Church with Bouncers

We take no pleasure in permitted joys,
But what's forbidden is more keenly sought.
~Ovid

Over the course of my time in Moscow, I've made a systematic and determined effort to see everything of cultural and historical importance that I possibly could. It has entailed some early weekend mornings, getting lost on several occasions, and an unpleasant amount of wandering around in brutally cold weather. This weekend, I saw my only remaining monastery in Moscow. And, for all the culture, art, history and religion I’ve soaked up all over the map, this was one of my more interesting visits to such a place.

The Danilovsky Monastery is the headquarters of the Russian Orthodox Church. During Soviet times, the church leaders were exiled to the Trinity-Sergiev Monastery in Zagorsk. Certainly, that place is a very historically significant, holy, beautiful spot. But during the entire Soviet period Zagorsk was a closed city – thanks to its defense industries no one was allowed into it without proper permission. You still pass the roadblocks on the main highway into town.

So, being headquartered there wasn’t exactly a prime position for tending to one’s flock. But in 1988, Gorbachev allowed the Patriarchate to move back to Moscow in honor of the 1000th anniversary of the founding of the Russian church. The monastery they were given had been used as a prison, a factory, and a host of other not-so-spiritual things. The bell tower had been torn down and all the bells sold to Harvard University.

After quite a bit of effort, the place has been rehabilitated to a very tidy, pleasing appearance. The bells are back, and so are hordes of faithful and monks and nuns.

As I walked in through the imposing gates, two Cossacks were roughly ejecting a couple of drunks who were trying to wander into the monastery. I briefly glanced at the rules posted on the huge metal doors, noting that a state of “non-soberness” was the first of several prohibited activities. I figured that if sobriety was the first rule on the list, I would probably past muster on all the others.

While I stood in the sun-drenched courtyard surrounded by beautiful chapels and churches, I noticed the Cossacks coming toward me. I was the only person in the courtyard, and there was no doubt that they wanted to see me.

“Do you have permission to take photos here?” they asked politely.
Permission is usually granted by a small ticket that costs about 100 rubles in places like this.
“No, I don’t,” I answered. “Where can I buy one?”
They were a little taken aback. “You have to arrange permission with the excursion office, and I’m not sure they’re working today,” one of them said.
“Well, can I take your picture?” I asked. I’d never spoken to real Cossacks before. They loved that question – they started laughing and joking with me – but unfortunately answered that no pictures meant, well, no pictures.

Not a bad photo - for a scofflaw!

I walked back to the museum entrance with them and tried to find someone to give me permission to photograph the monastery. The museum consists of one little dark room full of small display cases. As I walked in, I flipped on the light switch. An old woman appeared out of nowhere and started screaming at me.

“I beg your pardon,” I pleaded. “The schedule on the door says that the museum is open on Sundays.”
“Well, its break time,” she shouted back at me.
“But the schedule says that break time was an hour ago.” This was, in retrospect, the absolutely wrong thing to say. As I turned and headed for the door, she shouted that the museum was closed and on break at the same time. Or something like that. Russia Rule Number 1: Don’t argue with the babushka.

So I headed back out and continued my tour of the grounds and churches. I didn’t take any more pictures, though. I saw how the Cossacks had handled the two drunk guys at the gate and didn’t want anything like that to happen to me. On holy ground, no less.

Little did the friendly, but tough, Cossack goons know – but I took their picture while they were approaching to tell me that I couldn’t take pictures. Here they are. Nice enough fellows as long as you follow all the rules posted on the gates.

Security - Russian Orthodox style.