Tag Archives: Destiny

Fr Nicholas Gibbes: The First English Disciple of Tsar Nicholas II and the First English Priest of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia

A Talk given at Barton Manor near Osborne House on the Isle of Wight on 7 July 2018.

In this centenary year of the martyrdom of Tsar Nicholas II, his August Family, their servants and the Grand Duchess Elizabeth, it would be well to recall their first English disciple and the first ever English Russian Orthodox priest, Fr Nicholas Gibbes.

Charles Sydney Gibbes, for short Sydney Gibbes, was born 142 years ago, on 19 January 1876. In the 19th century this was for all Orthodox the feast day of St John the Baptist, the voice that cried in the wilderness. His parents were called John and Mary – more English than that you cannot find. His father was a bank manager in Rotherham, just outside Sheffield, in Yorkshire. Amusingly, this would later be recorded by a Russian civil servant on Sydney’s residence papers in Russia as ‘Rotterdam’.

With no fewer than ten siblings, Sydney grew into a stereotypical, Victorian, Protestant young man of the educated classes. He received his education at Cambridge, where he changed the spelling of his surname to Gibbes, from Gibbs, as the adopted form is the older, historical one. This change was typical of his love of historical detail and accuracy. Sydney is described as: severe, stiff, self-restrained, imperturbable, quiet, gentlemanly, cultured, pleasant, practical, simple, brave, loyal, lucid, witty, crisp, vigorous, honourable, reliable, impeccably clean, with high character, of good sense and with agreeable manners. He seems the perfect Victorian English Yorkshire gentleman – not a man with such an unusual destiny.

However, as we know from history, underneath Victorian gentlemen lurked other sides – repressed, but still present. For example, we know that Sydney could be stubborn, that he used corporal punishment freely, that he could be very awkward with others, and he is recorded as having quite a temper, though these traits mellowed greatly with the years. My good friend from Oxford days long ago, Dmitri Kornhardt, recalled how in later life tears would stream down Fr Nicholas’ face when celebrating services in memory of the Imperial Martyrs, but how also he would very rapidly recover himself after such unEnglish betrayals of emotion.

Underneath the Victorian reserve there was indeed a hidden man, one with spiritual sensitivity, who was interested in theatre and theatricals, spiritualism, fortune-telling and palmistry, and one who was much prone to recording his dreams. Perhaps this is why, when after University he had been thinking of the Anglican priesthood as a career, he found it ‘stuffy’ and abandoned that path. Talking to those who knew him and reading his biographies, and there are three of them, we cannot help feeling that as a young man Sydney was searching for something – but he knew not what. The real man would eventually come out from beneath his Victorian conditioning.

Perhaps this is why in 1901, aged 25, he found himself teaching English in Russia – a country with which he had no connection. Here he was to spend over 17 years. The key moment came in autumn 1908 when he went to the Imperial Palace in Tsarskoe Selo and became the English tutor of the Imperial children. In particular, he became close to the Tsarevich Alexis, with whom he identified very closely. Why? We can only speculate that there was a sympathy or else complementarity of characters; together with Sydney’s bachelordom, this may have been enough for the friendship to develop. In any case, he became almost a member of the Imperial Family and a profound and lifelong admirer of what he called, as an eyewitness, their exemplary Christian Faith, close family life and kindness. His meeting with this Family changed his life forever and he only ever spoke of them with profound admiration.

In August 1917 Sydney found himself following the Family to Tobolsk. Utterly loyal to the Family, in July 1918 he found himself in Ekaterinburg, the city in the Urals between Asia and Europe, East and West, after their unspeakable murder in the Ipatiev House. He helped identify objects, returning again and again to the House, picking up mementoes, which he was to cling on to until the end, and still reluctant to believe that the crime had taken place. Coming almost half way through his life when he was aged 42, this was without doubt the crucial event in that life, the turning point, the spark that made him seek out his destiny in all seriousness. With the murder of the Family, the bottom had fallen out of his life, his raison d’etre had gone. Where could he go from here?

He did not, like most, return to England. We know that he, like Tsar Nicholas, had been particularly shocked by what he saw as the British betrayal of the Imperial Family. Indeed, we know that it was George Buchanan, the British ambassador to St Petersburg, who had in part been behind the February 1917 deposition of the Tsar by treacherous aristocrats, politicians and generals. This coup d’etat was greeted by Lloyd George in the House of Commons as the ‘achievement of one of our war aims’. (We now also know from the book by Andrew Cook that it was British spies who had assassinated Gregory Rasputin and also that the Tsar’s own cousin, George V, had refused to help the Tsar and His Family escape).

In fact, disaffected by Britain’s politics, from Ekaterinburg Sydney went not west, but east – to Siberian Omsk and then further east, to Beijing and then Harbin in Manchuria. Off and on he would spend another 17 years here, in Russian China. In about 1922 he suffered a serious illness. His religiosity seems to have grown further and after this he would go to study for the Anglican priesthood at St Stephen’s House in Oxford. However, for someone with the world-changing experience that he had had, that was not his way; perhaps he still found Anglicanism ‘stuffy’, I think he would have found almost anything stuffy after what he had been through – seeing his adopted Family wiped out. Finally, in 1934, in Harbin, Sydney joined the Far Eastern Metropolia of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia.

There is no doubt that he did this as a direct result of the example of the Imperial Family, for he took the Orthodox name of Alexis – the name of the Tsarevich, whom he naturally saw as a martyr. He was to describe this act as ‘getting home after a long journey’, words which perhaps describe the reception into the Orthodox Church of any Western person. Thus, from England, to Russia and then to China, he had found his way. In December 1934, aged almost 59, he became successively monk, deacon and priest. He was now to be known as Fr Nicholas – a name deliberately taken in honour of the martyred Tsar Nicholas. In 1935 he was made Abbot by Metr Antony of Kiev, the head of our multinational Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia, and later received the title of Archimandrite.

Wishing to establish some ‘Anglo-Orthodox organisation’, in 1937 Fr Nicholas Gibbes came back to live in England permanently. He was aged 61. Of this move he wrote: ‘It is my earnest hope that the Anglican Church should put itself right with the Holy Orthodox Church’. He went to live in London in the hope of setting up an English-language parish within the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia. In this he did not succeed and in 1940 he moved to Oxford. In this last part of his life in Oxford he became the founder of the first Russian Orthodox church in Oxford at 4, Marston Street, where he lived in humble and modest circumstances. In recalling the address of that first church, dedicated to St Nicholas, we cannot help recalling that today’s Russian Orthodox St Nicholas church in Oxford is not very far away from it.

Not an organiser, sometimes rather erratic, even eccentric, Fr Nicholas was not perhaps an ideal parish priest, but he was sincere and well-respected. In Oxford he cherished his mementoes of the Imperial Family to the end. Before he departed this life, on 24 March 1963, an icon given to him by the Imperial Family, was miraculously renewed and began to shine. One who knew him at the time confirmed this and after Fr Nicholas’ death, commented that now at last Fr Nicholas was seeing the Imperial Family again – for he had been waiting for this moment for 45 years. He was going to meet once more those who had shaped his destiny in this world.

In the 1980s in an old people’s home outside Paris I met a parishioner of our Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia, Count Nikolai Komstadius. He had met Fr Nicholas in 1954, in connection with the false Anastasia, but perhaps had seen him before, since his father had been in charge of the Tsarskoe Selo estate and he himself had been a childhood friend of the Tsarevich. I remember in the 1980s visiting him. In the corner of his room in front of an icon of the martyred Tsarevich there burned an icon-lamp. He turned to me and said: ‘That is such a good likeness, it is just like him and yet also it is an icon’. Not many of us lives to see a childhood playfriend become a saint and have his icon painted. Yet as a young man in his thirties Fr Nicholas had known a whole family, whom he considered to be saints. Indeed, he had been converted by their example.

There are those who have life-changing experiences. They are fortunate, because they stop living superficially, stop drifting through life and stop wasting God-sent opportunities and so find their destiny. Such life-changing experiences can become a blessing if we allow them to become so. Fr Nicholas was one such person, only his life-changing experience was also one that had changed the history of the whole world. For a provincial Victorian Yorkshire bank manager’s son, who had grown up with his parents John and Mary, he had come very far. And yet surely the seeds had been there from the beginning. To be converted we first of all need spiritual sensitivity, a seeking spirit, but secondly we also need an example. Fr Nicholas had had both, the example being the Imperial Martyrs. As that late and wonderful gentlewoman Princess Koutaissova, whom many of us knew, said of his priesthood: ‘He was following his faithfulness to the Imperial Family’.

In this brief talk I have not mentioned many aspects of Fr Nicholas’ life, such as his possible engagement, his adopted son, his hopes in Oxford. This is because they do not interest me much here. I have tried to focus on the essentials, on the spiritual meaning of his life, his destiny. Those essentials are, I believe, to be found in his haunted and haunting gaze. Looking at his so expressive face, we see a man staring into the distance, focusing on some vision, both of the past and of the future. This vision was surely of the past life he had shared with the martyred Imperial Family and also of the future – his long hoped-for meeting with them once more, his ‘sense of completion’.

 

After a Century of Demonic Possession

Destiny exists. In Christian language it is called God’s Will. God’s Will exists not just for individuals, but also for whole nations. Whole nations receive a calling to do God’s Will. Such is the case for Russia. Its calling came as part of the process of 2,000 years of Christian history. This history began with Christ and went through two great events. The first, after nearly 300 years of persecution and martyrdom, was the proclamation of the future St Constantine as the first Christian Emperor, on 25 July 306 in York in Britain. The second was the martyrdom of the future St Nicholas II as the last Christian Emperor to date, on 17 July 1918 in the very centre of Northern Eurasia. By his martyrdom he united East and West, becoming the personal embodiment of the double-headed eagle. His martyrdom marked the start of a century of demonic possession, during which the Christian Empire was abolished.

Between St Constantine and St Nicholas, the centre and capital of the Christian Empire was transferred from distant European Rome, become provincial, to the Eurasian New Rome (Constantinople) and from there, after its sacking by the West in 1204 and the East in 1453, to the Third Rome (Moscow). By 1453, having passed through the dark crucible of aggressive Western ‘crusades’ and the Eastern Tartar yoke, Russia was ready to accept its Divine destiny as the defender of Christendom against heretics and infidels alike. For over 500 years it lived for Christ, despite setbacks, weaknesses and further Western assaults, until the fateful year of 1917, when it was betrayed. 100 years on from then nearly all now understand that huge and tragic mistake of accepting the illusory Western ideology of Marxism in 1917 with its utterly false promise of paradise on earth, which at once turned into hell on earth.

Today, however, Russia, through repentance for its delusion and through the restoration of Orthodoxy, is on the path once more to its inevitable destiny. True, Russia faces once more, just as in 1917, Western-funded and Western-orchestrated dissidence by greedy and corrupt oligarchs (who, ironically, camouflage their real power-grabbing aims under the mask of being against corruption). For them Russia is simply to become another nationalistic state, like so many others in Western Europe, which, as the provincials they are, they idolize. Russia has, they say, no multinational and international, that is, no Imperial, vocation. This is exactly what the West (the self-appointed ‘international community’, in fact a tyrannical, anti-international ghetto) wants Russia to be reduced to.

The West fears the spiritual power of Russian Orthodoxy, its Christian Civilization and values, its call to the Risen and Living Christ against the dead Western Mammon. This comes at a time when the European Union, the Fourth Reich, in the words of the notoriously Russophobic British Foreign Minister Johnson, is in chaos. This collapse comes as a result of its hubris in imposing the euro, its open Muslim immigration policy (refusing to solve the problems at source), and Brexit, which itself is the result of the two above policies. At the same time, Roman Catholicism, the medieval ancestor of the centrally-controlled EU tyranny, is also in chaos, under a Pope who appears to be a liberal humanist rather than a Christian, that is, an anti-people (anti-populist, in his own words) Pope.

While Brexitland UK is refusing to pay the EU for indulgences in what is a Second Reformation, 500 years after the first one, a magnificent Russian church of All the Saints is being raised up in Strasbourg, the capital of the EU. (https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=eglise+russe+strasbourg&rlz=1C1CAFB_enGB663GB665&espv=2&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjOyuz9uYHTAhWkD8AKHXTCCmMQ_AUICCgD&biw=1024&bih=470). It is a symbol of the rise of Russian Orthodoxy in the spiritually degutted Western tip of Northern Eurasia, as its local Orthodox saints are being included in the Russian Orthodox calendar. It means that all Russian Orthodoxy in Continental Europe, already 80% of the Russian Orthodox Church in Western Europe, will come under the direct jurisdiction of Moscow. It leaves the Anglosphere under the jurisdiction of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia. This is the Will of God, not of man.

Understanding Recent Russian History

We have not forgiven Lenin for anything.

Metropolitan Nestor (Anisimov) of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia in China, who ordained Fr Nicholas Gibbes of Oxford and after 1945 spent many years in Soviet camps. His words were recorded by his godson, the writer A.K. Karaulov.

After the Nazi surrender Private Theodore Valikov, then aged 20, had to serve in Germany. In spring 1946 he found himself driving his officer to the main railway station in Berlin. With time to spare he decided to visit the Reichstag where he had not been before. Leaving his friend in the lorry, he entered the large hall on the ground floor and suddenly saw Tsar Nicholas II, standing on the third step of the dais in his colonel’s uniform with epaulettes, a sword at his side, just as he had seen in a portrait of him kept by his pious aunt in his home village. The Sovereign was inspecting the building which had been fought over in the final victory over the enemy. By the time that the soldier had realized what had happened, the Tsar had disappeared. Later he interpreted the vision, saying that it showed that the Tsar was at the head of the victorious army. After the war Theodore was tonsured monk at the Pskov Caves Monastery.

Hieromonk Theodorit (Valikov, + 9 July 2002) in ‘Russia Before the Second Coming’, compiled by S. and T, Fomin, Third Edition, Saint Petersburg 1998, Vol 2, P. 279

Why do they so hate Russia, the Orthodox Faith and the Church just now? Because they know that Russia will stand up to Antichrist…Antichrist will even fear the Russian Tsar. Russia will be reborn only with Orthodoxy and beneath the protection of the Russian Tsar. There will be God-pleasing elders, just as there were before, until the end of the world. Such is the prophecy of St Laurence of Chernigov.

Igumen Kheruvim Degtariov

The conflict between liberal democracy and Marxism-Leninism was a conflict of ideologies, which, despite all the differences, still had the same external aims: freedom, equality and prosperity. But traditional Russia, with its authority and nationhood, will strive for completely different aims.

Professor Samuel Huntingdon

A Western democrat can very easily have an intellectual debate with a Soviet Marxist. But this would be unthinkable with a traditional Russian. If Russians stop being Marxists, but do not accept liberal democracy and begin to behave like Russians and not Westerners, relations between Russia and the West will once more become estranged and hostile….

The West will never tolerate the rebirth of Holy Rus. It will always try to annihilate us, foisting on us as heroes its one-time agents of influence (to a greater or lesser extent): Lenin, Trotsky or Stalin. It will always strive by any means available to blacken and slander our Orthodox Civilization and our holy Tsar, in order through them to besmirch and compromise our Orthodox Church and our present State, blowing them apart from inside. Unfortunately, many in the State and also in the Church still do not understand the direct connection between these phenomena. Our victory can only be realized when we all go into battle, not for Stalin and Lenin, nor for liberalism and democracy, nor for oil and gas, but for Holy Rus, for our friends, as our ancestors did before us…

It was precisely Moscow that received the great and responsible mission to be the Third Rome, restraining the world from falling into the abyss of evil. This is not some invention or bragging. Mosow was in no way better than Kiev or Vladimir when it became the centre of the Russian Land. The great mission was given to us, not by rebellious human desire, but by the will of God. Our mission has nothing to do with….so-called ‘Russian nationalism’. Our mission is the rebirth of Russian Civilization, in which all nationalities who wish it are united for life in God and with God, in the world of Goodness and Justice, in which we can stand up to the atheistic and anti-human Western ‘New Order’, whose aim is to annihilate man as God’s creation.

Petr Multatuli, Contemporary Russian Historian