Source: Orthodox Christian Information Center
Not every generation is destined to meet along its path
such a blessed gift from heaven as was the Grand Duchess Elizabeth Feodorovna
for her time, for she was a rare combination of exalted Christian spirit, moral
nobility, enlightened mind, gentle heart, and refined taste. She possessed an
extremely delicate and multifaceted spiritual composition and her outward
appearance reflected the beauty and greatness of her spirit. Upon her brow lay
the seal of an inborn, elevated dignity which set her apart from those around
her. Under the cover of modesty, she often strove, though in vain, to conceal
herself from the gaze of others, but one could not mistake her for another.
Wherever she appeared, one would always ask: "Who is she who looketh forth
as the morning, clear as the sun" (Song of Solomon 6:10)? Wherever she
would go she emanated the pure fragrance of the lily. Perhaps it was for this
reason that she loved the color white—it was the reflection of her heart. All
of her spiritual qualities were strictly balanced, one against another, never
giving an impression of one-sidedness. Femininity was joined in her to a
courageous character; her goodness never led to weakness and blind,
unconditional trust of people. Even in her finest heartfelt inspirations she
exhibited that gift of discernment which has always been so highly esteemed by
Christian ascetics. These characteristics were perhaps in part due to her
upbringing, which she received under the guidance of her maternal grandmother,
Victoria, Queen of England and Empress of India. An unmistakable English stamp
was placed on all her tastes and habits and English was closer to her than her
native German.
The grand duchess herself acknowledged that a great
influence on the formation of the inner, purely spiritual side of her character
was the example of a paternal ancestor, Elizabeth Turingen of Hungary, who
through her daughter Sophia was one of the founders of the House of Hesse. A
contemporary of the Crusades, this remarkable woman reflected the spirit of her
age. Deep piety was united in her together with self-sacrificing love for her
neighbor, but her spouse considered her great beneficence squanderous and at
times persecuted her for it. Her early widowhood compelled her to lead a life
of wandering and need. Later she was again able to help the poor and suffering
and completely dedicate herself to works of charity. The great reverence which
this royal struggler enjoyed even during her lifetime moved the Roman Catholic
Church in the thirteenth century to number her among its saints. The
impressionable soul of the grand duchess was captivated in childhood by the
happy memory of her honored ancestor and made a deep impression on her.
Her rich natural gifts were refined by an extensive
and wide education which not only satisfied her mental and esthetic needs but
also enriched her with knowledge of a purely practical nature, essential for
every woman with household duties. "Together with Her Majesty (i.e.,
Empress Alexandra Feodorovna, her younger sister) we were instructed during our
childhood in everything,'' she once said in answer to how she became acquainted
with all the details of housekeeping.
Chosen as the future wife of the Grand Duke Sergei
Alexandrovich, the grand duchess arrived in Russia during the period when the
country, under the firm rule of Alexander III, attained the blossoming of its
might in a purely national spirit. With her moral sensitivity and inborn love
for knowledge, the young grand duchess began an intense study of the national
characteristics of the Russian people and especially of their faith which
places a deep mark on both their national character and upon all of their
culture. Soon Orthodoxy won her over by its beauty and inner richness which she
often would contrast with the spiritual poverty of Protestantism. ("And
they are so self-satisfied about everything!" she said about Protestants.)
Of her experiences in the Roman Catholic world, the
grand duchess sometimes recalled a trip to Rome which she had taken together
with the late grand duke soon after the jubilee of Pope Leo the XIII. The latter
knew well the unshakable firmness of Sergei Alexandrovich's Orthodox
convictions and regarded him highly, having first made his acquaintance when
the grand duke, still a child, was visiting Rome. This long-standing
acquaintance allowed them to converse informally. Between them there even arose
an argument about how many popes were named Sergius. Neither of these exalted
disputants wanted to give way to the other and the pope had to withdraw into
his library to check. He returned a bit upset.
"Forgive me," said Leo XIII, smiling,
"although they say the pope is infallible, this time he fell into
error."
The grand duchess, of her own volition decided to
unite herself to the Orthodox Church. When she made the announcement to her
spouse, according to the account of one of the servants, tears involuntarily
poured from his eyes. The Emperor Alexander III himself was deeply touched by
her decision. Her husband blessed her after Holy Chrismation with a precious
icon of the Savior, "Not Made by Hands" (a copy of the miraculous
icon in the Chapel of the Savior), which she treasured greatly throughout the
remaining course of her life. Having been joined to the Faith in this manner,
and thereby to all that makes up the soul of a Russian, the grand duchess could
now with every right say to her spouse in the words of the Moabite Ruth,
"Your people have become my people, and your God my God" (Ruth 1:16).
The grand duke's extended tenure of office as
Governor-General of Moscow, the true heart of Russia, where he and his wife
were in living contact with the ancient, holy shrines and the immemorial
Russian national way of life, must have bound the grand duchess even more to
her new homeland.
Even during these years she dedicated much time to
philanthropic activities, though this was considered one of the main
obligations of her high position and therefore did not earn for her much public
merit. As part of her social obligations the grand duchess was forced to
participate in social life which was already beginning to oppress her because
of its frivolity. The terrible death of the grand duke Sergei Alexandrovich,
who was torn apart by a bomb in the holy Kremlin itself (near the Nicholas
Palace where the grand duke had moved after he left his position as
Governor-General), began a decisive moral change in the soul of his spouse
which caused her to forsake her former life once and for all. The greatness of
spirit with which she endured her trial evoked for her the deserved admiration
of everyone. She even found in herself the moral strength to visit Kaliev, the
murderer of her husband, in the hope of softening and healing his heart by
meekness and complete forgiveness. These Christian feelings she also expressed,
through the person of the slaughtered grand duke, by having the following
touching words of the Gospel inscribed upon the memorial cross, erected
according to the plans of Vasnetsov, at the site of his death, ''Father,
forgive them for they know not what they do..."
However, not everyone was capable of understanding the
change which had taken place in her. One had to live through such a staggering
catastrophe as this, in order to be convinced of the frailty and illusory
nature of wealth, glory and the things of this world, and about which for so
many centuries we have been warned by the Gospel. For the society of that time,
the decision of the grand duchess to dismiss her court in order to leave the
world and dedicate herself to serving God and neighbor, seemed as scandal and
madness. Despising both the tears of friends, gossip and mockings of the world,
she courageously set out on her new path. Having earlier chosen for herself the
path of the perfect, i.e. the path of ascetic struggle, she began with wisely
measured steps to ascend the ladder of Christian virtues.
The advice of wise instructors was not foreign to her,
guiding those starting out on the path of Christian activity to learn from
others the way of life so as "not to teach oneself, not to go without a
guide along a path which one had never traveled and hence quickly lose one's
way; not to travel more or less correctly, nor become exhausted from too swift
a run or to fall asleep while resting" (Jerome, A Letter to the Monk Rusticus).
Therefore she strove to understand nothing without the
direction of spiritually experienced elders, especially the elders of the
Zosima Hermitage under whom she placed herself in total obedience. As her
heavenly guides and protectors she chose St. Sergius and St. Alexis of Moscow.
She was entrusted to their special protection by her late spouse whose remains
she buried at the Chudov Monastery in a magnificent tomb, styled after those in
the ancient Roman catacombs. The extended period of mourning for the grand
duke, during which she retired into her interior world and was continually in church,
was the first real break to separate her from what up until then had been her
normal everyday life. The move from the palace to the building she acquired at
Ordinka, where she allotted only two very modest rooms for herself, signaled a
full break with the past and the beginning of a new period in her life.
From now on her main task became the building of a
sisterhood in which inner service to God would be integrated with active
service to one's neighbor in the name of Christ. This was a completely new form
of organized charitable Church activity, and consequently drew general
attention to itself. At its foundation was placed a deep and immutable idea: no
one could give to another more than he himself already possessed. We all draw
upon God and therefore only in Him can we love our neighbor. Natural love
so-called or humanism quickly evaporates, replaced by coldness and
disappointment, but one who lives in Christ can rise to the heights of complete
self-denial and lay down his life for his friends. The grand duchess not only
wanted to impart to charitable activities the spirit of the Gospel but to place
them under the protection of the Church. Thus she hoped to attract gradually to
the Church, those levels of Russian society, which up until that time had remained
largely indifferent to the Faith. Highly significant was the very name the
grand duchess bestowed upon the institution she established—the Martha and Mary
Convent, which name contains within itself the mission, the life of its holy
patrons.
The community was intended to be like the home of
Lazarus which the Savior so often visited. The sisters of the convent were
called to unite both the high lot of Mary, attending to the eternal word of
life, and the service of Martha, to that degree in which they found Christ in
the person of His less fortunate brethren. In justifying and explaining her
thought, the ever-memorable foundress of the convent said that Christ the
Savior could not judge Martha for showing Him hospitality, since the latter was
sign of her love for Him. He only cautioned Martha, and in her all women in
general, against that excessive fussing and triviality which draw them away
from the higher needs of the spirit.
To be not of this world, and at the same time live and
act in the world in order to transform it—this was the foundation upon which
she desired to establish her convent.
Striving to be an obedient daughter of the Orthodox
Church in all things the grand duchess did not desire to make use of the
advantages of her position fearing lest even in the smallest way she take
liberties and depart from obedience, from the rules or specific statutes
established for everyone by the Church Authority. On the contrary, she
fulfilled with complete readiness the slightest desire of the latter even if it
did not coincide with her personal views. At one time, for example, she
seriously thought about reviving the ancient institution of deaconess, in which
she was zealously supported by Metroplitan Vladimir of Moscow. Bishop Germogen
(at this time of Saratov, later of Tobolsk where he was martyred), because of a
misunderstanding, stood up against this idea, accusing the grand duchess
without any foundation, of Protestant tendencies (of which he later repented),
and counseled her to abandon her cherished dream. Having been misunderstood in
the best of her strivings, the grand duchess did not stifle her spirit because
of this trying disappointment, but rather put her whole heart into her beloved
Martha and Mary Convent. It is not surprising that the convent quickly
blossomed and attracted many sisters from the aristocracy as well as the common
people. Nearly monastic order reigned within the inner life of the community
and both within and without the convent her activities consisted in the care of
those who visited the sick who were lodged in the convent, in the material and
moral help given to the poor, and in the almshouse for those orphans and
abandoned children found in every large city. The grand duchess paid special
attention to the unfortunate children who bore within themselves the curse of
their fathers' sins, the children born in the turbid slums of Moscow only to
wither before they had a chance to blossom. Many of them were taken into the
orphanage built for them where they were quickly revived spiritually and
physically. For others, constant supervision at their place of residence was
established. The spirit of initiative and moral sensitivity which accompanied
the grand duchess in all her activities, inspired and impelled her to search
out new paths and forms of philanthropic activity, which sometimes reflected
the influence of her first, western homeland, and its advanced organizations
for social improvement and mutual aid. And so she created a cooperative of
messenger boys with a well built dormitory, and apartments for the girls who
took part in this activity. Not all of these establishments were directly
connected with the convent, but they were all like rays of light from the sun
united in the person of their abbess, who embraced them with her care and
protection. Having chosen as her mission not only to serve one’s neighbor in
general, but also the spiritual re-education of contemporary Russian society,
the grand duchess wanted to speak to the latter in a closer, more
understandable language about Church art and Orthodox liturgical beauty. All
the churches founded by her, especially the main church of the convent, built
in the Novgorod-Pskov style by the famous architect Shchusev and painted by
Nesterov, were distinguished by their austere style and the artistic unity of
the interior and exterior ornamentation. The crypt located under the arches of
the convent church also evoked general admiration for its peaceful warmth. The
church services in the convent were always outstandingly well performed, thanks
to the exceptionally capable spiritual father chosen by the abbess. From time
to time she attracted other fine pastoral strength from Moscow and all parts of
Russia to serve and preach. Like bees gathering nectar from all flowers,
according to the words of Gogol, for her, as a true Christian, there was no
ultimate course of study and she remained a conscientious humble student all
her life.
All the external decor of the Martha and Mary Convent
as well the internal structure, and in general all the material creations of
the grand duchess were stamped with elegance and culture. This was not because
she conveyed to it some sort of self-satisfying significance, but because this
was the spontaneous action of her creative spirit. Having concentrated her activity
around the convent, the grand duchess did not sever her ties with those other
social organizations and institutions of a charitable or spiritually
enlightening nature with which she had been bound by close moral ties ever
since her first years in Moscow. Among these, the Palestine Society occupied
the first place, so close to her because it called to life the deep Russian
Orthodox feeling of her spouse, Grand Duke Sergei Alexandrovich, for the Holy
Land. Having inherited from him the chairmanship of this society, she imitated
him in holy zeal for Sion and in tireless concern over Russian pilgrims heading
for the Holy Land. Her cherished dream was to go with them, though she already
had earlier visited the holy places together with the late grand duke. The
unbroken chain of activity and responsibilities, becoming more complicated with
every year, prevented her for a long time from leaving Russia for the Holy
City. Alas! No one then foresaw that she would arrive in Jerusalem only after
her repose, in order to find there a place for eternal rest.
Her mind was always in harmony with her heart, and in
the Palestine work she exhibited not only love and zeal for the Holy Land but a
great working knowledge, as if she directly controlled all the institutions of
the Society. During the last years before the war she was occupied with plans
for the construction of a metochion to St. Nicholas, in Bari, with a church
worthy of the Russian name. The project and model of the building, executed by
Shchusev in the ancient Russian style, was permanently exhibited in her
reception room. Countless papers and callers, the examination of various types
of petitions and entreaties which were presented to her from all parts of
Russia, as well as other affairs, usually filled her whole day and frequently
brought her to the point of total exhaustion. This did not hamper her from
spending the night at the bedside of suffering patients or from attending
services in the Kremlin and at the greatly loved churches and monasteries in
all parts of Moscow. The spirit strengthened the weakened body (her only rest
was pilgrimages to various parts of Russia for prayer. However, even here the
people took away the possibility of her finding seclusion and quiet. Greatly
honoring her royal birth and great piety, the people ecstatically met her
everywhere. The trips of the grand duchess to various cities of Russia, against
her will turned into triumphant marches).
Concealing her struggles, she always appeared before
people with a bright, smiling face. Only when she was alone or with a few close
people, her face and especially her eyes reflected hidden sorrow—the mark of a
great soul languishing in this world. Having detached herself from almost all
earthly things, she even more brightly radiated an inner light, especially by
her love and tenderness. No one could do an act of kindness more delicately—to
each according to his need or spiritual temperament. She was not only capable
of weeping with the sorrowful but of rejoicing with those who rejoice, which is
usually the more difficult. Though not a nun in the strict sense, better than
any nun she observed the great law of St. Nilus of Sinai: "Blessed is the
monk who honors every man as (a) god after God." Find the best in every
man and, "Have mercy on the fallen," was the continual striving of
her heart. A meek spirit did not prevent her from blazing with holy wrath
before injustice. Even more strictly she judged herself if she made some
mistake, however involuntarily. Allow me to present a fact which witnesses to
this facet of her character, as well as how her sincerity won out against an
inborn reserve and the demands of social etiquette. Once during the time I was
vicar bishop of Moscow she offered me the chairmanship of a purely secular
organization, not having any activities connected with the Church. I was
involuntarily embarrassed, not knowing how to answer her. Understanding my
position, she immediately said decisively, "Forgive me, I made a foolish
suggestion," and thus led me out of a difficult situation.
The high position of the grand duchess along with her
openness attracted many and various organizations and individual petitioners to
her for her help, protection, or authoritative influence in the higher echelons
of both local Moscovite and the central authority. She carefully replied to all
petitions except for those which bore political overtones. The latter she
decisively rejected, considering dealings with politics to be incompatible with
her new calling.
She paid special attention to all institutions of
Church, charitable or artistic and scientific character. She also zealously
worked to preserve the more important daily customs and traditions which made
life so rich in old, beloved Moscow. The anniversary holiday of 1912 gave her
an unexpected chance to exhibit her zeal in this direction.
Here are the circumstances of this activity, hitherto
known only to a few people, including even those who had direct connection with
this work. During the elaboration of the program for the celebration of the hundredth
anniversary of the War for the Homeland, there arose in the special committee
organized in Moscow a heated debate over how to celebrate the Thirtieth of
August, the final day of the anniversary festival in Moscow, where the emperor,
according to ceremony was supposed to arrive from Borodino. The representative
of the ministry of the court offered to place at the center of the festival day
a visit by the emperor to the Zemsky Kustarny Museum, which had absolutely
nothing to do with the historical recollection of 1812.
Others supported my proposed offer that this memorial
for Russia, St. Alexander Nevsky's Day, be noted with a festive service of
thanksgiving on Red Square. The ceremonial officialdom refused to put aside its
plan, protecting itself with the impenetrable iron plating of "imperial
order," a being whose existence no one, of course, could verify. As for
me, a representative of the clerical department, and those who were of like
mind, all we could do was submit to the inescapable. At my meeting with the
grand duchess I told her all about the conflict that had come to pass. Having
heard out my tale in much distress she said, "I will try to write about it
to the emperor. It's true," she added with a reserved smile, 'for us
women, all is permitted."
Within a week, she informed me that the emperor had
changed the program according to our desires.
When the Thirtieth of August arrived it presented a
magnificent picture of a genuinely national, Church and patriotic festivity
which will never be forgotten by the participants. For this fete Moscow was
indebted to the intercessions of the grand duchess who exhibited in the present
circumstance not only her devotion to the Church but a deeply historical,
purely Russian devotion.
At the beginning of the war she gave herself over with
complete self-sacrifice to the service of the sick and wounded soldiers whom
she visited not only in the hospitals and sanitoriums of Moscow but also at the
front. Like the empress, she was not spared the slander which accused them of
excessive sympathy for wounded Germans, and the grand duchess bore this
unwarranted, bitter offense with her usual magnanimity.
When the revolutionary storm broke out she met it with
amazing self-control and calm. It seemed that she stood on a high, unshakable
cliff, and from there fearlessly looked out at the waves storming around her
and raised her spiritual vision to eternity.
She did not harbor even a shadow of ill feelings
against the madness of the agitated masses. "The people are children, innocent
of what is transpiring," she remarked quietly. "They are led into
deception by the enemies of Russia." Nor was she depressed by the great
suffering and humiliation that befell the royal family who were so close to
her: "This will serve for their moral purification and bring them nearer
to God," she noted once with radiant gentleness. She suffered deeply for
the royal family only when the thorns of grievous slander were woven around
them especially during the war. In order not to give impetus to new evil
gossip, the grand duchess tried to avoid conversations on the subject. If it so
happened that because of idle people's tasteless curiosity the subject was
broached in her presence, she immediately killed it by her expressive silence.
Only once after returning from Tsarskoe Selo, she forgot herself and remarked,
"That terrible man (i.e., Rasputin) wants to separate me from them but,
thank God, he will not succeed."
The charm of her whole temperament was so great that
it automatically attracted even the revolutionaries when they first arrived to
examine the Martha and Mary Convent. One of them, apparently a student, even
praised the life of the sisters, saying that no luxuries were noticeable, and
that cleanliness and good order were the rule, which was in no way blameworthy.
Seeing his sincerity, the grand duchess struck up a conversation with him about
the outstanding qualities of socialist and Christian ideals. "Who
knows," remarked her unknown conversationalist as if influenced by her
arguments, "perhaps we are headed for the same goal, only by different
paths," and with these words left the convent.
"Obviously we are still unworthy of a martyr's
crown," the abbess replied to the sisters' congratulating her for such a
successful end to the first encounter with the Bolsheviks. But that crown was
not far from her. During the course of the last months of 1917 and the
beginning of 1918, the Soviet power to everyone's amazement granted the Martha
and Mary Convent and its abbess complete freedom to live as they wished and
even supported them by supplying essentials. This made the blow even heavier
and unexpected for them when on Pascha the grand duchess was suddenly arrested
and transported to Ekaterinburg. His Holiness Patriarch Tikhon attempted with
the help of Church organizations to take a part in her liberation, but was
unsuccessful. Her exile was at first accompanied by some comforts. She was
quartered in a convent where all the sisters were sincerely involved. A special
comfort for her was that she was not hampered from attending services. Her
position became more difficult after her transfer to Alapaevsk where she was
imprisoned in one of the city schools together with her ever-faithful
companion, Sister Barbara, and several grand dukes who shared her fate.
Nevertheless she did not lose her abiding firmness of
spirit and occasionally would send words of encouragement and comfort to the
sisters of her convent who were deeply grieving over her. And so it continued
until the fateful night of 5/18 July. On this night together with the other
royal captives striving with her and her valiant fellow-struggler Barbara in
Alapaevsk, she was suddenly taken in an automobile outside the city and
apparently buried alive with them in one of the local mine shafts. The results
of later excavation there has shown that she strived until the last moment to
serve the grand dukes who were severely injured by the fall. Some local
peasants who carried out the sentence on these people whom they did not know,
reported that for a long time there was heard a mysterious singing from below
the earth.
This was the great-passion-bearer, singing funeral
hymns to herself and the others until the silver chain was loosed and the
golden bowl was broken (cf. Eccles. 12:6) and until the songs of heaven began
to resound for her. Thus the longed-for martyr's crown was placed on her head
and she was united to the hosts of those of whom John, the seer of mysteries,
speaks: "after this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man
could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood
before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in
their hands;...And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me, These
are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and
made them white in the blood of the Lamb" (Rev. 7:9, 14). Like a wondrous
vision she passed over the earth, leaving behind radiant traces. Together with
all the other sufferers for the Russian land, she appeared simultaneously as a
redeemer for Russia and as a foundation for that Russia of the future which is
being raised up on the bones of the new martyrs. Such images have a timeless
significance; their memory is eternal on earth and in heaven. Not in vain did
the voice of the people declare her a saint during her lifetime. (It is
noteworthy that soon after the birth of the grand duchess, her mother, the
Princess Alice, a woman with a great and meek spirit, wrote to Queen Victoria
about the name given to her daughter. "We liked Elizabeth since St.
Elizabeth is an ancestress of the Hessian, as well as of the Saxon House."
The late grand duchess had kept this name after being united to the Orthodox
Church and chose for her heavenly protectress, St. Elizabeth—5 September.)
As though in reward for her earthly struggles and
special love for the Holy Land, her martyred remains, which according to
eyewitnesses were found in the mine shaft completely untouched by corruption,
were destined to rest at the same place where the Savior suffered and rose from
the dead. Exhumed on the orders of Admiral Kolchak, together with the bodies of
other members of the royal house killed at the same time (the Grand Duke Sergei
Michailovich, the Princes John, Igor, and Konstantine Konstantinovich, and the
son of the Grand Duke Paul Alexandrovich, Prince Paley), their remains and the
bodies of the grand duchess and Sister Barbara were taken first to Irkutsk and
then to Peking where they remained for a long time m the cemetery church of the
Russian Ecclesiastical Mission. From there, through the concern of her sister,
Princess Victoria, the Marchioness of Milford-Haven, to whom she was closely
bound during life, her coffin and Sister Barbara's were transferred from
Shanghai and sent to Palestine.
On the 15th of January, 1920, the bodies of both
sufferers were triumphantly met in Jerusalem by the English authorities, the
Greek and Russian clergy, as well as crowds of the large Russian colony and
local inhabitants. Their burial took place the next day and was served by the
head of the Church of Jerusalem, the Blessed Patriarch Damianos, together with
a host of clergy.
As if destined for the purpose, the crypt below the
lower vault of the Russian church of St. Mary Magdalene was adapted as a
sepulchre for the grand duchess. This church, built in memory of the Empress
Maria Alexandrovna by her august children, was not strange to the deceased, for
together with the Grand Duke Sergei Alexandrovich she had been present at its
consecration in 1888. Located on a picturesque slope of the Mount of Olives, it
is the best-styled and most graceful of all the churches one finds in
Palestine, attracting one's gaze even from a distance by its colorful and
purely Russian lines. The martyr herself could not have chosen a better resting
place even if, having foreseen that she would have to repose for a time outside
her convent, she had earlier prepared a grave for herself.
Here, everything reflects her spirit: the golden domes
of the church, sparkling in the sun amidst green olive trees and cypresses; the
artistic interior furnishings, stamped with the inspiration of Vereshchagin,
and the very character of the holy images, pierced through by the rays of
Christ s Resurrection. Even closer and dearer to her heart is the fragrance of
the holy places, which breathes upon her sepulchre from all sides. Below,
beneath the tomb stretches out a unique view of the Holy City with the great
cupola of the Life-Giving Tomb rising on high; at the foot of her tomb, the
Garden of Gethsemane where in agony the Divine Sufferer prayed until drops of
blood appeared. Further on, Gethsemane itself, the place of the Mother of God's
burial and to the left one can discern half-concealed by the folds of mountains,
Bethany, that true Convent of Martha and Mary, the sister of Lazarus, whom the
Lord called forth from the grave; and above, the Church of St. Mary Magdalene
joyously crowns Mt. Olivet, whence the risen Savior rose gloriously to heaven
in order to crown from there all those who amid temptations remained faithful
to Him until death (see Rev. 111:5, 21).
Jerusalem
5/l8 July, 1925
Originally appeared in Orthodox Life, vol. 31, no. 5
(Sept.-Oct., 1981), pp. 3-14. To read more about the life of this saint,
consult Grand Duchess Elizabeth of Russia: New Martyr of the Communist Yoke by Lubov Millar.
Includes over 40 photographs and an extensive bibliography. However, the book
is not without its problems. Following is a short book review by Bishop
Auxentios that appeared in Orthodox Tradition, Vol. IX, No. 1, p.
25: "This book is not written in the pious manner of the traditional
hagiography of the Orthodox Church. One is astounded at the constant
descriptions of the physical beauty of the martyred Grand Duchess Elizabeth,
commentaries on her jewelry collection, and some effete preoccupations with la royaut. As well, the author
shows little knowledge of many Orthodox institutions, including the female
diaconate and monasticism. Nonetheless, the book provides beautiful glimpses
into the life of a convert woman who, having grown much in her Faith at a time
when Russian Orthodoxy was not at its healthiest, gave her life for Christ and
the Church. Such glimpses make
this handsome book a treasury."