Part 3: Selections from Three Orthodox Christian Priests from Latvia

In our third installment of ‘Three Orthodox Christian Priests from Latvia,’ we hear about a young Fr Nikolajs Vieglais’ experience of seminary, marriage, and ordination in Latvia, pre-World War II.

Seminary, Marriage, and Ordination

 

Q: Fr. Nikolajs, when you were in the seminary, did you know that you wanted to be a priest?

NV: Yes, I wanted to be a priest. Because my knowledge of agriculture was enough, I knew that I could work. In the meantime, Poland was part of White Russia, mostly farmers. But the Polish government somehow pressed them and didn’t give them the possibility to flourish, and so they tried to get jobs elsewhere, and the Latvian government allowed them to come to Latvia to work by helping the farmers. They didn’t ask for much money, just to give them food and enough to bring food there in the country. And of course that monetary support was enough to get them everything they wanted and even to send to their relatives in Poland. And so I thought that if I couldn’t do that work myself, I could get one or two workers. Of course they would be paid more so they could prosper, not just be beggars. But I did not end up in the country.

Q: You haven’t said much about your life in the seminary.

NV: I joined the students who were in the first class after it opened in 1926. Most of them were somehow tied to churches — readers, subdeacons, and so on — and knew how to serve. They only needed to learn theology. And this was only a two-year course at first. Only for the first class, from 1926 to 1928, but after 1929 it was longer.

Q: Just to get more priests serving?

NV: Yes. Since we knew how to sing in Slavonic and we knew how to serve, the most important thing was to learn theology.

Q: What was the name of the dean of the seminary?

NV: Fr. John Janson. He was the dean of the cathedral at the same time.

Q: From what you have told me, Fr. John influenced you a lot. Can you say something about him?

NV: He was very friendly with me. When he was in the seminary, he appointed me as a substitute psalm reader, and I got a small salary from the cathedral. That was in the seminary. I was a student and at the same time assistant psalm reader in the cathedral.

Q: Did the seminary have their own daily services?

NV: We preached in the seminary on different days, mostly weekdays.

Q: The seminarians would preach, for practice?

NV: Yes. And the seminary had their own choir. They sang on weekdays.

Q: How many students were in the seminary when you were there?

NV: Only a dozen.

Q: Do you have any memories of any of the teachers?

NV: Yes, I do, but I cannot remember their names. I understood that the dean wanted me to stay in the cathedral after I finished seminary, but at that time an urgent request came from Cesis. They needed a psalm reader and choir director right away, because at that moment there was also a job available in the city hall. The job was important because the psalm reader’s salary was not large. When I finished the seminary, I was accepted as psalm reader and choir director in Cesis and at the same time I got the job in the city hall. And in a couple of years, I was married, and my wife was working as a teacher. I was there six years.

Q: So you knew ahead of time that you would also be working at the city hall in Cesis?

NV: The first day I came there, I started to work at the city hall. And the next year I was already assistant bookkeeper.

Q: Can you tell about how you met your wife and something about her?

NV: It was a coincidence. I started working in Cesis in 1928. In 1929 my father was transferred from Krapy to Cesis because the priest there retired. But because his apartment was not yet remodeled, my father and mother lived in my house, the psalm reader’s house. We were very crowded [laughs]. Choir practices took place in the first room in my apartment. My father and mother were singers. Then one day in December, one of the singers, the wife of our secretary in the city hall, found out that the
alders family was happy to see their daughter, who had just finished school in Rezekne, return back home. She was going to be living with her parents. And this singer found out that Natalija had sung in the choir in Rezekne, in Daugavpils, and asked her mother if she could help in our choir. And so she brought her to the choir practice. That was the first day I saw her. I had on my galoshes, you know.

Q: You told me the story once. Can you repeat it?

NV: I had only one pair of shoes. That day or the day before, I had given it to the shoemaker for repair, and so I was in galoshes. On my way home from work, I gave them to him, and he promised me that the next morning they would be ready. The shoemaker was also the caretaker of our church. So I was in galoshes, and somebody suggested that I walk Natalija home so she wouldn’t be alone at night. I pointed to my galoshes! [laughs] Russians have a phrase, sel v galoshu, ‘sit in galoshes.’1 If something doesn’t happen that should have, it’s said as a joke, ‘sel v galoshu.’ So it happened with me. Because I had no shoes, my future wife had to go home alone: ‘sel v galoshu.’ And that was the first time I saw her.
She started to come to church, of course. Little by little we became more acquainted. Once her mother invited me to come to tea, so I met her family, sister. I had another job as a bookkeeper in a cultural center that had movies, films. I could go for free. She would come with me. Little by little, my parents were in my house, she came to meet them for a cup of tea, and so on. My sisters were with her parents for a while, so little by little, but it took two years. At first she was a substitute teacher, then she became a full-time teacher, and I took a job as a bookkeeper, then we decided we could be married.

Q: You were married in Cesis in 1931?

NV: Fr. John Janson came from Riga for the marriage. It was a coincidence. My father was moved to Cesis, and that year I met my wife.
In 1934 I got a letter from Fr. John, who was also the dean of the cathedral. He wrote that the bishop would like to have me as a deacon in the cathedral.

Q: Which bishop was that?

NV: The one who was killed, Archbishop John Pommer. And of course I was very happy to go. My wife was happy because the opera was very close. She liked the opera. So we tried to liquidate all our things in Cesis and went there. We had no apartment. For a while we lived in the dean’s apartment. He gave me one room, but my wife lived with her parents in Jelgava, which is about 14 kilometers from Riga. Her father was transferred from Cesis. Cesis was a small town, Jelgava was big. Cesis had a small jail, and her father was the jail warden. But Jelgava had a big jail, and he was promoted. It was not far from Riga because there was transportation. And then my wife lived there with her parents. [points to photograph] Here is a house in Jelgava: me — I was a deacon — my wife, her sister, her father, her mother. I moved there in the end of August, and one day in October the bishop wanted to ordain me as a deacon, but because he was sick he couldn’t do it, and so [that day] I shared as the psalm reader.
Then one day — I suppose it was October 14 or so2 — came the bad news by telephone and radio that the bishop had been killed that night. Then the dean took me and we went by street car to his suburb dacha or residence.

Q: You went the same day that you heard the news?

NV: The same day. We heard the news at 7:00 that morning, and we went at 9:00. They had the first panikhida there with the dean. I was singing and he was serving.

Q: How did the people feel about Archbishop John’s death?

NV: In those times people were against the communists, you know, because all the signs showed that it was the communists [who killed him]. Have you heard about Sobinov, the Russian soloist3? He knew the bishop when he was in the Black Sea area. Sobinov was retired, and he was going to Nice in France to improve his health. And he stopped at the bishop’s house on the way there. He had asked the bishop for permission to live in Latvia so he would not have to go back to Russia. The bishop tried to do as much as he could, but of course among those workers in the government there were socialists and communists. They let the consulate know — the communist consulate in Riga. And when Sobinov came back from France to Riga, he was taken by communist guards. They were not in uniform, but he knew who they were. He fought with them. They put him in a limousine and went to the bishop. They knew that the bishop was waiting for him. That night in the cathedral there was a panikhida for King Alexander of Yugoslavia, and the bishop was supposed to be there. But he called his brother who lived in Riga to let them know at the cathedral that he would not be there because he was waiting for Sobinov. The bishop’s residence was outside of town. And so they took Sobinov to the bishop’s residence. When they arrived, the bishop thought that it was only Sobinov. He didn’t know that there were NKVD.5 He opened the door, and they shot him inside. He fell down. They put him on the steps on the attic. There was a table where carpenters work. They put him there, tied him with wires, poured gasoline, and lit a fire. He was burned when he was still alive, because the doctor found smoke in his lungs.

(Note from the interviewer: Several rumors surrounding and versions of the tragic murder of Archbishop John circulated among those in Latvia, but the case was closed without having been solved. In an article published in Riga in the Russian-language journal Daugava, No. 6 (242), 2003, pages 132-140, The Riddle of the Investigation of the Murder of Archbishop John (Pommer) (Zagadka sledstvennogo dela ob ubiistve arkhiepiskopa Ioanna [Pommera]), Dimitry Levitsky, who lived in Riga and knew close friends of Sobinov, disputes the claim that the Russian singer was associated with the archbishop. Citing the Berlin-to-Riga train schedule from the time, Levitsky argues that Sobinov had not yet arrived in Riga at the time of the archbishop’s death. A 2004 publication in Riga, The Holy Hieromartyr John, Archbishop of Riga (Sviaschennomuchenika Ioanna, Arkhiepiskopa Rizhskogo) by Igumen Theophan (Pozhidaev), pages 129-140, presents the primary sources of information about the murder. Of interest is an excerpt from a newspaper in Riga at the time, which is surely a source for Fr. Nikolajs’s version of the events:

“‘The killers knew that the very pious artist [Sobinov] used to visit the bishop even late in the evening. They secretly followed him, and when he was on the porch of Vladyka’s dacha [country residence], waiting for Vladyka (because he would open the door himself), at the moment when the owner of the dacha came, these evil-doers jumped out of hiding, pushed aside Sobinov, rushed in, and committed their awful deed.’”

Archbishop John was described as a physically strong man. He lived alone in a house outside of Riga and kept active ties with both the Russian Church and Russian émigrés living in Western Europe. According to Igumen Theophan in The Holy Hieromartyr John (op. cit.), the day after his death, the archbishop was scheduled to give testimony in court regarding documentation he kept alledgedly relating to leftist activity. On the night of the murder, a horrible fight ensued with his attackers, evidenced by blood spattered over the walls. The archbishop was tortured, likely with a blow torch, and wounded by a gunshot to the side that exited his body at the lower spine. The attackers started a fire and tried to make the death look like a suicide.

The Russian singer Sobinov himself died shortly after the archbishop. A newspaper announcement from Riga on October 12, 1934 reads as follows: “‘Today, during daylight hours, in Hotel Petrograd, the famous Russian opera artist, Leonid Sobinov, suddenly died. Yesterday the singer had arrived from Germany where he used to take medical treatment. The physician concluded that the sudden death was caused by a massive heart failure. The burial of the famous artist will take place in Moscow, where the body of the artist will be sent.’”

The proximity of the sudden deaths of these two well known figures must have fueled the speculation that they were somehow connected. The Holy Hieromartyr John states that a request by the police physician for an autopsy of the singer’s body was denied by the Soviet embassy in Riga, and that newspapers in Latvia received a directive from the Minister of Internal Affairs to only publish official news relating to the death. One rumor even circulated that the singer had been poisoned.)

Q: He had inhaled smoke?

NV: Yes. And his feet fell off because of the fire. He was burned, and the house was burned too. After a couple of days — the medical examination was somewhere else — they brought him to the cathedral, and he stayed in the middle of cathedral church all week. The coffin was open. Panikhidaswere served every day in the morning, during the day, in the evening, and at night. Sunday October 21 was the day of his funeral. There was a Liturgy, and during the Liturgy I was ordained a deacon because the bishop’s last wish was to have me as a deacon in the cathedral. The protodeacon took me around [in front of the coffin], and I made a prostration. Then I was brought in the altar for ordination.

Q: Do you have any personal memories of Archbishop John before he died?

NV: Of course, I was not very close to him, because I was in the seminary. But he knew me somehow. After the seminary, when I worked in Cesis in the city hall, he gave the dean of the cathedral the order to ask me to come to Riga, and I gave my agreement to be deacon in the cathedral. That was in 1934.

Q: So he knew you somehow.

NV: In France there was a theological institute, and there was a youth organization, a student organization. Those students had gatherings in Czechoslovakia, Poland, Estonia, and Latvia. Most of the Russian population in Latvia was in the eastern part. And they had a gathering there. But the Soviet government was very angry. It was close to the border. The Soviet government gave an order to the Latvian government not to allow them to meet. And the government gave this order to the bishop.
[The members of the Russian Christian Student Movement] were angry at him, and even ignored him during services. That was in my third or fourth year in Cesis. I was already married. We decided — my wife agreed — that I could get a higher theological education in Paris. She would work as a teacher and live with her parents.

Q: You wanted to go to Paris to study at St. Sergius Theological Institute?

NV: Yes. So I suggested it to our bishop. Archbishop John lived at that time in the basement of the cathedral. I went with my wife to him. I asked for a blessing and explained to him that I had decided — and my wife allowed me — to go to Paris. Right away he said, ‘Ne sovetuyu’: ‘I don’t suggest it.’ I was surprised. From him I understood that I should not go, but that he would ordain me any time as a priest. Then he mentioned one parish where he had been a psalm reader for a while. There was a very nice reader there, and so on. He even suggested in a friendly way that I become a priest. I answered that I was not ready to be a priest, and besides, I was busy in Cesis, and so on. ‘Okay, stay in Cesis, nothing wrong with that.’ But I understood that I should not go to Paris. That is my personal contact with the bishop. But why did he choose me? There were others with strong voices, not like mine, but he chose me. It was his last directive, because he became sick after that. He didn’t even serve at services and nobody was ordained there, nobody was transferred from one place to another. And after he had passed away, the metropolitan of Estonia was at the funeral. But before, they had a synodal meeting, and at that meeting they discussed this last directive. Maybe somebody had other candidates, because the cathedral in Riga was a very important place. And the metropolitan said, ‘If it is the bishop’s last wish, we should ordain him.’ And so I was ordained before his funeral, on the same day.

Q: What can you tell about Archbishop John’s life?

NV: The bishop was a farmer’s son from Latvia. He studied in a dukhovne uchilishche (Pre-revolutionary elementary school for future seminarians.) before seminary, a four-year spiritual school, and then six years in the seminary in Riga. Because he was a very good student, he was sent to the Kiev Academy on a stipend. And when he finished the academy, he was a teacher, and then he was ordained a priest and an assistant bishop in Minsk. Then he was sent to Taganrog on the Azov Sea, [laughs] not in the sea, but on the shore! And then he was raised to archbishop in a big city, Kharkov. And from Kharkov he went to Moscow to Patriarch Tikhon, and he was appointed to Riga.

Q: I read that Patriarch Tikhon gave him a kind of personal autonomy so that in case something were to happen [in Moscow], the bishops would be able to govern their own territories.

NV: Archbishop John Pommer helped get personal autonomy so he was not responsible to the Moscow Patriarchate, and therefore the government was okay with that. After he was killed in 1934, the Latvian government was against having contact with Moscow, so they found another way. One suggested to go under the Serbian patriarch, others said that it would be better to go under Constantinople, because if something difficult should happen, Constantinople could help. The government agreed [with the second option], and in 1936 they had contact with Constantinople. Augustin Peterson was elected. They sent bishops, and he was ordained by Greek bishops who came from Constantinople and England. Three bishops came. I participated in the elevation ceremonies.

Q: Was it significant that the Finnish church was also under the Patriarch of Constantinople?

NV: Yes, and Estonia was the same. I knew [about the deliberations with Patriarchate of Constantinople] from the dean. We were very friendly with the dean, Fr. John Janson. It’s very interesting that a couple of months ago there was a full-page newspaper article about Fr. John in Riga written by Fr. John’s granddaughter. She was working somewhere in the conservatory as a teacher.

Q: Did that appear in the press?

NV: Yes. There is one other very important thing about Fr. John. In 1937 the theological faculty in Riga was opened. Fr. John Janson was one of the candidates to teach because he studied in the academy in Petersburg, or Leningrad. But Orthodox society didn’t like him. They were more, I don’t know, more liberal. He was Latvian, but even the Latvians didn’t like him. Augustin was metropolitan at that time. I don’t know the real reason. But it was a coincidence that the dean of the Lutheran faculty, the Lutheran priest Fr. Mogals, was going to be in Cesis on a certain day and wanted to see my father. And Fr. John somehow knew that, and he asked me to arrange for him to meet with the dean. I arranged the meeting at my father’s home in Cesis. The dean told Fr. John, ‘For sure you will be a professor,’ in spite of the fact that [the Orthodox] didn’t want him. So there were different coincidences! Fr. John somehow got the information that the Lutheran dean, Mogals, would be there in Cesis. I don’t know how.
Because Fr. John’s eyes weren’t very good and his health was not good, he quit his job in the cathedral and he worked only as a professor, but lived in the cathedral house. And then the war started, then the communist occupation, and the theological faculty was closed. And in the meantime Fr. John regained his health and Metropolitan Augustin retired because he didn’t want to cooperate with the communist government, and the new Metropolitan Sergius Voskresensky came from Moscow to replace the metropolitan of Lithuania, Elevfery, who passed away at that time. Metropolitan Sergius became exarch of Latvia and Estonia, and appointed Fr. John Janson back to the cathedral.

Q: Can you say more about Metropolitan Augustin and the time when you were a deacon?

NV: In 1936 Metropolitan Augustin decided to visit the Estonian and Finnish bishops. And I accompanied him. So I was in Tallinn, the capital city of Estonia, and there we met Metropolitan Alexander, the same one who ordained me as a deacon. He was present at Archbishop John’s funeral and my ordination. And it is very interesting that before the turn of the century, Metropolitan Alexander was in the same class in the seminary as my father in Riga.

Q: Was Metropolitan Alexander of Estonian background?

NV: Yes. Metropolitan Augustin was Latvian. And Archbishop Herman in Finland, Finnish. He was in Satavalo. We went first to Tallinn, then to Helsinki. We stayed in Helsinki a day or so, and then went by train to some other city, and then to Satavalo. And then we went to Valamo.

Q: You also visited Valamo?

NV: Yes, Valamo also. We spent one or two days, participated in the services and visited the many islands and sketes. We had motor boats to different islands, very interesting. And we spent the first night on Valamo in the rooms that were occupied by the tsar’s family when the tsar visited Valamo before the revolution. It was a big apartment. Pictures of the tsar’s family were still there. And there was one young monk who was a helper for the abbot — in Russian you say keleinik11 —, Mark [Shavykin]. After several years he became bishop and was in San Francisco. For a while he was the priest in the [San Francisco] cathedral, the second priest with Fr. George Benigsen. And then he was transferred as rector to Phoenix, Arizona. From Arizona he went back East to the northern part of New York. But that parish was very small and he was lonely. He talked with the Patriarchal representative in New York. So he came to change his jurisdiction to be under the Moscow Patriarchate. And then he was ordained bishop and sent to San Francisco.

(Editor’s Note: Valamo was a large monastic establishment dating back hundreds of years, located on a group of islands in Lake Ladoga. The monks from “Old Valamo” were evacuated in 1939 when the southeast region of Finland known as Karelia was annexed by the Soviet Union. Many resettled and passed their remaining years in the “New Valamo” Monastery that was established in central Finland.)

Q: And you’ve known him for many years?

NV: I’ve known him since 1936!

Q: You mentioned two trips you made with Metropolitan Augustin, one in which you visited Estonia, Finland and Old Valamo, and the other one in which you visited Dvinsk.

NV: [referring to map] Here is Riga Bay, we were in Riga. Here is the Dvina River. In Latvian it is called Daugava, in Russian Dvina, and in German Dvuna. And here about 200 kilometers or so was Dvinsk. But the eastern part of Latvia, Latgale, had a Russian population of about 50%, with some Polish people and others. There were few Latvians. It was the second Sunday after Easter, the Sunday of the Myrrhbearing Women. I don’t remember why the metropolitan went there on that day, but the protodeacon was sick, and so he took me. And I accompanied Metropolitan Augustin to Dvinsk (Daugavpils in Latvian), the city where George Benigsen came from.
[During the trip] the metropolitan told me he wanted to ordain me as a priest because I had been a deacon already for three years and he needed a priest in Riga. But I had to find someone to replace me as deacon, someone who knew Latvian. During the Vigil service, I heard someone in the balcony where the choir was singing, one very nice voice [phone interruption]. Then there was some reading. And somebody in the choir was reading very nicely. I was deacon and Fr. John Legkij12 was priest. Fr. John was a young priest at that time and was still at that cathedral. I asked him, ‘Who is reading?’ He said, ‘Yura Benigsen. He’s in his last year in the gymnasium, but he likes to be at the church. He even participated in the Orthodox student movement from Paris.’

It is interesting, because the priest John Legkij and I worked together after that.

Q: Can you say something about Fr. John?

NV: He was the son of a priest. His father was a priest in Latgale, the eastern part of Latvia, a Russian parish priest, and his oldest brother, Jacob, studied with me in the seminary. We were in the first graduating class. John studied in the seminary after me.
In Russian, legkij has the same meaning as vieglais in Latvian. It means “light” or “not heavy.” There was one teacher in the gymnasium when I was still a deacon. I taught religion at one of the gymnasiums, and when I came in the room to take off my overcoat, the teachers were talking about something and laughing. One of the teachers was Russian and taught Latvian. He took a Russian newspaper. [imitating the teacher, NV pretends to read a newspaper headline in Russian] It means, ‘Russian light weight is reported to have Latvian light weight in monastery.’
I was still a deacon then. But I was ordained a priest and appointed to the convent as second priest. Fr. John Legkij studied after me, but he became a priest before me, because I was a deacon for three years, and a psalm reader and choir director for six years. But a year or so after seminary, he was ordained a priest, and during the last year I was a deacon in the cathedral, he was the second priest in the cathedral in Dvinsk. There were three churches [in Dvinsk], and in one of those churches he was the second priest.

Q: Were you about the same age as John Legkij?

NV: Exactly the same age! I was one day younger.

Q: When did you make the trip to Dvinsk? Was that when you found out you would be ordained a priest?

NV: [The visit to Dvinsk] was the second Sunday after Easter, but I was ordained in September. It may have been the same year, 1937.

When we were going to Dvinsk, in the train the metropolitan told me, ‘You have been a deacon for three years. It’s enough. You should be a priest.’ I thought he would send me somewhere to the country, so I said, ‘No, I would like to be a deacon longer.’ He responded, ‘No, no, no. But you have to find a candidate for deacon who can serve in Latvian.’ Because at those times the service was transmitted by radio, government radio.

Q: Was there a Latvian government broadcast?

NV: Yes. From 10 to 12, every Sunday. They broadcast just the Sunday service, but it had to be at a strict time, from 10:00 to 12:00. Less was okay, but not

more. And the service had to be in Latvian. I understood that since George Benigsen was a young man, of course he spoke Latvian because he was born in Latvia. When we went back with the metropolitan to Riga, I said, ‘I found a candidate.’ ‘Who?’ I said, ‘George Benigsen.’ ‘Benigsen? He didn’t study in the seminary.’ But in that year, 1937, an Orthodox branch of the theological faculty was opened. I suggested to the metropolitan that George could enter the theological faculty and study, because he knew the deacon’s duties since he was serving every Sunday and every holiday in church. He would get theology little by little. The metropolitan agreed with that. So on the same day that I left the apartment in the cathedral’s house and moved to the monastery, George Benigsen moved into my apartment. And some 14 years later, he would leave the caretaker’s apartment here in Berkeley — and I came here!

Q: That’s a fascinating story. How did George Benigsen become a deacon?

NV: I became priest first, and then he was ordained deacon. But he was able to go back to take his wife in Estonia. In the meantime they prepared the apartment for me in the monastery. But it was very interesting that in the meantime the priest who told me that the reader was George Benigsen, Fr. John Legkij, was appointed to the monastery, because the priest there had died. And Fr. John wanted me to be a second priest, because he taught religion lessons and couldn’t serve every day. Each school had religion lessons, even in the university, even in the technical schools. He needed a helper, a second priest. He suggested to the metropolitan and the abbess to appoint me as second priest in the monastery. And so I left the cathedral house apartment, and Fr. George Benigsen came the same day in my apartment. But during the war, when the mission was organized to Pskov, Fr. John Legkij wanted to go there to work with the Russian people. And then I was appointed as rector at the monastery. Then when he came back from Russia, when the communists came back, he was appointed as priest in the cathedral, and I was the rector in the monastery.

Q: So in September 1937 you were ordained and assigned to the Trinity St. Sergius Convent in Riga?

NV: I stayed at the cathedral for three years as a deacon, from 1934 to 1937. Then in 1937 I was ordained a priest and appointed to the convent in Riga.
At that time I was a religion teacher in the Latvian schools. Latvian schools were different than Russian schools. In Russian schools, religion lessons were taught at the same time each day, for example from 9:00 to 10:00. Latvian schools were different, because if there were 10 Orthodox students in the whole school, there had to be an Orthodox religious teacher. But those 10 would be from different classes, from the first to the sixth grades. And so we had to teach before or after regular classes. Since the youngest classes finished earlier, we could take a younger group. For example, if the younger groups finished at 12:00 and the older groups at 2:00, we could start this youngest group at 12:00 and stay until the older group finished, and then work with them.

Q: Did the government support that?

NV: The government paid, yes. I had some 30 hours. Some lessons were before regular classes, some after, and some in the evening. Religion lessons were even taught in the technical schools.

Q: How many schools did you teach in?

NV: Seven. Of course, the transportation was by street cars and buses. And because it was before 9:00 and after 12:00, I could be in church every day because in those times seminarians could go to the special seminary choir. Therefore, as a deacon I had to be at the weekday services as a singer and reader to help the regular psalm reader.

Q: You didn’t serve as a choir director?

NV: Of course, we were also [leading the responses]: the deacon, the protodeacon and the psalm reader. And some other people came to sing. I did it too. I was very busy in Riga. But we had a special choir director for the big choir. In 1937, the same year that I was ordained a priest, the Orthodox branch in the University Theological Faculty was opened. I entered as a student and studied there from 1937 to 1940.
And after John Legkij became priest in the Riga convent, he made the suggestion to me to be an assistant priest there. Then came my appointment as assistant priest. I was there up to 1944, but my main job was over the river to organize a Latvian missionary parish. Through Riga flows the Dvina River. And there was a cemetery and a cemetery church, and I was assigned as a missionary priest over the river there. But that parish was poor. It was not organized. There was a church, but no parish. The services at the monastery were of course in Russian. In the meantime there was war.

Q: How far was that from the convent itself?

NV: We had transport with street car and buses.

Q: What was the name of that mission church?

NV: The Icon Not Made with Hands.

Q: When did that mission start?

NV: My job was to start it. But the church was in a cemetery; there were no regular services there. But it was a nice church, everything was there. They gave me the names of those who were doing something to organize. With those people we had some meetings, little by little. But because I did not have room to live there in the priest’s house, the metropolitan decided to attach me to some other church, but in the meantime Fr. John Legkij came to me and asked if I would like to be assistant priest. It was important because he was a teacher and he couldn’t serve every day. Of course they didn’t have services every day but just Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. And so my duty was to serve on Wednesdays and alternate Saturdays. On Sundays I would serve there in the mission. I got an apartment in the monastery and a small salary. And in the meantime I was a religion teacher. Little by little the parish was growing. And then my father replaced me from Cesis.

Q: He came to the mission church?

NV: Yes. In the meantime the church was growing, and they paid his apartment expenses. He was already retired. He was very happy to be in Riga.

Q: Was it the metropolitan’s idea to start a mission there, or was it your idea?

NV: It was not my idea. I just started to do it. Maybe the request came from that group, because there was already a Russian church over the river, but these were Latvian-speaking people. And they could come over the river and to a Latvian language parish in the main part of Riga, but it was too far to come. They asked why if there was a free church they couldn’t have a Latvian parish there. It was a cemetery church, but that church was ready. They had everything needed for a church. And so I started to serve there. Then we got one psalm reader who organized a small choir, and so we started on Sundays, after that holidays, even services for Vespers. Little by little, I left after 1940, and my father who was retired replaced me.

Q: Can you say something about the Trinity St. Sergius convent. How many nuns were there?

NV: About 40.

Q: Who was the abbess at that time?

NV: Evgenia.

Q: Was she one of the original founders?

NV: The original founders were two sisters. One was Sergia, another Joanna; they came from Moscow. And they went very often to the Trinity St. Sergius Lavra. And when they came to Riga, they decided to organize a monastery as Trinity St. Sergius. There were two churches, St. Sergius church was small, and Trinity was a real cathedral.

Q: Were the services in Latvian or in Slavonic?

NV: At the monastery? Only in Slavonic. But in the cathedral in both languages, one Liturgy was in Latvian and another in Slavonic.

Q: What kinds of things did they do?

NV: There was a school, an official school, and the government paid their salaries, but it was the monastery’s property. The teachers weren’t nuns, but they lived there because they wanted to. John Legkij taught at that school. I had seven schools, but he always had the nuns’ school.

Q: Did mostly Orthodox students go to that school?

NV: One hundred percent. But about activities, there were mostly services, special services. For example, the third day after Ascension they had a special holiday for when the Holy Virgin appeared to the apostles. I even have it printed here today. But people mostly came from different parts of Riga for the services.

Q: Was there a parish there for people outside the convent?

NV: No, the services were just for the convent. But other people would come to pray and to be at the services.

Click for the other parts in the series:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8