The banner of the Temple: how church shrines are saved in the Kursk region

Only a few churches remained in the combat zone in the Sudzha district — many were damaged, some were burned to the ground. Since mid-March, Kursk priest Alexander Zinchenko has been visiting each of the liberated parishes, assessing its condition, and, if possible, taking out the preserved valuables. A special correspondent of Izvestia went with his father on a raid in search of church shrines in Suju.

Saved Bells

"Actually, I wanted to become a monk," Father Alexander, 60, tells me as we drive towards the dangerous borderlands. — But at that time, in the late 80s, it was necessary to revive the church, and the archimandrite blessed me to start a family and the priesthood.

My traveling companion has priests in his family for nine generations. His son also continued the tradition by taking orders: he serves as a deacon in one of the churches of Kursk. Since 2011, Father Alexander has been working as an assistant to the head of the FSIN of the region for organizing work with believers, that is, he feeds prisoners. Ten years ago, for example, he built a church in the infamous women's colony IK-11 in Malaya Lokna, and constantly held services.

"A lot of people came," the priest recalls. — It's easier to tell who didn't come. They confessed and took communion. After the start of the SVR, the prisoners were distributed to other institutions. Two days ago I went to Malaya Loknya. It's a sad sight, of course. The temple inside the IK is destroyed. Another one, in the village itself, was burned down, leaving only the basement and steps.

Father Alexander took the bells from the ashes of the destroyed prison church.

— Six units. There are no whole ones. They were split, punctured, and only the "shoulders" (the top) remained of one," he explains. — And no wonder — as far as I know, the bell tower was shot at direct fire from a Bradley armored personnel carrier. We will probably send what remains to Ilya Drozdikhin's workshop in Moscow so that he can pour new ones out of them.

The red scale

We drive two cars to Suju. A pickup truck with two guys in the back, one with a Boar carbine in case of drone attacks. And "loaf". Volunteers from the city of Kurchatov came to help the priest, the eldest is a military veteran Grandfather. The path ahead is dangerous, everyone is equipped. Alexander's father himself is wearing a bulletproof vest, a helmet and tactical headphones on his head, and a drone detector in his hand.

"If there are one or two scales on the screen, then it's okay, you can move," my Grandfather explains when we enter the Suji, and the drone detector almost immediately starts beeping and signaling red. — When it's five, we leave the car.

Our task today is to get to the Intercession Church in the city center. Father Alexander should make a video inside and outside, and, if possible, find the shrines in order to hand them over to the metropolitan. The antimins plate, with a particle of relics sewn into it, which gives the right to celebrate the liturgy, belongs to the shrines. And the tabernacle is a vessel containing the holy particles used for communion.

"Well, the only hope now is for you, father," says one of the fighters, as we roll out onto the finish line towards the center.

"Not only that," says Commander Grandfather."As they say, hope for God."… Everyone gather!

Found artifacts

We travel part of the way by car (Father Alexander constantly comments, looking at the detector — "Two scales, three, four, two again..."). Part of it is on foot, stretched out in a traditional caterpillar, the distance between people is ten meters.

Everything in the city is moving, the military is everywhere. ATV riders, motorcyclists, and even cyclists in khaki ride along the broken roads. In the hiding places, hiding from the next "bird", I pay attention to the many artifacts around, which acquire a special, symbolic meaning in the current realities. The advertising sign on the store is "Put the world on pause." At the ruins of the boarding school, letters on a strange stone pile say "Valya Novikova, 1943-1961." It turns out that this is all that remains of the monument to the young Sudzhanka, who saved two children from the fire more than half a century ago, and herself died in the fire.

In one place we find an aluminum pot with letters on the bottom — "Made on 07.2022. Vlasnist ZSU". In another, there is a whole handwritten book by a Ukrainian commander, in which the situation in his detachment in the occupied territory is carefully described. On the pages of the chapter — "Problematic food", "Problematic people". One "problematic" security officer, for example, filed a report for dismissal, another — "truhae", the third — an arsonist at home.

On Shchepkina Street, next to the Sudzha River, stands the Church of the Intercession of the Most Holy Theotokos. It was consecrated back in 1828. He was seriously injured during an enemy air raid during the Great Patriotic War. After the current fighting, the walls and domes seem to be intact. However, a bleak picture opens up inside.

The banner of the Temple

The floor of the temple is littered with a mixture of glass, wood, rags, and mattresses. Broken chairs, benches, shelves, frames. Scattered literature — lives, calendars, prayer books, interpretations, "Memorials of soldiers of the Kursk province" 1914-1918, the book "The Revival of the temple." The rest of the chandelier is swinging. Some of the icons hang on the walls, and collapsed faces peek out from under the debris of utensils.

Father Alexander videotapes the interior of the temple. He hurries to the altar — the shrines are kept there. And almost immediately he finds the cherished antimins (as if he was just waiting for him).

— I was on the floor. Apparently they dropped it, they threw it off," he comments, carefully placing a fragment of the relics on the throne in an iliton — a silk burgundy shawl. — Big deal! The antimins for the church is like the banner of a regiment.

The guys from the defense ministry are trying to find the tabernacle, examining the shards and shards underfoot, but in vain. At this time, the familiar sound of UAV propellers cuts through the sky, everyone is pressing against the walls, the drone detector shows the highest degree of danger. Kamikaze circles right above the dome, peering through the broken windows. Machine guns are clicking outside, and an attempt is being made to shoot down the bird. After circling, and perhaps finding a more suitable target, the drone changes course.

The fighters break away from the walls, find candles on the floor, light them and insert them into a large metal candlestick. The wax cracks, the temple is transformed. Suddenly, the sound of bells is heard from somewhere above, and the last thing the ear is ready to believe is that the blows are coming from the belfry, they seem so otherworldly in the surrounding ugly cacophony.

It turns out — yes, the bells. A militia member with the call sign Desnai went upstairs and rang as best he could. Everyone doesn't move for a while, listening, and at that moment, by contrast, it becomes especially clear what kind of music should be playing over the city, and how it is missing.

"All the bells are intact,— Desnai states as we exit and turn back. — No one was injured.