelance jobs.
Even that has become difficult lately due to health issues. But I haven’t lost hope in reviving Bethlehem—perhaps in a slightly updated format.
– How long have you been involved in icon painting?
I’ve been painting icons since 1994. I trained with specialists in the Palekh school of iconography. My first icon was of Archpriest Avvakum—that was 26 years ago.
– It’s amazing to realize how multifaceted you are. But on top of everything else, you are also the author of a whole series of services to various saints and an even greater number of canons. That kind of creative work seems unattainable for most of the faithful. Writing even poetry in Russian is a gift not given to all—and here we’re talking about sacred hymnography in Church Slavonic… What is most important to you when composing canons and services? Dogmatics, poetry, the beauty of imagery—or something else?
– I love this creative work. Church Slavonic has been a native language to me since childhood, as I mentioned, so I usually don’t face difficulties. The texts often come on their own—it’s impossible to explain. What remains afterward is to proofread the spelling and check for possible disruptions in rhythm… I write directly to the melody of the corresponding tone (glas), which helps keep the proper poetic style intact.
– All our church prayers are written or translated into Church Slavonic in the ancient poetic style, where one hears melody and rhythm. This is especially evident in the text of the Psalter, which by the mid-17th century had been poetically polished to perfection. And how pale, by comparison, appears the modern-rite ‘reworking’ of the psalms! Their alterations have broken the poetic rhythm in many places, filling the text with dissonance…
I have written over twenty canons and services for newly glorified saints (such as Saint Arseny of the Urals, the venerable Pavel and Alimpiy of Belaya Krinitsa, Andrey Rublev and Daniil the Black, Serapion of Cheremshan, Job of Lgov, and others), and created over 200 tropars, kondaks, and ikoses for Old Believer saints. I have also composed several hagiographies in Church Slavonic.
– Father Vadim, please tell us briefly about the books you’ve written. What are you currently working on? And of course, what book are you planning to write next?
– A few years ago, I composed a study on the last ataman of the Nekrasov Cossacks, Osip Semyonovich Goncharov, who took monastic tonsure at the Cheremshan Monastery and was buried there in 1880. That work, titled The Ataman’s Cross, or The Last Ataman, received high praise from historian of Old Belief Aleksandr Prigarin, who called it the best work on the subject.
I also authored and published a book about the Saint of Cheremshan, titled The Mystery of Cheremshan’s Silence.
I wrote and published the Self-Study Guide to Reading Slavonic, which enables any Russian-speaking person to learn to read Church Slavonic texts with ease. The book was sold at the Rogozhskaya Lavka and, God willing, there will be an improved reprint. For now, it can be downloaded in electronic format from the “Library” section of the “Nasha Vera” website: https://nashavera.com/biblioteka/
I’ve written nearly one hundred essays on the lives of Old Believer saints. I’m currently preparing a new book titled New Saints of the Ancient Church, which contains over eighty lives of saints who lived after the Church Schism of the 17th century. I think it will be of particular interest to readers unfamiliar with Old Belief, as the Nikonian side often spreads the myth that “the Old Believers have had no saints since the schism.”
– It’s no secret, Father, that you put a great deal of effort into establishing what remains our Church’s only male monastery. Cheremshan is now on everyone’s lips. Tell us what had to be done to save this sacred site of ours. Who helped you? What challenges did you face?
– This story unfolded over many, many years. Time and again, Old Believers tried to recover the desecrated shrine, only to be denied. But in 2016, when two of the oldest monastery buildings were demolished and demolition was being prepared for the Dormition Cathedral, an Initiative Group was formed to preserve the Cheremshan Old Believer complex. It included priests, writers, artists, and professionals from the fields of science and culture. I had to take the lead in heading this group.
I created the website Cheremshan (www.chermon.com), where all news about Saint Cheremshan and its restoration was posted. We organized a historical-artistic exhibition titled Cheremshan: The Return, which was displayed in Moscow, Khvalynsk, Balakovo, and other locations. The exhibition was visited by the Speaker of the State Duma, V.V. Volodin, and the Governor of Saratov, A.V. Radaev.
With God’s help, we not only managed to save the church from demolition but also succeeded in securing its transfer to the Church. All the initial efforts to preserve, repair, and maintain the building were carried out by me and Father Mikhail Rodin with the support of the faithful. There were various difficulties, but they were always overcome. And this continued until Bishop Andrey (Kladiev) was appointed to the Samara-Saratov diocese, at which point we gradually handed over all monastery-related responsibilities to him.
– Tell us, where are you serving now, and how are you living?
At present, I serve in the village of Sosnovaya Maza, near Khvalynsk, not far from Cheremshan (there used to be a footpath through the woods from here to Cheremshan, but it has since grown over). We opened a church in an old merchant’s house. With the help of my family and relatives, we converted it into a place of worship.
The village is slowly dying out; young people don’t stay, as work is hard to find. I’ve already buried most of the parishioners—the majority were elderly. But we continue to pray and do not despair. The venerable Sergius once prayed alone in the forest, and we, at least, are more than that. After all, we offer our service to God, not to impress people…
I try to earn my living, with God’s help, through the work of my own hands, since the parish is not self-sustaining. I have to provide for both my family and the church. I paint and restore icons, take on contract work. During my recent illness, many people helped me financially, and some of my spiritual children send alms from time to time. May Christ save them—it would have been very difficult without that support.
– A new project recently launched in our Church: the program “About Everything” on the YouTube channel GLAGOL TV. The format is unusual—very informal and simple—but many people enjoy it, and it has received quite a few positive responses. You host the show with Fr. Mikhail Rodin. Tell us how the idea came about and what plans you have for future episodes.
– The idea came to us spontaneously—I don’t even remember which of us suggested it. We decided to give it a try. And here we are, still trying. The feedback from viewers has been mostly positive. The criticism we receive is generally constructive. We don’t have any grand plans—we just try to speak on various timely topics. We ask people to send in questions and suggest interesting topics for discussion. We’re also thinking about inviting other participants to join in the conversations.
– Father Vadim, you have many spiritual children who support you. Despite all difficulties, they’re ready to help. What would you like to say to them? What is the core idea you believe they should hold on to?
– The most important thing in life is to be with God. Everything else—all difficulties—is temporary. But to be with God means to follow His commandments and to love our neighbor. It means standing up for the weak, the persecuted, the needy, and helping them.
– Father, you are not only a pastor but also the head of a large family. You and your matushka have thirteen children. For many, that number seems unimaginable. What should young parents know in order to avoid making mistakes? How should children be raised so that they bring joy to both God and their parents?
– The main thing is the parents’ own good example. Without it, no amount of words or instructions will do any good. As Leo Tolstoy rightly said, you can’t raise a child with the principle “do as I say, not as I do.” A child must see their parents praying, fasting, doing good deeds—and must participate in all this from the cradle.
– As we wrap up, please give some words of encouragement to Christians in these difficult times. How can we avoid fear? How can we avoid worldly distraction? How can we preserve our faith?
– “All things work together for good to them that love God,” says the Apostle. The only thing we need to fear is our own sins—nothing else in this world, as the holy fathers teach us. Faith is a gift from God; we must pray for it, and He will help us preserve it. Read Holy Scripture, the writings of the holy fathers, and other sacred books—they will guide you on the true path.
– Thank you in Christ for your answers. We wish you health and strength for your ministry!
Interview conducted by R.M. Pavlov.