"As a child, I dreamed of becoming a saint": How the children of priests live
In the life of priests there restrictions that which often concern and close. Their families are by definition more "traditional." However, there are many myths around church-going families — as if they couldn’t do anything mundane, for example, live fun. We talked with people who grew up in families of Orthodox priests, about how their childhood passed, what their parents forbade them and how their religious education affected their future.
Julia Dudkina
Sergei
(name changed)
As a child, we went to work every Sunday, and often on Saturday evenings. From that time I had pleasant memories of the temple: there were beautiful vestments, something mysterious was happening. In addition, children are usually allowed forward, to the altar itself. We went to one of the oldest parishes in Moscow, where my father serves. This temple is not very remarkable in architectural terms, but it is important for the history of Moscow, it is a prayer place.
Of course, I knew that dad had an unusual profession. Previously, he often walked along the street in the cassock. Then, in my childhood, I felt awkward because of this. I understood that we are in many ways different from most other families: we did not have a television set, I didn’t understand the peer talk about games and consoles. My family and I often read together a brief version of the evening prayer rule. Several times the pope tried to introduce the tradition of reading the Gospel in the evenings, but it never caught on. But in the evenings, he always read us aloud books — mostly Russian literature of the 19th century.
I studied in an Orthodox school, and all my close friends were from church-going families — this was a specific circle of the Moscow Orthodox intelligentsia. I did not understand the whole social context, but I felt that my friends and I were not like everyone else. Sometimes it was unpleasant, and sometimes, less often, it caused a feeling of pride. At the same time, in unchurched companies, I was often ashamed to say that my father is a priest.
In the Orthodox school there was a lot of what seemed to me stupid, wrong or vile, to some teachers I would forbid pedagogical activity. At least in this school I did not have to worry about my identity. With many of my classmates, I'm still friends.
At some point, I had a strong rejection of the entire administrative structure of the ROC. Everyone knows about the patriarch and Mercedes watches. By virtue of origin, I know a little more about the internal kitchen of this structure and I understand that it is still worse than it looks from the outside. But I always realized that it was all superficial and not related to existential issues.
I have never had a riot against religion as such. I was lucky in my teens to read The Brothers Karamazov, Lewis, Russian religious philosophers of the 20th century. I realized that you can be a smart, subtle, deep and uncompromising person and at the same time a real Christian. In addition, I was never forced to go to church or do something specifically Orthodox. Parents understood that forcing children to believe in God is the best way to make them atheists. In the end, I had no reason to rebel.
Of course, we had religious and philosophical disputes. I asked my dad questions that seemed to be tricky for me: about free will, about predestination, about why God allows evil, about homosexuality. We discussed all this in detail. My father explained much to me, and in some cases I destroyed all his arguments and he actually had to admit that I was right.
As for the prohibitions, in important matters I had a lot of freedom: for example, I myself chose where and what I would learn. But in everyday life I was strongly controlled, and at the first opportunity I moved away from my parents. Since then, we communicate normally. At one time, my dad had a phobia about sex before marriage, but in that sense I rather quickly disappointed him. Otherwise, the pope often reminded me that he is a priest and I must behave accordingly. But this “appropriately” is not particularly beyond what parents usually say to children.
I am currently working as an editor. My lifestyle doesn't quite match the way my parents live. I do not keep my posts well, I don’t often go to church and take Communion (although I do it more or less regularly). I sometimes smoke weed and can get very drunk - they don’t really like it, of course, but it doesn’t cause strong negative emotions either. I communicate rather well with my parents, although I don’t tell them everything. But this is definitely not the worst relationship with parents in the world.
Nastya
When I was little, my parents and I moved from Moscow to the village: my father was sent there to restore the destroyed temple. Our own house was three minutes from the church, and I have been there all the time since I was a child, and at seven years old I started singing in the choir. Next to our house there was a department for social service, and there were held activities for parish children: circles, classes. Before school, my friends and I went to preparatory courses, and there we were very well prepared to study. I even immediately entered the second grade, although I was only six years old.
At school it was hard. Classmates laughed at me. I repeated what I was taught at home: as if God gives children to people and he created all living things. And they said that children are born from the contact of a man and a woman, and man is descended from a monkey. Now I understand that their point of view was scientific. But then I was very upset, it seemed to me that I could not tell them the truth.
I always went in a long skirt, and they pulled me for it or dragged my braids. Once, several people attacked me and tried to undress. Because of the bullying, I felt uncomfortable in my clothes, but I could not change into pants. I was told from childhood that this is unacceptable, because the Bible says that a woman should not wear men's clothes. As a result, for the first time in my life, I went out in jeans only last year. In the sixth grade, due to bullying at school, I switched to home schooling. At twelve, I almost ceased to walk on the street with my peers. Dad said: "I haven't walked around at twelve years old." I began to cook for the whole family, to help with washing and ironing. Mom was seriously ill, so I took on a lot of things.
There was one tough ban in the family - disobedience. Up to the age of fourteen I was regularly punished with a belt. “Stupidity has become attached to the heart of the young man, but the correctional rod will remove it from him,” the Old Testament said. This means that children should be punished until they broke wood. My parents greatly respected the Old Testament, so if I went for a walk without asking or did not put any things in place, I would be punished. Of course, it was impossible to drink alcohol and enter into a romantic relationship. You could only “get to know each other within reasonable limits” with the guys - that is, without physical contact and preferably under supervision. One day at fifteen, my parents found out that I was walking with one boy. They said: "We will put you in different corners of the room, and your brother will sit in the middle. So communicate." I still continued to see him - pretended that I was going to ride a bike alone, while I was walking with a guy.
I was not allowed to start a page in social networks. Sometimes one of my friends created an account for me, but my mother found out about it and made me delete it. She said that on the Internet you can get bad things. Now, when I try to tell her about my views on life, she says that I "got it on social networks." She does not like it when I say that men and women are equal, and divorce is the free choice of any woman. They believe that you should not divorce your husband, even if he hits you - this is permissible only if there is a threat to children.
Up to twelve or thirteen years, it did not seem to me that punishment and prohibitions were normal. I liked going to church, and I even dreamed of becoming a saint. I took Orthodox education for granted. But then our relationship with our parents became strained. The fact is that since childhood I went to my father's confession and theoretically this should not happen. But in our village besides him there were only two priests, and he did not get along with them, therefore I should not go to them either. And now, at about thirteen, I had thoughts and secrets that I didn’t want to tell dad. I began to hide something, and he told me that my confession had become of the same type and incomplete. Now I did not like everything related to the church.
As a child, I thought that I would marry, have children and would work in a church — my parents approved such a plan. But at the age of fourteen I stated that I did not want my husband to be, but I wanted to build a career. About then we began to constantly quarrel and argue. I had a musical talent, and I wanted to go to another city to a music school, but my mother insisted that I stay. She did not want me to live in a dormitory, because there "there are bad stories." In the end, I spent three years studying for a nurse, and then dropped the case and went to study as a programmer.
Now I live in another city and go to a psychologist. Apparently, I am in adolescence in chronic depression. I think this is because I have lived since childhood with a sharp sense of guilt - it always appeared when I behaved "not Christian" or not like a "good daughter." I tried to discuss my emotional problems and memories of childhood with my mother. But every time she began to cry, to say that she "did everything possible", and now I blame her. So now I'm just trying to accept everything as it is and try not to interfere with my family.
I come to my parents twice a year for the holidays. Often it seems to me that dad looks at me with sadness and reproach. He said that children should be the continuation of their parents, but I did not at all become their continuation - and I chose for myself a completely different life than what I was prepared for.
Michael
My dad became a clergyman when he was already over forty - he worked as a doctor, was a fully mature and accomplished person. Prior to that, he was always interested in philosophy and world religions. He and his mother had many encyclopedias, they thoughtfully approached questions of faith, looked for themselves, and eventually came to Orthodoxy. When I was little, my family and I went to church on weekends and church holidays. Once, when I was seven or eight years old, my father came home and told me that the archpriest had suggested he become a priest. He agreed.
After dad ordinance ordination, he went to serve in the village church, and we went with him. Of course, my childhood was something unusual. The profession of parents always leaves an imprint: for example, children of musicians from an early age can play tunes on the piano. From childhood I knew how voices were sung, I could read Church Slavonic, I understood how services were arranged.
There are always not enough people in the village churches, so I helped my father. I had a sugar stick - a vestment that looks like a dress. During the service I offered my censer to my father, accompanied him with a candle in my hands. In general, he played the role of an altar boy - a lay person who helps a priest. Becoming older, I began to sing in the choir and recite prayers. On the one hand, I was a little tired, for a twelve-year-old child a three-hour service can be hard. On the other - I liked to sing, I liked the beauty and theatricality of the rites. Now, when I find myself in the temple, I feel calm and peaceful - as in childhood.
At home, we observed all church traditions and rituals. We kept all the posts, on Christmas Eve we fasted more strictly than usual. Many people, even those who consider themselves believers, are guessing on Christmas Eve, but I knew from childhood that this was a pagan custom, and I never did it. Even though we were fasting, I never felt deprived of anything: the houses were cereals, nuts, fruits. Parents could buy me a bitter chocolate bar. Sometimes there was grief. For example, when, in Holy Week, my parents hinted to me that now is not the time to go to some entertainment show. But at the same time I always knew: fasting is the science of self-restraint. This is what we do for ourselves, not so that God will not be angry.
Interestingly, church upbringing taught me non-conformism. Since childhood, I have seen that I am different from classmates at school. I thought a lot about conscience and morality. I was taught that you have to be kind, because it saves my soul, and to save myself, I save others. Of course, few of my peers thought about this. I knew from my childhood that being different and having my own opinion is not at all bad. I was never afraid to be different. However, precisely because of this in adolescence, we had disagreements with our parents. When I became interested in rock music, they didn’t like it very much, they hinted that it didn’t correspond to the Orthodox upbringing. But they themselves taught me non-conformism, so I did not agree with them. However, it seems to me that such differences with parents are not only in religious families. This is a generational conflict that could happen and not on the basis of religion.
At sixteen, I entered the music college and moved away from my parents. At this age, for some time I lost interest in the church — I was seized by a high life. But then I realized that it is not necessary to choose one thing: you can be a believer and play rock music, go to parties. In some ways, I rethought parental education, I refused from some rigid rules. For example, in Orthodoxy it is considered that it is a sin to play in a theater. But after the music college, I still entered the theater institute. For myself, I realized that from the stage you can bring people good, to teach good is like a sermon. The parents also accepted my choice and were glad that I found the business to my liking.
I am still in church now, and I remember my childhood as happy. For some, my dad was primarily a priest, and for me - an ordinary person. By the way, I noticed that in the church many parishioners are afraid of the priests or behave with some servility. I have no such thing: I can calmly speak with any priest and disagree with him in some way.
Kristina
(name changed)
I grew up in the family of the archpriest and at school I always felt that I was different from my classmates. I was very modest, never swearing. If I was offended, I did not respond with aggression to aggression, I knew that this was not Christian. From childhood I was taught what is good and what is bad, according to the Orthodox commandments. Sometimes the guys in the class made fun of me, but it didn't seem to me that something was wrong with me. I liked myself so calm and harmless.
In adolescence, classmates awoke sexual interest, they began to constantly discuss various vulgarities: porn movies, some kind of vulgarism. More girls were fond of clothes and cosmetics, but it did not interest me at all, so I did not particularly communicate with classmates. But in Sunday school I was really interested. My parents and I lived in a small town, and the church parish was small. All the children of the parishioners knew each other and went to classes together. We played with them, talked about books and films. We all had the same upbringing, and we understood each other. In Sunday school, I met real friends with whom I still constantly communicate. We can say we all grew up with them at the church.
In childhood, we were told in the class how the saints lived, rehearsed Bible stories, sometimes there were games and quizzes with sweet prizes. When we grew up a bit, the lessons became more serious: the abbot of the temple taught us the history of religion and liturgics. In liturgy, we studied how the church service is arranged, at what point different chants are sung and why they are needed. On the history of religion we were told about the origins of various religions - not only Christianity, but also Judaism, Hinduism and others. I liked this subject the most.
At Sunday school there was a tourist club, clubs, summer camps. We went there families: parishioners, children, friends of children. Camps were set up in nature near monasteries: adults simply rested, and the children had detachments and counselors, as in a regular camp. Once a week, each detachment went to weed the monastic garden. For this, we were treated to cheese or blanks from the monastic cuisine, in the evening we ate it by the fire and sang songs with a guitar. I went to the usual summer camps, not Christian. But there I always felt lonely, I wanted to go home. In the Sunday School camps, I knew that there were friends by my side.
Now many of those with whom we went to Sunday school, grew up and went away to study in different cities. But we continue to communicate on the Internet, and several times a year we meet in our church for festive meals. Ordinary meals are held every Sunday after the service - parishioners gather around a large table, eat, communicate. But twice a year - after Christmas and Easter - special, large meals are served. All who have traveled to different cities, try to come to come to the temple and meet at the table.
There were no serious restrictions in my life. My parents and I kept the fasting, but me and the brothers were not forced to keep a strict fast - we ate dairy products and eggs. They refused only meat, and in the most strict posts - cartoons on weekdays. У людей много предрассудков по поводу семей священников. Меня иногда спрашивают: "А тебе можно носить джинсы?" Конечно, можно, кто мне запретит? И мама моя их тоже носит. Если я шла в гости к друзьям, меня спокойно отпускали. В семнадцать-восемнадцать лет я вполне могла выпить немного алкоголя в гостях, и мне никто ничего не говорил по этому поводу. Родители доверяли мне и знали, что я не натворю лишнего.
Our family has always lived very friendly. Dad is fond of board games, and in the evenings we could play some long board games for several hours. With my mother, I could always discuss anything. Even if I knew that I did not do well, I could count on her understanding.
I did not meet guys, but not because of some prohibitions, but simply because it did not work out. But for example, my fifteen-year-old brother has a girlfriend, and no one is against their relationship. But I have my own convictions on that. I believe that you should not live together and engage in physical closeness outside of marriage. I think this is reasonable: the haste in some matters reflects badly on the relations of many couples. It seems to me that people who need relationships for the sake of relationships begin to live together outside of marriage. I value my soul too much to waste it.
Now I live separately from my parents, but I continue to go to church and read prayers. My beliefs have not changed, and I still try to observe Christian morality. Once a man told me nasty things, and I told him nasty things in response. Most people will think that this is a completely normal reaction, but I was very unpleasant because of my own behavior, and I did not get any satisfaction from my aggression. I believe that Christianity is a very peaceful religion. When you want to quarrel with someone, to offend a person, you think: "But this is not Christian." This often saves from conflicts and big troubles.
Lydia
(name changed)
My dad has always been a keen person. His parents are atheists, and when at the age of twenty-five he discovered Orthodoxy, this was something new and surprising to him. He dropped out and decided to become a priest. As it is known, the father must necessarily have a mother, that is, it was necessary to get married. Dad met his mother - a very religious woman. They instantly got married, and a year later I was born. I suspect that my father has got a family first of all in order to get a dignity. By itself, family life was hardly interested in him - he had not even met his mother from the hospital when I was born.
Like many people who got married very quickly, my parents soon realized that they did not fit each other in character. When I was little, they constantly quarreled, reaching even fights. There was a period when my father did not live with us at all. But all conflicts were kept in strict secret, in public mom and dad pretended that everything was in order. You shouldn't file a divorce for a divorce, and my mother thinks that you cannot divorce her husband. So, despite the disagreements, they eventually converged again. I don’t know if there is love and mutual understanding between them - as far as I can remember, they often quarreled. However, I did not see them hugging or holding hands.
The only question in which the parents were unanimous was my upbringing. From the first class I was home schooled: mom and dad thought that “modern children” would have a bad effect on me. I was taken to church for all services. I didn’t like it, it was hard to stand for a long time, and I was also forced to be baptized and bowed. At the same time, as the daughter of a priest, I had to smile at church workers and parishioners with whom the pope was friendly. They were unpleasant to me, and I had to pretend.
My sexual maturation was a very sensitive issue for our family. Since childhood, I was inspired that the relationship with the guys - it's bad, dirty and indecent. Once, at the age of fifteen, I was at the teacher and was a bit late to talk with her daughters. They watched a youth series where American teenage girls met up with guys. I watched and thought: "How cool!" I also wanted so much. Once in a conversation with my mother, I cautiously spoke about the fact that some girls at my age are walking with boys. She shouted "You are not thinking about that!", Called me a slag - she used this word often. As a result, I began to feel constant shame for my own sexual interest in young people. Because of this, it is still difficult for me to build a romantic relationship.
Particularly painful to such issues related dad. The idea that I might have a boyfriend drove him into hysterics. Sometimes it seemed to me that there was something abnormal in this - as if he was jealous of other men not exactly fatherly. It was particularly unpleasant that I was not allowed to communicate with my peers, but as a teenager my father's friends, male parishioners looked ambiguously at me in church.
I suffered a lot because I did not communicate with my peers. After all, I saw them on the street when I went to the teachers, somewhere briefly intersected with them. They had jeans, mobile phones, the Internet - I also wanted all of this. I wanted to walk with them, at least once to go out into the courtyard in the evening and chat with someone. I began to organize scandals at home: I came from the teachers and demanded that they let me go to study in a normal school. We had a terrible argument. In the ninth grade, my parents took me to a psychiatrist, and I was prescribed a bunch of sedatives - I became sleepy, could no longer roll up tantrums. But once I drank a whole bunch of pills, so I had to be taken to the hospital and pumped out. From that moment on, my parents began to treat me a little differently. It seems they understood that it was time to loosen control a little. At the very least, they stopped constantly coming to my room and checking what I was doing.
Toward the end of the school, my parents decided that I should study in a good university in Moscow, but they did not want me to live in a dormitory. So my mother rented an apartment in the capital and moved with me. In fact, I think she just wanted to part with dad. Life became easier: my mother went to work in her specialty, and I was sent to the eleventh grade in a normal school. It turned out that I really do not know how to communicate with my peers and generally I am afraid of guys, so I had to learn to build relationships with people.
In the end I entered Baumanka. Now I could pretend that I was disappearing at school until the night, and it was much easier to go about my own business. One day my mother and I came home for the holidays, and my father began to acquaint me with a man. Later it turned out that this was the son of some very rich and powerful priest from the south of Russia. Having listened to a couple of parental conversations in the kitchen, I understood why they protected my virginity so much - they wanted to marry me successfully. At this point, I began to try to find a boyfriend as soon as possible in order to start living with him and to break off all their plans. And I succeeded in this, although in the end we broke up pretty quickly.
Now I live the way I want, and conflicts with my parents are almost gone. I think I forgave mom and dad. Probably, I would like my childhood to be different. But now you can’t do anything, and I'm just learning to overcome the consequences of such an upbringing. My family is very strange, but still it remains my family.
Photo: Valenty - stock.adobe.com (1, 2)