The end
I forgot to
mention another important event: a random discovery,
while surfing on medium waves, the programs of Radio
Sophia. I probably began listening to it soon after my
conversion. This radio still exists, now in Internet
format only, transmitting excellent programs about
Orthodox Christianity and the other two major
denominations, literature – Russian and foreign, music –
from Church music to rock-n-roll and blues, politics and
much more. There, back in Russia its programs were like
an opened-into-springwetair window of a dusty room, just
like the books of Fr Alexander Men. Through this radio I
learnt about Fr Georgy Chistyakov, a disciple of Fr
Alexander – his lectures and sermons gave an immediate
experience of Christ’s presence and were very inspiring.
I especially remember one, about the Holy Friday
(Passion Week). It was clear to me that there was an
acting, fully-involved-with-this-world Orthodoxy
somewhere, outside – Fr Georgy was serving somewhere in
one of Moscow churches but somehow I did not attempt to
find him or to make any other steps into that reality.
The death of my grandfather almost coincided with the
end of the time of abundant grace. I began cooling down,
reading and praying less, feeling less. I knew from the
books that such indifference is inevitable and one must
struggle to keep what s/he was given but I did not
manage.
During my last Institute years I have been working as a
free-lancer for the state publishing office. It was a
reliable indicator of a changing situation in the
country. In the beginning of my work there most of the
projects were accepted with enthusiasm; later I started
encountering more and more difficulties. The editors
seemed to be able to see the traces of “cosmopolitism”
and “lack of love for Russia” in almost every
illustration. The atmosphere in Russia was thickening
again.
Approximately at that same time happened my short but
horrendous relapse to the occult. I cannot explain it
otherwise than with my ignorance and spiritual
deterioration to the point of numb idiocy. I came to my
senses very soon, rushed to the monastery, confessed and
forgot about it; later I had to deal with the weighty
consequences of my experiments (of that last relapse and
those I wrote before).
Soon after I finished the Institute I left for
Australia, forever – knowing that I must leave but
without a clue what would be next.
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