January: Day 9: Teaching 2: Saint Philip, Metropolitan of Moscow

 

January: Day 9: Teaching 2:
Saint Philip, Metropolitan of Moscow
 
(Cherish the Truth)

By Archpriest Grigory Dyachenko

I. Saint Philip, Metropolitan of Moscow, whose memory we celebrate today, came from the noble boyar family of the Kolychevs. He was born in Moscow in 1507 and in the world bore the name Theodore. His parents were distinguished by piety and compassion for the unfortunate; these good qualities they succeeded in instilling in their son, who even in his youth was marked by a religious disposition of soul. At first Theodore lived at the court of the Grand Prince Vasily Ivanovich, but after his death, in his thirtieth year of life, he resolved to leave the world and secretly, in simple peasant clothing, departed from Moscow for the Solovetsky Monastery. For a year and a half Theodore carried out various heavy obediences in the monastery: he chopped wood, dug the garden soil, worked at the mill and at fishing. Tonsured with the name Philip, nine years after entering the monastery he was unanimously elected by all the monks to be abbot.

Many labors and cares awaited Philip in the monastery, but he was tireless. Under Philip numerous buildings were erected, a mill was built, agriculture was improved, and many marshy places were drained. All his property, received from his relatives, Philip used for the improvement of the monastery. Caring that the monks should lead a truly Christian way of life, Philip wrote a rule in which he prescribed constant diligence; and he accepted into the monastery only those who sincerely desired to devote themselves to the service of God.

The fame of Philip’s virtues reached Tsar Ivan Vasilyevich the Terrible, and in 1566 he summoned him to Moscow, having decided to make him Metropolitan. By that time a great change had already occurred in the tsar. His wife Anastasia, who had had a good influence on him, had died; the tsar’s wise advisers, the boyar Adashev and the priest Sylvester, had been removed, and their place had been taken by courtiers who strove to fulfill every whim of Ivan, however evil and immoral it might be. Constantly suspecting his subjects of malicious intentions, Ivan resolved to choose for himself special bodyguards, whom he called oprichniki. These favorites of the tsar, enjoying his special trust, could rob, oppress, and kill people; complaints against them were usually left without consequence.

Philip saw how dangerous and difficult the position of Metropolitan was under such a tsar, but at the persuasion of bishops and boyars he resolved to accept the high office for the benefit of the fatherland. At first the service of the hierarch was not without good results: Ivan seemed gentler in his dealings with his subjects, and complaints against the oprichniki ceased. But peace and quiet did not last long. Ivan’s favorites, dissatisfied with Philip, began to slander him to the tsar. The suspicious tsar believed the calumnies and renewed executions and tortures. Philip vainly tried to influence him.

“Sovereign,” he said, “you are surrounded by people who deceive you. Cast away from yourself slanderers and flatterers.” Ivan, displeased with the hierarch’s interference, threatened him with wrath and deprivation of rank. Philip meekly replied: “I did not beg you nor send intercessors to accept this authority; why then did you call me from the wilderness? I must always speak the truth to you, even if for this I should have to lay down my life.”

Meanwhile, those persecuted by Ivan sought consolation and protection from Philip, and he took the warmest part in their fate. This circumstance irritated Ivan still more.

On one of the Sundays, when the Metropolitan was celebrating the liturgy in the Dormition Cathedral, Ivan entered it with the oprichniki; all of them together with the tsar were in black garments, in tall caps, and armed. Ivan approached Philip and awaited his blessing, but Philip, fixing his gaze on the icon of the Savior, seemed not to notice the tsar. At last the oprichniki said to him: “Master! The sovereign stands before you — bless him!” Then, turning his gaze to Ivan, the hierarch replied: “In this strange attire I do not recognize the Orthodox tsar; nor do I recognize him in the deeds of his kingdom. O sovereign! Here we offer to God a bloodless sacrifice, but behind the altar innocent Christian blood is being shed. Everywhere murders are heard of, and everywhere they are committed in your name. You are high upon the throne, but you are also a man, and you will have to give God an answer for your deeds.”

Ivan fell into great rage and, with terrible threats, left the church, having resolved to destroy the hierarch. Summoning the bishops, Ivan forced them to acknowledge Philip unworthy of the sacred rank. Learning of this, Philip voluntarily returned to the tsar the white cowl and the mantle — the signs of his office — and asked permission to withdraw into seclusion. But Ivan wished to take solemn revenge on Philip for the public rebukes and ordered him to await the final sentence.

On November 8 the hierarch was preparing to celebrate the liturgy in the Dormition Cathedral; suddenly the tsar’s favorite Basmanov appeared in the church with oprichniki and announced to the people that Philip had been deprived of the sacred rank by a council of clergy. Then the oprichniki removed his vestments, put poor clothing on him, and led him out of the church. The people accompanied their beloved Metropolitan with tears, while he comforted and blessed everyone. Chained, the hierarch was taken to the Theophany Monastery, where for seven days he remained without food. Learning that the inhabitants of Moscow stood around the monastery from morning till evening, Ivan ordered him to be transferred to the Otroch Monastery in Tver. Philip endured many sufferings on the journey: his worn clothing poorly protected him from the cold, for several days he was given no food, and the guards treated him roughly.

In 1569, setting out on a campaign against Novgorod, Ivan remembered that Philip was still alive and sent to him the worst of the oprichniki, Malyuta Skuratov, as if for a blessing. The hierarch replied that he blesses only the good for good deeds, and, guessing the purpose of the mission, said: “I have long been expecting death; may the will of the Lord be done.” And the vile murderer strangled Philip, telling the abbot that he had died from fumes

II. Such, brethren, is the lot of the heralds of truth, the preachers of righteousness, and the reprovers of human lawlessness.

The heart trembles when one imagines all this. And yet all this was. And above all, is not something similar being repeated even today among us? Are those who speak the truth to us without reserve loved by us? On the contrary, are not such people among us also regarded as troublesome people, as people intolerable in society, as people who must be driven away and oppressed in every way, who at all costs must be forced to be silent — though silence for them is impossible? Does not the saying, “Live by the truth, and you will make enemies,” prove true even now?

Yes, it is difficult even today for a truthful person to live in the world, and especially for one who by the very nature of his service is “obliged” to teach, to reprove, to exhort, to forbid. He begins to fulfill his duty conscientiously, and immediately a whole crowd of the dissatisfied rises against him. And if he does not fulfill his duty as he should, the Lord cries out after him: “Their blood I will require at your hand” (Ezek. 3:17). On both sides it is constricting.

How then are we to be, and what are we to do, brethren?

a) To those among us I address myself who, like us, are called in one capacity or another to serve society. To us who are thus appointed, let Saint Philip, my friends, serve as an example: “it is better to lose one’s head than even once in life to allow oneself to bend one’s conscience” and betray one’s direct duty. Let them curse us, let them revile us and slander us — we shall endure everything magnanimously. Strict, unfeigned truth is the crown of all. Let us cherish it.

b) Cherish it also you, who are more often required not so much to speak the truth as to listen to it from others. Let “the truth sting the eyes” and always be more or less unpleasant to everyone, but what then? How otherwise will our correction proceed, if we do not listen but persecute those who speak the truth to us? And in general, is it reasonable on our part to be angry with those who speak the truth to us? Reflect: for what purpose is the truth, spoken to us openly, especially by those appointed to this by the Lord, spoken? That we might correct ourselves at least somewhat. Consequently, not wanting to know or hear the word of truth from others means not wanting correction, not wanting others to wish us good. Moreover, let the word of truth fall silent in us and about us: will our life truly then flow peacefully? You are mistaken, beloved. The human word will fall silent, but God’s will not. And do you know how God speaks His word about people? Have you any notion of widespread diseases, crop failures, fires, and the like? These are examples of God’s speech.

III. Judge now, which is better: to listen to human reproof and correct oneself, or to wait for and desire instruction directly from the Lord Himself? Amen.

 

Source: A Complete Annual Cycle of Short Teachings, Composed for Each Day of the Year. Translated by John Sanidopoulos.