The Easter Procession (Solzhenitsyn)
Short summary
Peredelkino, Russia, half a century after the Revolution. On Easter night, the forecourt of the patriarchal Church of the Transfiguration filled with rowdy teenagers who came not to worship but to gawk. The Narrator observed the scene, wanting to capture it in a painting.
The young people smoked, swore, played loud music on transistor radios, and treated the sacred ground like a dance hall. They vastly outnumbered the actual believers, who huddled fearfully against the church walls. The police present smiled amiably at the youth, doing nothing to stop their disrespectful behavior.
When the procession began, only a small group emerged: a terrified churchwarden, ten women singing hymns, and seven priests in bright vestments. No worshippers joined the procession. The rowdy crowd pushed behind them, treating it as entertainment. The Narrator reflected on what these millions of youth had become.
The truth is that one day they will turn and trample on us all. And as for those who urged them on to this, they will trample on them too.
Detailed summary
Division into sections is editorial.
Setting the scene: before the Easter procession
Half an hour before the Easter bells began ringing at the patriarchal Church of the Transfiguration in Peredelkino, the forecourt resembled a Saturday-night dance in a remote industrial town. The narrator observed the scene, contemplating how conventional artistic depiction could reveal more truth than photography about this Easter procession half a century after the Revolution.
Girls in bright scarves and ski pants walked around in noisy groups, jostling to enter the crowded church where old women had held their places since early evening. The girls yapped at the elderly from the doorway, then strolled around shrieking and calling to each other, staring at the colored lights hanging before icons.
Disruptive youth dominate the churchyard
Boys ranging from hulking toughs to scrawny weaklings all wore the same arrogant expressions. Almost all wore caps, and about one in four had been drinking while one in ten was drunk. Half of them smoked in a repulsive way with cigarettes stuck to their lower lips. Instead of incense, swathes of grey-blue cigarette smoke rose toward the Easter sky under the electric lights.
They spat on the asphalt, jostled each other playfully, and whistled loudly. Some used obscene language while others jigged to dance music from transistor radios. Some kissed their girlfriends, who were then passed from boy to boy, all staring aggressively as if knives might appear at any moment.
...the attitude of these youths to churchgoers is not the usual attitude of the young to the old or of guests to a host; they regard them as a housewife regards flies.
Their lips twisted into gangsterish leers, their brazen talk, loud laughter, flirting and snide jokes, smoking and spitting created an atmosphere of mockery. This generation was not the militant atheists of the thirties who snatched Easter cakes from people's hands, but rather idly curious youth driven by boredom after the ice-hockey season ended and before football began.
...it all amounts to an insult to the Passion of Christ, which is being celebrated a few yards away from them. It is expressed in the arrogant, derisory look worn by these snotty hooligans...
Intimidated believers and police presence
Three or four policemen strolled nearby to keep watch, but they failed to notice the law-breaking as the boys swore as part of normal conversation. The police smiled amiably at the rising generation and would not remove cigarettes from their mouths or caps from their heads, since this was a public place where the constitutional right not to believe in God was protected.
Huddling close to the cemetery fence and church walls, the believers dared not protest but glanced around nervously, hoping no one would attack them or steal their watches, which they needed to check the final minutes before Christ's resurrection. The grinning, swirling mob far outnumbered the Orthodox faithful.
They are even more intimidated and suppressed than in the days of Tartar rule; the Tartars at least did not come to crowd out the faithful at the Easter Morning service.
The Easter procession begins
The bell tolled loudly but sounded somehow false and tinny rather than deep and sonorous. The crowd of shrieking youngsters began milling around as two laymen walked ahead asking comrades to leave space. Behind them came an elderly, balding churchwarden carrying a heavy cut-glass lantern on a pole.
He looked up cautiously at the lamp while trying to keep it steady, glancing from side to side with equal apprehension. The spectators could sense his terror that the builders of the new society might close in and attack him. Behind the lantern came two men carrying a religious banner, also huddling together from fear.
Ten women followed in pairs, holding thick lighted candles, their faces set in unworldly gazes, prepared for death if attacked. Two were young girls of the same age as those crowding with the boys, yet their faces appeared pure and bright. The women walked in close formation, singing solemnly as if surrounded by people crossing themselves and praying.
It is extraordinary—a religious procession without worshippers, without people crossing themselves, a religious procession of people with caps on, smoking cigarettes...
Reflections on the generation and the future
Seven priests and deacons in bright copes followed, walking out of step and bunched together with barely room to swing their censers. An old woman turned aside to cross herself and commented to another that this year was better with more police present.
The narrator reflected on these millions they had bred and reared, wondering what would become of them and where the enlightened efforts of great thinkers had led. He concluded that one day they would turn and trample on everyone, including those who had urged them on. The date was Easter Day, April 10, 1966.