"It is important for an abbot to lovingly arrange life so that different people complement each other like puzzle pieces,” says Archimandrite Stefan (Khilchuk), abbot of the Our Lady of Pochaev Monastery in North Port, FL.

Last year marked 20 years since Archimandrite Stefan, originally from Volhynia, became a monk and priest. Next year will mark 10 years of his ascetic labors in south Florida: first, he labored at St. Nicholas Monastery in North Fort Myers, and after the abbot left for the Patriarchate of Constantinople, he founded the Our Lady of Pochaev Monastery in the jurisdiction of the Russian Church Abroad. Currently, the monastery has four inhabitants: two priests and two deacons. All four are from Volhynia, and each has experienced miracles worth telling: both those that occurred before they came to America and those that occurred in Florida.

Fr. Stefan first arrived in America on March 8, 2017, the day of the uncovering of the relics of Blessed Matrona of Moscow.

"That day, I felt both despondency and even fear," recalls Fr. Stefan. "I was flying and praying, ‘Lord, Thy will be done.’ For a Christian, especially a monk, God’s will is most important. If I do not want it, let all the roads be closed. I will accept it as God’s will." The plane began to land, and suddenly Fr. Stefan saw the palm trees of Miami Airport. They reminded him of the Holy Land: when he was flying to Jerusalem, he had also seen palm trees at Ben Gurion Airport near Tel Aviv. The mere thought that this place was somehow reminiscent of the Holy Land calmed him.

Fr. Stefan was given a 10-year American visa, but he never imagined he would spend so long in America. He thought he would help out at the monastery and then return to his Holy Dormition Monastery, perched on a high hill in the village of Nizkinichi in the Volhynia region.

"We are the Khilchuks"

"My love for the church was instilled in me by my grandmother – my father’s mother, Anastasia L. Khilchuk," says Fr. Stefan. "My grandmother sang in our Dormition Church in the village of Mokrets in the Volhynia region, where I attended with her from an early age, and from the age of six or seven, I sang in the choir myself." Grandmother Anastasia took him to the Pochaev Lavra and the Korets Monastery. There, the boy enjoyed the singing, the church decorations, and the strict but kind monks.

Fr. Stefan’s grandfather was named Stefan, and his grandmother wanted her grandson to be named Stepan too. But in 1981, such a name seemed unfashionable: Sashas and Seryozhas were all around. His father was categorically against the name Stepan and named his son Alexander. But when Alexander became a monk, he was tonsured in honor of St. Stephen of the Kiev Caves, Bishop of Vladimir-Volynsky, a prominent Church figure of the 11th century and a beloved disciple of St. Theodosius of the Caves.

Fr. Stefan is not the first priest and monk in his family. His grandfather’s cousin, Archpriest John Khilchuk, was a priest. Fr. John’s daughter, Matushka Raphaela (Khilchuk), directed the monastery choir and then served as abbess of Holy Trinity Stavropegial Monastery in Korets for 15 years.

It is interesting that the name of Fr. John Khilchuk is associated with the entry into the seminary and subsequent service of the current monastery Deacon Alexander Kharitoniuk.

"As high school students, my friend and I sang in the parish choir and served as altar servers at the Church of the Intercession of the Theotokos in our village of Zhirichi in the Volhynia region," says Fr. Alexander. "Toward the end of school, I began to think about what I wanted to do in life. I decided I would become a priest. My parents wanted me to first obtain a civil service profession and then, if I wanted, enroll in seminary. So I decided to seek God’s will for my future."

There was a renowned spiritual father in Ukraine, Archpriest John Khilchuk, who, as it later turned out, was a relative of the rector, Fr. Stefan. People from Belarus and various parts of Ukraine came to him. Alexander had two questions: whether to get a biometric passport and whether to enroll in seminary. He called Fr. John, but he did not seem very welcoming.

Alexander and his friends decided to go to the priest, hoping to speak with him privately. But they did not make it: Fr. John died.

Alexander’s father once spoke with him. Then Fr. John approached him and said, "Get your motorcycle and go – there is trouble at home." Cell phones did not exist back then. His father arrived home, and his sister really did need to be rushed to the hospital. He respected Fr. John and knew he was a man of holy life. When news of Fr. John’s death arrived, Alexander and his father went to the funeral. There was a snowstorm outside, and so many people in the church and on the street that it was impossible to get close. Alexander could not reach the coffin, only saying from a distance, "Father, bless me! What should I do?" That same night, Fr. John appeared to him in a dream and said:

– Do you want to enter seminary? Go ahead. I bless you. And try to be diligent in your studies, in your behavior, in prayer.

Alexander entered seminary. Almost immediately, he was assigned as a kitchen assistant, where he met a future monk of the monastery, Hieromonk Arkadii (Polishchuk). They became friends, and a few years later, Alexander came to America from Ukraine as a refugee.

"For several years now, refugees from Ukraine have been coming here and establishing their lives," says Fr. Stefan. "While some were not religious in their homeland, upon arriving in a foreign country, they find both faith and a community. The Orthodox Church becomes a unifying force for them beyond their homeland. At Liturgy, I commemorate the American people, and the long-suffering Ukrainian, Russian, Moldovan, Serbian, and Bulgarian people – all the countries from which people pray in our monastery."

The Path to the Abbacy

Fr. Stefan had intended to become a monk since he was twelve years old. After school, he immediately became a novice at the Dormition Monastery in the village of Nizkinichi near Novovolynsk. The monastery was originally founded in 1643 with the blessing of Metropolitan Peter Mogila of Kiev. On June 8, 1969, the monastery church reopened for services and was restored. Among those who contributed to its restoration was Archimandrite Pavel (Lebed), later Metropolitan of Vyshgorod & Chernobyl.

Near the church, the brethren built a fraternal building with cells, a refectory, utility rooms, and a house church in honor of the Holy Great-Martyr & Trophy-Bearer George.

"Two years passed at the monastery, and I entered the Volhynia Theological Seminary," says Fr. Stefan. "In 2004, after graduating from seminary, I returned to my monastery. On April 24, 2005, Palm Sunday, I received monastic tonsure, was ordained a hieromonk, and appointed dean of the monastery. I served as a monastic rubrician, working with the brethren and youth. The monastery was small – 12 brethren in all – but its youth movement was well-established. The new abbot – Archimandrite Vikenty (Mazur) – welcomed the initiative to meet with the youth. Retreats were organized, attended by Orthodox youth from Poland, Belarus, and other dioceses of Ukraine.

Blessings from American Saints

– Fr. Stefan, your American monastery is under the jurisdiction of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside of Russia. How did you meet its then First Hierarch, Metropolitan Hilarion (Kapral)?

"Metropolitan Hilarion appeared in my life long before I arrived in America. I was in 11th grade then. One day, I visited the Diocese of Vladimir-Volynsky with my grandmother. We were met by Fr. Michael Ivanitsky, a priest whom Vladyka Hilarion greatly respected.

Fr. Michael said to young Alexander: "Sasha, here are some icons of American saints. You have a fellow countryman who is currently serving in Australia – Archbishop Hilarion."

"It was nice, of course, but I was skeptical," Fr. Stefan recalls. "The Churches had not been united yet, so when would I see the bishop in Australia?"

The priest gave him two icons of American saints. Alexander came home and placed them in the iconostasis.

Years passed. Already a hieromonk at the monastery in Nizkinichi, he came to Jerusalem in 2008 and, seemingly by chance, met Metropolitan Hilarion on the Mount of Olives. Then the words of Fr. Michael Ivanitsky came to mind. They exchanged addresses, communicated occasionally, and almost ten years later, they met in America.

Everyday Life at St. Nicholas

"Upon arriving in Fort Myers, we served at St. Nicholas Monastery until the abbot transferred to the American Archdiocese of the Ecumenical Patriarchate in the fall of 2019," Fr. Stefan recounts. "We remained in the Church Abroad. We went to see Metropolitan Hilarion in New York, and he blessed us to return to Florida and gather the faithful who remained in the Church Abroad. Not long before, the future Fr. Arkadii (Polishchuk) arrived at St. Nicholas Monastery – first to work toward becoming a monk, God willing.

"In 2005, when I was about 10 years old, they started building a church in our town of Kovel," recalls Fr. Arkadii. "We children also helped. Father gave us crosses. My parents were not religious, but my mother took us to church on Pascha and before Pascha to confess and receive Holy Communion. She even suggested we fast moderately before Holy Communion."

Then Arkadii enrolled in Sunday school himself and has not left the church since. After graduating, he had two careers to choose from: kindergarten teacher or priest. When he told his mother he was planning to enter seminary, she recalled an experience she had had before he was born. When she was pregnant with Arkadii, she thought the 1990s would be difficult with three children. And in a dream, she heard a voice: "Everything will be fine, he will serve God." Later, she realized: God Himself had brought her son – first through a cross from the church, then through his desire to enter seminary. Arkadii entered the Kiev Theological Seminary. After completing his studies, he began working in the kitchen. After graduating, he was offered the opportunity to stay there.

"I had my doubts: after all, I studied to be a priest," he recalls. "I did not really want to work in the kitchen."

He decided to consult the elder and told him that he had been offered a job as a cook. The elder looked at him and said:

"The Lord taught you for six years to feed people spiritually, and now He wants to teach you to feed them physically." Arkadii was surprised: the elder did not know he was from the seminary, having come from a juvenile detention center where they fed the kids, and he arrived in ordinary secular clothes – jeans and a T-shirt. But the elder was precise: six years of study – four years in the seminary and two years at the academy. The elder also said that in a year or a year and a half, Arkadii would be serving. Returning to the seminary, he told the rector that he was ready to stay.

He worked as a cook for exactly a year, and then Fr. Stefan called and invited him to America.

"When I flew to America, I thought it was a godless country," says Fr. Arkadii. "But after living here for six years, America opened up to me in a new way: the people here are truly Christian. There are few Orthodox Christians, of course, but they love God. Christmas and Easter are holidays, everything is closed. I walked through customs in a cassock, and the officer treated me with respect, asked almost no questions, and let me through right away."

In August 2019, Arkadii began his ministry at St. Nicholas Monastery in Fort Myers. He was a novice, sang in the choir, and worked in the kitchen. On the Feast of the Protection of the Mother of God, they were forced to leave the monastery and decided to name their future monastery in honor of the Protection.

– Was it Metropolitan Hilarion who tonsured you into monasticism?

"Yes," Fr. Arkadii replies. "It is interesting that in 2007, the year the Act of Canonical Communion between the Russian Church in the Fatherland and the Church Abroad was signed, then-Archbishop Hilarion made his first visit to Volhynia, where we lived and where his relatives live. I was about 14 years old, and I attended a service led by Archbishop Hilarion of Australia & New Zealand. After the service, I approached Archbishop Hilarion, and he embraced me. I was amazed by such simplicity, such fatherly love. I thought then: how wonderful it would be if he ordained me to the priesthood. I did not even know he was so far away. But that is what happened."

When Arkadii arrived in America, Metropolitan Hilarion called and said, "Come to New York." On December 23, 2019, he was tonsured a monk and then ordained a deacon and priest.

"I was surprised then that at Liturgy during my diaconal ordination, Metropolitan Hilarion celebrated, and then-Bishop Nicholas (Olhovsky), our current First Hierarch, sang in the choir. It turns out that I was ordained by two First Hierarchs – the current and the future one. My diaconal ordination took place in the Church of St. Sergius of Radonezh on the first floor of the Synod of Bishops, and my priestly ordination took place in the Synodal Cathedral of the Sign.

"Metropolitan Hilarion asked us what we wanted to name the community. When he heard that we wanted to name it for the Holy Protection, he said: ‘I was praying and thought that there are many Holy Protection churches in the Church Abroad, and I would like you to name your future monastery in honor of the Pochaev Icon of the Mother of God.’

"We ourselves wanted the church, and eventually the monastery, to be called by a name that was dear to us," recalls Fr. Arkadii. "The bishop’s decision warmly touched my heart. The bishop handwrote the name of our church and handed me a piece of paper."

We are organizing a "Pochaev"

Today, the monastery is located in the town of North Port, near mineral springs famous in America, especially among Russian-speaking people. Local Native Americans called it the "fountain of youth" and considered it sacred, and experts claim that its mineral content surpasses that of such renowned world resorts as Karlovy Vary in the Czech Republic, Vichy in France, and Baden-Baden in Germany.

Seven years ago, deprived of the monastic labors and prayer, Fr. Stefan planned to return to Ukraine. But Metropolitan Hilarion blessed him and Fr. Arkadii to found a new monastery, gave them an antimension, and they temporarily served on Sundays in the chapel of the "Seven Arrows" Icon of the Mother of God, while simultaneously searching for their own premises.

"Then we served in a Serbian church," says Fr. Stefan. "The same parishioners who attended St. Nicholas Monastery in Fort Myers came to the services. In December 2019, we managed to find a space. The official opening of the monastery community was held on St. Nicholas Day."

In 2020, during Great Lent, on the Sunday of St. Gregory Palamas, Metropolitan Hilarion came to visit them.

"What should I bring you?" he asked. He gave them warm socks for the Florida winter. They had no money for rent then. The Chicago Diocese helped: they sent about 10,000 dollars, and the brethren began serving in their first rented building. Back then, no one knew what the monastery would become or whether people would come. They were told there were many Protestants here and that most Russian-speaking people, including recent arrivals, attended them. But with each service, more and more people came to the monastery.

When they celebrated Pascha in 2021, the atmosphere in the church was reminiscent of ancient Christian times. The soul rejoiced, even though they only had enough money to pay the rent. Behind the altar was a small room, which became the monks’ first temporary residence.

In 2022, they rented half of the house. By that time, Hierodeacon Paisius (Alexeevets), also a graduate of Kiev Seminary, had arrived.

"People usually ask me when I started going to church," says Fr. Paisius. "And I answer that I did not start walking, but that they started carrying me."

His parents were classmates and married young, both 19 years old. Archpriest Pavel Koval, rector of the rural St. Elijah Church in the village of Zaluzh’e in the Rivne region, played a major role in Paisius’ spiritual development. A spiritual man, he brought many to the church. People from other villages and regions came to him for advice.

"Thanks to him, four priests and three deacons, including three monks and two nuns, have come from our village. There are also seminarians and clergy wives. If we all gather together for the patronal feast, we shall have a full altar and a full choir. And all of them are our own!"

Fr. Paisius’ first impression of America was simple and vivid: different roads, different cars, people dressed differently, a different culture.

– What does your new monastery property represent?

"It used to be a warehouse," Fr. Stefan explains. "And initially, the building was set up as a rehabilitation center for a Protestant community of addicts. They made crafts in the former garage, where our church is now. The rehabilitation center was run by a Protestant named Alexander from Belarus, and they were delighted that it would once again be a church."

It was Lent and Pascha was approaching.

"The Lord has consoled and encouraged us again," says Fr. Stefan. "Truckers drive past our church building and stop to pray. That evening, Sergei arrived from Canada. He had room in his truck, and he and our parishioners transported all our icons to the new building. While they were unloading the icons, the women prepared the first meal in this church. A week later, on the day of the 40 Martyrs, we held our first service in the new building."

The first few days after acquiring the property, services were held outdoors, and on Palm Sunday, indoors. But celebrating Pascha Liturgy outdoors was impossible. The brethren alerted neighbors and the police about the service. And they were surprised by how many new people arrived. Only the old church had a notice about moving. The monastery was not listed on Google yet. Who told these people?

The church was packed for the Pascha night service. Parishioners had been warned to keep quiet. But Fr. Alexander proclaimed "Christ is Risen!" so loudly that the echo of "Indeed He is Risen!" echoed throughout the street. There was such joy! And tears…

At three o’clock on Pascha afternoon, they served the Paschal Matins service, followed by the breaking of the fast. The refectory was filled with parishioners and guests. There was a children’s party: children collected eggs, as is customary in Christian parishes in America.

The Monastery as a Family

– Fr. Stefan, how do you see the future of the monastery?

Fr. John Krestyankin once answered this question: "The era of large monasteries is already a thing of the past." Moreover, here, outside the Motherland, monasteries, which are more like families, are important today. Essentially, every monastery is a large Christian family. The core of the monastery is the Liturgy.

The brethren perform morning and evening services without abbreviations, trying to preserve the Volyn chants.

"These are beautiful hymns; they are my home and are the link between my current monastery and my home," says Fr. Stefan. "We strive to serve only in Church Slavonic. This language unites Ukrainians, Russians, Belarusians, Moldovans, Serbs, and Bulgarians. Thanks to the language, parishioners understand the services and participate in them. The entire brotherhood prays at the services."

– If a person goes to a monastery, what should be his main goal?

"The primary goal of a Christian, and especially a monk, is to be at prayer and attend services. Everything else is secondary. Unfortunately, there is a trend these days of turning monasteries into "Disneylands" – cloisters that are beautiful on the outside.

Fr. Stefan recalls the story of one abbess of holy life. The sisters said to her, "Mother, let us make some front gardens." But she replied, "No need, sisters. The most important thing in the monastery is the service, the most important thing is prayer." Then she added, "There will be times when there will be front gardens and flowers, but few nuns will attend services."

"Unfortunately, that is how it is in this monastery right now. The nuns walk among the flowers. Even though there are about 200 nuns there, the church is often empty: a few people sing, a few read. I am not against flowers, but everything should be in moderation, and the emphasis should be placed correctly. The main emphasis, of course, should be Liturgy, the Eucharist, and the understanding that today it is important not to turn the monastery into an agricultural enterprise."

– What about the inner life of the monastic brethren? How do you see it?

Few who come to pray at a monastery can grasp the complex inner life of its monks and nuns. And here the abbot must demonstrate extraordinary patience – both with himself and with the shortcomings of others. I have read that no one can humble a monk as much as another monk, and no one can humble an abbot as much as his brethren. Patience and humility are our salvation. Believers know that we must endure many sorrows to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. But no one knows these sorrows.

According to Fr. Stefan, people cannot be identical, made "like carbon copies." But it is important for the abbot to lovingly arrange life so that different people complement each other like puzzle pieces.

– What would you wish for those who come to your monastery, and for those who are far away and cannot come?

"I wish for myself and others that we learn to listen to God and understand God’s will. At seminary, the father-rector taught us: learn to listen and hear. I did not attach much importance to this back then. It seemed like he was saying trivial things. But in reality, it is crucial to listen to the other person and delve into what they are saying. If we learn to listen to each other, we will learn to hear both God’s voice and God’s will."

Fr. Stefan believes it is important to pay close attention to those around you, to learn from them. When he served at St. Nicholas Monastery in Fort Myers, two nuns from Vladimir-on-Klyazma – Mother Arsenia and Mother Antonia – assisted him. One day, he learned and was amazed that he had been tonsured a nun on the same day as them, and they ended up at the monastery in America together.

"And how beautifully they communicated spiritually, how beautifully they sang! Today, I maintain a spiritual connection with the nuns. They live in Russia, they are missionaries, they have the gift of communication, and they find common ground with anyone, they speak from the heart, they show the beauty of Orthodoxy."

Over the years in the monastery, over the years of communicating with a wide variety of people, Fr. Stefan realized that with God there are no accidents.

"The Lord wisely assembles the puzzle pieces. At first, we do not always understand it, but over time, His wisdom and His providence for us are revealed."

Interview by Tatiana Veselkina
Photo: by the author and from the archives of Archimandrite Stephen and the Pochaev Monastery