By Archimandrite Athenagoras Soupourtzis,
Professor of Ecclesiastical and Canon Law, Volyn Academy of Theology
Professor of Ecclesiastical and Canon Law, Volyn Academy of Theology
On June 18, 1942, exactly 84 years ago, hundreds of SS men surrounded an Orthodox church in Prague.
The battle that followed lasted for hours. None of the seven resistance fighters hiding in the crypt surrendered.
The story that led to that day, and the ethos of the Church that defined it, deserves to be brought back to memory.
When resistance against Nazism is discussed, historical memory usually turns to the military operations of the Allies, the resistance movements, and the governments that continued the struggle from exile.
Far less well known is the contribution of certain ecclesiastical communities, which chose to defend human dignity at the cost even of the lives of their pastors.
Perhaps the most characteristic example is the Autocephalous Orthodox Church of the Czech Lands and Slovakia.
One of the smaller autocephalous Orthodox Churches, with a small flock and a small Holy Synod, nevertheless gave one of the most important testimonies of resistance against Nazi totalitarianism.
In December 1941, Czechoslovak paratroopers, selected by the Czechoslovak government-in-exile in London and trained by British special forces, secretly returned to their occupied homeland.
Two of them, Jozef Gabčík and Jan Kubiš, had been assigned the mission of eliminating Reinhard Heydrich, one of the principal organizers of the Nazi machinery of repression and of the Holocaust. The operation became known as Operation Anthropoid.
On May 27, 1942, the two men attacked Heydrich in the streets of Prague; he succumbed to his wounds several days later, on June 4.
The paratroopers being hunted did not seek refuge in a military unit or in some political network; they found it in the Orthodox Cathedral of Saints Cyril and Methodios.
There, under the responsibility of Bishop Gorazd and the priest Vladimir Petřek, clergy and laity of the Orthodox Church hid seven resistance fighters for weeks in the church crypt, knowing that their discovery would mean certain death.
When a traitor revealed the hiding place, on June 18, 1942, the church was surrounded by hundreds of SS men.
Three of the paratroopers fell fighting inside the church.
The remaining four, trapped in the crypt, chose to end their own lives rather than be captured and betray those who had helped them.
Bishop Gorazd personally assumed responsibility. In a letter to the German authorities, he attempted to spare his flock from reprisals.
He was arrested, tortured, and executed on September 4, 1942, together with close associates, among them the priest Vladimir Petřek, the priest Václav Čikl, and the chairman of the church council, Jan Sonnevend.
The Church later proclaimed him a Holy New Martyr, in 1987, and he is annually commemorated on September 4th.
The price, however, was not limited to these individuals.
In retaliation, the Nazi authorities dissolved the entire Orthodox Church in the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia: worship was prohibited, its property was confiscated, and its clergy were persecuted.
This small Church found itself, in practice, on the side of the European anti-Nazi resistance and the Allies — not because it had adopted some geopolitical position, but because its Christian conscience did not permit it to hand over people who were struggling against a criminal totalitarian regime.
This stance constitutes one of the most characteristic expressions of Orthodox ecclesiology.
Gorazd was not an isolated exception, but a representative of a consistent ecclesiastical ethos, which was repeatedly confirmed in different countries and under different circumstances.
In Greece, in March 1943, Archbishop Damaskinos of Athens and All Greece publicly rose up against the deportation of the Greek Jews, while the Metropolitan of Zakynthos, Chrysostomos, shortly afterward refused to hand over the lists of the Jewish community, thereby saving it intact.
In Bulgaria, during the same period, the Metropolitans Stephen of Sofia and Cyril of Plovdiv firmly opposed the deportations, contributing to the rescue of thousands.
In Serbia, as early as 1941, numerous clergy and several hierarchs suffered persecution and martyrdom.
In all these cases the same principle applies: the bishop does not abandon his flock, nor does he sacrifice human dignity for reasons of self-preservation.
Responsibility toward the human person takes precedence over personal interest, even over life itself.
Today, the crypt of the church has been transformed into a museum of remembrance.
The traces of German bullets are still visible on its walls, reminding us that the freedom of Europe was also written with the blood of Orthodox clergy and faithful.
At a time when Europe is once again seeking the foundations of its historical memory, the example of Prague acquires particular significance.
It demonstrates that Orthodoxy was not merely a spectator to the twentieth century.
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
In Greece, in March 1943, Archbishop Damaskinos of Athens and All Greece publicly rose up against the deportation of the Greek Jews, while the Metropolitan of Zakynthos, Chrysostomos, shortly afterward refused to hand over the lists of the Jewish community, thereby saving it intact.
In Bulgaria, during the same period, the Metropolitans Stephen of Sofia and Cyril of Plovdiv firmly opposed the deportations, contributing to the rescue of thousands.
In Serbia, as early as 1941, numerous clergy and several hierarchs suffered persecution and martyrdom.
In all these cases the same principle applies: the bishop does not abandon his flock, nor does he sacrifice human dignity for reasons of self-preservation.
Responsibility toward the human person takes precedence over personal interest, even over life itself.
Today, the crypt of the church has been transformed into a museum of remembrance.
The traces of German bullets are still visible on its walls, reminding us that the freedom of Europe was also written with the blood of Orthodox clergy and faithful.
At a time when Europe is once again seeking the foundations of its historical memory, the example of Prague acquires particular significance.
It demonstrates that Orthodoxy was not merely a spectator to the twentieth century.
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
