Hieromartyr Pavel, Bishop of Kolomna #
In the mid-seventeenth century, Rus’ and the Russian Church stood at a historical crossroads. They faced a difficult choice: to preserve themselves as the Third Rome—the last bastion of Christianity—even if that meant isolation among the nations of the world; or to join with the rest, exchanging their spiritual birthright for a mess of worldly pleasures. What should be placed at the forefront—spirit or flesh?
To descend is always easier than to ascend; to drift with the current is simpler than to row against it. The Russian nobility, having observed the lifestyle of the Poles during the Time of Troubles, began to see their own country as “backward,” a “land of ignoramuses,” with its long church services and full prostrations. They longed for theater, dancing, and all manner of fleshly entertainments, things long disapproved of by ancient Russian Orthodoxy. That very Orthodoxy itself began to seem “outdated” and “ignorant.” They wished to “comb it over,” to “correct” it, to make everything “normal,” “like other people,” like it was abroad, so that faith would no longer “interfere with living”…
Yet there were also spiritually steadfast people in Rus’, zealots of piety. They mourned over the perdition of souls and the corruption of morals. Burning with faith in God, they strove to kindle others by their own example and teaching. Living a life of prayer themselves, they sought to draw all around them to the same manner of life.
As fire and ice are unlike, as heaven stands far above the earth, so too were the aims of these two segments of the Russian world irreconcilably different. For a time, they coexisted, each seeking to draw the other to its own path—but the complete incompatibility of their pursuits could not but lead to open conflict sooner or later. And so it happened, in the middle of the “rebellious century”—the seventeenth after the Birth of Christ.
The first “party” comprised the majority of the Moscow nobility, led by Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich. It was joined by many among the upper ranks of the clergy, including Patriarch Nikon himself.
The second was smaller in number but more zealous in preaching. This was the circle of the “lovers of God”—the elite of the “white” clergy: priests and deacons. Among them were also some monastics. And from the episcopate, two stood among them at the start: Nikon, then Metropolitan of Great Novgorod and future patriarch—and Pavel, Bishop of Kolomna and Kashira, of whom we now continue our account.
The future martyr Pavel, son of a village priest named Ioann from the hamlet of Kolychevo in the Nizhny Novgorod province, was born, it seems, around the turn of the century—before the great Time of Troubles. From early childhood, he was a witness to the great calamities and sorrows of the people. A firm faith in God, instilled in him from infancy, and a life habituated to hardship forged the strength of his character.
His priestly father moved with his family to serve in the village of Kirikovo, near Lyskovo (now incorporated into the expanding city). Around 1632, another priest, Anania, moved there from Nizhny Novgorod; he had previously ministered to the women’s Zachatyevsky Monastery. The families of both priests became close and eventually joined in kinship: in 1648, Anania’s son Ioann—who would later become Metropolitan Ilarion of Suzdal—married Kseniya, the daughter of Fr. Ioann and younger sister of the future Saint Pavel.
Fr. Anania was so renowned for his learning and piety that other priests would travel to him for instruction. Thus, in 1632, the priest Ioann Neronov arrived here—later one of the leading figures among the revniteli blagochestiya (zealots of piety). It was here that he befriended the future confessor and hierarch.
The spiritual guidance of his father and the companionship of such outstanding clergy left an indelible mark on the soul of the young man. The future saint resolved to leave behind the vanity of the world and take the monastic path. He withdrew beyond the Volga to the Makaryev Zheltovodsky Monastery, where, after the appointed period of testing (iskus), he was tonsured and received the name Pavel. By around 1635, he was already fulfilling the obedience of the monastery’s treasurer, and in 1640 he is mentioned in one of the monastery’s donation records (in a book) as abbot. It seems that by this time, he had already been ordained a priest.
Through Protopope Ioann Neronov, Fr. Pavel became close to the circle of bogolyubtsy (God-lovers). The courtly circles, yearning for reform in the Church, hoped to harness their fervor—but for opposing ends: not to strengthen the Christian spirit in Rus’, but to undermine the established order. Among them, they sought out future agents of reform—one of whom would be Metropolitan Nikon of Novgorod, later Patriarch and reformer. But this was still in the future. For now, the bogolyubtsy were united, laboring diligently to correct ecclesiastical disorder and uplift public morals, and in return, they drew the hatred of certain church officials and the profligate nobility alike…
In July 1651, through the efforts of the bogolyubtsy and the Tsar’s spiritual father Stefan Vnifantyev, Fr. Pavel was summoned “to Moscow.” Patriarch Iosif elevated him to the rank of abbot of the Pafnutiev Borovsky Monastery, replacing his former acquaintance from the Makaryev monastery, Simeon, who had become Archbishop of Tobolsk (and would later offer help to the exiled and suffering Protopope Avvakum in Siberia).
On April 15, 1652, Patriarch Iosif—last of the “Old Rite” patriarchs—died, whether from illness or (as he himself foretold) by poison. Tsar Alexei, it seems, had already come to an understanding with Metropolitan Nikon regarding the forthcoming Church reform, and sought to advance him to the vacant patriarchal throne. The bogolyubtsy, unaware of this, also submitted a petition in support of their comrade’s candidacy for the patriarchate.
A Church Council elected twelve “spiritual men,” worthy to take the place of the deceased primate. One of them, the venerable Iov of Lgov, immediately withdrew “from the glory of men,” refusing to become patriarch. Among the others were Metropolitan Nikon and Igumen Pavel of Borovsk. Yet Pavel, like the other bogolyubtsy, placed his hopes in Nikon’s righteousness and supported his elevation to the throne of Moscow and all Rus’. The Tsar, playing along with the zealots of piety, agreed to the candidacy of the Novgorod hierarch, who was proclaimed on July 23, 1652, and consecrated patriarch two days later.
Before this, the Tsar and Nikon enacted a theatrical display: three times, in the presence of the people in the Dormition Cathedral of the Kremlin, Nikon publicly refused the patriarchate, and the Tsar and the council of boyars pleaded with him. At last, the Tsar and all present fell face down to the ground and tearfully begged Nikon to accept. He, dramatically and “reluctantly,” agreed—but only on one strict condition: the Tsar, the clergy, and all the people must honor him as the supreme father and pastor, and submit without question to whatever he would do or demand in the Church. The autocrat and all present gave such a promise.
Thus the path was laid for the Nikon-Alexei church reform, in which the secular ruling class, through the hands of the low-born Nikon, began imposing all manner of innovations upon the Russian Church—so that, in the end, it might be weakened, transformed, and cease to “interfere with their way of life”…
At first, all seemed to proceed according to its natural course in both Church and country. Nikon showed kindness to his former bogolyubets companions, hoping to draw them into the path of reform. They, considering him one of their own, could not yet suspect that Nikon had already “dipped his hand into the brine.”
On October 17, 1652, he consecrated Igumen Pavel as bishop of the Kolomna-Kashira see. (The previous hierarch, the aged Rafail, who had overseen the diocese since 1618, had taken the Great Schema and retired from service.) The diocese encompassed the cities of Kolomna, Kashira, Serpukhov, and Tula—a weighty and significant see due to its proximity to the capital.
Upon arriving in Kolomna, the new bishop immediately set to work. He sought to correct the morals of the clergy and even of the local voivode, whom he excommunicated for an offense committed against the priests. He began the construction of a church and auxiliary buildings. He prayed fervently in his cell, celebrated episcopal services in the churches… It seemed this peace would endure forever…
But suddenly the devil assailed the Russian Church—permitted by God as chastisement for the sins of the people. The instrument had already been prepared, the plan already drawn up: reform!
During Maslenitsa week of 1653, Nikon commenced the very work for which he had received the highest ecclesiastical rank. The “touchstone” he cast into the Church and the circle of bogolyubtsy was a document titled Pamyat’—what today would be called an “instruction.” This circular prohibited making the sign of the Cross in the old way, with two fingers, as Russian Christians had done since the Baptism of Rus’, as the holy Apostles had commanded, having received it from Christ Himself! From now on, all were commanded to cross themselves “with three fingers,” as had once been introduced by the Pope of Rome, and as the Greeks, grown cold in the faith, had followed after Rome in doing. Likewise, most of the many prostrations performed during Great Lenten prayers were declared to be violations of the Ustav and strictly forbidden…
This Pamyat’ struck Nikon’s former friends like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. They could not comprehend what was happening—why Nikon, who before his patriarchate had said that the Russian Church surpassed all others in piety, and that the Greeks had become corrupted, was now destroying that very piety. Was this not a demonic delusion? A tragic error?
For the Seventh Ecumenical Council—and others—had strictly forbidden the abolition or reviling of even the least of the Church’s traditions, and the replacement of them with new ones, and had anathematized all guilty of such impiety! Not even a patriarch, nor an angel from heaven, as the Apostle Pavel declared, had the authority to enact such lawlessness! And had not the Stoglav Council of the Russian Church, a hundred years before Nikon, strictly forbidden any other arrangement of the fingers in making the sign of the Cross, except the two-fingered form? Did it not pronounce a curse upon those who crossed themselves otherwise?
No, this was no error, nor accident, but the beginning of a dreadful era—another Time of Troubles for Russia, which would later be called the Great Schism…
Alarmed, the bogolyubtsy gathered in Moscow for an urgent council: what was happening? What was to be done? “We deliberated, having come together,” wrote Protopope Avvakum, “and saw that winter was near: the heart froze, and the legs began to tremble.” They agreed to keep a strict fast and pray to the Lord for enlightenment.
Protopope Ioann Neronov of the Kazan Cathedral by the Market (on Red Square) fasted for a week, shut away in a cell of the Chudov Monastery, and wept in prayer. And from the icon of the Savior he heard a voice: “The time of suffering has come; it is meet for you to suffer steadfastly!” And again he heard: “Ioann, be of good courage and fear not death: it is given to thee to strengthen the Tsar in My Name, that Rus’ may not suffer the fate of the iunity”—that is, the Uniates, those once-Orthodox who joined themselves to the Pope of Rome through the Unia. The Protopope recounted this to Saint Pavel, to Father Avvakum, and to the other zealous brethren.
Protopopes Avvakum and Daniil, future martyrs, seeing that the patriarch had fallen into spiritual delusion and knowing his unyielding and imperious character, resolved to act in the manner of the ancient Orthodox Fathers, who, when patriarchs fell into heresy, would appeal to the pious emperor to correct the erring hierarch—just as the Holy Fathers had done during the heresy of Nestorius, Patriarch of Constantinople, when the emperor convened the Third Ecumenical Council, which deposed the heresiarch and restored Orthodoxy in Constantinople. Likewise, these priests, laboring for several days and nights, composed a petition to the Tsar, “writing citations from the holy books concerning the arrangement of the fingers and the prostrations”—for the patriarch, in his instruction, had cited no authorities, but merely ordered the innovations by his own will.
Historians believe that similar petitions were sent by Bishop Pavel of Kolomna and other bogolyubtsy… But no response came from the autocrat. One did come, but not from the Tsar—it came from Nikon: not a reply, but patriarchal condemnation. Under various pretexts, Nikon began to persecute the bogolyubtsy, and by the end of that same year had deprived nearly all of them of their priestly offices and imprisoned them, later sending them into distant ozemstvovaniya—that is, into exile.
Saint Arseny of the Urals writes: “In July of that same year, Nikon convened a Synod in his Cross Church, at which, among other things, a report was presented against the Murom protopope Loggin. Though the accusation was entirely baseless, and Loggin presented a defense against the charges, Nikon, without any inquiry into the matter, ‘sentenced [Protopope] Loggin to torment by a cruel officer’… Outraged by this, Protopope Ioann Neronov, who was present at the Synod, said to Nikon: ‘Why deliver Loggin over to a brutal bailiff? An investigation should first be made… This is a matter great and divine, and the Tsar himself should be present at such a Council.’ To this Nikon replied in the presence of the whole Synod: ‘I have no need of the Tsar’s help, nor do I want it—nay, I spit and blow my nose upon it.’” Neronov and another protopope, Yaroslavl’s Yermilov, reported this to the sovereign. “Naturally, none of the others present at the Synod dared to confirm it, fearing Nikon; and Nikon strove to persuade the Tsar that this was a slander by Neronov”… And so, for this alleged slander, Nikon had Neronov sentenced by the Synod to confinement in a monastery “for humbling,” that is, for suffering. He spent some time in prison, and then, at the Tsar’s Borisov Court, he was beaten mercilessly. Afterward, Nikon removed his skufya and chained him in the Simonov Monastery…
Moved by Christian love and compassion, Protopopes Avvakum and Daniil submitted a petition to the Tsar on behalf of Neronov. But Nikon, upon learning of it, forbade Protopope Avvakum not only to serve, but even to read the Gospel aloud in the Dormition Cathedral, where he had served in place of Neronov. After this, Avvakum began to pray in the sushilo (drying hut) at Neronov’s residence, where he was staying. When Nikon learned of this, he had him bound in chains and exiled to the Andronikov Monastery. He then publicly defrocked his other opponents, Protopopes Daniil and Loggin, sending the former to Astrakhan, and the latter—after some time in chains—back to Murom under close watch. As for Protopope Avvakum, at the Tsar’s request, Nikon did not deprive him of his priestly rank, but merely exiled him to Tobolsk in Siberia, where the local archbishop gave him a church to serve.
Protopope Ioann Neronov, from his place of confinement, sent two petitions to the Tsar: in one, he interceded on behalf of the wrongfully exiled protopopes; in the other, he pointed out the unlawful innovations of Nikon as expressed in his infamous Pamyat’, and defended the ancient traditions of the Church… The Tsar left both petitions unanswered.
Thus the core of the bogolyubets circle was crushed. Only two remained at liberty: the Tsar’s spiritual father, Protopope Stefan Vnifantyev, and Saint Pavel—for the episcopal rank still shielded him, for a time, from open reprisal.
The Church fell into turmoil. Priests and laypeople were confused: had they really been crossing themselves and praying wrongly before? If so, then all the Russian saints were in error! Why were such decisions being made unilaterally by the patriarch, without conciliar deliberation?
Nikon needed the support of a Church Council. But not one that would review the matter with discernment—rather, a “tame” council, obedient to the will of the patriarch, the “Great Lord.” The participants in the Council were carefully chosen. Those opposed to the reform were not to be allowed into its sessions. Nikon wished only for those “from whom he expected no opposition, who trembled before the all-powerful patriarch and did not dare to express views displeasing to him,” as the historian Professor N.F. Kapterev wrote.
But Bishop Pavel, being a hierarch of the capital’s vicinity, could not be barred from speaking at the Council. Besides him, five metropolitans, four archbishops, eleven archimandrites and abbots, thirteen protopopes, and several royal dignitaries attended, including Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich himself. The Council was held not in a church, but in the chamber of the Tsar’s palace where the Boyar Duma usually met.
The Tsar and the Patriarch addressed the assembly, while the rest remained silent, fearing to contradict them. Only Saint Pavel spoke out fervently against Nikon’s innovations. He even brought with him two ancient handwritten books—one paper, the other parchment—from which he read aloud the ustav (rule) concerning full prostrations, which Nikon had dared to abolish as some sort of “novelty.” Later, a summary of this speech was recorded by the noted traveler Pavel of Aleppo. He reports that although all the bishops inwardly disagreed with Nikon, they signed the synodal decree he proposed out of fear of punishment—only “the Kolomna bishop alone resisted and would not sign the synodal act (on the correction of the faith).”
At the council, Nikon tried to deceive Bishop Pavel, so that he would not obstruct the ratification of the reform. The wording of the synodal decree was crafted in such a way that even Pavel would not object to placing his signature. It was written: “It is meet and right to correct [the printed church books] according to the old parchment and Greek books”—that is, after the ancient models, not the modern Greek editions printed in the Roman Catholic presses of Venice and other cities of Western Europe (which, in truth, were precisely what the newly appointed correctors of the Moscow Print Yard were using, under the blessing of Nikon and the direction of the ecclesiastical adventurer Arseny the Greek, who had previously been imprisoned in the Solovki Monastery for apostasy).
Under such phrasing, Bishop Pavel did indeed place his signature, but he appended a personal clarification: “And as I said at the Holy Council concerning the prostrations, I have here placed the ustav from the parchment book in its defense, and also another in paper.”
Nikon, however, was not satisfied with Bishop Pavel’s qualified signature, and the dispute grew sharper. It is reported that Pavel even declared he was withdrawing his signature from the synodal acts. Here is what the bishop said (as recorded by Pavel of Aleppo): “Since the time that we became Christians, and inherited the faith from our fathers and grandfathers—who were marked by their firm adherence to our rites and constancy in their belief—we too have held fast to our faith and will not accept a new one.” Hearing this, the Tsar and the Patriarch exiled the bishop to the depths of Siberia, “to the shore of the sea called the ocean, which surrounds the world… From ancient times monasteries have existed there, built to house the exiled. The bishop was taken to one of these monasteries to drag out a life worse than death—so grim was the place, and so unbearable was life amid its darkness and hunger.”
Other words spoken by Saint Pavel at the Council are preserved by Old Believer historians: “If anyone should take away from the customary traditions of the Holy Catholic Church, or add to them, or corrupt them in any way, let him be anathema.” This phrase is nearly a direct quotation from the Acts of the Seventh Ecumenical Council. But for uttering these words, Bishop Pavel paid dearly: Nikon, unaccustomed to tolerating dissent from his subordinates, flew into a rage. He declared that Saint Pavel was henceforth stripped of his episcopal rank, began to beat him, tore off his mantia with his own hands, and ordered him to be cast into prison immediately.
In order to retroactively justify his repressions against Bishop Pavel and the other bogolyubtsy, Patriarch Nikon did not hesitate to slander them: “Boiling with hatred and vengeance against the opponents of his innovations, Nikon that same year wrote to the Patriarch of Constantinople, Paisios, and among other things slandered them, claiming that Bishop Pavel and Protopope Ioann Neronov supposedly had their own separate books, a separate sign of the Cross, and a separate liturgy—that they were allegedly attempting ‘to introduce their own novelties into the Church, as though they were corrections’… Of course, this was the basest and most outrageous slander,” writes Saint Arseny of the Urals, “for the persons mentioned used and revered the very same books, the same liturgy, and the same sign of the Cross as were used by the entire Russian Orthodox Church at that time—and far from attempting to introduce innovations into the Church, they warned against them. Nikon, on the other hand, truly sought ‘to introduce his own novelties into the Church, as though they were corrections.’”
But the Patriarch of Constantinople had no means of verifying Nikon’s accusations and ruled that “these are signs of heresy and discord, and whoever speaks and believes such things is estranged from our Orthodox faith… Reject them and separate them by expulsion from among the flock of Christ, that they may no longer feed upon the pasture of life.” Nikon ordered that this response from the Patriarch be printed in the book Skriʐalʹ (The Tablet) as justification for his persecutions of the Old Believers, and Saint Pavel was exiled farther north to the Palaeostrovsky Monastery.
One of the persecuted bogolyubtsy, Protopope Ioann Neronov, wrote in a letter to the Tsar’s spiritual father, Protopope Stefan, on July 13 of that same year, describing miraculous signs that occurred during Nikon’s condemnation of Saint Pavel: “Even the senseless creation, seeing Bishop Pavel suffering for the truth, was torn asunder—revealing by this the disfigurement of the Church’s beauty. Just as, at Christ’s crucifixion, the veil of the temple was rent in twain from top to bottom—so too now, but the wicked hearts of men were not softened! O, how far has malice advanced! They crucified even the Lord and Master Himself—for so He willed, the merciful and Man-loving God, suffering that He might leave us an example. In the year 162 [1654], a revelation came to the hermit Anofry: God showed him the holy struggle of the sufferer Bishop Pavel—and your patriarch Nikon as completely darkened [blackened], along with all who hearkened unto him. And many other signs from God were shown, but all were scorned…”
Having rid himself of his opponents, the Patriarch began to accelerate the reform. He appointed the Greek hieromonk Arseny to oversee the Moscow Print Yard. Arseny had previously changed confessions multiple times—baptized in Orthodoxy, then entered into the Roman Unia, and even underwent circumcision to convert to Islam. The new team of spravshchiki (correctors) was tasked with re-translating the liturgical books from the Greek (but using the modern Venetian and other Western editions) and republishing all church books in a “corrected” edition, with as many alterations as possible.
The old books were declared “corrupted with heresy” and were to be removed from circulation. This nationwide replacement of books became a major source of income for the patriarchate: under threat of severe penalties, every parish was ordered to replace its old books with the new editions, which had to be purchased from the patriarchal office. Many parishes were very poor and could not afford such replacements. People coped as best they could: some continued to serve from the old books in secret until their disobedience was discovered; others sold their ancient printed books and manuscripts to Old Believers and used the proceeds to buy the newly “corrected” ones.
But the books were “corrected” in a strange and inconsistent way. Six different editions of the Potrebenik (Euchologion) were published in succession, each one differing significantly from the others. And in each edition it was claimed that only that one was perfectly correct, and that the others were not to be used under any circumstances.
From the pulpits of the highest churches, anathemas—curses—began to thunder forth against all who crossed themselves with two fingers, or who observed the “old rites”…
Even in exile and imprisonment, the bogolyubtsy remained faithful to the old Orthodox faith and continued to exhort other Christians to do likewise. The suffering hierarch Saint Pavel likewise remained firm until his death in the confession of the ancient pious tradition of the Church. He never acknowledged the unlawful deposition pronounced against him by the furious Nikon, replying to the heresy-beset patriarch thus: “A curse that is not according to the sacred canons is of no effect, but returns upon the head of him who pronounced it; for our Teacher Christ spake without falsehood: With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. Soon thou shalt follow after me; and by the same judgment wherewith thou judgest me, shalt thou thyself be judged, and thy affliction shall return upon thine own head.”
The canonical rules of the Holy Church allow an Orthodox bishop not to recognize the authority of a patriarch who has fallen into heresy (Apostolic Canon 31, Canon 15 of the Holy First-Second Council), and even state the following: “We decree that members of the clergy who hold the same mind as the Orthodox and Ecumenical Council shall in no way be subject to bishops who have departed or are departing from Orthodoxy” (Canon 3 of the Third Ecumenical Council). On the basis of these canons, the disgraced and fettered Saint Pavel resolved to continue liturgical service as much as he could while in exile.
When he was being led away from Moscow to the North, the saint requested permission from his guards to bid farewell to an old acquaintance and fellow villager—Ilarion, son-in-law of Priest Anania and now a monk-deacon (the future Metropolitan of Suzdal). The Old Believer tradition, recorded in the eighteenth century, tells the following:
“When he received this permission and saw Ilarion, he immediately began to recount with tears how he had been tormented at the Council and what insults and mockings had been heaped upon him. Ilarion, hearing this with sorrow, was pierced in heart and began to beg him with tears, saying: ‘Holy Master! Take me with thee into exile, that I also may become partaker in thy confession!’ The saint agreed to his plea, but first instructed him to obtain certain spiritual items and come with them to him, and he himself went on ahead into exile. Later, however, Ilarion was overcome by spiritual weakness, confusion, and fear—as a man—before such grievous trials: though his spirit was willing, his flesh was weak. He then sent the items with some others, but himself turned aside elsewhere.”
Bishop Pavel received these items, which are essential for the spiritual and bodily enlightenment of Christians and for the remission of sins—those things proper to holy baptism: chrism and other sacred objects. Rejoicing in this, he gave thanks to God, and glorified his Creator, that he had been made worthy to dwell in prison for the sake of the ancient piety.
There is also a tradition that, during Bishop Pavel’s imprisonment in Moscow, he was visited by Priest Stefan, formerly under his omophorion in the town of Belyov. Stefan asked the hierarch about the confusion that had arisen from Nikon’s actions. The bishop exhorted Father Stefan not to accept the Nikonian innovations and to stand firm in the true faith, though not openly, so as to avoid arrest; he himself expressed his desire to suffer “for My sheep and for the testimony of Jesus Christ.”
Then the priest asked how to receive those coming from heresies into the Old Rite. Saint Pavel instructed him to act according to the Church canons as set forth in the Kormchaya and in the Conciliar Exposition of Patriarch Filaret. Referring to Holy Scripture, as well as to the Book of Kyril and the Book of the Faith, he foretold that the priesthood of the Old Rite would not perish: even if the episcopal rank were to fade away, those who came from the “new faith” (if they were validly baptized) should be received by the second rite—that is, through chrismation—retaining the clerical rank they had held under the new rite: laymen as laymen, priests and deacons (and thus bishops also) in their ranks.
After this conversation, Bishop Pavel and Father Stefan parted ways. Stefan later went toward the Russo-Polish border, where he joined another Old Rite priest, Kozma. From there they journeyed to Vetka in the Polish Commonwealth, where they served until their deaths.
It is also recorded that the well-known hieromonk Feodosiy visited Saint Pavel in prison and received the same blessing as Stefan. At that time, the saint called down God’s blessing upon all Old Believers, both clergy and laity, including future generations. Later, Father Feodosiy served in the Kerzhenets region, where, at a local council, he introduced the practice of receiving Nikonians “by the second rite,” preserving their clerical ranks. He later moved to Vetka, where he consecrated the Pokrovsky Church and reposed in the Lord. His body was found incorrupt…
In the eighteenth century, the Old Believer Elder Iona of Kerzhenets transcribed from an old manuscript the History of the Old Rite Priesthood. It records that, during his exile, “zealous followers of the ancient piety began to come to him. He would instruct and exhort many, teaching and praying that they remain in piety and not accept the new dogmas introduced into the Church by Nikon. To all who came, he would say: ‘Honor the priest; do not remain without him; come to confession; keep the fasts; flee drunkenness; do not deprive yourselves of the Body of Christ. For the Lord Himself said: He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood dwelleth in Me, and I in him, and I will raise him up at the last day. If any man eat not My flesh and drink not My blood, he shall not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, and I will not raise him up at the last day. And again the Lord said to His disciples at the Mystical Supper: Take, eat, and drink; this is My Body and Blood. Do this in remembrance of Me until I come. Therefore I say to you: do not deprive yourselves of the Body and Blood of Christ and of every holy thing. Stand firm and hold to the traditions which ye have learned, whether by word or by our epistle. Do not turn to strange and diverse teachings.’”
When Patriarch Nikon learned that many were being guided and instructed by Bishop Pavel, he issued a prohibition and began to prevent them from communing with him, out of fear and persecution—having become afraid of Nikon’s ban. What then did Nikon devise? With the cunning malice of the wicked serpent, he plotted some evil against the true passion-bearer and suffering warrior of Christ, the King of Heaven. Alas, for the inhumanity and deceit of the evil serpent! At once he sent out new emissaries, commanding that no one be allowed to approach him—not priests, nor even common folk. Then they began to oppress not only him, but even those who came to him; and soon not only priests, but even the simplest laymen dared not visit him openly.
Seeing himself thus afflicted, Pavel began to say to those who still managed to come: “My beloved children! The time is come in which I shall no longer be able to see you, and you—do not grieve at our parting, nor bring trouble upon yourselves; and if they persecute you, flee, and give place unto wrath. For even our very Truth, Christ, spoke concerning this: If they persecute you in one city, flee into another: for ye shall not have gone over the cities of Israel before the Son of Man be come.”
When they heard these things, they were filled with tears, and all, as with one voice, cried out: “Bless us, holy master, with thy final blessing!” And turning to them, he said: “May the blessing of the Lord be not only upon you and your children, but upon the whole Church—wherever God shall be pleased that it should dwell, may the Holy Spirit rest upon it.”
They then asked him: “Holy master! After your parting from us, if these hieromonks or priests remain among us with your blessing, ought we to follow them and receive from them every sacred thing—baptism, marriage, confession, the Body and Blood of Christ, and the rest of the ecclesiastical rites? And if even these blessed by you fall short, and others formerly ordained in the ancient rite also come to lack, what then should we do in those days?”
And he answered all, both clergy and laity, who stood before him: “My children! If the time comes when the priesthood of the ancient ordination is lacking, look to the Scriptures. For according to the word of the Lord, the cities of Israel shall not be finished. And it is written: The Lord doth not die—thus, His priesthood abideth, and so too the Body and Blood of Christ shall endure unto the end of the age.
And if the ancient episcopal ordination comes to an end, look to the Divine Scriptures and how the Holy Apostles and the Holy Fathers established the canons at the Seven Ecumenical Councils and the nine Local Councils—how those from heresies ought to be received. They laid down three rites. The first rite is to baptize with three immersions. The second: only to renounce all heresy in writing and then be anointed with chrism. The third: neither to baptize nor anoint, but only to renounce their heresy and other errors.
Thus must you discern among the new teachers of Great Russia: if they abandon the triple immersion in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and baptize with a single immersion, or by pouring, or by sprinkling, or some other strange manner—then receive them by the first rite, baptizing them entirely, as the Greeks do.
But if they have not abandoned triple immersion in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, then for these two reasons alone it is meet to receive them by the middle rite: with a written renunciation of the newly introduced dogmas and a curse upon their heresies—and observe the ecclesiastical rank accordingly.
If any among you, being a faithful Christian, departs from the Christian faith and joins a heresy, and remains in that heresy for some time, but later recognizes his error and comes in repentance, weeping like the publican—such as these are to be received by the third rite, because they are still members of the Church outwardly: their baptism is sound, their rites are intact and accord with the Orthodox faith; but they persist in certain obstinacies and disobediences to their teachers, for which the Council laid a curse upon them and called them heretics. These are to be received by a written renunciation of their vain and self-willed heresy, as well as other heresies, but not with chrismation…
And for this reason I ease your minds and calm your sorrow, showing you how, after us, you may still not be bereft of the priestly order. And as I have already declared to you: receive those from among the new teachers by the second rite, through chrismation. And Saint Gregory allows that even in the absence of a bishop, priests may anoint priests with chrism. I have now resolved your doubt and fulfilled your request on the path of salvation. Amen.” Then they, weeping greatly, kissed him in Christ and departed.
While imprisoned in the monastery, Saint Pavel preached the truth of the ancient ecclesiastical Tradition, for which he suffered humiliation and punishments from the lovers of novelties.
In the year 1656, the confessor-bishop was transferred to stricter confinement in the Hutyn Monastery near Novgorod. He was placed under constant surveillance, and any visits from outsiders were strictly forbidden. At that time, the hierarch embraced the ascetic labor of foolishness for Christ’s sake, feigning madness. The monastery’s authorities, believing him to be mentally disturbed, eased their watch over him and even allowed him to wander among the nearby villages begging alms. The saint used this opportunity to preach the old Orthodox faith among the peasantry.
But even there, enemies were found who reported to the capital about the preaching of the disgraced hierarch. Nikon understood then that the confessor could not be broken. And so, he resorted to a time-tested method. Just as once the holy hierarch Philip had been secretly murdered—whose relics Nikon himself had brought from Solovki to Moscow in 1652—so too was another “obstinate one” destroyed: the unyielding Bishop Pavel.
From Moscow were sent the executors of the godless scheme. They ambushed Saint Pavel on a deserted road and murdered him—on Great Thursday, the 3rd of April, 1656.
There are such reports in Old Believer manuscripts: that in order to conceal the traces of their dreadful crime, the murderers dismembered the body of the martyr into four parts and secretly burned it. Another opinion is also voiced—that the sufferer was burned alive.
Thus was the hierarch, on the very day of the Mystical Supper, baked like a sweet bread unto the Holy Trinity and lifted up in flame, like Elias’s chariot, unto the Heavenly Bread, Christ. The relics of the holy hieromartyr Pavel were burned, and dust returned to dust, but his soul ascended to God who gave it, where he abides in the Heavenly Church among the assembly of hierarchs and martyrs.
The Old Believers have ever honored his memory with reverence. Two church services have been composed in honor of Saint Pavel: one by the Pomortsy in the eighteenth century, and the other by Bishop Innokenty of Nizhny Novgorod in the first quarter of the twentieth.
The commemoration of this great Russian saint is kept on April 3rd (Old Style), corresponding to April 16th on the civil calendar.