Letters of the Valaam Elder Schema-Abbot John (Alexeev)
Christ is in our midst!
I have reviewed the English translation of Esther Williams while referring to the original Russian text, aiming to refine it for fluency, historical accuracy, and a warm, personal tone that stays true to the original.
Foreword
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE CONCERNING FATHER JOHN
In 1873 Ivan Alekseyevich Alekseyev was born to a good peasant couple living in a Tver village north of Moscow. After a simple education learned from visitors to his home, the young Ivan began searching for a monastery in which to live a life dedicated to God. At sixteen he entered Valaam Monastery. After four years at Valaam he had to leave to fulfill his four years’ term of military service in a rifle battalion. He then lived again with his family for a couple of years before returning to Valaam Monastery in 1900. Seven years later he became a member of the brotherhood; in 1910 he was accepted as a monk, being given the name Yakinf (Hyacynthos – the Greek martyr). During the next eleven years he served in various capacities at the main monastery at Valaam, in the hermitages of the prophet Elijah and of St Herman as well as in Valaam’s filial monastery in Petrograd.
In 1921 within a period of two weeks, monk Yakinf was ordained monk-deacon, then priest-monk, and sent to serve as Superior at St Tryphon Monastery in Petsamo on the Arctic coast. Eleven years later, at his own request, he returned to Valaam to head a small monastic community living on John the Baptist island. There he was consecrated to the great schema and was named John.
In 1938, on the eve of the Finnish-Russian winter war, schema-monk John was chosen by the monks to be their Father Confessor. During the war the famous old monastery at Valaam had to be hastily abandoned. The monks established a modest New Valamo at Heinävesi in Finland where schema-monk John lived until he died peacefully in his cell in 1958. New Valamo still has a few Russian monks living in it but is now becoming a Finnish-speaking community.
(Based on an introduction by Tito Colliander to the Finnish translation published by Werner Söderström in 1976.)
PREFACE
New Valamo1, 5 February 1956
My beloved children in Christ!
You have gathered my letters and wish to publish them. If you believe they will be of benefit, then collect them and publish them.
I wrote these letters at different times and to different people, so some repetition is inevitable. It would be good if I could review them myself, but that is impossible, as my ailing legs prevent me from traveling to you. Besides, I have grown feeble—I have already reached the age of eighty-three. I thank God that, although my memory is growing dull, it has not yet failed me.
I wrote my letters as the Lord placed them on my heart. By nature, I am a man of shy nature and limited mind—of this I am fully aware—and my memory is poor. I never attended school, so I wrote just as I speak.
In those days, there was no kerosene; at night, we worked in our hut by the light of a splinter2. I would watch over the fire, placing fresh splinters into the holder while embers fell into a prepared dish of water. My father plaited bast shoes3, while my mother and sister spun yarn or mended clothes. I also had two brothers.
Here is something interesting: matches did not exist. In the stove, we made a small hollow where we stored glowing coals, raking them with a poker to keep the fire alive. If the embers went out, my mother would say, "Van’ka, go to Andrei’s for some coals." So I would bring back an ember in a little pot, blow on it, place a splinter next to it—and just like that, we had fire again!
A tailor used to visit us to sew fur coats. He knew how to read and began teaching me. I was slow to understand, but my sister learned quickly and scolded me, saying, "How can you not get it? I already know the letters, and you still don’t understand!" Eventually, I too learned to read.
Once I could read, I acquired several small booklets of The Lives of the Saints. At that time, such booklets were being printed. I had a friend of like mind, and together we pondered how to be saved. We walked on foot to the Nilov Hermitage, fifteen versts4 from our home. We dried some rusks, packed it in a knapsack, and set off. We made this journey three times. We had heard that a hermitess, Matrona, lived in the woods there, but we never managed to meet her. Of course, we were quite naïve—we were only thirteen years old.
My eldest brother lived in Petrograd.5 He was a capable and smart man, owned an eating-house, and took me in. I stayed with him for a while and gradually collected more books. Once, when my brother traveled to the countryside, I set off for the Konevets Monastery. On the way, I met a fellow traveler who spoke Finnish. We did not like Konevets, so we continued our journey and arrived at Valaam. My traveling companion returned to Petrograd, but I remained on Valaam.
At that time, I was sixteen years old. My mother came to visit me. After living in the monastery for four years, I was drafted into military service. I served in a rifle regiment for four years—that was the required term. After completing my service, I lived with my father for about two years. Then, in the year 1900, I returned to Valaam for the second time. Since then, I have lived in the monastery, and never once have I considered returning to the world.
I thank the Lord that, in His mercy, He has granted me, a sinner, the grace to spend my life in the monastery. Whoever reads my letters, I humbly ask: remember me, a great sinner, in your holy prayers.
Elder of Valaam Monastery
LETTERS
Letter 1
4 August 1939
I received your esteemed letter and I see that you have begun to engage in inner spiritual life. May the Lord give you wisdom! You are right in saying that we should not expect anything from prayer. In prayer one should keep a sense of being very unworthy and if warmth and tears come, one should not think highly of oneself; let them come and go without any coercion, but do not be troubled when they disappear: it cannot be otherwise.
Prayer is the most difficult of spiritual exercises, and to our last breath it involves the labor of hard struggle. Yet the Lord in his mercy also gives comfort at times to the one who prays, so that he may not weaken. Set your own rule of your prayers yourself, according to the time available; there will be no arbitrariness in this. But I advise you not to take on much, so as not to be a slave to the rule, and not to fall into excessive zeal.
By God's mercy, as long as we live in well-being, we continue the usual monastic life. I send you God's blessing.
Letter 2
4 October 1939
It is good that you are practicing the Jesus Prayer. The Holy Fathers called prayer the queen of virtues, for it attracts other virtues too. But as high as it is, it also requires great effort. The venerable Agathon says: "Prayer, until one's last breath, is bound with the struggle of a fierce battle."
You say the prayer one hundred times morning and evening. That is enough for you, only try to do it with attention, but do not be troubled if your heart feels dry; rather, push yourself, just keeping your focus, as I told you, in the upper part of your chest. At work and with people try to stand with your mind before God, that is remember God, that He is present here. If psalms and akathists6 move you most, then read them if you have time.
We do not dare to ask the Lord for unceasing prayer of the mind in the heart, which you are striving for—it is a very rare state which hardly one in a thousand people attain, according to Isaac the Syrian, and this spiritual degree is reached by the grace of God and through deep humility.
Do not strive for warmth of heart—it comes not through seeking, but unexpectedly. In prayer our part should be to work, but success depends on grace; seek nothing more and do not be anxious. In the spiritual life, there is no place for leaps; what is required is patient gradual progress. You are still young in both body and spirit. Saint John Climacus writes: "Unfold a beginner's soul, and you will see disorder. He wants to have unceasing prayer, constant memory of death and perfect freedom from anger, but only the perfect are in that state."
The mark of prayer is in warmth and contrition of heart—to realize your nothingness and cry out to the Lord: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner," or you can pray with other words in whatever way is easiest for you.
You do not want to sin, yet you sin gravely. What can you do? Men are we, bearing the flesh, and by the devil tempted.7 Do not tremble and do not despair; when you falter in a virtue, rise, straighten up, and go forward again. Know that standing firm in virtue depends not on us, but on God's grace. Be humble and do not trust yourself until you lie in the grave, and do not judge others in anything. Whoever condemns someone for a sin will himself fall into that very sin—there is no other way.
If you ever have to be somewhat insincere for the sake of solitude, to spend time alone with yourself, this is not sinful—act wisely so that everything is for God's sake. May the Lord give you wisdom.
Letter 3
27 April 1940
I received your letter. By God’s mercy I am still alive. Though I sleep on wooden bunks, my spirit is at peace, and do not even think about Valaam—just as if I had not lived there.
I understood your letter, for it was written from your heart and I felt the force of the words.
I left Valaam calmly and bore its bombardment graciously. During the alarms, I did not run to hide in the bomb shelter, though we had one in our main church, but I sat in my cell and read the Holy Gospel. The thunder of bombs shook the building, window-panes were shattered into pieces and doors flew open, but I had an inner conviction that I would stay alive.
We had to leave Valaam in haste. Although we could take little with us, I have no regret about that, but it is a great pity that your icon, and also the one given to me with my parents’ blessing, were left hanging on the wall. I took a few books of the Holy Fathers, and that is enough.
Although you have been freed from passions, remain humble and do not trust yourself until you lie in the grave. It is our task to work for every virtue, but success depends on the grace of God, and God awards his grace not for work but for humility. The more a person humbles himself, the more grace he receives. I advise you to read St. Makarios the Great—his Five Homilies on the Purity of the Heart were printed there where you are.
Letter 4
27 July 1940
Blessed is your state if you feel poor in spirit and like a child among those who are spiritually mature. Do not envy them, nor strive after spiritual ecstasies. Mystics often seek such consolations of grace, and instead of true contemplation, fall into diabolical delusion. The Lord grants to a man a sense of grace if his heart is purified of passions. The Holy Fathers were in such a state, but we sinners ought to pray with a spirit of repentance and ask God for help in our struggle against the passions.
The Paterikon8 tells how a disciple said to a staretz9 that such-and-such a man ‘sees angels’. The staretz answered: “It is not surprising that he sees angels; I would be more amazed at someone who truly sees their own sins.” Though this saying is brief, its spiritual meaning is very deep, because nothing is so difficult as to know oneself.
You write: “The words of prayer and the Lord have become united, as if the Lord Himself is indivisibly present.” There is no error in this—indeed, it should be so.
Yes, “comfort, wealth, the love of parents, and the praise of others” are great obstacles in the spiritual life. The Holy Fathers feared these causes of sin deeply and fled from them with all their strength. It was not in vain that they withdrew to monasteries and deserts. But as for you—there is no need to flee anywhere. Rather, strive to be wise as a serpent and gentle as a dove. Everything else is temporary, emptiness, like tinsel.
One must always remember—and even convince oneself—that though not today, then tomorrow we will die, and beyond that lies eternal life, where time stands still.
Lord, have mercy.
Your age and the path you walk are slippery—be humble, and trust not in yourself until you lie in the grave.
May the Lord grant you wisdom!
Continue to pray as you are praying now. If you have the Lives of the Saints I would advise you to read them now and then. They are very inspiring and have much to teach.
With love in Christ.
Letter 5
[no date]
Thank God that He has allowed you to taste, even a little, that “the Lord is good.”10 Yes, one should not reveal one’s inner state even to a spiritual father if he is not walking the same inner path. St. Anthony the Great writes: “If you speak of spiritual matters to someone who is not spiritual, it will seem ridiculous to him.”
In my previous letter, I wrote to you about humility, and I repeat once more: “Humble yourself, my child; the enemy is very cunning, and we are very weak.”
St. Macarius the Great writes: “I have known people who were in such a state of spiritual perfection that they beheld the glory of the saints in heaven and remained in that state for six years, and—dreadful to say—they perished.”11 He also mentions some martyrs who, after enduring terrible torments, later fell.
As for the forgiveness of sins, the Holy Spirit speaks through the prophet Ezekiel: “If the wicked will turn from all his sins that he hath committed, and keep all my statutes, and do that which is lawful and right, he shall surely live, he shall not die. But when the righteous turneth away from his righteousness, and committeth iniquity, and doeth according to all the abominations that the wicked man doeth, shall he live? All his righteousness that he hath done shall not be mentioned: in his trespass that he hath trespassed, and in his sin that he hath sinned, in them shall he die.” (Ezekiel 18:21, 24)
Grow wise, my child. Be wise as a serpent, and gentle as a dove.
I receive great benefit from living in a shared space and sleeping side by side on wooden bunks. God is one, but the paths to Him are many—as we see in the lives of the Holy Fathers: some practiced the inner noetic prayer and prospered in the spiritual life, while others read many psalms, canons, and troparia12, and they too flourished spiritually.
Let me also note that the Holy Fathers write that even in the saints, natural shortcomings remain—for the sake of their humility.
To be on Tabor with the Savior is a very joyful thing, but when you must be on Golgotha—endure. Have ears to hear—listen, be attentive.
May the Lord grant you wisdom!
Letter 6
14 September 1943
Christ is in our midst!
It helps little if we only read and ask how to be saved. We must exert ourselves, work, and purify our hearts from passions. You know now what spiritual life is. Now is the time, begin, may the Lord grant you wisdom, and do not forget me in your holy prayers.
Yes, the language of St. Isaac the Syrian is difficult, but even more difficult for us is the depth of his meaning—for the well is deep, and our rope is short, and we cannot reach that deep, wondrous, saving water.
Bishop Theophan even composed a special prayer to St. Isaac, asking him to help us understand his saving teachings. In general, the Holy Fathers wrote from their own experience and from the heart—and their teachings are understood by those who are working on their own hearts.
Asking God’s blessing upon you!
Letter 7
14 August 1945
Christ is in our midst!
I received your esteemed little letter and read it with love.
It is good that you are striving for the spiritual life, but try not to quench the spirit. Though it is harder to develop spiritual life while living in the world, the Lord helps those who strive.
St John of the Ladder wonders at our strange condition: why is it that although we have the Almighty God, and the angels and holy people to help us do good, and only one cunning demon tempting us to sin, we still more easily and readily incline toward passions and vices rather than to virtue? The question remains unanswered — the saint did not wish to explain it to us.
However, one might guess that our nature, corrupted by disobedience, and the world with its many overwhelming temptations are helping the devil, and the Lord does not infringe upon our sovereign will.
We must strive toward virtue to the extent of our strength, but the ability to stand firm in virtue lies not in our power, but in the Lord’s. The Lord preserves us in virtue not because of our efforts, but because of our humility. “Where there has been a fall, pride came before it,” says John of the Ladder.
Yet the Lord, in His mercy, has granted us weak ones the gift of repentance, for our corrupted nature is deeply inclined to sin. The Holy Fathers, through their own experience, have studied the subtleties of our nature and have consoled us, laying out in detail the ways to struggle against sin in their writings. Now you have the book Unseen Warfare — look into it more often.
As for your prayer rule, arrange it yourself, but in such a way that meaning is not lost for the sake of completing the rule. Try to pray attentively. Is it not better to shorten it than to complete it in agitation and be a slave to the rule? This is not my idea, but that of Isaac the Syrian. It is also said in Unseen Warfare, I do not remember in which chapter.
Your unworthy companion in prayer
Letter 8
11 February 1946
Most Honorable in the Lord!
By God's mercy, I am in good health. After lunch, I go out to saw wood for a couple of hours. Do not be afraid that you lack reverence in prayer—it is good and beneficial that you compel yourself to pray. Take a look at the Ladder 28:29.
Do not imagine God to be very strict. He is very merciful and knows our human weaknesses. We must venerate the Holy Fathers with reverence, for they are God’s specially chosen ones. And if you are troubled by the thought that we cannot imitate them, look at the Ladder 26:125
I too desire that the Lord should count you worthy to spend the end of your life in a convent. Let us hope and pray that He will fulfil our desire. In the meantime, live with N and serve her in accordance with the fifth commandment [‘Honour your father and your mother’...]. For the monastic life store up patience, not a cartload of it, but an entire caravan.
I do not like my illiterate letters, so I wrote that you should destroy them, but if in your humility you want to keep them, let them remain with you. Write to me, don’t be shy. I shall always answer as far as the Lord gives me understanding. At times I am troubled by the thought: “Why should I, uneducated as I am, carry on correspondence with educated people?’ Let us hope that God will grant us to meet, and then we will talk.
The writings of the Holy Fathers are addressed to three degrees of spiritual perfection: infants, those in progress, and the perfect. Since you and I are likes babes, we need and can use soft food, so take from the spiritual lessons what is suited to your age.
May the Lord grant you wisdom, discern matters, and do not be troubled.
The weekly pace is lost, sorry. New letters will be added soon.
New Valamo at Heinävesi in Finland
Splinter: A thin piece of wood dipped in tallow, used as a torch.
Bast shoes: Footwear made from flexible tree bark.
Versta: A Russian unit of distance, approximately 1.07 kilometers (0.66 miles).
Petrograd: The name of Saint Petersburg from 1914 to 1924. Before 1914, it was called Saint Petersburg, and after 1924, it was renamed Leningrad.
Akathists — services consisting of songs of praise.
Человецы есмы, плоть носящие, да диаволами искушаемые.
Patericon or paterikon (Greek: πατερικόν), a short form for πατερικόν βιβλίον ("father's book", usually Lives of the Fathers in English)
A starets is an elder of an Eastern Orthodox or Eastern Catholic monastery or convent who functions as venerated adviser and teacher.
“Вкусите и видите, яко благ Господь” — O taste and see that the LORD is good. Psalm 34:8
Fifty spiritual homilies of St. Macarius the Egyptian. Homily 17:14
A troparion (Greek τροπάριον, plural: troparia, τροπάρια; Georgian: ტროპარი, tropari; Church Slavonic: тропа́рь, tropar) in Byzantine music and in the religious music of Eastern Orthodox Christianity is a short hymn of one stanza, or organised in more complex forms as series of stanzas. Canon is a liturgical form based on nine scriptural songs.