Archpriest Oleg Kirilov

Archpriest Oleg Kirilov (1945-2016)

Kirilov may be spelt Kirilow, Kirillov.

Early life of Oleg Kirilov

On 20 September, 1945, Oleg Kirilov was born in West Berlin, Germany. He was the son of parents who had fled the Russian Empire at the time of the Bolshevik Revolution in 1917. They had established themselves in Berlin, Germany, and they had by God's Grace survived World War II in that city.

By 1945, they were barely surviving in the occupied post-war West Berlin of the now-divided Germany. Being born on the Feast-day of Saint Prince Oleg of Bryansk, he received the name of this saint. (This is a well-known custom in the Orthodox Christian Church.) It was not easy for such émigré families in West Berlin just after the end of World War II. Oleg grew up in this atmosphere. Until the age of 6, he did not speak German (within his family they spoke only in Russian) ; but, of course he knew a little German from meeting people.

Then Oleg went to the German school, where he started speaking only in German. After a while, he could hardly speak any Russian, but he eventually revived it. His parents were old “white” immigrants (members of Russian society that did not accept either the Bolshevik government or communist ideology). Their attitude to the Soviet regime was, of course, negative – like that of all “white” immigrants. He was brought up at home in a spirit of monarchism. His father was not very happy when Oleg, later on as a a young man, many times visited the Soviet Union (which began in East Berlin). However, Oleg said that he found it to be an interesting experience.

Oleg wrote in his memoir that he had a very, very good godfather. He says that it is thanks to him that he became a priest. When he was small, his godfather would carry him to the Temple of God to take Holy Communion. Then, when he grew, he walked with him. When he was old enough, his godfather arranged for him to serve in the Temple as an Altar boy. Thus, he became a “church person” (the translation of the Russian expression “tserkovniy” which implies that the person’s life is focussed on the Church).

Father Oleg wrote that his mother was very pious, very religious. He said that his father, too, was a believer, but for some reason he was not happy with the fact that his son would become a priest. His grandparents were also very religious. Oleg commented that his father, by the way, belonged to the Terek Cossacks (a Cossack host created in 1577 from free Cossacks who resettled from the Volga River to the Terek River). His father graduated from the Cadet Corps in Vladikavkaz (capital city of the North Ossetia republic in Russia, located in the southeast of the republic at the foothills of the Caucasus Mountains, situated on the Terek River). He wrote that his mother was originally from Yekaterinburg in the Sverdlovsk Oblast. On his mother’s side, he was a relative of the famous Russian writer, Dmitry Mamin-Sibiryak. When he lived in Russia, he visited Yekaterinburg, and met there with people regarding this matter.

He had written in his memoir that from an early age he was a “church person”. However, he said that it is also true that in his life there was a moment when he turned away from the Church. When he was about 18, he was busy with other things (young people often have other interests) so he did not think that he had time to go to church. Nevertheless, while he was still in Berlin, an event occurred in 1965, which was related in an article by Yuri Sokolovski of Toronto, Ontario :

 Once, Oleg Kirilov was passing by a Russian Orthodox Church in West Berlin on his 
 motorcycle, when suddenly he felt a strong desire to stop the bike.  What forced him 
 to stop - we can only guess.  It could be some ache deep in his heart, or the beauty 
 of the church attracted him - we would never know for sure.  We can only guess what 
 was on the mind of a young, gifted man, who likely would have had a very successful 
 life in one of the fastest growing Western countries of that time (his parents 
 wanted him to become a lawyer).  But nevertheless he stopped and walked into the 
 church on that sunny day.  And he never looked back.

He tells us that when he then returned to the Church, he returned consciously. He noted that people often asked him : “How did you become a priest?”. He replied that he had not had any visions or anything supernatural. However, he just fell in love with the Church. And the Church became his life.

Move to West Germany, 1958

In 1945, as is well known, Berlin was occupied by the Soviet Army. Later, Berlin was divided into Soviet, American, British and French sectors. Oleg’s family lived in the British sector.

When, in 1958, Nikita Sergeyevich Khrushchev began the Berlin Crisis, his parents decided to leave Berlin, and they moved to the Federal Republic of Germany (Western Germany), and to Düsseldorf. There, of course, he also went to church with his parents. In time, he graduated from high school ("gymnasium") in the same city.

Early travels

Then, for the first time, he visited America (the USA), just to see what it was like. Somehow, he found that he did not like America. Somewhere deep inside, he understood that he was still more European.

He returned to Germany, and there he entered the Russian Orthodox monastery in Munich, because he felt that he wanted to become a monk. For a year, he was “an obedient” in the monastery (he lived in obedience amongst the brethren, but he was not yet clothed as a novice). Nevertheless, although he did not become a monk, he remained single for the rest of his life. He kept thinking, though, that perhaps someday, before death, he might be able to take monastic vows.

Oleg travelled to the Soviet Union several times when he was younger, at times when it was possible. When he went for the very first time, of course he imagined something like a Tsarist Russia (his family were brought up that way). From Paris, he flew to Leningrad (Saint Petersburg), and the impression was simply stunning. As he walked along Nevsky Prospect, everything was in Russian : people spoke in Russian. There, he went to some of the churches (those that were still open). Then he went to Moscow, and he even flew to the Caucasus region, the homeland of his father. His uncle was still alive there. He wrote in his memoir that, in general, it felt pretty good to him during those first visits to the Soviet Union.

Theological education

He decided to get a theological education. He therefore went to Paris, to study at the Russian Orthodox Theological Institute of Saint Sergius of Radonezh. This institute was founded by Russian immigrants, and it remains well-known. He graduated from the institute in due time. Following are extracts from his memoirs, translated into English :

About the old immigrants

I personally knew of some of the famous Russians. For example, Felix and Irina
Yusupov had been helping our Institute [of Saint-Serge]. When Felix Yusupov died,
the funeral service was in the cathedral church [of Saint Alexander Nevsky]. His
wife continued to help us, and was giving us, the students, some pocket money.
Somehow she singled me out. I’d come visit and sit with her more often... Multiple
times she would invite me to her birthday party. It was a gathering of mostly the
old immigrants. Really old - old men and women. And us, two or three students,
myself included. Listening to their conversations, of course, was very boring for
us. And once I noticed that three birthdays in a row she was celebrating her 70th
anniversary. Then I asked her : ‘Princess, haven’t you already celebrated the 70th
anniversary last year ?’ Embarrassed she said, ‘Oh, Olezhka [Russian friendly form
of Oleg], how did you notice ? Well sure, this time I'll add one more year’.

I also knew Prince Vladimir Golitsyn, not the serene one, but the other. He also
helped us. Once, I remember, a funny thing happened to him. One day I went to see
him for some business, but he was not home. When I asked where he was, I was told
that he was at a meeting of the Russian monarchic society. Then, when I saw him, I
was surprised. Later, when I saw him and asked about it, he winced and said, ‘Well,
I am coming to them no more’. When I asked him what happened, he told me the
following story. He came to the meeting, listened to their arguments, and suddenly
he wanted to say something. He raised his hand, asking to be given a word, but
without any success. Then he tried another time, then a third time. And when he
finally, angry, raised his voice, someone said : ‘Well, youth can wait’. ‘Am I
youth’, - he told me with bitterness in his voice - ‘when I am already 75 years
old ? It’s a different story of course, but all of them are already at least 95’.

I also knew Prince Obolensky. He had a very tragic fate. He and his wife during
the Second World War took part in the French resistance. Then, when his wife was
helping someone, she was captured and shot by the Nazis. When he learned about
this, he cried, and could not believe it. And then he jumped out of a window on a
very high floor. He survived, only hurt his leg really bad, and then the rest of
his life he limped heavily. After the war, he was ordained to the priesthood. He
had a military bearing, strong stentorian voice, but had no audition. And once when
I was coming out of Saint Sergius I suddenly heard ‘Oleg ! Oleg !’ I turned around
– and saw Prince Obolensky in the distance, limping towards me. He was showing me
three fingers and shouting : ‘Three ! Three !’ I did not understand, what ‘three’
meant. ‘I buried three today’, shouted Prince Obolensky, already a priest. And I
must say that our institute was located on the street where a lot of old Russian
immigrants lived [...].

How I read [as a Psaltist] in the Church

We, as students lived very poorly. And we always were looking somewhere to earn
extra money. Often when old Russian immigrants died, we were called to read the
Psalter at their body in the church at night. I had a friend who was very much
afraid to read alone at night. But I was not afraid. So he would invite me to come
with him, since he was afraid. I would tell him : ‘What are you afraid of ? You get
200 francs, all for yourself’. And he would say. ‘No, please, let’s go together,
I'm afraid to go alone’. And I said, ‘Sure, let's go’. And usually it would turn
out that I would be reading all night alone, because he would sleep the whole night
next to me in the chair. And then, when I would try to take 200 francs all to
myself, he would protest : ‘Come on, give me my 100 francs’. I would reply :
‘What ? You slept all night !’ ‘So what ?’- he objected - ‘I still was in the
church’. Of course, I gave him his money.

Memories of the Russian Student Christian Movement

I was a member of the Russian Student Christian Movement (RSCM). I remember one
summer : I was already a student at Saint Sergius Orthodox Institute, and we arranged
the student camps. I was the captain of the group. But our leader, who travelled
with us, was our rector at the time – Father Alexey Knyazev. He had a high voice,
and, unwittingly, he spoke very loudly.

In the evenings we [usually] would assemble in someone’s tent or outside, and we
were sitting and talking, sometimes singing songs. These songs were rather comic,
and would make a parody of some of the situations, for example, a dialogue between
the deacon and the choir : one would sing in a low voice, ‘We do not want white
wine’. Others would join with high-pitched voices : ‘We do not want white wine’.
Then in a deep voice again : ‘But we want red wine’. And the ‘choir’ : ‘But we want
red wine’. The bass would add : ‘We won’t go to matins’. The ‘choir’ continuing :
‘No, we won’t...’. And the bass : ‘But we'll sing the Orthodox song...’. Father
Alexey was very angry at us for this, specially if he would wake up because of us.

On Sundays and holidays, we had the Divine Liturgy service, and the students had
confession, took communion, and participated in religious services. Father Alexey
was the confessor, of course. We would stay some distance away and listen to his
remarks. We would not hear what the confessing student was saying, but could hear
Father Alexey’s words very well. I remember that we had a fat guy, named Vasya.
Once he went to confession to Father Alexey. Father Alexey bent towards him and
Vasya was softly whispering in his ear. Father Alexey listened for a while, and
suddenly he said loudly, ‘What ! Did you [...] ?’ - and he named the sin. Vasya begged :
‘Quietly, please !’ This happened several times during that confession. When he was
finished, poor Vasya was as red as a lobster.

Many students had girlfriends who came to visit them in the camp. Naturally, there
were kisses and hugs [...].

Father Alexey demanded that we speak only in Russian. But most of the students were
talking to each other in French. Father Alexey, of course, was very angry at us for
this. And then once, close to the RSCM camp, young participants of some Russian-
Jewish society organised a camp as well [...]. Basically, it was Russian-speaking
Jewish youth. We made friends with them and it was fun. So it was they who taught
us Russian, or more specifically, Russian slang. From them, most of us learned the
majority of Russian expletives and learned to swear in Russian very well. Our
students enjoyed swearing in Russian so much, speaking foul language, that they did
it with great pleasure, when communicating with each other. Father Alexey, of
course, heard all that perfectly well, and he protested against foul language, but
not as actively as against the French. When someone remarked to him that the
students behave inappropriately and swear, he wrinkled his face and replied : ‘Let
them better speak in Russian, even in such a form’.

Father Alexey Knyazev disliked Archbishop George (Tarasov) (successor to
Metropolitan Evlogy (Georgievsky) - Head of the Western European Exarchate ; and, in
general, he would not lose a moment to talk about it. Once, Archbishop George
wanted to serve in the Temple of the Saint Sergius Institute. The evening before,
Father Alexey once again loudly talked indignantly [about the archbishop]. In the
morning, when greeting the Hierarch George, he would tell him how loved he was. At
that moment, the old man at the candle-kiosk loudly said : ‘All he says is a lie’.
Everyone who was present, including Bishop George and Father Alexey, heard that
remark.

Diaconal ordination ; transfer to Canada, 1978

In 1978, Oleg Kirilov was ordained in Paris to the Holy Diaconate as a celibate cleric.

Very soon afterwards, Deacon Oleg Kirilov was summoned by Archbishop Sylvester (Haruns) to move to Canada.

He obeyed.

Archbishop Sylvester had previously served as a bishop in France, and he had maintained active connections with both the diocese and the theological institute in Paris. Moreover, at that time, Archbishop Sylvester regularly visited France for various reasons. His summons would have been made with the knowledge and consent of Archbishop George (Tarassov), the ruling bishop of the Russian Orthodox Exarchate of Western Europe at the time.

Presbyteral ordination, 1979

In January, 1979, Deacon Oleg Kirilov was ordained to the Holy Priesthood by Archbishop Sylvester (Haruns) in Montréal, Québec.

Pastoral service

Priest Oleg Kirilov was then assigned to serve as second priest at the Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul in Montréal, Québec. By this time, he was truly already a polyglot, since he could speak Russian, German, French and English. One woman who met him in these early days in Montréal at Saints Peter and Paul Cathedral there, recalls how, when she went to confession, she was touched by his words to her. She also commented that when she met him again at the parish of the Sign of the Theotokos, she was “impressed by his hair”. This was one of his personal weaknesses, but he was nevertheless well aware that people would from time to time comment and tease.

Later, Father Oleg recollected in his memoir :

 When I was ordained as a priest, Archbishop Sylvester gave me a 
 ‘nabedrennik’ [‘That which is upon the thigh’, a thigh-shield] because, as 
 he said, ‘you graduated from the theological institute’, so you're an 
 academician’. I never got a purple ‘skoufia’, though. And when I became 
 rector of Holy Trinity Bukovynian Cathedral in Ottawa, he gave me a 
 kamilavka.  When Archbishop Sylvester retired, Metropolitan Theodosius (Lazor) gave 
 me a kamilavka again. Then I called Father Rodion Kondratick [the chancellor], 
 and told him that I have only one head, not two, and also, that Archbishop 
 Sylvester gave me kamilavka already so I cannot accept a kamilavka from 
 His Beatitude Theodosius.  Father Kondratick passed my answer to 
 His Beatitude Theodosius and they liked my answer so much that they 
 arranged with Synod to award me with the Golden Cross. Then I became 
 archpriest.  When I was serving in Russia, our Synod gave me a 
 Cross with ornaments, and then gave me a palitza [epigonation], 
 so I became a ‘palitza’-wearing archpriest [palitza means ‘upon the knee’].

Father Oleg further recalled from these early days :

 His Beatitude Ireney, the Metropolitan of New York, had a personal 
 secretary,  Alexander Bezsmertny [whose last name literally translates as 
 ‘immortal’], and who is dead already.  When the ‘Metropolia’ ran a budget 
 deficit of $10,000.00, he proposed to His Beatitude to award twenty mitres and 
 thus eliminate the deficit [those who received them made contributions]. 
 Thus, very many mitred archpriests had appeared in the American Metropolia.
 
 Archbishop Sylvester, when he served together with a large number of mitred 
 archpriests, used to joke : ‘Today, I served together with twenty 
 fire-fighters’.  Therefore, later, the OCA abolished mitres for the archpriests.

Metropolitan Theodosius : Archdiocese of Canada Assembly, 1980, with Fathers J Tkachuk, N Boldireff, E Lowig, S Balevich, J Matusiak, O Kriilov

Ottawa, 1983

At the retirement of the Archpriest George Pokrowsky in 1983, the Priest Oleg Kirilov was assigned to serve as the rector of the Holy Trinity Bukowinian Sobor in Ottawa, Ontario (the capital of Canada). While serving this parish, he gave respectful pastoral care to Father George and his Matushka Natalia during their illnesses.

Father Oleg had an interest in politics and diplomacy. Therefore, he established many friendships amongst the diplomats in Ottawa, including the Papal Nuncio of the time (Archbishop Angelo Palmas). He attended many formal functions. He was also very helpful to Metropolitan Theodosius (Lazor) in 1990, when the new bishop was to be enthroned. The Annunciation Cathedral building at that time was by far too small for this occasion, and the official enthronement therefore took place at the Holy Trinity Bukowinian Sobor in Ottawa. Father Oleg was active in the organisation of the associated events.

It was later during his pastorate in Ottawa that Father Oleg suffered from a sudden and debilitating attack which put him in the hospital for several weeks. He was temporarily unable to walk, and he was eventually diagnosed as having suffered a severe attack of multiple sclerosis. He received some treatment, and he returned back to active service quite rapidly, and even unexpectedly. However, this illness remained an undercurrent in his self-awareness, and he occasionally had moments of weakness associated with it. Some years later, he was diagnosed as suffering from diabetes as well.

Father Oleg was well-known as being a rather strict observer of the canons and the orders of services. He could sometimes be blunt, gruff or abrupt. Nevertheless, he was quick to ask forgiveness if he knew that someone had taken offence. At the same time, he was very personable, and he was pastorally compassionate. When one family had “fallen out of favour” for a time, Father Oleg nevertheless made a point of visiting that family for a house-blessing and he made a point of supporting them and encouraging them as they found their way “back to favour”. He is reputed to have done this with a substantial amount of humour. This was always an endearing quality. One other person who knew him very well described him as being rather like a hedge-hog — having sharp spines on the top, but with a very soft underside.

However, at this time, “perestroika” was beginning, and the fall of the “iron curtain” followed. Even before this, there had begun the renewal of the Orthodox Church in Russia. Father Oleg felt that he was needed for a time in Russia. He had a long-time friend in Moscow, Father Mark, who was the rector of the Church of Saint Philip, Metropolitan of Moscow, a newly-reopened Temple. Father Mark was asking him go to Moscow in order to help in the reconstruction and redevelopment. Therefore, Father Oleg requested, and received the blessing from Metropolitan Theodosius (Lazor) to take a leave of absence in order to go to help.

First service in Moscow, Russia, 1993

In 1993, Father Oleg travelled to Moscow, and he served on an “on loan” basis under Patriarch Alexei II (Ridiger), who assigned him to serve in the Temple of Saint Philip as the second priest. This Temple is located near the “Prospekt Mira” (Peace Prospect/Avenue) subway station and street in uptown Moscow. It is also situated very near to the Olympiyskiy Sports Complex.

As with many other church buildings and monasteries during the Soviet period, this Temple had been neglected, and then converted into a warehouse. Therefore, the building and everything inside it needed major restoration efforts. From the very beginning, Father Oleg was actively participating in the restoration of the Temple and the parish, as well as in the construction of the “Siberian guest-house”. This parish had long ago been the Representation Church for Siberia (hence the guest-house), and it was becoming so again. The development of this guest-house has been particularly important because the cost of any accommodation in Moscow is very high, and Siberians characteristically do not have much money. There are many reasons for Siberians to need affordable short-term accommodations in Moscow, since there are both ecclesiastical and civil meetings to attend and certain business affairs to be taken care of. As he is known to have done in other situations, Father Oleg contributed his personal funds to help with the restoration of the beautiful old Temple. It is important to understand that during this period, he catechised and baptised many people, young and old, and he prepared many couples for marriage. One such couple would meet him again in later years in Toronto. Yuri Sokolovski wrote about the event and what followed :

 I met Fr Oleg by a sheer accident.  On that day, I dropped by the church 
 after work to make arrangements for our marriage, and there among the
 construction scaffoldings Father Oleg offered me to sit down so that he
 could record my particulars in his notebook.  He patiently explained to me 
 the sanctity of marriage, the necessity of repentance and Holy Communion.  
 Thus began our journey together, which was destined to be interrupted, but 
 then miraculously restarted again in just a few years.
 
 Until our departure to Canada in 1998, we were parishioners of Saint 
 Philip’s.  There, Father Oleg served at the funeral of my father-in-law and 
 there also he baptized our first son, Roman.
 
 Our communication was interrupted for several years because of our move to
 Toronto, where we became parishioners of the Russian Orthodox Christ the
 Saviour Cathedral.  In 2001, we suddenly learned that a new priest from
 Moscow was coming to serve as a rector at the cathedral.  To our surprise, 
 the new rector was none other than Father Oleg Kirilov ! Of course, it was 
 God’s Providence that we were once again under the roof of the same Temple.
 
 We helped him to rent an apartment in the Davisville area (the apartment
 buildings in Davisville reminded him of Medvedkovo, an area in the northern
 part of Moscow), in which he lived all the years while serving in Toronto.

Father Oleg continued to live and serve at Saint Philip’s Church in Moscow, including 2 years when he served as the Acting Rector. In his memoir, Father Oleg wrote :

 It was without any doubt the most absolutely happy years of my life. I 
 could die right now, and I would not lose anything, because I had already 
 seen everything.  Believe me.

He wrote further after his return to Canada for a time :

 Now, in Toronto, to this day I miss that time I spent in Moscow. I miss 
 Moscow and I miss all those years.  Life then was difficult – 'perestroika', 
 'glasnost'.  Although I came to the Soviet Union, it collapsed when I was 
 there.  Food was scarce, we had shortages, people were not confident about 
 their future.  But the churches were being restored.  Over all these years, 
 for more than 11 years of service in Russia, I baptised 15,000 people. For 
 me, of course, this was a great spiritual pleasure.  If I had stayed [and 
 continued to serve] in Canada instead of coming to Russia, I would probably 
 not have as many people baptized until my death, as I did while in Moscow 
 for 11 years.  It was like a continuous stream, like a second baptism of 
 Russia, and in all the churches every day we baptized 50, 100, 150 
 people [...].  Then my friend, the church rector Father Mark, unfortunately 
 died.  As an acting rector, I served for a year and a half.  Afterwards I 
 was transferred to the Temple of the Great Martyr Catherine, the 
 Representation Church of The Orthodox Church in America to the Moscow 
 Patriarchate.  There I served for a year.

It is useful to understand that in Russia and Ukraine in particular, it is not unusual that a priest (usually one of several priests on staff) be found active in the Temple for 12 or more hours every day.

Return to Canada, 2001 : Toronto

In 2001, when the need arose, Father Oleg was recalled from Moscow to Canada in order to serve as the rector of Christ the Saviour Russian Orthodox Sobor in Toronto, Ontario. His attitude was that a priest is as a soldier, and that a priest must be obedient.

Once he had arrived, he set about nurturing the life of the parish. He began to try to put the parish administration into better order, and he worked hard to beautify the interior of the Temple itself. A great deal of cleaning and painting was undertaken. New flooring was installed. Air conditioning was installed. New vestments and new candle-stands were obtained. A new carpet runner from the entrance to the "iconostas" was purchased and installed. New chandeliers were purchased and installed. All these details, and also the renovation of the dining-hall, and many other features bear the imprint of Father Oleg’s loving care of God’s Temple, and the manner in which he worked together with the parish council.

Father Oleg and Altar-servers in Toronto

A significant detail to be remembered is the improvement in the sound-system in the Temple, and as well a closed-circuit television network for the Temple. A camera was installed in a chandelier, and as a result the women who would often be working in the kitchen during services would be able both to see and to hear the services while they worked.

Father Oleg contributed substantially from his own resources towards these projects, and he successfully sought out donors who could and would contribute towards the cost of these renovations.

Father Oleg serving in the Altar, Christ the Saviour Sobor, Toronto

Father Oleg organised the printing and distributing of the newspaper “Orthodox Faith”. He also organised the advertising of the parish on Russian-language TV channels and in Toronto Russian-language newspapers. He constantly visited the elderly parishioners, and he actively met with the immigrants who had arrived in Canada from all ends of the former Soviet Union. Thanks to all these efforts, the parish started quickly growing, and the number of students of the Russian school multiplied.

Father Oleg gave considerable personal and technical help to many newly-immigrating families, some of whom were refugees.

During the last years of his service in Toronto, he was very keen on the idea of installing gilded domes on the Temple, and in anticipation of this, they had been ordered and delivered from Russia. However, for various reasons (one being civil regulations), that hope did not materialise. The domes had to be dealt with in another manner.

Father Oleg was actively involved in the organisation of pilgrimages of the parish school to Ottawa ; to visit Archbishop Seraphim at the diocesan centre at Johnstown (south of Ottawa) ; and also to the Serbian Orthodox Transfiguration Monastery near Toronto.

Father Oleg and Toronto parishioners at the "eternal flame" on Parliament Hill, Ottawa

In 2008, there was briefly a war between Russia and Georgia in the Caucasus Mountains, with regard to South Ossetia. This affected life in the parish to some extent. The following article reflects Father Oleg’s pastoral gifts :

 Heaven in a Choir Loft : Reflections of Georgian-Russian Orthodox
 brotherhood one year after the South Ossetian war.
 
 In the ongoing saga of foreign affairs involving the Republic of Georgia 
 and the Russian Federation, one story has escaped the attention of the news 
 media. It is the story of an Orthodox Christian parish in Toronto, Canada, 
 where Orthodox of all ethnicities, but especially Russian and Georgian, 
 have come together as brothers, as children in the Kingdom of God. It is a 
 joyful unity unnoticed by the outside world, but for those with eyes to see 
 and ears to hear, it is a foretaste of the age to come, made possible only 
 in Christ.
 
 For many years, Christ the Saviour Cathedral in Toronto has been known
 among Canadian Orthodox as a staunch defender of the Russian language and
 traditions. The parish itself has been very welcoming to regular 
 worshippers of Korean, Chinese, Romanian, and Mediterranean backgrounds, 
 yet the prevailing spirit and ethos of the parish have remained firmly 
 Russian.  However, early in 2008, a number of choir members asked to expand 
 the choir's repertoire to include Georgian Orthodox hymns. Within weeks, the
 choir tentatively grasped the rudiments of Georgian chant, an ancient
 tradition of polyphony from the Caucasus mountains believed to be the
 earliest form of polyphony in the world.
 
 In the world at large, in August 2008, armed hostilities between Georgia and
 Russia broke out over the territories of South Ossetia (Samachablo) and
 Abkhazia (Abkhazeti).  Media 'experts' offered the same tired, tendentious
 opinions on the complex history of Georgian and Russian relations. In North
 America, Europe and Russia, variously polarized versions of the crisis were
 promoted to stoke the passions of their target audiences. Among the
 heightened rhetoric on both sides of the political fence, Archpriest Oleg 
 Kirilov (rector of Christ the Saviour Cathedral) courageously stood up and 
 preached about the spiritual brotherhood that transcended the Orthodox 
 Georgian and Russian peoples, and of all peoples who share the Orthodox 
 Christian Faith.  On local Russian television and in newspapers, Fr. Oleg 
 spoke of the necessity to oppose the devilish tactics of nationalistic 
 division, and to embrace the true unity that exists among believers of the 
 one Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church - the Orthodox Church. In the 
 meantime, the choir continued to improve its repertoire of Georgian hymns 
 as a sign of this Christian brotherhood, despite the apparent tension of 
 Georgian-Russian relations after the South Ossetian war.
 
 Fr. Oleg's truly Christian message of Orthodox brotherhood subsequently
 bore fruit in September 2008, one month after the South Ossetian war. One
 Sunday towards the end of the Divine Liturgy, a group of newly-arrived
 Georgians approached the parish's choir mistress. Having witnessed the
 choir's goodwill in singing ancient Georgian chant, they offered to sing a 
 few hymns in order to show 'how it is done back home'. The parishioners were
 riveted to the floor during the performance of the haunting, other-worldly
 psalmody which, when concluded, left them momentarily stunned, then
 quickly erupting in a thunder of applause (thus eliciting a stern 
 reprimand to the congregation from Fr. Oleg : 'Clapping hands is not 
 appropriate behaviour in the House of God !').
 
 Since that day, the stream of faithful Georgian Orthodox flowing to Christ 
 the Saviour Cathedral has grown, and the choir has been a focal point of
 brotherhood among the newly-arrived Georgians and the established
 Russians. The piety of the Georgians has elevated the spirit of the parish 
 and has caused many to re-focus on the essential bond of love for which true
 Christians, ancient and modern, have always been known. Fr. Oleg continues
 to commemorate the Patriarchs of Georgia and Russia (in the Georgian and
 Slavonic languages, respectively), as well as praying specifically for the 
 armed forces of Canada and Russia, at which all parishioners fervently cross
 themselves - the Georgians most of all ! Whether the Georgians are praying 
 for the success of the Russian armed forces (not likely) or that God may 
 enlighten and have mercy on their 'adversaries', this act of praying for 
 one's 'enemies' - and to do so with the love and fervency shown every week 
 at the Divine Liturgy - this is the Orthodox Christian way. There is no 
 greater catechism than seeing the entire parish praying with one mind and 
 one heart for God's mercy - by all and for all.
 
 Not everything has gone smoothly, however, and in the beginning there were a
 few bumps along the way. One Sunday, the Georgians in the choir loft
 unexpectedly started stumbling around in a panic, chaos quickly spreading
 among the ranks. One Georgian member began to pull out his hair in
 anguish. In this atmosphere of sudden turmoil, one of the older Georgians
 grabbed one of the Russians and pleaded in desperation to know why the
 parishioners were kneeling on a Sunday, at the consecration of the Holy 
 Gifts ! As penitential kneeling on Sundays is prohibited by the Canons, but 
 is a local practice of reverential piety, the Georgians were up in arms. 
 Praying for God's mercy to be upon the Russian armed forces during the 
 Commemorations at Liturgy is perfectly fine, but woe if you dare kneel on 
 a Sunday !
 
 At the Feast of Pascha just past (2009), Fr. Oleg made it a point to read 
 the Holy Gospel in as many languages as possible, including Georgian. Based 
 on the evident joy and smiles by all Orthodox Georgians in attendance, while
 simultaneously shaking and holding their heads in their hands, two things
 were evident : 1) Fr. Oleg's pronunciation in Georgian could use a little 
 more practice, and 2) they knew that they are loved and appreciated by their
 Russian brethren in the Faith, as they have loved and appreciated their new
 parish home in Toronto.
 
 As the celebrations after the Paschal Celebration continued long into the 
 night - the sounds of Georgian and Russian festal hymns mingling with the 
 joy of the communal Paschal breakfast - it was a taste of Paradise. It was 
 the Prophet Isaiah's vision of the age to come, where 'the wolf will 
 recline with the lamb, and they will do no hurt in all of God's Holy 
 Mountain, and both will feast together in the Kingdom of Heaven'.
 – Mikheil Ivanidze, (Feast of the Dormition of the Mother of God, 2009).

Father Oleg and Servers : Entry to Jerusalem (Palm Sunday)

Father Oleg organised a visit to Toronto (during the course of visits across Canada) of the Pochaev miracle-working icon of Mother of God, as well as the visit of the relic of the Saint-Prince Vladimir of Kyiv. Later, he ordered for Toronto, and arranged for the acquisition of a blessed copy (“spisok”) of the miraculous icon of the Pochaev Mother of God. He was a part of the delegation of clergy that travelled from Canada to the Dormition Pochaev Monastery for this purpose. That copy of the Pochaev icon of the Mother of God is now permanently in a prominent place in the Temple in Toronto. Other members of the delegation, who had likewise made their requests, placed copies of the icon in various central parishes across the country.

In addition to his other responsibilities, Father Oleg served as Dean of the Ontario Deanery of the Archdiocese of Canada (The Orthodox Church in America) from 2007 until his retirement in 2011.

2007 Archdiocesan Council

In 2008, at the Fifteenth All-American Council, the Archpriest Oleg Kirilov was, at one stage of the nominations, amongst the nominees to become the next metropolitan (the chief bishop) of The Orthodox Church in America.

Father Oleg was always teaching the parishioners that the Church should be the centre of their lives, and that they ought to plan their life around the services of worship in the Temple, rather than adjusting the church life to their own perceived needs. They themselves report that he taught them to go to the Temple of the Lord every Sunday. In so doing, they understand that he had developed in them a serious attitude to the Church’s sacraments.

In his memoir, Father Oleg wrote about his experience, both in Toronto and in Moscow, as follows :

 In Toronto, we have to put more effort, more work, when working with 
 parishioners, than in Moscow. Of course, there is a difference in the 
 position of priest in Russia and here in Canada.  A priest in Russia has 
 more authority as a person.  He is listened to and is treated with respect. 
 Here, too, the priest is respected, but in a different way. [Also,] there 
 is a difference between the new immigrants from Russia in our Parish and 
 the old immigrants.  And psychologically, say, the pastoral approach here 
 is also different than in Russia, because it's a different world.  There is 
 a lot of frustration among our flock, people are busy with their lives, 
 many are working at 2 or 3 jobs and cannot attend the church as often as in 
 Russia.  The piety is also not the same as in Russia, since the environment 
 is different ; and, of course, to those parishioners we need a special 
 pastoral approach.
 
 There were priests in Russia who confessed to me and described how they 
 cooperated with authorities.  However, I want to say that I am deeply 
 convinced that the vast majority of Russian Orthodox clergy - bishops, and 
 priests - sincerely and faithfully served the Lord God, the Russian 
 Orthodox Church and the homeland during the Soviet regime, during the 
 persecution of the Church.  There have always been voluntary and 
 not-so-voluntary traitors, and there will always be, not only in Russia, 
 but all over the world.  Even those priests who did collaborate, who were 
 forced to work [with authorities], did it all for the benefit of the 
 Church.  I cannot name those bishops and priests, they are still alive. 
 However, I can speak about a man whom I met as a young student in 
 Leningrad.  It was Metropolitan Nicodim (Rotov) of Leningrad and Novgorod. 
 Oh my God !  What they were saying about him in the West !  That he was a KGB 
 general and a traitor [...].  No, [I saw] nothing like that ! He was a man 
 devoted to his Russian Orthodox Church.  And very much so - under the 
 circumstances - he had done a lot for the Church.  I can testify to this. 
 So I am convinced that the vast majority of the clergy in Russia, even if  
 they cooperated with the authorities, did it for the benefit of the Church, 
 as strange as it may sound.  [It was] easy for us, immigrants, my parents, 
 and me, living in the West, to blame, to discuss and to argue. We would have 
 to live there [in Russia], to understand.  I personally do not know what 
 I would do if I were a bishop or a priest during the Soviet era.  So none 
 of us has any moral right to judge these people.  Who really was a traitor, 
 of that God is the judge ; the only judge is our Lord God, and not us.

He added the following comment as well :

 The priests who had permission from the KGB to communicate with foreigners
 paid their taxes under paragraph 19 [of the tax code], and it was relatively 
 small.  The rest of the priests paid their taxes under paragraph 5, and it 
 was a very large percentage of their salary.

Father Oleg had a well-developed sense of humour ; he always appreciated a good joke, but not at the expense of another person. He remained a remarkably tactful and caring companion. Father Oleg was always able to find a common ground with a very varied group of people : from the Patriarch of Moscow to an elderly parishioner, from a nouveau-riche tycoon to a car mechanic.

Father Oleg plays football at the parish picnic

Father Oleg published a parting Paschal message to his parishioners just before it was time for him to leave Toronto :

 Dear brothers and sisters !
 Let us congratulate you with the greatest feast of our Holy Orthodox Church -
 THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST !
 My dear beloved brothers and sisters in Christ, this Easter will be my last 
 in Christ the Saviour Cathedral, because I am retiring, having reached the
 retirement age.  I kindly ask you to always mention me in your holy prayers
 and I repent before you and ask for your forgiveness, if I have ever hurt 
 your feelings during my 10-year service here in Toronto.  I kindly ask 
 everyone to come visit our Orthodox church on Easter Sunday, so that I 
 could exchange a triple kiss with you. Always with love in Christ, 
 Your archpriest Oleg Kirilov. 
 Pascha 2011

Retirement, return to Russia, 2011

Later that year (2011), the Archpriest Oleg Kirilov officially retired. For a time, he was attached to the Chapel of Saint Silouan the Athonite, until his future situation would be clarified. Following is his farewell letter to the parishioners :

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ. This year this is my last message to you,
because I have reached my retirement age, and after Easter I will resign from my
position as rector and retire. Therefore I would like you all to come on Palm
Sunday and Easter to our temple, so that I can personally say goodbye to all of
you. I want all of you, and not only our parishioners but also our occasional
visitors, and in general, our whole Russian-speaking community - I want to thank you
all for your kindness to me. I have known many of you. I want to thank you for
your patience, because it was not easy with me, with my sometimes obnoxious
character. I apologize to all those whom I have offended with my unjust behaviour,
and I am sorry for it. Please, as they say in Russian, do not remember me badly
[не поминайте лихом] and pray for me. I was very happy to spend these 10 years as
rector of the Russian Orthodox parish of Christ the Savior in Toronto. For 35 years
I have served the church, 10 years of which here in Toronto. Although I must say
that the service in Toronto was not always easy, not always. But, thank you for
everything ; may the Lord save you for everything. So, my dears, thank you. Thank
you that you exist. Please do not forget to come to the temple and after me, after
my departure, please continue to come and support our church. And thank you for
everything, forgive me, pray for me, and come this Easter so that I can greet all of
you for the last time. May the Lord save you. Happy coming Easter.
Your father Oleg. 16.04.2011.

After his retirement, Father Oleg returned to his beloved Moscow. He stayed in his Moscow apartment near Alekseevskaya subway, not far from the Church of Saint Philip. He had previously inherited this apartment from his late sister.

Father Oleg wrote about Mount Athos in his memoir, about events which had occurred earlier in his life :

 About Mount Athos
 
 May the soul of the late Metropolitan Nikodim (Rotov) rest in the Kingdom of 
 Heaven ! Thanks only to him did Russia manage to preserve the Russian 
 monastery (Saint Panteleimon’s) on Mount Athos. At some point, the monastery 
 almost closed, as new monks were not coming, and the old ones slowly died.
 When Metropolitan Nikodim had learned how acute the problem with the 
 new inhabitants of the Russian monastery on Mount Athos was, he did 
 everything in his power to rectify the situation. He used every 
 possibility and all his connections. He knocked on every door, and he 
 explained to the Soviet officials how important it was to maintain the 
 Russian presence on Mount Athos. In the end, the Soviet government gave 
 permission for twenty Russian monks to go there.  
 
 Later, I went there, too.  They gave me the cell where 
 Patriarch Pimen (Izvekov) had previously stayed.  At first, I was offered 
 to stay at the hotel for visiting pilgrims. [But after] I went and saw it, 
 I asked them if they could let me stay at the monastery with the monks. We 
 talked and they gave me that cell and said, ‘Here is a cell, it is very 
 good, Patriarch Pimen stayed there when he came to visit us’. It was not 
 that different from other cells (only the parquet floors maybe, but the 
 rest was the same) - the bed, the table, the icons [...] and a shared 
 washroom on the same floor. It didn’t matter whether you were a patriarch 
 or not, all had to use the shared washroom.  
 
 But the monks that the Soviet government had sent to the monastery were
 something special. Half the monks were crazy. Once in the morning we 
 were sitting with the igumen [abbot] and having tea. Suddenly the 
 archdeacon came in, dressed in a night shirt and underpants. The igumen 
 called him up and asked : ‘Why are you dressed up like that ?’ And he 
 responded, ‘It's hot, is it not ?!’ On another occasion, at the Lesser 
 Entrance with the Gospel, that deacon stopped at the Royal Doors, and 
 suddenly barked, ‘Beast, Beast !’ Thank goodness, the monks were 
 understanding. One of the older hieromonks who was serving, walked up to 
 him and said, ‘Calm down, everything is fine. Just say, "Wisdom ! Stand 
 aright !"’ He paused for a moment, and then said, ‘Stand aright !’ and 
 he continued into the altar. Where is that archdeacon now ? He lives on 
 Mount Athos, if he’s not dead already. 
 
 Another time, one of the newcomers, on the second day upon arrival [from 
 Russia], climbed up to the bell tower and began ringing the bell. The monks 
 gathered around and asked why he was doing that. And he answered, ‘Look, 
 there is a ship coming in the sea and I am greeting it !’ 
 
 Another Russian monk was stalking me everywhere and kept whispering, ‘Oleg, 
 look ! Spies are everywhere. Be careful. Everything is recorded ! And bugs 
 are everywhere too, be careful, don’t talk too much ! Spies are everywhere !’ 
 Yes [...].  Such was the contingent [...].  
 
 I remember how once, in the morning, during the service, a group of 
 tourists came to the temple, stopped at the entrance, and didn't enter. 
 Just silently stood there, just whispering sometimes. I heard they spoke 
 German. Then the igumen called me up and asked who were they and why 
 they were standing and not entering the church. I answered that I didn’t 
 know, but perhaps they were German, as I heard they spoke German. He said, 
 ‘Then go and invite them to come in’. So I went and talked to the tourists. 
 It turned out they were from the Catholic university (or seminary) in 
 Switzerland. They came for a week as pilgrims to Mount Athos. They were not 
 entering the temple because they were not allowed in the Greek monasteries 
 they had visited previously, since as they were told, they were heretics. So 
 they would stay at the entrance and would not be allowed to enter the 
 church. I went and told the igumen about them. Then he waved to them, 
 inviting them to come in, please, and so they did. After the service, the igumen 
 invited them to lunch. They were surprised and said that in the Greek 
 monasteries they were not allowed to eat with the brethren, and were given 
 food separately, in a different room. After lunch, Father Igumen had a 
 conversation with them, and I was translating. He asked them why the Greeks 
 did not let them in the temple. They answered that the Greeks had told them 
 that they were heretics, and they should not be allowed in the temple. Then 
 Father Igumen said, ‘OK, so you are heretics, but you are also humans !’ 
 
 In general, that visit to the Russian monastery touched those Swiss 
 Catholics a lot. When they were leaving, Father Igumen escorted them off on 
 their way. They said, ‘We have one more day, we’d like to visit the Serbian 
 monastery’. On that, Father Igumen replied, ‘I wouldn’t recommend it as the Serbs 
 are even stricter than the Greeks ! You guys had better visit the Romanian 
 monastery. The Romanians will give you a good welcome’.

Father Oleg also wrote about a controversial cleric, the Archpriest Georgiy Kotchetkov. He was a priest who went ahead without a blessing to institute many liturgical and linguistic changes in his community. Because of his impatience and his independent ideas, he eventually separated himself and his followers from communion with the Orthodox Church.

About Georgiy Kochetkov and his community

I know G Kochetkov personally. Once I went to their temple, and they were serving
all-night vigil. Well, they did not serve in Church Slavonic, but in Russian. If
that had been the whole change, that would be alright. But in fact, Kochetkov had
altered the whole all-night vigil. How is this possible ? He did not follow the
Russian tradition at all. So many things were all mixed together. And the temple
was full of people, packed. But all of them, poor people, were like a sect. I just
went in and was immediately noticed. Someone came up to me and asked : ‘who are
you ?’ I answered. Then that man went to the altar and back, and said, ‘Father
Oleg, Father Georgiy asks you to come into the Altar and to serve with him’. I
said, ‘no, thank you, I’d rather stay here’. Then later, when Father Georgiy
Kochetkov was incensing the temple, he stopped in front of me and again asked,
‘Father Oleg, would you like to serve ?’ I said, ‘no thank you, I’d better stand
here’.

Kochetkov and his community liked to come to the Representation Church of the OCA,
the Church of Saint Catherine. They believed that the OCA supported Kochetkov’s church
reforms, and that it was pursuing the same renovationist policies. Why they thought
so was a mystery. So, one day, Father Vladimir Tischuk (one of the priests of the
Representation Church) came to me and told me that Kochetkov had come to the temple
and asked for permission to serve and give communion to 30 of his parishioners.
The Rector of the Church was absent, so I went out and saw 30 adult people in some
white robes or night-shirts, which was not very clear. Kochetkov was there as their
leader. When he saw me, he said : ‘These people were just baptized. We would like
for them to have their first communion in your temple, so I kindly ask for your
permission to serve, and give them their first communion’. I went to the Altar
again and I asked Father Vladimir : ‘Have you seen the masquerade ?’ He silently
nodded. And Father Igumen Hilarion (Alfeyev) (now he is already a bishop) called
them a sect. Then again I went out and called Father Georgiy and told him : ‘We
would not be able to allow you to serve, of course, but we would give these people
Holy Communion’. Kochetkov was offended. When the time came for Holy Communion, then
both Father Vladimir and Father Hilarion refused to administer them the sacrament.
So I had to. After the communion, they went out to the street, where they had
tables prepared with food, and they had a so-called ‘Agape’. Of course, when all
this was over, I went to Bishop Arseny (Bishop of Istra, Vicar of the Patriarch in
Moscow) and told him everything. He was very angry at Kochetkov and his people. And
he asked the rector of the Representation Church : ‘Why do you allow these people
to come in fancy costumes to the temple of God ? This leads to the situations
similar to the one that took place, and which Father Oleg then had to manage’.

[See the work by Deacon Vladimir Vasilik of Saint Petersburg about the well-known
Priest Georgy Kochetkov, a controversial Orthodox teacher, priest in the Russian Orthodox
Church, the founder of the Saint-Filaret Orthodox Christian Institute. He was
known for his controversial theological views, justifications for church and
service reforms, and for creating a close-knit community of followers (the
‘Kochetkovtsy’), who became, in fact, a sect.]

The Archpriest Oleg Kirilov was released by Archbishop Irénée (Rochon) from his responsibilities and attachment as a priest at the Chapel of Saint Silouan the Athonite, effective 10 September, 2012, and he was given the status of “unassigned cleric”.

From the time of his return to Moscow, Father Oleg continued to serve occasionally in the Church of Saint Philip, and in other Temples in the city. In later years, he spoke to those close to him that “his turn was coming” and they could see that he was getting ready for it.

Repose, 2016

The Archpriest Oleg Kirilov fell asleep in the Lord on Tuesday, 18 October, 2016, in Moscow, where he resided in retirement.

The Funeral services for the Burial of an Archpriest were served for the Archpriest Oleg Kirilov at the Church of Saint Philip in Moscow, on Saturday, 22 October. They were led by the dean of that region of Moscow (the city of Moscow now has more than 1,000 parishes), along with 10 priests and 2 deacons, and a large number of believers.

After the completion of the Order of the Burial of a Priest, his body was interred in the Volkhovsky Cemetery, 19 km (12 mi) northeast of the centre of Moscow, near the city of Mytishchi.