The Historic Petrograd Delegation of 1927: An Interview with Metropolitan Sergius
The infamous Declaration of Metropolitan Sergius, issued on July 16/29, 1927, gave a profound shock to the entire Russian Orthodox world. From every comer of the Russian land there resounded the voices of protest of clergy and laymen. A mass of “Epistles” was sent to Metropolitan Sergius, and copies of them were sent throughout the land. The authors of these “Epistles” implored Metropolitan Sergius to renounce the ruinous path he had chosen.
After a whole torrent of such “Epistles” of protest, an unending file of delegations began to stream to Metropolitan Sergius in Moscow.
One of such countless delegations was the historic Delegation of the Petrograd Diocese, which came to Moscow on November 27, 1927, being composed of the following members: His Grace Dimitry Liubimov, Bishop of Gdov (Vicar of the Petrograd Diocese), Arch priest Victorin Dobronravov, Prof. I. M. Andreev (myself), and C. A. Alexeev. Bishop Dimitry represented Metropolitan Joseph of Petrograd and had with him a long letter that had been signed by seven bishops who were in Petrograd (among whom, besides Metropolitan Joseph and Bishop Dimitry, were Bp. Gabriel, Bp. Stephen, and. Bp. Sergius of Narva). Archpriest Dobronravov represented a numcrou41 group of Petrograd clergy and had with him a letter from them, which was signed by Archpriest Professor F. K. Andreev. I represented the academic circles and brought a letter from a group of academicians and professors of the Academy of Sciences, the University, and other higher institutions of learning; the letter had been composed by Professor S. S. Abramovich-Baranovsky (formerly of the Academy of Military Jurisprudence) and Professor M.A. Novoselovy (the well-known publisher and editor of the ‘‘Library of Religion and Morals,” who was then secretly living in Petrograd and Moscow). S. A. Alexeev represented the broad masses of the people.
Despite the fact that the Petrograd Delegation came to Moscow after many other delegations that had come with the same purpose, it was received without waiting its turn. The Delegation’s interview with Metropolitan Sergius lasted for two hours.
After going in to Metropolitan Sergius, all members of the Delegation went up to him to receive his blessing, introduced themselves and testified that they had come as faithful children of the Orthodox Church.
When Metropolitan Sergius had finished reading the letters that had been brought to him (from the episcopate, from the clergy, and from the laity), Bishop Dimitry — who was 70 years old — fell to his knees before him and exclaimed in tears: “Vladika! Listen to us, in the name of Christ!”
Metropolitan Sergius immediately raised him up from his knees, seated him in an armchair, and said in a firm and somewhat irritated voice: “What is there to listen to? Everything you have written has been written by others earlier, and to all this I have already replied many times clearly and definitely. What remains unclear to you?!”
‘‘Vladika!’’ began Bishop Dimitry in a trembling voice with copious tears — “At the time of my consecration you told me that I should be faithful to the Orthodox Church and, in case of necessity, that I should be prepared to lay down my own life as well for Christ. And now such a time of confession has come and I wish to suffer for Christ; but you, by your Declaration, instead of a path to Golgotha propose that we stand on the path of collaboration with a God-fighting regime that persecutes and blasphemes Christ; you propose that we rejoice with its joys and sorrow with its sorrows... Our rulers strive to annihilate religion and the Church and rejoice at the destruction of churches, rejoice at the successes of their anti-religious propaganda. This joy of theirs is the source of our sorrow. You propose that we thank the Soviet government for its attention to the needs of the Orthodox population. But how is this attention expressed? In the murder of hundreds of bishops, thousands of priests, and millions of faithful. In the defilement of holy things, the mockery of relics, in the destruction of an immense number of churches and the annihilation of all monasteries. Surely it would be better if they did not give us such ‘attention’!”
“Our government” — Metropolitan Sergius suddenly interrupted Bp. Dimitry — “has persecuted the clergy only for political crimes.”
“That is a slander!” Bishop Dimitry cried out heatedly.
“We wish to obtain a reconciliation of the Orthodox Church with the governing regime,” Metropolitan Sergius continued with irritation, “while you are striving to underline the counter-revolutionary character of the Church... Consequently, you are counter-revolutionaries, whereas we are entirely loyal to the Soviet regime!”
“That is not true!” exclaimed Bishop Dimitry heatedly. “That is another slander against the confessors, martyrs, those who have been shot and those who are languishing in concentration camps and in banishment... What counter-revolutionary act did the executed Metropolitan Benjamin perform? In what lies the ‘counter-revolution’ in the position of Metropolitan Peter of Krutitsk?!”
“And the Sobor of Karlovtsy, in your opinion, also did not have a political character?” Metropolitan Sergius interrupted him again.
“There was no Sobor of Karlovtsy in Russia,” Bishop Dimitry replied quietly, “and many martyrs in the concentration camps knew nothing of this Sobor.”
“I personally,” continued Bishop Dimitry, “am a completely apolitical man, and if I myself had to accuse myself to the GPU, I couldn’t imagine anything of which I am guilty before the Soviet regime. I only sorrow and, grieve, seeing the persecution against religion and the Church. We pastors are forbidden to speak of this, and we are silent. But to the question whether there is any persecution against religion and the Church in the USSR, I could not reply otherwise than affirmatively. When they proposed to you, Vladika, to write your Declaration, why did you not reply like Metropolitan Peter, that you can keep silence, but cannot say what is untrue?”
“And where is the untruth?” exclaimed Metropolitan Sergius.
“In the fact,’’ replied Bishop Dimitry, “that persecution against religion, the ‘opium of the people’ according to the Marxist dogma, not only exists among us, but in its cruelty, cynicism, and blasphemy has passed all limits!”
“Well, we are fighting with this,” remarked Metropolitan Sergius, “but we are fighting legally, and not like counter-revolutionaries... And when we shall have demonstrated our completely loyal position with regard to the Soviet regime, the results will be even more noticeable. Probably we will be able, as a counterbalance to the Atheist, to publish our own little religious journal...”
“You have forgotten, Vladika,” remarked Archpriest Dobronravov, “that the Church is the Body of Christ, and not a consistory with a ‘little journal’ under the censorship of an atheist regime!”
“It is not our political, but our religious conscience that does not permit us to join ourselves to your Declaration,” I noted.
“I wish to suffer for Christ, and you propose that we renounce Him.” said C. A. Alexeev with bitterness.
“And so you want a schism?!” Metropolitan Sergius asked threateningly. “Do not forget that the sin of schism is not washed away even by the blood of martyrdom! The majority is in agreement with me,” he added authoritatively.
“Voices must be weighed, not counted, Vladika,” I objected. “After all, Metropolitan Peter, the lawful Locum Tenens of the Patriarchal Throne, is not in agreement with you; nor arc Metropolitans Agathangel, Cyril, and Joseph; nor such lamps as Metropolitan Arsenius, Archbishop Seraphim of Uglich, Archbishop Pachomius, Bishops Victor, Damaskin, Avercius, and many others; nor the Elders of Optina, nor the prisoners of Solovki... “
“Truth is not always where the majority is,” remarked Archpriest Dobronravov; “otherwise the Saviour would not have spoken of the ‘little flock.’ And the head of a Church has not always turned out to be on the side of Truth. It is sufficient to recall the time of Maximus the Confessor.”
“By my new church policy I am saving the Church,” Metropolitan Sergius replied deliberately.
“What are you saying, Vladika!” all members of the Delegation exclaimed with one voice. “The Church does not have need of salvation,” added Archpriest Dobronravov; “the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. You yourself, Vladika, have need of salvation through the Church.”
“I meant that in a different sense,” replied Metropolitan Sergius, somewhat disconcerted.
“And why, Vladika, did you order that a prayer for the regime be introduced into the Liturgy, while at the same time you forbade prayer for ‘those in prisons and in banishment’?” I asked.
“Do I really have to remind you of the well-known text of the Apostle Paul concerning the authorities? Metropolian Sergius asked with irony. “And as for the prayer for ‘those in banishment,’ many deacons make a demonstration out of this.”
“And when, Vladika, will you change the Beatitudes in the Liturgy?” I again objected; “after all, one can make a demonstration out of them, too.”
“I am not altering the Liturgy,” Metropolitan Sergius said drily.
“And who needs the prayer for the regime? Certainly the atheist Soviet regime does not need it. And believers could pray only in the sense of the entreaty ‘for the softening of the hard hearts of our rulers,’ or ‘for the enlightenment of those in error.’ But to pray for an anti-Christian regime is impossible.”
“Really! — What kind of Antichrist do you find here? replied Metr. Sergius with a disdainful gesture of the hand.
“But the spirit is precisely that of Antichrist,” I insisted. “And what called forth this prayer? Did they force you to introduce this petition?”
“Well, I myself found it necessary.”
“No, Vladika, answer as before God, from the depths of your arch pastoral conscience: did they force you to do this, as with much else in your ‘new church policy,’ or not?”
This question had to be repeated stubbornly and persistently many times, before Metr. Sergius finally replied: “Well, so they press one, and force one — but I myself think that way, too,” he concluded hastily and fearfully.
“And why, Vladika, did you order that right after the name of Metr. Peter your own name be commemorated? We have heard that this also was ordered from higher up, with the intention of soon omitting the name of Metr. Peter altogether.” Metr. Sergius did not reply to this. (In 1936 the commemoration of Metr. Peter. who died in 1937 or 1938. was prohibited.)
“And who appointed your ‘Temporary Patriarchal Synod’? And who has occupied himself with the appointment and transference of bishops? Why was Metr. Joseph (of Petrograd) removed against the wishes of his flock? We know, Vladika, that all this is done by the unofficial ‘ober-procurator’ of your Synod, the Communist secret police agent Tuchkov, against your wishes.”
“Where did you take all that from?” Metr. Sergius asked, somewhat disconcerted.
“Everyone knows it, Vladika.”
“And with whom have you surrounded yourself, Vladika?” added Archpriest Dobronravov... The very name of Bishop (later ‘Patriarch’) Alexei Simansky is enough to discredit your whole Synod.”
Metropolitan Sergius stood up and said that he would think about everything we had said and give a short written reply in three days. The audience was finished. In three days Metr. Sergius gave a written reply, repeating in general and nebulous expressions the theses of his Declaration.
The delegation returned to Petrograd. And in a short time a schism occurred. To those who broke off communion with Metr. Sergius, the latter replied by interdictions; the organs of the secret police cynically helped him.
The members of the Petrograd Delegation were soon arrested and suffered terribly. The aged Bp. Dimitry was put in the Yaroslavl political isolation ward for ten years, and then was shot. Archpriest Dobronravov was sent to a Siberian concentration camp for ten years, and then was sentenced to ten more years, without right of correspondence. I was sent to the concentration camp at Solovki. S. A. Alexeev, after becoming a priest, was shot.
The true Russian Orthodox Church went into the catacombs, where it remains to the present day as an invisible city of Kitezh, preserving itself as the unspotted Bride of Christ.
From Russian Catacomb Saints by St. Herman of Alaska Brotherhood, 1982.