This is Part 3 of the interview True Stories from Priest Alexander Torik by an Orthodox journalist and essayist Andrey Sigutin, originally published in Russian here.

In this final part of our interview, Father Alexander Torik shares the inspiration behind his book Dimon, reflects on the spiritual meaning of the tollhouses, and offers practical advice on finding a spiritual father. Through personal stories and theological reflections, he explores the challenges of living a meaningful Christian life in the modern world. Click here for Part 1 and Part 2.

Dimon the Trouble Maker

Andrey Sigutin (AS): How did you come up with the idea for the book Dimon?

Alexander Torik (AT): The plot itself is simple. There’s an ancient play, Orpheus and Eurydice, where the main character, Orpheus, descends into hell to find his beloved. That was the inspiration for Dimon.

The real-life inspiration for Dimon is one of my former altar boys. His personality is exactly like the character in the book. He’s also a redhead, also a computer addict, also a bit of a trouble maker, but at the same time, a genuinely good, soulful guy. I’ve known him for many years. You can’t imagine how much I’ve had to struggle with him.

When kids hit 14 or 15, they often go through a rough patch. With Dimon, it was just a disaster. He was raised by a single mom, and like many redheads, he’s full of energy. We had our hands full with him, that’s for sure. We took away his computer cables, hid his system unit—anything to break his computer addiction.

That was a period of intense ‘combat.’ But as he slowly grew up, I began to notice that despite all his ‘hooligan’ behavior, he was actually a good kid at heart—a pure soul, capable of real love and sacrifice. If a person, especially a man, isn’t capable of self-sacrifice—of giving himself for the sake of someone he loves—then he’s not really a man, not really a human being, and certainly not a Christian.

Young people today need to understand this: what separates a true man from a mere ‘boy’ is the ability to sacrifice himself for the one he loves. And I saw this quality in Dimon, and still do. We still keep in touch from time to time. He’s almost 25 now—a pretty grown-up ‘trouble maker’ by this point.

AS: So in your book, you cast him in the role of Orpheus?

AT: Yes, Dimon is a kind of modern ‘remake’ of the Orpheus and Eurydice story—a young man who goes to hell to rescue his beloved. Then, on top of that storyline, I added the theme of the tollhouses.

When I reached the part of the book where the main character has to descend into the underworld to save the soul of his beloved Marina, at that very moment, I happened to pick up a book by A.I. Osipov, The Afterlife of the Soul. There are no coincidences. Blaise Pascal once said, ‘Chance is the pseudonym that God uses when He wants to remain anonymous.’ I hadn’t even begun to think about what this ‘terminal’ to the next world would look like when, thanks to Osipov’s book, it suddenly became clear to me.

We’re used to the traditional description of the tollhouses as they appear in the Life of Blessed Theodora. But the images she uses are essentially literary symbols that reflect the worldview of her time, the cultural context in which she lived. To convey her experience and the terror she felt, she used the imagery available to her and her contemporaries. These images are, by our standards, archaic, reflecting the worldview and even the everyday life of people from that era.

Christ, when He walked the earth, spoke to His followers using the concepts they understood: fields, vineyards, shepherds, and sheep. Today, it’s easier to explain complex spiritual ideas using the things we’re familiar with—cars, computers, cell phones. These everyday objects provide the associations we need to grasp deeper spiritual truths.

If Theodora were describing her tollhouse experience today, she might say, ‘I was brought to the first tollhouse, and there sat a demon at a computer desk, showing me all my sins on the screen. Then my guardian angel swiped a bank card through a machine, and—beep!—the amount needed to cover those sins was deducted, and I passed through.’

A.I. Osipov, in his book, presents a fundamentally different model of the tollhouses—one not invented by him, but drawn directly from the writings of the Holy Fathers. He always supports his views with precise references to the patristic tradition.

In that book, there’s a long quote from St. Theophan the Recluse, who talks about the tollhouses. I can’t reproduce it word for word from memory, but the basic idea is this: St. Theophan suggests that the tollhouses may not be a literal courtroom where each sin is balanced against a good deed, as if you’re ‘paying off’ your debts. Instead, he proposes that demons may present the soul with something tempting—something it was attached to in life. If the soul clings to that temptation, thinking, ‘This is my paradise,’ then the demons will gain power over it, and the soul’s torment will begin.

I’m just paraphrasing the general idea from memory, but you can find the full quote in Osipov’s book. It was this concept that inspired the image of the ‘terminal’ in Dimon.

Finding a Spiritual Father

AS: In your books, you also touch on the themes of spiritual guidance and obedience. I’ve noticed that your views on this topic seem to differ a bit from those of Professor A.I. Osipov.

AT: I have great respect for Professor A.I. Osipov, even though we disagree on some points, including the nature of obedience and spiritual guidance.

Osipov primarily draws on the spiritual teachings of St. Ignatius (Brianchaninov). But this isn’t necessarily the fullest basis for understanding obedience. St. Ignatius wrote that the kind of obedience described in the writings of the Holy Fathers had become impossible in his own time. Osipov, building on this idea, argues that it’s even more impossible in our own day.

However, if you look at the contemporary life of the Church, not just in Russia but throughout the entire Orthodox world, you’ll see a different picture. Many sects, including some that exist within the Orthodox Church, have developed a strict model of obedience that essentially says, ‘Obedience is greater than fasting and prayer.’ The idea is that you must obey your ‘elder’ without question, never deviating from his commands. One step to the left or right, and you’re on your way to hell. This is one extreme. In fact, such cult-like obedience has been a problem throughout Church history, not just in modern times.

On the other hand, it’s equally absurd to say that true obedience is now completely impossible because there are no longer any Elders to obey. If you catch a cold, do you immediately seek out a world-renowned medical professor for treatment, or do you just go to your local family doctor? Most of us just go to our regular doctor. If, however, it turns out that you have a rare and complicated illness, then your local doctor will refer you to a specialist. It’s the same in the spiritual life.

Most of the ‘spiritual colds’ people bring to their priests can be diagnosed and treated at the parish level, by a sensible, responsible, and conscientious pastor. You don’t need a famous Elder to help you with everyday spiritual struggles.

In fact, the idea of an ‘Elder’ as a kind of charismatic figure with supernatural gifts of prophecy and miracle-working is not necessary for most Christians. There are ordinary parish priests—spiritual fathers—who do the hard, thankless work of sorting through other people’s problems and offering practical, reasonable advice. Such priests exist in large numbers, and we should make use of this resource.

AS: Besides, the obedience of monastics and laypeople are two different things.

AT: Of course. We can’t compare the obedience of monastics with that of laypeople. In fact, our modern monasteries—especially the women’s monasteries—are a whole separate and often painful topic. I touched on this a bit in the third Flavian book and in Selaphiela. But for now, let’s focus on laypeople.

A layperson comes to a priest and says, ‘Father, I have a problem with my husband, my son, my daughter-in-law, my coworker, etc.’ The priest replies, ‘Start living a Christian life yourself—confess regularly, receive Communion frequently, read these prayers, read the Gospels.’ The person responds, ‘Father, give me a blessing!’ – ‘I bless you!’

Then the person goes away and either doesn’t do what they were advised, or does the exact opposite. They come back and say, ‘Father, my problem hasn’t gone away. In fact, it’s gotten worse.’ The priest asks, ‘Did you do what I told you to do?’ – ‘No, Father, I didn’t. But the problem is still there…’

So what is this? Obedience or disobedience? How can we even use the word ‘obedience’ in this situation?

It’s like going to the doctor. He diagnoses your illness, writes you a prescription, and says, ‘Take this, and in a week you’ll be better.’ You leave his office, toss the prescription in the trash, and do nothing. A week later, you come back and say, ‘Doctor, I feel even worse!’

AS: So what should a spiritual father be like?

AT: It’s best to find a spiritual father who is sensible and discerning, at least in the basic, common-sense way. I’m not talking about the spiritual gift of discernment, which is one of the highest spiritual gifts, like the ability to heal the sick or work miracles. Most of us are still far too carnal and unspiritual for that.

For the average layperson, a good spiritual father is simply a conscientious, married priest who has real-life experience with family relationships and the Christian upbringing of children. This kind of practical experience is incredibly valuable for most parishioners. If a priest is also pious, deeply prayerful, and striving to lead an active spiritual life, then he becomes a kind of ‘spiritual leader’ to whom people naturally gravitate in their search for salvation. But finding such a spiritual father isn’t always easy.

It’s a big topic and a real challenge—the whole question of spiritual guidance and obedience in today’s Church. But the Lord said in the Gospel, ‘Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you’ (Matthew 7:8). So, if you’re looking for a spiritual father, don’t do it with mixed motives—like wanting to be seen as a ‘proper’ Orthodox Christian while still living a self-indulgent life, all ‘under a blessing.’

Don’t be like those people who say, ‘I’ll go to this priest because I know he’ll bless me to eat meat during the fast.’ If you seek out a spiritual father with that kind of attitude, you’ll likely find one who will lead you straight to the abyss.

A true spiritual father is one through whom the Lord Himself will guide you to salvation and who will never indulge your passions. If you seek such a guide, start with a sincere desire and, of course, fervent prayer: ‘Lord, grant me a spiritual father to whom I can entrust my soul for salvation and from whom I can receive true spiritual guidance.’

And then: ‘Everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks, it will be opened.’ (Matthew 7:8)

Thank you for joining us for this candid and inspiring conversation with Father Alexander Torik. We hope you’ve enjoyed this deep dive into the real-life stories, spiritual insights, and pastoral wisdom that shape his writing. If you’ve found these reflections meaningful, consider sharing this interview with others, or leave a comment below to share your thoughts.