The Diaries of St. Nicholas of Japan, Entry 39
January 23-24, 1880, St. Petersburg
January 23, 1880 – Wednesday, 11 PM
In the morning, a packer sent by Fyodor Nikolayevich arrived to take measurements of the Bishop’s icons for tin and wooden crates. There will be six crates in total, including one for carved icons and books. Fyodor Nikolayevich will handle the pricing himself. The crates are intended for shipment via a Volunteer Fleet vessel* from Odessa to Nagasaki. Konstantin Petrovich Pobedonostsev offered this service free of charge. The crates should be ready in a week, but accounting for all the railway transfers to Odessa, it will likely take a month; the ship departs in early March.
*See notes
I bid farewell to Father Anastasy (Father Vasily Opotsky).** The poor man is reluctant to return as inspector of the Minsk Seminary; it’s his own fault for declining the rectorship of the Perm Seminary. Generally, widowed priests often become broken individuals; such is Father Anastasy, though he doesn’t realize it. He promised to write to me, and I to him. His servant Stepan is taking over from Andrey, who departed today.
In the evening, I visited the Putyatins. Olga Yefimovna is very enthusiastic about Japan; but as long as the Count is alive, she won’t be going there. Spent a pleasant hour, as usual, with Fyodor Nikolayevich. Today's letter from Father Anastasy is as disheartening about the Seminary as previous ones. Father Vladimir appears to be a poor administrator and psychologist. Issues like drunkenness and the scourge of Sawabe*** are serious problems there, and they don’t know how to address them!
At Archpriest Alexander Alekseevich Zhelobovsky’s, of the Cavalry Guards Regiment on Zakharyevskaya Street, I found myself among a mixed company; it became dull, so I asked to review his books to decide whether to include them among the fifty copies, and left around ten o'clock.
He seemed displeased; saying, “I won’t donate church vessels,” but he’s unlikely to do so anyway. His son is already a civil servant; educated at the Commercial School; his wife is away due to her uncle’s death.
He recounted how he had been received by the Bishop—both in the past and in the case he described today: after hearing him out, the Bishop simply gave a silent blessing, which, as he understood it, meant “You may go — your request is in vain.”
Returned home via a terrible road in a droshky. Here and there, lamps were lit to signify joy at the Empress’s return from Cannes today; she arrived safely.
On my way to Zhelobovsky’s (I had promised to visit him last Wednesday at Pavel Parfenovich Zarkevich’s, where he sang a song charmingly), I found him in church, having just concluded a wedding. He went to offer a prayer, and I stayed to examine the church; saw the St. George standards awarded in 1812; the cavalry guard showing me around didn’t know whose uniform was under glass (it was Nicholas Pavlovich’s, but he said Catherine’s)...
Later, Zhelobovsky shared an anecdote about how, during an incident involving the cavalry guards, a shot tore through his blanket—and how their horses often end up injured. He was dressed with his collar undone, and present with him were Alexey Ivanovich Parvov and a few other guests. When I arrived at the church, he greeted me warmly with the words, “I was waiting for you,” and offered recommendations concerning the Altai missionaries. I also met Vasily Ivanovich, the Metropolitan’s secretary, who spoke of a house in Borovichi rented by I. Suzdaltsev for 300 rubles a year.
24 January 1880. Thursday
I remained at home all day. In the morning, I visited Dmitry Dmitrievich; later, Andō**** arrived and stayed until the third hour. He is engaged in serious study, listens to university lectures with great benefit, and seems to understand them well. I read to him a passage from Father Anatoly’s letter about the singers and the so-called “most pious one,” which he found deeply offensive.***** I gave him the brochures Japan and Russia—one for himself and others to pass along to Nishi and Ōma.
At four o’clock, I went to the bathhouse; afterward, it would have been unwise to go out into the city. Besides, I’ve grown weary of so much running about—and what an expense the droshkies have been! At present, they are nearly my only cost while I am here.
Today, while browsing yesterday’s issue of Kyōkai Hōchi, I felt a stirring—a quiet inner chord that called me back to the work.
Reflections:
“Today, while browsing yesterday’s issue of Kyōkai Hōchi, I felt a stirring—a quiet inner chord that called me back to the work.”
I feel that stirring every day. It’s a burning fire. It calls me to Japan, and it gently stirs me in the morning when I just want to catch a little more rest—but I have translation to do.
At four o’clock, I went to the bathhouse; afterward, it would have been unwise to go out into the city. Besides, I’ve grown weary of so much running about—and what an expense the droshkies have been! At present, they are nearly my only cost while I am here.
I feel you, St. Nicholas. Taxis and transportation are still a major expense!
Notes on Text:
*I didn’t know what the Volunteer Fleet was, so I asked ChatGPT, and found the results fascinating:
A Volunteer Fleet vessel refers to a ship operated by the Russian Volunteer Fleet (Добровольный флот) — also known as the Dobroflot — a unique organization in the Russian Empire that blended commercial shipping with military readiness.
What was the Volunteer Fleet?
Founded in 1878, after the Russo-Turkish War, to provide civilian transport that could be converted into warships in times of conflict.
It was funded in part by public donations (hence the name “volunteer”) and supported by the government.
The ships were steamers used primarily for:
Passenger transport
Mail
Cargo shipments
Occasionally, military logistics
Its routes included connections between Odessa, Vladivostok, Nagasaki, and other Pacific ports, playing a key role in Russia’s Far East presence.
Relevance to the Journal Entry:
In the diary entry from 23 January 1880, it mentions that crates (including icons and books) were to be shipped from Odessa to Nagasaki aboard a Volunteer Fleet vessel, free of charge thanks to Konstantin Pobedonostsev. This was a practical and patriotic method of shipping materials to the Japanese Orthodox Mission, and it underscores the empire-wide support for ecclesiastical work abroad.
**Sometimes there are happy endings. St. Nicholas notes this about
I bid farewell to Father Anastasy (Father Vasily Opotsky).** The poor man is reluctant to return as inspector of the Minsk Seminary; it’s his own fault for declining the rectorship of the Perm Seminary. Generally, widowed priests often become broken individuals; such is Father Anastasy, though he doesn’t realize it.
…and this is completely understandable, being widowed is often devastating.
I looked up some historical information on Fr. Vasily, and it appears that his story had a happy ending, and he finished strong; later on, he was made a Bishop:
Father Vasily Opotsky, later known as Bishop Anastasius (Анастасий Опоцкий), was a prominent figure in the Russian Orthodox Church during the 19th century. Born on March 11, 1830, he pursued theological studies at the Saint Petersburg Theological Academy. After completing his education, he took monastic vows and was ordained as a priest. Throughout his ecclesiastical career, he served in various capacities, including as an inspector at the Minsk Seminary. He was known for his dedication to the Church and his contributions to theological education. Bishop Anastasius passed away in 1905.
For a more detailed account of his life and work, you might refer to the book Преосвященный Алексий (Опоцкий): пастырь, педагог, проповедник by A.N. Panin, which provides insights into the lives of the Opotsky brothers and their service to the Russian Orthodox Church.
***It’s interesting how the complete picture of a man changes things. I thought that, based on his dramatic conversion story, that Father Paul Sawabe would have remained a dedicated priest all the days of his life. But of course, humans are much more complicated. I had ChatGPT pull together a brief dossier on his life from the journal entries:
Dossier: Father Paul Sawabe (Павел Савабе)
Full Name: Father Paul Sawabe (Japanese: Sawabe) Role: Early Japanese convert and priest in the Orthodox Mission under St. Nicholas of Japan Dates Active: 1870s–early 1900s
Overview
Father Paul Sawabe was among the first Japanese converts to Orthodox Christianity, personally brought into the Church by St. Nicholas of Japan in the early 1870s. His conversion story is one of the most dramatic in the mission's early years—he initially approached St. Nicholas with the intention of attacking him as a foreign religious threat but was disarmed by Nicholas’s gentleness and depth of knowledge. Moved by their exchange, Sawabe converted and soon entered ecclesiastical service.
Ecclesiastical Service and Early Promise
After baptism, Sawabe rapidly rose through the ranks, receiving theological training and ordination. He was dispatched as a catechist and missionary priest, and for a time, he fulfilled these roles with great zeal. St. Nicholas viewed him with hope, believing he might help form the foundation of a native Japanese clergy.
Conflicts and Controversies
As the years progressed, however, troubling patterns emerged. In St. Nicholas’s journals from 1880 onward, Sawabe is increasingly described as a disruptive and divisive presence:
He was implicated in several episodes of insubordination and refusal to cooperate with the mission structure.
He fostered factions within the seminaries and parishes, sometimes turning catechists against their superiors.
The phrase “бич Савабе” ("the scourge of Sawabe") was used by St. Nicholas to describe the destructive influence his behavior had on the Church’s internal cohesion.
In later journal entries, Nicholas criticizes Sawabe’s vanity, laziness, and cunning, lamenting that he manipulated situations for personal gain.
Despite efforts to discipline or redirect him, Sawabe’s disruptive behavior continued for decades. His actions were a recurring source of sorrow for St. Nicholas.
Later Life and Legacy
In the 1890s and early 1900s, Sawabe’s reputation was further tarnished by a false accusation of embezzling military donations. Though exonerated, the scandal left a lasting impact. By then, St. Nicholas’s tone in the diaries had shifted from disappointment to weary resignation.
He observed that Sawabe’s influence had the power to undermine years of careful pastoral work. Nevertheless, Nicholas continued to pray for his repentance, never publicly casting him aside.
Conclusion
Father Paul Sawabe remains a complicated figure in the history of the Japanese Orthodox Church. From a fiery convert and promising early leader, he became a source of deep internal conflict. His trajectory reflects both the growing pains of establishing native clergy and the personal cost of uncorrected ambition.
"A single wrong step by such a man can undo years of patient missionary work. If only he had humbled himself..."
— St. Nicholas of Japan
****Andō Kensuke (安藤 健助, 1845–1924)
A Japanese student who studied in Russia for eight years.
He became fluent in Russian and had a deep affection for the country.
Later went on to become a member of the Japanese Parliament, as well as mayor of both Yokohama and Kyoto.
Referred to in other historical accounts (including those of Metropolitan Sergius Tikhomirov) as someone who “had seen Russia both in light and darkness” and still came to love it.
In the early 1880s, he was a teacher of the Japanese language at St. Petersburg University, which corresponds with the time period and context of the journal entry.
This matches the figure who visited St. Nicholas and listened attentively to university lectures. He was likely seen as an important cultural and intellectual bridge between Russian and Japanese societies.
*****Most likely a reference to Fr. Paul Sawabe, see below.
Yes — based on the search across all five volumes, the reference to the “so-called most pious one” (Russian: благочестивейший) in Father Anatoly’s letter appears to be a sarcastic or critical term aimed at Father Pavel Sawabe.
This is supported by several entries where Father Anatoly is described as being “almost entirely aligned with the enemies” due to his weakness, and where Sawabe is blamed for manipulating and dividing the catechists, stirring unrest, and turning clergy against each other:
In May 1884, St. Nicholas writes:
“Father Anatoly, due to weakness, is almost completely with the enemies. And it’s all Sawabe’s fault. I sent him a letter forbidding catechists to abandon their posts and wander off for discussions about Church matters, but instead of obeying, he…”
(The passage continues, showing how Father Anatoly did not uphold this directive).
In another entry, Sawabe is referred to as “truly an enemy of the Church of God”, with sarcastic condemnation for his role as dean (благочинный), stating:
“So this is who they appointed dean! He has done his deanery proud…”
and referring to the collapse of order under his influence.
In this light, the term “благочестивейший” (“the most pious one”) is almost certainly a bitter ironic epithet for Sawabe, used by Father Anatoly in a letter that caused offense when read aloud — perhaps because it exposed hypocrisy or was seen as slanderous.