The tomb of Saint Seraphim in the crypt of the church—the Moscow Patriarchate’s Representation in Sofia. The crypt of the St. Nicholas Russian Church—the Moscow Patriarchate’s representation in the Bulgarian capital—is often referred to as the “Sofia Bethesda,” a house of mercy. It is the resting place of Defender of Orthodoxy Archbishop Seraphim (Sobolev)The newly-canonized saint, Archbishop Seraphim (Sobolev) of Boguchar (Bulgaria), has been known by the faithful since his lifetime as a defender of the Orthodox faith in the face of various new trends decisions that faced the Orthodox Church worldwide during the very complicated twentieth century.
“>St. Seraphim (Sobolev), a disciple of the last Optina Monastery elders, a dedicated ascetic, a fervent defender of the purity of Orthodoxy, and a widely venerated miracle-worker in Bulgaria. He was canonized in 2016 by both the Russian and Bulgarian Orthodox Churches.
Arriving in 1921 in this land foretold to him by an elder as a “good little place,” Bishop Seraphim served here faithfully for nearly thirty years. He reposed on the The Sunday of the Triumph of Orthodoxy
“>Sunday of the Triumph of Orthodoxy in 1950, leaving a significant legacy in the history of the Bulgarian Church, numerous followers and spiritual disciples, including Bulgarian clergy and hierarchs, as well as several important theological works, both books and articles.
“Visit me at my grave, and I will help you”The Bulgarians know of “Grandpa Vladyka Seraphim” not as a theologian, but more as an ascetic of piety and saint whom God bestowed with the abundant grace of performing miracles.
“>Miracles through the prayers of this wondrous saint began to occur even during his lifetime, and in great abundance after his repose. Every day, people of all walks of life come to his resting place, seeking his intercession for a wide range of requests, expressed in various ways, be it a heartfelt prayer with bended knee, or a practical question to the church attendants, such as, “Where can I leave a note with my prayer request?”
And not a single petition goes unanswered. For even an unfulfilled “wish” or an unrealized healing is still an answer—a miracle in itself, a profound encounter with the mystery of God’s Divine Providence.
Saint Seraphim himself would tell his spiritual children, “No prayerful tear is in vain.”
And to those burdened by sorrows, he would repeat the words from the hymn to the Forty Martyrs of Sebaste: “The winter is harsh, but paradise is sweet.”
The crypt of the Russian Church, as the Patriarchal Representation of the Moscow Patriarch in Bulgaria is called, is a place well-known to several generations of Bulgarian students and seminarians of theological schools, who testify to the saint’s help in passing exams. There are also known cases of the saint’s “assistance” in gaining admission to educational institutions.
By the grace of God, I had the opportunity to translate from Bulgarian testimonies of miracles that occurred through the prayers of Archbishop Seraphim for the canonization commission of the Russian Orthodox Church. Such testimonies had been collected before, but after an announcement on Bulgarian national television that the canonization was being prepared and that the Patriarchal Representation in Sofia was gathering testimonies, so many were submitted that additional translators had to be called in to assist. There were testimonies from Russia as well. The most important thing to note is the joy and inspiration with which the news of the great archpastor’s upcoming canonization was received in Bulgaria, where he had long been venerated as a saint and a miracle worker.
Hundreds of people wanted to share their stories—sometimes deeply personal and extraordinarily touching—their joy and their experience of encountering the heavenly world. Among the authors were deeply religious people, those of little faith, and even those who came to believe after receiving an answer to their petition. The stories themselves testified that none of the authors had entered the crypt by chance. The translation work was carried out in the light of this quiet, otherworldly joy. And it was remembered in connection with a very recent incident that took place in the crypt of the Russian Church in Sofia, just before the beginning of a Moleben to St. Seraphim.
The Patriarchal Representation of the Moscow Patriarch in Sofia—The Crypt in the Church
A woman attending the Moleben asked other worshippers where she could leave a note, a prayer request. She placed her letter to the saint in the designated box and sighed anxiously: “I hope he reads it!”
At that moment, I shared with her—and now I wish to share here—a testimony of a miracle that occurred a year after the saint’s canonization. Since this story involves a vision in a dream, it was recorded and published only later, with the blessing of a family spiritual father—a well-known and respected elder.
Christians are generally advised not to trust dreams, but there are dreams that come from God. The case described below was recognized by an experienced spiritual father, a monk, as precisely such a divine vision.
In the Bulgarian family at the center of this story, St. Seraphim (Sobolev) is deeply venerated. When the mother of Z., a servant of God (a believer but not yet deeply church-going), was diagnosed with cancer and scheduled for surgery, so he traveled to the crypt of the Patriarchal Representation in Sofia to pray for her and for his daughter, who was suffering from depressive episodes.
While writing his prayer request, he noticed the church attendants carrying out a box filled with letters addressed to the saint (apparently already overflowing). He thought to himself: “Why are they rushing? When did people drop their letters, and when did the saint read them? He wouldn’t have had time to read them so quickly!”
Soon after, Z. left Sofia, and about twenty days later he had a dream. In it, he was standing with a family friend from Sofia (a devoted venerator of Saint Seraphim) outside the fenced courtyard of the Russian Church, its gates closed.
Then he saw St. Seraphim emerge from the crypt—exactly as he appeared in the portrait inside the church, wearing the same cassock. The saint walked around the courtyard. On the windowsills of the crypt, there were stacks of letters—some opened, some still sealed (worshippers who do not make it in time before the church closes often leave their letters there, though Z. had not known this).
Then the saint opened the gates and let Z. and his companion inside. His companion went off to look for her letter, while the bishop approached Z. and said:
“For the information of those who doubt, I read all the letters!”
Then he handed Z. his own prayer request, on which was written:
“Rejoice!”
Later, it turned out that the biopsy results—to the oncologists’ surprise—did not confirm the presence of cancer in Z.’s mother. The tumor was found to be benign (perhaps due to the anointing oil from the icon of the Theotokos “Pantanassa”). His daughter’s condition also improved. And Z. himself was strengthened in faith.
The Tomb of Saint Seraphim (Sobolev)
Not all stories have endings like this. Even through the prayers of holy ascetics, God does not always grant what is asked, and sometimes miracles occur without us even asking for them. But every miracle is a kind of advance, a lesson, a message, or a warning—and must be treated with the utmost seriousness.
Source: Orthodox Christianity