Life Before and After Baptism: 10 Conversations
Archpriest Gennady Fast

Many people today wrestle with questions: Should I believe or not? And if I do, do I need the Church? Can any organization really help with salvation? Should I get baptized? And if so, should it be in Orthodoxy? What must I do for Baptism to have real power? Archpriest Gennady Fast addresses these and many other questions, sharing memories of his own journey to Orthodoxy.

This book is intended for those preparing to receive the Sacrament of Baptism, as well as for those who may have doubts, seek clarity, or wish to deepen their understanding of the Sacrament’s essence.

Each of the ten conversations answers a specific question, illuminating a different aspect of Baptism. The cycle is structured so that readers can start with any section. Yet, step by step, Father Gennady lifts the veil between man and God, broadening our understanding of the Sacrament.

The first two conversations serve as an introduction, tackling the most painful questions—the very ones that often push people away not just from the Church, but from God altogether. In the first talk, with sorrow and love, the priest speaks about the meaning of suffering, cautioning readers against resentment and bitterness. The second section expands on the famous words of Archpriest Valentin Sventsitsky: «Every sin within the Church is a sin not of the Church, but against it.» Father Gennady reflects on how to live as a believer in an age of consumerism, how to orient oneself, who can help one find the path to God, and why the Church remains the Church even in these «well-fed» times.

The next seven conversations delve into more contentious issues directly related to Baptism. Through thoughtful questions—some simple, others more complex—the interlocutor elicits profound answers from Father Gennady. Yet it is only in the final, tenth conversation that the most crucial truth is revealed—the one every candidate for Baptism must remember. Only then do both the interviewer and the readers fully grasp how the Sacrament of Baptism can transform a person’s earthly life.

Conversation 1. A Loving God and a Suffering World

— Father Gennady, Christianity teaches that God is Love, that He infinitely loves His creation. Yet everywhere we see unending suffering—sometimes beginning at birth, as some are born with disabilities. Even healthy people face hardships, always at risk of sudden illness or tragedy. How do we reconcile God’s love with the reality around us?

— Your question is as old as the world. People have always asked it. The Bible contains entire texts devoted to this theme—the Book of Job, the Book of Habakkuk, the Psalms of David. Dostoevsky famously wrote that the suffering of a single child outweighs all possible justifications for the world’s existence…

There is profound truth in this question. God did not condemn Job or Habakkuk, even though they questioned Him boldly—especially Job. Ancient Jewish tradition says Habakkuk drew a circle and vowed not to leave it until God answered his complaint. In other words, he cast God in the role of defendant.

There are two ways this question arises: from a proud, resentful heart that seeks no real answer—only the satisfaction of feeling wronged by God Himself—or from a sincere, compassionate heart. The former is tragic, for it springs from pride. The latter is a cry of genuine faith.

Christians are called to carry their cross. «Whoever wants to follow Me must deny themselves, take up their cross» (Mk 8:34). Some crosses are lifelong—like being born blind, never seeing a Rembrandt, or deaf, never hearing Bach. If life ended here, this would be cruelty. But Christians (and others) know life is eternal, and earthly suffering gains meaning only in light of eternity.

Why does God allow suffering? Sometimes to steer us from greater harm. The generation of my parents endured revolution, civil war, Stalin’s purges, World War II, Khrushchev’s persecution of the Church… Yet they emerged with qualities we now struggle to attain—strength, resilience, depth. Hardship shaped them.

Deprivation is compensated by something greater. Many veterans say their months on the front lines—though brutal—were the pinnacle of their lives. Why did Solzhenitsyn need eight years in the Gulag? So the world could receive Solzhenitsyn. Without that suffering, he’d have been just another schoolteacher or Soviet writer.

Sometimes one person’s suffering becomes another’s cross. A child is born disabled—the parents bear the burden. Yet that child’s soul is whole; only the body is afflicted. In God’s Kingdom, they will shine. But here, their presence teaches us compassion—so we don’t become spiritual invalids ourselves.

Conversation 2: A Believer in the Age of Consumerism

Q: Father, since we’ve touched on the passing generation—on the essence of human life revealed in critical moments—it’s worth noting that we live in prosperous times. Social and personal priorities have shifted dramatically. We strive to become the ultimate consumer society, hindered only by modest incomes. But when money allows, it’s all about the finest, most powerful, «brand-name,» «five-star» luxuries… This leaves its mark on the spiritual state of modern Christians.

Fr. Gennady: This isn’t unique to our era. Even computers and modern conveniences, in a sense, can erode the soul. Yet we see devout people who use technology productively—because they use it, not the other way around. That’s the key difference!

In my childhood, I heard folks defensively say, «It’s not a sin to own a car!»—because back then, most believers were uneasy about such things. I recall a man who bought a new wardrobe and couldn’t sleep all night, tormented by guilt. «The old closet held clothes just fine—why waste money on a new one? Should’ve helped the poor instead!»

Yes, you can own a car—but cars shouldn’t own you. The same goes for technology. It’s not gadgets that destroy us; it’s the ancient serpent exploiting them. Fighting progress is futile. In 1848, workers smashed factory machines, blaming them for unemployment. Today, we complain about outdated equipment instead. The underlying idea hasn’t changed.

Not long ago, some Orthodox called computers «the beast,» satanic inventions. Now no one says that—yet the danger remains: when anything enslaves us, displacing God, it becomes an idol. Today’s golden calf might be the virtual world.

Q: Ideally, Christians—especially clergy—should model how to live in a consumer society. But when even the Church falls short of Gospel ideals, it pushes people away. How can we ignore the rudeness of some parish staff or priests who bear little resemblance to Christ the Good Shepherd? Does a modern «self-sufficient» person even need a mediator to reach God?

Fr. Gennady: As the ancients said, «Potters aren’t gods!» Priests are human. They aren’t from Mars or Paradise—they come from our families, our society. I’m not excusing failures, but let’s be honest: we’re all products of the same culture.

Yes, a priest should mirror the Good Shepherd. St. Paul and the Church Fathers wrote extensively on clerical morality. Yet history shows no golden age when all pastors were saints. There have always been those whose lives contradicted the Gospel.

Aggressive, self-serving individuals exist in every field—politics, business, even the Church. Their hypocrisy draws attention, but the Church’s mission includes self-purification. Over centuries, she’s managed this imperfectly—sometimes better, sometimes worse.

So what should you do if you encounter such clergy?

• Walk away, disgusted by hypocrisy—but then where? The world outside is far cruder.
• Seek God’s Kingdom anyway. Don’t ignore the flaws—overcome them! Deep down, some want priests to fail. It’s a lazy excuse: «Why fight sin or go to church if even priests are bad?»

But for those truly seeking Christ, He does provide luminous examples. I’ve met countless good shepherds worth emulating. In my provincial town, I honestly don’t know a single «bad» priest—just men with flaws (like me).

Let’s be frank: we find what we look for. If we seek light, we’ll see it. Yes, we must address scandals—but that’s the Church’s internal work (unless crimes are involved).

Who’s responsible for clergy quality? Bishops—and all the faithful. Priests come from our homes! The Church isn’t just clergy; it’s us, the baptized, who complain yet rarely act. Let’s start purifying the Church—with ourselves, our families, and our children’s upbringing.

Q: But why do we need mediators at all? Can’t we approach God directly?

Fr. Gennady: (Laughs) «I’m a priest, and you ask why I’m needed? If you can talk to God alone, go ahead! But since you came to me, apparently you do need something…»

In Christianity, Christ is the one Mediator. Yet in practice, we’re social beings. You don’t become a scientist without teachers, books, or mentors. Even birth requires parents!

Our spiritual life is deeply personal—yet we need guidance: someone to teach prayer, point to a church, or perform sacraments.

An ancient story: A hermit so holy that angels served his Liturgy once misworded the Creed. A visitor corrected him. Next service, the angel returned. «Why didn’t you correct me earlier?» the hermit asked. The angel replied, «God willed that you learn from each other.»

God spoke directly to Abraham and Moses—but most saints learned through others. Metropolitan Anthony Bloom (1914–2003) said it perfectly: «No one believes in God unless they see a glimpse of His Kingdom on someone’s face.» That’s true mediation.

What about Confession? Repentance begins privately—but we’re not disembodied spirits. Our bodies sinned; our bodies must express remorse (through bows, fasting, etc.).

Yet why confess to a priest? Even non-believers feel lighter after sharing burdens with a stranger on a train. Unspoken sin festers. Early Christians practiced mutual confession (James 5:16). Desert monks like Anthony the Great (who weren’t priests) heard confessions.

But there’s more: absolution. Christ gave apostles—and their successors—the power to forgive sins (John 20:22–23). This grace isn’t mechanical; it combines human repentance, priestly compassion, and God’s love.

Do confessing Christians lack direct communion with God? Absurd! But full liberation from sin requires sacramental confession. Even I, a priest, confess to others. That’s Christ’s design.

Conversation 3: Adults and Children Before the Holy Font – Who Will Enter the Kingdom of God Faster?

Q: Father, I’m concerned about the practice of infant baptism. With confession, things are more or less clear—it’s our conscious participation in the sacrament, where a person receives forgiveness of sins through heartfelt repentance. But the forgiveness of sins is also a key aspect of baptism—specifically, the washing away of all sins committed before entering the Church. How does this fundamental meaning of baptism align with the widespread practice of baptizing infants, where godparents make vows on their behalf, while the children themselves are brought to the font without the opportunity for a conscious entry into the Church at a more mature age?

Fr. Gennady: First, it’s important to note that historically, there have been different forms of baptism. The early Christian Church (first four centuries) did not universally practice infant baptism. While infants were baptized from the beginning, there was also another tradition.

St. John Chrysostom (344/354–407) was the son of a devout widow who chose not to remarry so as not to hinder her son’s Christian upbringing. Yet this faithful Christian woman did not see the need to baptize him as a child. St. Basil the Great (330–379) came from a family of ten children, five of whom are glorified as saints (and the others were hardly criminals). St. Gregory the Theologian (329–389) was the son of a bishop—yet none of them were baptized as infants. Their parents allowed them to make that choice as adults.

Meanwhile, other great saints—St. Nicholas the Wonderworker (c. 270–345), St. Athanasius the Great (c. 298–373), and many others—were baptized as infants. Thus, both practices coexisted peacefully, and both bore abundant fruit. However, by the 5th century (first in the West, then in the East), infant baptism became the norm—and remains so today.

Debating which tradition is more effective, or whether they could coexist today, is a complex theological discussion. But as for infant baptism itself—we make many decisions for children without their consent. A child doesn’t choose their gender, nationality, or era of birth. They don’t select their talents or temperament. Parents decide whether they attend kindergarten or are homeschooled. At breakfast, no one asks the child, «Do you want to eat?»—they’re simply fed. Likewise, devout parents, having entered God’s Kingdom, naturally desire the same for their children.

This was true even in ancient times: the rite of circumcision (incorporating a boy into God’s people) took place on the eighth day after birth. In Christianity, infants are consecrated to God through baptism and raised in the Church. Of course, there comes a time when the child must decide whether to embrace or reject their parents’ choice—or remain indifferent. But while they’re young, parents have every right to initiate them into their faith and allow them to receive the same grace they themselves live by.

Scripture and experience teach that every person inherits the seed of ancestral sin—a distortion of human nature manifesting in a tendency toward evil. «I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me,» laments the Psalmist (Ps. 50:7). St. Paul echoes this: «I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing» (Rom. 7:15).

We inherit this damaged nature at birth—and its healing begins immediately. Even a newborn’s first cry signals the pain of entering a fallen world. Parents fight not just physical illnesses but also the spiritual brokenness in their child. Thus, from the earliest age, Christian parents have sought to baptize their infants—washing away ancestral sin and nurturing them in the Church through family participation in the sacraments, especially the Eucharist.

The Problem with Modern Infant Baptism
Yet today, infant baptism is often a distortion of Christian life. More priests, bishops, and conscientious parents recognize this. Recent years have seen positive steps—like mandatory pre-baptismal catechesis in many dioceses—but these are not yet universal.

Twenty-five years ago, most of our people were unbaptized and unbelieving. Today, Russia is overwhelmingly «Orthodox» by baptism—but has morality improved? Are there fewer alcoholics? Has drug abuse vanished? Are families stronger? Are abortions rarer? The opposite is true.

We once said, «Look how people live without God! Come to the Church—here, you can change.» Now, we can’t even say that honestly. Why? Because the baptized are the Church. We are the ones getting abortions. We are divorcing. We are corrupt, addicted, and immoral. Mass baptism did not bring mass renewal—in fact, moral decay accelerated. We must acknowledge this mistake. Some clergy warned against indiscriminate baptism post-communism, but their voices were drowned in the rush of thousands seeking the Church.

The Way Forward
Church Tradition permits baptism at any age—but it must truly incorporate a person into the Church. For adults, this is direct; for children, it happens through family life in the Church.

Today, many dioceses require pre-baptismal instruction—an imperfect but necessary step. Adults are catechized directly; for infants, parents and godparents prepare instead.

Q: What advice would you give parents choosing names for their children?

Fr. Gennady: In the early Church, baptismal names were diverse—Jewish, Greek, Latin, Coptic, Armenian, etc. Even today, some Orthodox Churches (like the Serbian or Georgian) freely allow ethnic names. Before the 11th-century schism, all Europe was Orthodox—so names like Siegfried, Richard, Charles, and William were Orthodox! Why should these names now be excluded?

Yet today, if we meet an «Edward,» we can almost guarantee he’s unbaptized. Not because «Edward» is unchristian (there are saints with this name!), but because in Russia, it signals secularism.

We can’t ignore local tradition. In the Russian Church, we typically choose names from the calendar of saints. But this poses a missionary problem: why must a newly baptized Khakas, Tuvan, or Japanese woman become a «Tatiana,» «Apollinaria,» or «Olympiada»? These names feel foreign and unpronounceable to them.

A solution could be dual naming: the person receives a saint’s name at baptism but keeps their birth name. This would help «churchify» ethnic names without making converts feel they must abandon their identity to follow Christ.

I firmly believe we must embrace the names of all nations. Refusing to do so will hinder missions, making Orthodoxy seem like cultural imperialism rather than the Gospel of Christ.

Conversation 4. Can We Promise God Another Person’s Faithfulness?

Question:
Father, how relevant is the institution of godparents today? On a human level, the desire to strengthen ties with someone you deeply trust is understandable, but what is the spiritual meaning behind it? It’s unclear why a child’s spiritual growth should be entrusted to godparents—who often have little influence on their godchildren—rather than to the parents, who raise them daily. And when both parents and godparents are completely non-religious, the situation borders on absurdity…

Answer:
You’ve asked a difficult question. Many are surprised to learn that historically, godparents (sponsors) emerged not in connection with infant baptism but with the baptism of adults. When someone came to faith and sought baptism, a respected member of the Church would vouch for them, testifying that they had truly believed, renounced paganism, changed their way of life, and now wished to join God’s Church. In short, sponsorship was originally a guarantee for adults.

As for children, Scripture is unequivocal: «Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved—you and your household» (Acts 16:31). There’s no mention of godparents. Children are baptized by their parents’ faith. I’m unaware of any reliable historical evidence about when godparents began assuming responsibility for children too. Perhaps none exists—I’ve never encountered any.

So what is the role of godparents today? The modern understanding is well known: godparents are friends of the parents, chosen to formalize a bond, often with no thought to spiritual mission or responsibility. Sometimes, godparents and godchildren live far apart—even in different cities. This is how the institution of sponsorship is trivialized.

Such parents may have many good acquaintances, but none who regularly confess or take Communion. «We can’t find a suitable godparent!» they lament. Of course you can’t! I don’t know any sailors because I live in a landlocked city—they’ve no reason to be there. If you want to meet sailors, go to Murmansk or Vladivostok. And how can you expect to have devout friends if you don’t live a church life? You might drop in occasionally to light a candle or pray, but you’re not part of the church community. No wonder you lack believing friends. «Tell me who your friends are, and I’ll tell you who you are.» If you have no faithful friends, you’re likely not faithful yourself.

Now, why don’t parents make vows for their children, even though they are the ones raising them—not the godparents? I don’t know. This deserves discussion. At least one parent should take vows for the child, since baptism is performed by the parents’ faith, not the godparents’. A godparent’s role is to assist in spiritual upbringing—teaching Scripture and prayers, bringing the child to church for Communion, and praying for them. At best, modern godparents (if they’re believers at all) only pray for their godchildren, as other involvement is often impossible.

Questions remain, and as baptismal practices evolve, so might sponsorship. Consider: you make a vow for a child, but they may grow up indifferent—they never promised anything themselves.

Here, ancient Jewish tradition is instructive. Boys were circumcised on the eighth day, entering God’s people, but at 13, they underwent bar mitzvah («son of the commandment»); girls at 12 (bat mitzvah). From then on, they bore full responsibility for keeping the Torah’s 613 commandments.

Christianity has something similar. Catholic and some Protestant churches practice confirmation—a conscious profession of faith by youth. A godparent doesn’t vow for the child (that’s impossible); they promise to guide the godchild into the Church. The child, once grown, must affirm their infant baptism to consciously embrace Christianity. Some may dispute this, but church-wide discussion would be fruitful.

To today’s godparents, I can only urge: with godly fear—knowing you’ll answer to God for these children—participate in their spiritual formation and pray for them. This applies even more to parents, who’ve made no promises yet act as if it’s not their concern! Who else will raise their children?

Above all, let’s remember: even within current practice, we can live devoutly and lead children to Christ—which we must do tirelessly.

Conversation 5. Does Baptism Guarantee Spiritual and Physical Well-being?

Question:
Father, among those seeking Holy Baptism, there are likely many who desire it as a form of protection—almost like a talisman. They seek not so much Christ Himself but hope for some invisible spiritual patronage. Is this acceptable? Does it align with the Gospel’s teachings?

Answer:
Indeed, today most who request Baptism—especially for their children—cite «divine protection» as their primary motivation. Without God, people feel insecure, uneasy, and alone, often fearful. Life is fraught with dangers and sorrows; illness or suffering can strike anyone at any moment. Young, healthy, successful people perish in car accidents, rampant crime unsettles society… Humans are weak; they seek shelter. This desire isn’t inherently wrong, nor is it untrue that Baptism offers such shelter. In this Sacrament, we unite with the Lord, Who does protect us—though who said God doesn’t protect the unbaptized?

The Creator guards every living being. Yet when someone consciously turns to God, it matters profoundly. From birth, an Angel watches over each cradle, but we believe Baptism grants a Guardian Angel and a heavenly patron—the saint whose name we receive intercedes for us. Still, neither the New Testament nor the Creed mentions this; they speak only of Baptism. But people rarely seek that Baptism…

We mustn’t confuse Baptism with an insurance policy: «I’m baptized, so I’m covered.» That’s a pagan view, alien to Christianity. Baptism remits sins, clothes us in Christ, and rebirths us spiritually—this is its essence. Everything else is secondary.

«The Angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear Him» (Ps. 34:7). Baptism joins us to this fellowship of «God-fearers» and the Church. Yet we ignore this fellowship, misunderstand being «clothed in Christ,» and find spiritual rebirth baffling. The call to renounce sin depresses us—we just want our «divine security guard»!

Thus, seemingly sound ideas about God’s protection warp into something barely recognizable as Christian Baptism—a magical perception of the Sacrament. A decade ago, I first heard of the absurd (to Christians) practice of «secret double names» to ward off curses or the evil eye. Now, in my city, it’s epidemic. Already-baptized individuals, whose names are public, beg for a second, hidden name known only to themselves. Their logic? «If everyone knows me as Ivan, but my secret name is Pyotr, curses aimed at Ivan will miss me.» This is lightyears from the Gospel. The Church Fathers never taught such things. It’s pure occultism—pseudo-Christian paganism.

Double names can be legitimate (e.g., Prince Vladimir took «Vasily» at baptism; his grandmother Olga became «Helen»). Some cultures traditionally give multiple names. The sin lies in the superstitious use of such practices, which is not just corrupt but laughable.

Question:
What about heavenly patronage in other faiths? Can followers of Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, or Zoroastrianism be saved? Or Christians of other traditions (Orthodox, Catholic, Protestant)? God is one, yet paths diverge so drastically—each convinced theirs alone is true…

Answer:
I often hear this question, but rarely from genuine anguish. Usually, it’s either idle curiosity or a pretext for spiritual inertia. True anguish comes only to those straddling two cultures or faiths, forced to choose.

So which faith is «best»? God alone judges. We know this absolutely: «There is no other name under heaven… by which we must be saved» (Acts 4:12). Beyond this, we dare not presume. «God’s ways are inscrutable» (Rom. 11:33). The Church offers the path—the one trodden by the Theotokos, the Apostles, St. Nicholas, St. John Chrysostom, St. Sergius of Radonezh, and St. Seraphim of Sarov. Christ said: «I am the Way» (John 14:6). We affirm this as the path—no other exists. As St. Augustine said: «In essentials, unity; in non-essentials, liberty; in all things, love.» Amid religious diversity, there remains «one Lord, one faith, one baptism» (Eph. 4:5).

Other faiths? Spiritual life is as varied as life itself. We wear different clothes, speak differently, prefer different art—so too do people believe differently.

Paganism worships creation, not the Creator—whether as impersonal forces (Buddhism, Taoism) or warring deities. However philosophically refined, these lack the personal God of Scripture.

Judaism? All was well—until it rejected Christ. Pre-Messiah, the Old Covenant sufficed; now, without the New, it cannot save.

Islam confesses one God but demands global conversion by force, rejecting Christ’s salvation…

Even within Christianity, divisions abound. Protestantism acknowledges Christ but rejects His Church. Yet unlike ancient heresies (Arianism, Nestorianism), it thrives. In some Russian regions, practicing Protestants outnumber Orthodox! Why?

Arian heretics flip-flopped with each new bishop or emperor. Modern jurisdictional squabbles (Moscow vs. Constantinople) resemble this. Most laity don’t care—«Sort it out yourselves!»

The «Russian Church Abroad» was long deemed schismatic. Yet its split from Moscow was political («Whites» vs. «Reds»), not theological.

Protestants revived early Christian fervor. Once, while ministering to Cossacks, a man raged about his wife joining Jehovah’s Witnesses: «They don’t drink or smoke—now she’s hooked! I had to… educate her.» He detailed spousal abuse to «preserve her Orthodoxy.» Later, the Cossacks drank themselves senseless. I thought: «My pious mother would weep to see me here!» Yet these were «Orthodox» men—while the «heretic» Witnesses lived soberly.

Until we surpass Protestants morally, our hands are tied. We can catalog their doctrinal errors (many books do), but to what end? Protestantism’s core is «born again» (John 3:3)—not a ritual but inner conversion. They baptize only after this rebirth, which distorts the Sacrament but emphasizes repentance.

Every Protestant can pinpoint their conversion date. Then they form tight-knit communities—something we Orthodox neglect, except in rare parishes.

We believe the fullness of truth and grace resides in Orthodoxy. But judgment belongs to God alone—not to bishops or councils. We say only: «Here is the path.»

Every faith contains divine seeds. Yet salvation is only in Christ, only in His Church—joined through Holy Baptism. This we must never forget.

Conversation 6. Baptism: Once and for All, or Not?

Question:
Father, the Creed affirms «one Baptism.» But what about those baptized Orthodox who later strayed into sects and now wish to return? Or those baptized in other Christian churches?

Answer:
Let’s start with Protestants. Historically, the Holy Synod ruled in the 19th century that anyone baptized «in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit» is validly baptized and may be received through Chrismation. But this overlooks nuances.

While the Trinitarian formula is used, many Baptists and Pentecostals don’t regard Baptism as a Sacrament. For them, it’s merely a «pledge of good conscience» (1 Peter 3:21) — a public testimony after they believe their sins were already forgiven at conversion. If they themselves deny Baptism remits sins, why should we recognize it as such?

Thus, some Orthodox clergy (myself included) advocate baptizing such converts. «According to your faith be it unto you» (Mt 9:29). Where no faith in Baptism’s sacramental power existed, the form alone may not suffice.

For lapsed Orthodox returning from sects, St. Ambrose of Optina advised reception through Chrismation — renewing the seal of the Spirit without rebaptism. This seems most pastoral.

Question:
What about «affusion» (pouring water) instead of immersion?

Answer:
«Baptism» (Greek baptizo) means immersion. The 49th and 50th Apostolic Canons mandate triple immersion. Affusion violates early Church practice and the Trebnik’s rubrics. Only two exceptions exist (Council of Carthage, 419): imminent death or severe disability (e.g., paralysis).

I’ve served decades in the Church, including Soviet times when immersion was still possible — even in prisons and hospitals. Affusion usually reflects priestly negligence, not necessity. Thankfully, many dioceses now restore full immersion as the only proper form.

But what of those already baptized by pouring? History offers mixed answers:

• Patriarch Filaret (1619–1633) ordered their rebaptism.
• Luke (Voino-Yasenetsky) likewise rejected such baptisms.

Yet I hesitate to rebaptize, since we’re «born again» once (John 3:3). This requires conciliar resolution. Meanwhile, truncated forms remain sinful — immersion alone images Christ’s three-day burial and resurrection (Rom. 6:4).

Shockingly, some report being «baptized without water» — lost in crowded ceremonies. One woman realized a decade later she’d missed her baptism while sitting out due to illness! Such negligence mocks the Sacrament.

Conversation 7. Are There Obstacles to Baptism?

Question:
If Baptism requires repentance, what about «unconscious» sins — like cohabitation in a «civil marriage»? Can these hinder Baptism? How does one recognize sin’s estrangement from God?

Answer:
Humanity has lived with sin since Eden, but society crumbles when sin becomes invisible — no longer shameful but celebrated. Today, what was once condemned (e.g., promiscuity) earns titles like «sex symbol.» When a culture glorifies what it should mourn, it nears collapse — like Sodom or the Canaanites.

God made sin «exceedingly sinful» (Rom. 7:13) through the Law’s mirror. Now, the Gospel offers escape. But how to awaken modern consciences?

• Personal Witness: Every Christian must testify — even when met with hostility (Mt 10:22).
• Prayer: That our preaching bears grace-filled fruit.
• Examination: Comparing life to Scripture’s clear standards (e.g., 1 Cor. 6:9–10 on sexual immorality).

Cohabitation is an obstacle, for it rejects marriage’s sacramental bond. Yet the remedy isn’t refusal of Baptism but urgent catechesis: «Now is the day of salvation» (2 Cor. 6:2).

Conversation 8. «In My Name They Will Cast Out Demons»: Baptism and Exorcism in the Modern World

Question:
Father Gennady, there’s much talk about exorcism lately. Could you share your perspective on this phenomenon in connection with the Sacrament of Baptism?

Answer:
The realm of demons and dark forces is real. In the early Church, catechism wasn’t limited to instruction—it included exorcism. Exorcists were a distinct clerical order, often not priests but individuals blessed to expel unclean spirits. Before Baptism, a person had to be freed from demonic influence.

Today, we face a different scenario: a monastery might send someone to a parish church, instructing them to be baptized before receiving deliverance prayers. Yet canonically, one cannot baptize a person still oppressed by a demon—it should be the reverse! The individual ought to be sent from the parish to a monastery for exorcism first, unless in mortal danger.

Modern baptismal rites retain four exorcism prayers. Demonic oppression is especially palpable where occultism, esotericism, and idolatry thrive. Even many baptized Orthodox remain spiritually wounded or demonized.

Thus, exorcism is essential. Christ Himself said: «In My name they will cast out demons» (Mk 16:17). It’s the Church’s ministry. Yet exorcism today requires conciliar discernment—clear guidelines suited to our era.

The Superstition Epidemic
Russia’s post-Soviet spiritual vacuum has birthed an epidemic of superstitions: the evil eye, curses, and other folk fears. These often reflect not actual demonization but a superstitious worldview—a distortion of faith itself.

«My headache means the neighbor cursed me!» A sober believer measures their blood pressure instead. Even academia isn’t immune—professors and artists succumb to astrology, «bioenergy,» or UFO myths, trading medieval dragons for pseudoscientific phantoms.

Superstition violates the Third Commandment: «Do not take the Lord’s name in vain» (Ex. 20:7). True faith dispels these mists like dawn. Whether a PhD or a church janitor, the one who ardently believes is free from such bondage.

Two Extremes to Avoid

• Dismissing all spiritual warfare as superstition—this reduces faith to rationalism.
• Blaming every misfortune on demons—ignoring psychological or physical causes.

Pastoral wisdom must discern true possession from trauma or mental illness. As St. John Chrysostom noted, «The devil fears fasting, prayer, humility, and good works.»

Conversation 9. «My Son, Give Me Your Heart» (Prov. 23:26): How God Touches the Human Heart

Question:
Father, how does God touch a person’s heart? Could you share stories of conversion?

Answer:
It’s always the Holy Spirit’s work. In the 1990s, dozens of Protestants—including Adventist-Pentecostal pastors—converted to Orthodoxy in Lesosibirsk. One is now an archpriest in Kazakhstan; others became monastics.

Divine Appointments

• A Suicidal Woman: In the 1980s, I felt an urgent nudge to visit a woman 40 km away. Finding her apartment, she gasped: «Father!» She’d been on her balcony, ready to jump.
• A Korean Teacher: Passing an art school, I knew a teacher there needed immediate baptism. She was baptized the next day and later taught at an Orthodox gymnasium.

Mission in Siberia
In 1984, my wife and I secretly celebrated Liturgy in Norilsk—a closed Soviet zone. When authorities discovered us, they revoked our permits and opened a criminal case.

From 1989, I ministered in prisons. One inmate scoffed: «Let’s hear what this priest lies about.» He later built a chapel in prison and, after release, seven churches. He learned his great-grandfather was a canonized martyr—«Now I know why I build churches!»

We also taught Bible classes in schools and universities. By 1994, we’d founded a gymnasium in Yeniseysk.

My Own Conversion
Raised in a devout Mennonite family, I encountered Orthodoxy through two men:

• Ignaty Lapkin: A bearded ascetic who knew Scripture deeply. He shattered my Protestant interpretations (e.g., the Ten Virgins parable) by introducing me to the Church Fathers.
• Alexander Pivovarov: My spiritual father, who guided me to Baptism after months of anguished prayer.

Finding patristic writings in a university’s «restricted» section (hidden from Soviet eyes), I spent a month devouring Chrysostom, Tertullian, and Cyprian. Their depth eclipsed all other theology.

Standing by the Tom River, I cried: «Lord, I don’t care how—save my soul!» Seeing a water tower, I echoed the Ethiopian eunuch: «What prevents me from being baptized?» (Acts 8:36).

Conclusion
No barrier—nationality, education, or prison walls—can block God’s call when a heart opens. As Proverbs 23:26 urges: «Give Me your heart.»

Conversation 10. «I Am the Light of the World» (John 8:12): On Union with Christ

Question:
Father Gennady, we’ve discussed many aspects of Baptism…

Answer:
…But you haven’t asked about the main thing: what should those preparing for this Sacrament remember?

Question:
What, then?

Answer:
That they are preparing to become Christians—to be united with Christ.

Strangely, in modern Russia, the word «Christian» is nearly forgotten. At best, people say «Orthodox,» or simply «baptized.» Christ Himself is rarely mentioned. Yet Baptism is precisely union with Christ. Imagine a bride obsessing over her wedding dress, the banquet menu, and the guest list—but never giving a thought to the groom! Any «baptism» that isn’t union with Christ is no baptism at all. You can immerse someone in water at the beach—that doesn’t make it a Sacrament! «For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ» (Gal. 3:27).

This is why the most important conversation shouldn’t begin with Baptism itself. Many early Church Fathers advised against starting with talk of Baptism or Communion. First, witness about Jesus Christ. If this pierces a person’s heart, they’ll ask: «What must I do to be saved?» (Acts 16:30). Only then should we echo Peter: «Repent and be baptized… for the forgiveness of sins» (Acts 2:38).

The Forgotten Core: Repentance
Ask any priest: If someone comes to Confession without sincere repentance, without renouncing sin, can they be absolved—even if the priest reads the prayer? The answer is always no.

The Creed declares: «I confess one Baptism for the forgiveness of sins.» But if there’s no forgiveness, was there really a Baptism? The baptized are the forgiven. Yet how can there be mercy without repentance? Thus, baptizing the unrepentant is a grave violation. We mustn’t lecture about Baptism or coax people into it—we must call them to repentance.

At catechetical talks, I ask: «Do you plan to change anything after Baptism?» Many reply: «Yes… maybe start living differently…» But usually, this means nothing. People want God’s protection—yet never consider abandoning their sins. But this is the very essence of Baptism!

When Baptism Becomes Sorcery
In the 11th century, Patriarch Luke of Constantinople discovered that many Turkish Muslims had been «baptized» as children. Why? Village witch-doctors found curses «worked better» on the baptized, so they sent parents to baptize babies—who remained Muslims. The Patriarch declared these baptisms invalid and ordered them redone. How could it be a Sacrament when its purpose was to align with dark forces?

In the 1980s, Russians rushed to baptize because «grandmothers won’t heal the unbaptized.» Can we call this Baptism? Is it just holy water and chrism? Before God, these people remain unbaptized—not because they rejected Christ, but because they never renounced Satan or confessed the Creed. They sought magic, not salvation.

Baptism Is Repentance
Hebrews 6:4–6 warns of those who fall away after tasting «the heavenly gift.» St. John Chrysostom clarifies: the «repentance» here refers to Baptism—for while repentance can be repeated, Baptism cannot.

In apostolic times, Baptism was often called «repentance.» Today, even some priests get this backward: «First be baptized, then repent!» That’s putting the cart before the horse. Baptism is for the forgiveness of sins (Acts 2:38). To enter the Kingdom, we must kneel—humbled, repentant, and clothed in Christ. «Many will seek to enter and will not be able» (Luke 13:24).

The Hard Truth Before the Good News
Salvation comes only by God’s grace—human effort alone is futile. Someone once said: «If the apostles brought Good News, we must first bring Bad News.» People must see their dire state before they’ll seek the Gospel.

When I speak to secular audiences about the Sermon on the Mount, it often falls flat. But the Ten Commandments? They strike a nerve. Paradoxically, after 2,000 years, we must return to the Law. A person must recognize their sin—otherwise, Christ remains just a «wise teacher,» not a Savior. Only those who see themselves in hell truly need Him.

Yet we keep baptizing and communing the unrepentant—turning Baptism into a seal of sin rather than its remission. When sin becomes «normal,» we must refuse to baptize or commune. Only when sin becomes unbearable will they seek the way out—and «the way out is Christ.» But the path to Him is repentance: «Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand» (Mt 3:2).

The Fruit of Repentance
Priests are urged to hear confessions before Baptism—but the real work belongs to the catechumen. They must «bear fruit worthy of repentance» (Mt 3:8), as John the Baptist demanded.

This repentance overturns lives. Those who «put on Christ» (Gal. 3:27) often find their social circles reshaped. Old friends drift away; new ones emerge. Through Baptism—repentance, forgiveness, and union with Christ—they begin to live in the Church.

Footnotes:

• Arianism: A 4th–6th century heresy denying Christ’s divinity, condemned at the First Ecumenical Council (325 AD).
• Nestorianism: A heresy separating Christ’s divine and human natures, condemned at the Third Ecumenical Council (431 AD).
• Stundism: A 19th-century Russian Protestant movement emphasizing Bible study.
• Amalekites: An ancient tribe symbolizing unrepentant sin (Ex. 17:8–16).
• Mennonites: A Protestant denomination founded by Menno Simons (1496–1561).

Life Before and After Baptism: 10 Conversations with Archpriest Gennady Fast (Moscow: Nikeya, 2014).