The Wisdom of Fools: On Knowing St. John, Metropolitan Hilarion, and the Limits of History

July 5, 2025

St. John of Shanghai and San Francisco reposed on June 19 / July 2. However, because July 2 is also the feast of the Holy Apostle Jude, the Church has transferred St. John's liturgical commemoration to the nearest Saturday—this year, June 22 (Julian) / July 5 (Gregorian).

I never knew St. John of Shanghai and San Francisco personally—I can only speak of him through the testimonies of others. But I did know the First Hierarch of the Russian Church Abroad Metropolitan Hilarion (Kapral, +2022). Some people tended to patronize him, assuming he was naïve or overly simple. But they misunderstood him.

Vladyka Hilarion heard confessions for decades. He knew the full depth of human brokenness, yet he never wavered in humility or love. He lived what St. Paul describes in 1 Corinthians 13—the hymn of love—not merely in words, but in action.¹

The way some misunderstood Metropolitan Hilarion reminds me of the way others misunderstood Prince Myshkin in Dostoyevsky’s The Idiot. There’s a striking moment in the novel when Myshkin, confronted by scorn and mockery, responds:

“You are all more or less like this — that’s your way! Maybe it’s a good thing that you are like this, but it is not right to mock someone who may be more honest than you all, only because he seems simple or awkward... You call me an idiot because I’m kind and open with people, but what sort of people are you, then, who laugh at that?”

Vladyka Hilarion was no fool. Like Prince Myshkin, his simplicity concealed a deep and compassionate wisdom. And perhaps something similar could be said of St. John.

I never met St. John. Nor did I meet his friend, Archbishop Leontii of Chile and Peru, who passed away on the same date—July 2—five years after him. Yet I feel as though I’ve known Archbishop Leontii for a long time.

Archbishop Leonty is in the center, with St. John (Maximovitch) on the right and Bishop Savva (Saračević) of Edmonton on the left. San Francisco, August 25, 1963, following the resumption of construction on the cathedral.

Maria Reshetnikova, an independent filmmaker, interviewed countless people who had known St. John. She herself never met him, but through her work—and especially through these interviews—she came to know him deeply. I can relate to that.

Both Vladyka Hilarion and St. John shared one Christ-like trait: compassion. In one interview, Maria recounted about St. John:

“I’ve made an example of one occasion when he granted a divorce to a married couple in Shanghai. He knew that the husband wanted to go to the Soviet Union and try living there—he’d wind up there soon. But the wife and the children wanted to go to the Philippines. He granted them a divorce, not because the husband beat her or cheated on her, but because the wife felt differently, and she was right in this. There was no reason for her to perish.

There are many such situations. I’ve spoken with you before about Olga Gubin, whom he didn’t reproach even with a word. He’d raised her from a child, then met her ten years later, and she had children from two different marriages, and neither marriage was Orthodox, and so on. She didn’t become any less dear to him, you see?”²

Naturally, those whom Maria interviewed focused on the good they had received from St. John. That is the nature of hagiography: it highlights what has eternal value. ³Hagiography is not concerned with historical precision—it is a form of spiritual testimony, not forensic inquiry. Hagiography is an icon; history is a photograph.

To be a historian is to be a kind of detective—gathering evidence, analyzing it, cross-questioning sources, and using one’s intuition. Critical distance is essential to the historian’s craft.

On the wall of many Orthodox homes and churches, the image of St. John radiates serenity. He is often depicted in iconographic stillness, haloed and aglow in prayer, holding a Gospel or blessing with his right hand. The icon reveals his sanctity.

But a true photograph—if it existed not just of his face but of his daily life—might tell a more difficult story.

In a recently published review of the letters by his longtime secretary, Peter Lopukhin, one line stands out:

“He is wonderfully good, intelligent, and righteous—but living with him is unbearable.”⁴

This was not an attack, but an honest admission. St. John’s relationship with God was intense—unceasing, burning. He prayed through the night, refused bodily comforts, and during the liturgical services he expected from others the same spiritual seriousness he demanded of himself. His holiness was real, but it was not easy.

Even his longtime assistant, who was constantly by his side, described him as elusive. Like the Apostle Peter, who cried out, “Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord” (Luke 5:8) when overwhelmed by Christ’s presence, he found that St. John’s closeness to God made ordinary human intimacy difficult.

If someone were to take on the task of writing a full historical biography of St. John, they would need to be critical, because that’s what responsible history requires. But even that critical history might only further confirm his sanctity—just not in the way we might expect.

Footnotes

1. “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” (1 Cor, 13:4-7).

2. “St. John Didn’t Go in for Compromises, Neither With Himself Nor With Situations,” Historical Studies of the Russian Church Abroad

3. Hagiography (from Greek hagios, “holy,” and graphe, “writing”) is the life story of a saint, written to inspire rather than to document history. It emphasizes spiritual truths and virtues over factual detail—more like an icon than a photograph.

4. “He Is Wonderfully Good, Intelligent, and Righteous—but Living with Him is Unbearable,” Historical Studies of the Russian Church Abroad