Remembering Bishop Basil (Rodzianko)

by Archpriest Thomas Edwards

On Friday, September 17, 1999, Bishop Basil fell asleep in the Lord and passed all the way into the heavenly kingdom. It is not without irony that Vladyka fell asleep the day before he was to receive his U.S. citizenship. His beloved wife, Matushka Mary, was called by God the day before she was to have received her British citizenship.

In the previous 12 years, this imposing man, with his kind face, gleaming white beard, and captivating British accent, had profoundly touched many people in New York and New Jersey. Though he lived in Washington, D.C., Vladyka often visited our area, giving retreats, talks, and wise counsel to many of his spiritual children.

Vladimir Rodzianko was born May 22, 1915, on a family estate in Ekaterinoslav, in what is now Ukraine. His grandfather, Michael Rodzianko, was president of the Imperial Duma during the reign of Tsar Nicholas II. As an adult, Vladimir remembered being under his grandfather's dining-room table, listening to the grown-ups mulling over what to do after the Royal Family had been murdered. “Surely this will be over shortly,” he heard his grandfather say, “and we can then return to Russia. In the meantime we will go to our Orthodox brothers in Serbia.” He recalled his ordinarily clean-shaven grandfather later disguised behind a long beard, escaping Russia by train.

The young man spent the rest of his childhood in Serbia. After he received his theological degree from the University of Belgrade, he married Mary Kolubayev in 1941 and was ordained to the Priesthood the same year. He served several parishes in northern Serbia during the Nazi occupation. Then, after World War II ended, he later recalled, “the Nazis marched out one door, and the Communists marched in another.” He was arrested by the Communists and charged with the high crime of preaching religious propaganda. He was sentenced to eight years imprisonment and hard labor. By this time, he had two young sons, Vladimir and Michael. Upon entering prison, his beard was shorn and his cassock and cross were ripped off. “Now you're like all the other comrades!” his captors taunted. When asked, nearly half a century later, about his worst memories of imprisonment, Vladyka stated without hesitation, “The fleas!” The fleas were so bad that he felt he was being eaten alive.

Years later, over dinner at our house, he spoke about being deprived of the right to celebrate the divine services. “Well, not quite all,” he added. Every day, the prisoners were taken outside into a quadrangle for an exercise period, which consisted of marching around the four walls in concentric circles. On Theophany each year, Father Vladimir was able to bless water. Even the non-Orthodox and non-believers did their part, taking to the outer circle to give the Orthodox prisoners cover. Since it snowed every day, there was a ready water source. As instructed by Father Vladimir, the inner circle of Orthodox sang the troparion of the feast in muffled tones: “When Thou, O Lord, wast baptized in the Jordan…” Father Vladimir blessed the snowflakes that fell on each and every prisoner, as well as every guard—though the guards were none the wiser.

Through the efforts of the Archbishop of Canterbury and a change in Tito’s policies, Father Vladimir was eventually released from prison and reunited with his family. They first went to France, where they were the guests of Archbishop John Shahovskoy, and later settled in England. In London, Father Vladimir, in addition to serving as a priest, took up a second passion that he’d harbored since childhood, when he was offered a position on BBC Radio. For the next 40 years, he produced religious radio programs that were broadcast into the Soviet Union through the BBC, the Slavic Gospel Association, Radio Vatican, and the Paris-based Voice of Orthodoxy, following in the footsteps of Father Alexander Schmemann.

Then tragedy hit his family. In 1978, his teenage grandson was killed in an assassination attempt intended for Father Vladimir himself. Because of his religious broadcasts into the Soviet Union, he had long been a target of the KGB. Later that same year, his wife reposed.

In 1979, Father Vladimir took monastic vows in England, adopting the name Basil. He was received into the Orthodox Church in America and was consecrated Bishop of Washington, D.C. on January 12, 1980. By then, Archbishop John Shahovskoy, the priest who had given Father Vladimir’s family shelter in France, was overseeing the Diocese of the West—but he was gravely ill. During the Archbishop’s final days, Bishop Basil stayed with him and served as his nurse. Afterward he himself was transferred to the See of San Francisco, a position he held until his retirement in 1984.

Bishop Basil returned to Washington, D.C. and for the rest of his years he continued religious broadcasts to Russia. My family and I visited his apartment in D.C. once, when he invited us over for lunch after Divine Liturgy. The place was akin to a monastic cell. In one corner was his chapel, complete with altar and iconostasis. Here he would serve weekday Liturgies for a small congregation who would easily fill the one room. When not in use, the chapel was closed off by a floor-to-ceiling curtain. In another corner was the Bishop's broadcasting studio, where he recorded tapes for subsequent broadcasts. There were floor-to-ceiling bookcases along the walls, with icons and family portraits interspersed among the books.

One of the most spectacular memories I have of Vladyka occurred in Moscow in May of 1991. Bishop Basil had been asked by Patriarch Aleksi to lead a pilgrimage to the Holy Land and back to Russia. The purpose was to bring back the Holy Fire, which miraculously proceeds from the Tomb of Christ in Jerusalem each year on Holy Saturday. For only the second time since the fall of Communism, the Patriarch would celebrate the Divine Liturgy in the Dormition Cathedral in Moscow's Kremlin. The church was filled to capacity, and the service was televised and seen all over Russia. When the tremendous side doors of the cathedral were swung open, there standing with the sacred Holy Fire from Christ's Tomb raised for all was Bishop Basil. Vladyka entered the ancient church, proceeded through the royal doors with the Patriarch, and placed the Holy Fire on the altar.

At the end of the Liturgy, the Patriarch, led by Bishop Basil, all the clergy, and thousands of worshippers, exited the great doors of the cathedral for a mile-long procession through the streets of Moscow.

Moscow had not seen such a religious procession in 70 years. All the church bells in Moscow were ringing, and above our heads the blue sky was filled with giant hot-air balloons arrayed with huge icons. On the same trip, I was approached after a separate service by one of the young choir singers. Upon learning that I was from America, he asked, “Do you know Vladyka Basil Rodzianko?” To which I replied, “I know him quite well! In fact, he recently stayed at our home for several days.” The young man said, “In Russia we consider him a saint!”

V. Rev. Thomas Edwards was the rector of Holy Apostles Church in Saddle Brook, New Jersey, for 30 years until his retirement in 2001. He now resides in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.