I'm not skinny, but I'm dipping.

Views of the Monastery

On our second day in Moscow we went to the Monastery with Zenia and the driver from the day before. It is 60 km from the city so we had lots of time to admire the scenery and enjoy Saturday morning traffic as everyone rushed to their Dachas for the weekend.

The Monastery is a complex of three or four churches and residences for the monks, a school, workshops, etc. It was crowed and most of the people there were not tourists but believers who had come to petition the Saint for spiritual support. Headscarves and skirts for women are expected, men keep their hats off. The church was suppressed during Soviet times and has made a huge resurgence in the last 20 years. Zenia said that “People need to believe, but no one really remembers how it is.” The monastery is dedicated to St.Sergei, who is the patron saint of Russia. There are two paths a religious man can choose: to leave the world and be a monk, or to stay in the world and be a priest. If men (or women) choose to leave the world they take vows of poverty, chastity and obedience and retire to the monastery or convent to pray. If men choose to be a priests they MUST be married before being assigned their first parish and they must have as many children as God sends to them!

On our way back to Moscow we made two stops. One was at a church that has just been restored and reopened. It was the place where the monks from the main Monastery came to retreat from life when things at the big house got too hectic. The best part about it was Zenia’s delight in finally being able to see it. Imagine being able to rediscover your heritage and getting paid for it at the same time! She took more pictures that we did.

Our second stop was at the “sacred spring” on the site of St. Sergei’s family farm. There is a church there now, of course. Zenia said, “We must dip in the holy water. You will dip in the holy water.” This did not sound like a question to me, it sounded like an imperative. It was the same way with Katia in Perm. I don’t know if it’s the language or the tone of voice or the fact that we are completely at their mercy in the depths of Russia, but these women are so decisive and commanding that I loose my ability to resist and do what I am told. Russia may have a patron saint who is male, but I think the women run the place. So, I‘m dipping. She was delighted. Apparently she always offers a dip the holy water to tourists and I was the first one to accept. I’d like to know what quality they have that I lack that gave them the power to resist her!

We walked down some steps to a creek, coming up past us were at least two bridal parties in full finery. Apparently they come here to sample the holy water on their wedding day, but I don’t think they dip! We got to a place where the access to the creek was fenced off and a couple of small groups of people were standing around. This is definitely NOT on the tourist trail! Zenia explained that we would go in in two groups (girls first, then John and Nelson) because, though it was OK to dip in a nightdress, we didn’t have such a thing, so we would have to be naked. Oh my. We must dip three times, and say a prayer of thanks.

John & Nelson after their dip!

Behind the fence was a bench, constructed like a bus stop shelter with a back wall for privacy and a roof to keep of the rain and snow. “Oh, we come here in the winter”, says Zenia, “No one ever gets a cold.” Off with the clothes. I told Zenia and the driver that where I come from in Canada we call swimming naked “skinny dipping”. “Well, I am not skinny”, she said. “But I am dipping.” Down the ladder into the creek and three times under. It was cold! . Nelson and John did their dipping too, and then we all went back to the top of the stairs and added to the blessing by having tea made with holy water! While we drank our tea we watched the wedding parties come and go and then it was back into the car to return to the city.

Perhaps we can now claim to be honorary Russians. I bought a key chain with a picture and the name of the Church of the Holy Water printed on it. I can’t read it, but I know what it means.