Two Students of Academy Take Monastic Vows

“If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me,” says the Lord, addressing His words to all who seek an ascetic life and perfection (Matt. 19:21). But for what purpose is a person called to leave everything they have? What heavenly treasure does Christ speak of? It is no coincidence that this same question troubled the Apostle Peter: “Behold, we have left everything and followed You; what then will we have?” (Matt. 19:27).

In his renowned work The Ladder of Divine Ascent, Saint John, Abbot of Mount Sinai, reflects on the purpose of monastic endeavor, writing that a monk is called to acquire three virtues in their heart: faith, hope, and love. Saint John elevates this trinity of virtues to the highest rung of the spiritual ladder. Only by attaining faith, hope, and love does a person become supremely happy, for they have become like God Himself. The vanity of the world deprives a Christian of the opportunity to abide continually with God. This is precisely why those who yearn for union with the Creator don monastic robes, take vows, and take up the cross of an “otherworldly” monastic life. 

On the evening of March 28, the academic community gathered in the Trinity Cathedral of the Lavra, near the relics of Saint Sergius, to witness a spiritual birth. Two students of the Moscow Theological Academy, Alexey Proshkin and Ilya Simulik, received the monastic tonsure. Today, they have stood at the foot of the spiritual ladder leading to God—a ladder whose ascent will become the work of their entire lives. The tonsure was performed by the Abbot of the Trinity Monastery and Rector of the Academy, Bishop Kirill of Sergiev Posad and Dmitrov. 

As a sign of new life and spiritual rebirth, a new name is given during the tonsure. Alexey received the name Ioann (John) in honor of Saint John of the Ladder. Ilya received the name Luka (Luke) in honor of Saint Luke, Archbishop of Crimea. 

Monastic brethren of the Academy, teachers, students of the theological school, and the relatives of the newly tonsured came to pray for the new monks Ioann and Luka.

After the tonsure, Bishop Kirill addressed the monks Ioann and Luka with a word of exhortation:

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. We congratulate you, dear brothers, newly tonsured monks Ioann and Luka, on receiving the angelic rank. Brother Ioann was named after the ancient ascetic Saint John of the Ladder, whose week is approaching and who serves as an example for all monastics. Through his Ladder, the saint instructs us in spiritual ascent, vigilance, caution, diligence, and many other virtues. Brother Luka received the name of the renowned saint and confessor of the 20th century—Saint Luke (Voino-Yasenetsky)—who miraculously combined two ministries: medical and archpastoral. He was a confessor who fearlessly bore witness to his faith amid the harshest persecutions, mockery, and contempt. May your patrons assist you, together with those saints whom we constantly invoke.

Let us recall how, many centuries ago, here in this very place, Saint Sergius, the Abbot of the Russian land, received his monastic tonsure. In an empty, desolate forest, where there were no people, he faced a great struggle—both physical and spiritual. Having withdrawn from this world, Saint Sergius became a great pillar and foundation for the spiritual life of an entire nation. His example reminds us, in this challenging age of vanity and informational chaos, where every Christian—and especially a monastic—can find the source of strength: in the solitude of the cell, in temple prayer, enduring the struggle that is inevitable for every person, and particularly for a monastic. This is the narrow path that a Christian, a monk, must follow, striving to focus their mind, purify their soul and heart through long hours, days, and years, never ceasing to believe that this path carries a special blessing. No one from that era is as renowned as Saint Sergius, though people took pride in their knowledge, abilities, power, and achievements. A man who retreated into the depths of the forest became a spiritual leader for an entire era and remains so for us to this day.

The space of the modern world is filled with the vanity of thoughts, images, pictures, and empty words. In the virtual world, a person sometimes feels they are living a full life, but in reality, their soul becomes filled with rubbish, leaving nothing in their heart but dirt and sin.

Gazing upon the holy tomb with the relics of Saint Sergius, we call down God’s blessing upon you and pray that you may endure all the difficulties and hardships of life. May your life in the Church truly become a glorification of the Lord and Savior Himself, the Holy Trinity, and our Church in these challenging times when, though people come to the churches, they are still only a small fraction of those we could call, support, and help. 

The first part of your journey must be a gathering of your strength, but this gathering will serve for your salvation and for all those you encounter on your path of service to God and the Church. Understanding that this ladder of spiritual ascent spans our entire lives, let us realize that we can never breathe a sigh of relief and say, ‘Now I can calmly assess my earthly path; I’ve accomplished something, thank God.’ Let us strive to maintain the disposition of spirit that Christ Himself commanded: ‘When you have done all that you were commanded, say, “We are unworthy servants”’ (Luke 17:10). Here is the simple Gospel image of the sower who sows, labors, and does all that is necessary in the field, yet understands that if God does not grant the right weather, all his efforts may come to nothing and bear no fruit. So it is with a Christian, an ascetic, a monk. In our time, when everyone knows everything about everyone, a person often cannot hide. Yet hiding from oneself is also difficult. In times past, thousands of monks labored in deserts and forests. If someone accomplished a significant feat, they understood that there were other monks, and even laypeople, who had achieved even more. But now, if a monk undertakes even a small effort, it may seem to them that there are no such ascetics or laborers around: ‘Perhaps I’m already someone special.’ Here it is crucial to preserve the virtue that Saint Ignatius (Brianchaninov) teaches us about. He says that for monks—and indeed for all Christians, but especially for monks—the virtue of spiritual poverty is essential, where a person does not judge themselves or, more precisely, gives the lowest assessment of all their labors, realizing that none of us can offer God a pure gift. In all our deeds, some sin or deceit is mixed in. Even if not during the act itself, afterward there comes a subtle temptation that a person may not even notice. Yet inevitably, the worm of sin is present in every deed, both internal and external. This is why the holy fathers taught that repentance must be the breath of a monk, the breath of every Christian. I repeat intentionally: both monk and Christian, because monks are those who have striven to preserve the zeal of the first Christians. 

In striving to remain faithful to Christ’s commandments, let us not forget the commandment of spiritual poverty. All our labors, if we have managed to do something valuable or important, let us attribute to God’s help—for this is the truth. By our foolishness, a person may attribute something to themselves. An elder of Mount Athos once said: ‘If you did something without using your hands, feet, or head, then it’s yours; but God gave you your hands, feet, head, and heart—you didn’t create them yourself. You are obligated to use them for God’s glory.’ Often, it’s evident that, deceived by cunning thoughts and spirits, a Christian thinks they’ve accomplished something, when in reality they’re like a tenth-grader boasting that they’ve learned to read syllables. By tenth grade, they should have achieved far more, yet they don’t even realize it. They take pride in what they should be ashamed of. May God grant that this does not happen to us in your monastic life. This is why we wear black garments—a mourning for our soul, which has rightfully lost paradise due to our sins. We must hold this thought in our minds. Often, a person thinks narrowly: either they consider themselves a grievous sinner or a righteous person. But both are falsehoods. In each of us, as Saint Macarius the Great symbolically suggests, there are 100 rooms—some filled with light, others with darkness. Sometimes it seems to a person that they are entirely in light, but the darkness hiding in a few rooms goes unnoticed. To another, it seems they are entirely in darkness, yet the light remaining within them is also unseen. Both states are exceedingly dangerous. We must always remember that both are present, and our long life’s journey is given to us to know ourselves, to repent deeply before God for the madness that afflicts all humanity—attributing something to ourselves while forgetting the darkness and gloom dwelling in our inner world—and to learn to truly thank God, which is possible only through sincere repentance.

Most people, unfortunately, live so narrowly: they recognize their sins to the weight of 5 grams and perhaps God’s mercy to 5 or 10 grams more. The great saints of God comprehended an ocean of their transgressions and the boundless, infinite mercy of God. Their souls contemplated the mysteries of this world and became impregnable to petty, empty vanity and the foolish passions that, sadly, drive and sustain most of humanity, even Christians. 

Let us strive, dear brothers, not for our own glory but for the glory of Christ, to labor for the salvation of souls and to serve the Russian Church with our thoughts, feelings, and deeds all the days of our lives. Amen.”

Background information:

The hymns of the monastic tonsure rite were performed by the 1st Academic Choir under the direction of E.V. Borovinsky. 

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