50 years ago, in December 1974, Igor Kapral, a novice of the Holy Trinity Monastery and laborer in the monastery’s printing house, was tonsured a monk by Archbishop Averky (Taushev; +1976) with the name Hilarion – in honor of Venerable Hilarion, schema-monk and scribe of the Kiev Caves Lavra. In his address to the newly tonsured monk, the monastery abbot said that "this great saint must always be close" to him, since the parents of Monk Hilarion were immigrants from neighboring Volhynia near Kiev, and his virtue lay in preserving the main Christian virtues – humility and obedience, "virtues that have become so alien in our deceitful modernity, which is united by the cult of self-exaltation, vanity, and self-praise."

Archpriest Victor Potapov, who shared a cell with the seminarian in those years and is now rector of St. John the Baptist Cathedral in Washington, DC often repeats that "Metropolitan Hilarion was born a monk." After spending 17 years in the monastery, Hieromonk Hilarion did not even think of leaving the monastery walls and only left when he departed for his episcopal consecration in New York City – on December 10, 1984 – on the feast of the Kursk Root Icon of the Mother of God "of the Sign" – the Protectress of the Russian Diaspora.

On December 4, 1974, on the great feast of the Entry Mother of God into the Temple, Fr. Hilarion was ordained a subdeacon and then a deacon. In honor of the 50th anniversary of this event, we present to our readers the following interview with the ever-memorable First Hierarch of the Russian Church Abroad.

– Your Eminence, on December 10, 1984, in the presence of the wonderworking Kursk Root Icon, on its feast day, you were consecrated Bishop of Manhattan, vicar of Metropolitan Philaret (Voznesensky; +1985), who, like all the First Hierarchs of the Russian Church Abroad, headed the Diocese of Eastern America & New York…

– And after 17 years at Holy Trinity Monastery in Jordanville, I moved to the administrative building of the Synod of Bishops in Upper Manhattan, next to Central Park, and the Synodal Cathedral of the Sign became my place of service.

The Cathedral of the Sign was established in the Baker Mansion and consecrated in 1959. The icons for the church’s iconostasis were painted by the renowned icon painter Archimandrite Cyprian (Pyzhov; +2001), as he was called – "the All-Diasporan Iconographer." To the left of the solea, in a reliquary under a canopy, is the wonderworking Kursk Root "of the Sign." During the travels of the holy image, it is replaced by a copy painted by Archimandrite Cyprian. Nearby are icons of Our Lady of Kazan and St. John of Shanghai with a particle of his relics. Further on is a reliquary with the right hand of the Holy Martyr Grand Duchess Elizabeth and a particle of the relics of Nun Barbara – the very one that made a pilgrimage throughout Russia. Next to it are also revered relics: an icon of Blessed Xenia of St. Petersburg with a fragment of stone from the inner lining of the saint’s grave kept in a reliquary, and an image of Righteous John of Kronstadt with his mantle. On the lectern there is a medallion of Venerable Seraphim of Sarov from the icons of the royal family from Yekaterinburg and a cross of the saint from his coffin. To the right of the altar is an icon of Saint Nicholas the Wonderworker in a reliquary and the mantle of the Tsar-Martyr Nicholas II, which is also kept there.

The enthronement of three of my predecessors as First Hierarchs of the Russian Church Abroad took place in the Synodal Cathedral "of the Sign": Metropolitans Philaret, Vitaly (Ustinov; +2006), and Laurus (Škurla; +2008).

– Your Eminence, who influenced your decision to become a monk and a priest?

– Church services made a great impression on me. Archbishop Panteleimon (Rudyk; +1968), who was under the omophorion of the Moscow Patriarchate, often came to our area to perform services. Our farm was located not far from the town of Spirit River. Among the Ukrainian farms stood the Holy Trinity Church, but it did not have a permanent priest. Clergy from different jurisdictions would take turns coming to serve and perform religious rites.

The visage of the bishop immediately struck me. As a six-year-old child, I looked at him as if he were a heavenly being. When I came home, I would gather icons and candles and loved to play "priest." When I was about eight years old, in the forest near my house, I set up "my own" secret church: I decorated it with icons and prayed there.

As a teenager, I loved listening to religious programs on Canadian radio, and I subscribed to Orthodox church literature, magazines, and books. Archbishop Panteleimon sometimes gave me icons or little books and would say, "You will be a priest." Throughout my years of studying in high school, I felt in my heart that this was only preparation for seminary and the priesthood.

In the city of Edmonton, I met Bishop Sava (Saračević; +1973) of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside of Russia, a man of high spiritual life and extraordinary kindness. I told him about my desire to study at the seminary, and the bishop inspired me with his stories about monasticism.

With his blessing, I came to America, to Holy Trinity Monastery in Jordanville. That was in November 1967. Amidst picturesque farms, forests, and lakes stood a snow-covered monastery with a beautiful golden-domed church and a large monastic building – a piece of Holy Rus’. At first, I had a very difficult time. I even became despondent, wrote a letter to Bishop Sava, and asked him to take me to Canada to be a novice. But he replied that if I had the desire to become a true monk, I should stay in the seminary and patiently endure all the trials. After his reply, I felt peace in my soul.

As my studies drew to a close, I no longer wanted to leave anywhere; I had grown to love the monastery, the monastic brotherhood, and the rector of our seminary, Archbishop Averky, for whom I served as a cell attendant in the last years of his life. He was a man of deep faith and extraordinary erudition. We were struck by the purity of his soul and his good nature.

After graduating from the seminary, I taught for a short time, but mainly worked in the monastery’s printing house: typesetting articles first for the English-language journal "Orthodox Life," and then for "Orthodox Rus’" in Russian. Thus, I developed experience as a typesetter, proofreader, and editor.

– Your Eminence, was it frightening to leave the monastery where you had spent 17 years?

– It was very difficult for me. I intended to live in the monastery all my life, and therefore I was very worried. But I hoped for God’s help, because if the Lord allows something to happen, He will not abandon us and will give us the strength to bear the cross that falls to a person’s lot.

Unfortunately, I served with Metropolitan Philaret for only one year: he was already elderly and often ill. Everyone who remembers him knows Metropolitan Philaret as an ascetic, a man of prayer, a mentor to young people, whom people loved very much for his sermons and edifying conversations. He was a special person, people felt this and still cherish fond memories of him.

Metropolitan Vitaly, during his time as First Hierarch, continued to minister to his Canadian flock, where he served before his election. This was the time when I began to travel extensively to minister to the numerous parishes of the Eastern American Diocese.

Eleven years later, I was sent to the Diocese of Australia & New Zealand, which I loved very much, I loved its clergy and flock, and I hoped that my service there would continue for as many years as the Lord would grant me. This was the time of the first hierarchs, Metropolitans Vitaly and Laurus. Metropolitan Laurus was an exemplary monk, who had been striving in the monastery since the age of 12, and after being elected Primate of our Church, he continued to live mostly in the Holy Trinity Monastery. We all hoped that the Metropolitan would live longer, but it pleased God to call him to Himself. This was a great blow for all of us and for me personally.

– Arriving from Australia for the meeting of the Council of Bishops after the death of Metropolitan Laurus in May 2008, what did you feel when you realized that the cross of the Primate of the Russian Church Abroad awaited you?

– First and foremost, it is a sense of responsibility before God and the people of Christ’s Church. As monks, we are taught to submit to the will of God and the will of the Church, and yet every bishop of God is apprehensive when the obedience of the First Hierarch is imposed upon him, so I prayed to God to give me the strength to fulfill this obedience.

– The past century was a whole era in the history of the Russian Church Abroad. For 90 years, it ministered to Russians who, in their desire to preserve their Faith wherever they went, always built a church first. Has ROCOR’s mission changed now? What tasks does the Church face today?

– We are still trying to preserve what we have managed to build over these decades: churches, parishes, missions and communities on four continents, to support and minister to the faithful.

We have a large front of pastoral and missionary work in the USA. Today we are witnessing the fifth wave of emigration, so the experience of missionary work accumulated in the Russian Diaspora is in demand today. In almost every city in America, there are Russian Orthodox people who need spiritual guidance, a community and a priest. The Moscow Patriarchate, according to the Tomos of Autocephaly of the Orthodox Church in America, does not have the right to create new parishes in the United States. Our Church is not bound by such obligations, but it is financially difficult for us to build new churches. With God’s help, however, communities are gradually gathering, they find the means and build churches. Among the parishioners there are many converts – former Catholics, Protestants, Jesuits, even sectarians, who, in search of Truth, turn to Orthodoxy and become active and zealous members of our Church.

– In one of your interviews, you once said that the descendants of the first waves of emigration preserved their knowledge of the Russian language, while the children of those who came from Russia about 20 years ago often do not speak their native language. What is the difference in spiritual terms between the people of the ancien régime and our contemporaries?

– The first settlers at the beginning of the 20th century came here in search of a better life; then there were those who fled from the persecution of the new communist regime. Currently, the majority of emigration is labor migration: people find opportunities to realize themselves and their talents in another country. A few years ago, there was much talk about how the old emigration, unlike the new one that grew up under the godless regime, was more spiritual and churchgoing. Indeed, many of those who arrived in the 1970s-2000s came to God far from their homeland and actively entered into spiritual life at that time. There were and are young people who enter our Holy Trinity Seminary in Jordanville and become priests.

Now, when there is no ban on faith in Russia, many people come from Russia and the countries of the former CIS who are not simply believers, but church-going. But as for the language, everyone – both old and new – is equally susceptible to assimilation, especially children. Of course, those who fled persecution consciously preserved the Russian language and culture for themselves and their children. Some even hoped to return to their homeland… Therefore, I emphasize that only the example of parents, proper upbringing in the family, the family’s participation in parish life, and the education of children in parish schools can help prevent the loss of their roots. This is equally relevant for representatives of all 15 Orthodox jurisdictions in the USA, and I am talking about Orthodox people now, because the problem of assimilation faces everyone who comes to another country, and their children. And the only significant difference between people of the ancien régime and representatives of the latest waves of emigration can be seen in their adherence to certain traditions that their parents and grandparents brought from their native places. To say that representatives of one wave or another are more spiritual would not be entirely accurate or correct. It depends on each individual person. Time goes on. There are fewer and fewer old emigrants every year. And now those who came here 30 years ago are already considered representatives of the old emigration, and many of them met Christ here.

– Your Eminence, how much time do you spend traveling?

– Our Eastern American Diocese spans territory from the state of Maine and the border with Canada to Central America (Nicaragua, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, and Haiti). I try to visit as many parishes as possible each year, but due to the tight schedule, I have to minimize my stay in each place. In addition, we maintain the tradition of always holding hierarchal services in parishes on patronal feast days. I serve alternately in some parishes, and my two vicar bishops serve in others.

– Your Eminence, everyone knows about the more "democratic" lifestyle and organization of daily life of bishops abroad compared to Russia…

– In the Diaspora, we do not have the finances to maintain a permanent staff: secretaries, a cell attendant, and service personnel. As a rule, bishops abroad most often take care of their own daily needs: they drive, cook, and do laundry…

– In New York, do you stick to your habits and can you quickly prepare lunch?

– Of course. I like to cook quick soups. I often "invent" dishes myself. I do not like to sit at lunch for a long time: I cook it myself, have a quick bite, and get back to work.

But, if necessary, our parishioners are always ready to help. In parishes on all continents, both church wardens and members of parish councils and sisterhoods work without remuneration and themselves donate to the needs of the Church. And most of our priests and their wives in small parishes often work in secular jobs on weekdays, like ordinary lay people.

– Your Eminence, nowadays there is a lot of writing about various hobbies of monastics. In your opinion, is it appropriate for a monk to have a hobby? If so, what are your hobbies?

– Strictly speaking, it is better for a monk not to be particularly attached to anything, but to be diligent in prayer. But I have loved and collected books all my life. In Australia, I dreamed of making my library the basis for a diocesan theological library. I managed to assemble and systematize a large library in the Synodal Building in New York, which included books from the collections of some bishops.

I always advise our seminarians, firstly, to read more while they are young, especially theological literature and the works of the Holy Fathers, because with age there will be less and less time for reading.

– And what do you advise secondly?

– To be attentive to every person, not to try to run away from people: to be "all things to all men, that [you] might by all means save some," as the Apostle Paul wrote. If someone thinks that being kind, polite, and caring can be learned with age, when you get older, then I will say: this rarely works out for anyone. You should train yourself to do this from childhood, from youth. And most importantly, remember that the goal of our life is not in material well-being and external happiness, but in acquiring God’s grace and preparing for eternal life, and for this, first of all, we should collect spiritual treasures, which no one will ever take away from us.

Interview by Tatiana Veselkina.