This is a transcription of the sermon given by Archbishop Alexei, Bishop of Sitka and the Diocese of Alaska at the primatial Divine Liturgy for Saint Olga’s glorification on June 20th, 2025 at St. Nicholas Orthodox Church, in Kwethluk, Alaska.
“Today, the Holy Church in Alaska joins the choirs of heaven, glorifying our beloved matushka. Yes, today heaven rejoices; today the earth listens. The land does not shout, but it listens. For the stillness deeper than words, it listens. The tundra listens. The rivers pause. Even the summer sky grows still. A saint has appeared.
Not from a distant land. Not from a forgotten time, but from right here and right now in Kwethluk. From the heart of our land, from the soul of our people, Saint Olga stands revealed.
The world praises loud greatness, but heaven treasures quiet, soft holiness. Saint Olga claimed no titles, sought no fame. Yet her compassion became her crown, her humble prayer her strength. And now the church proclaims what many already knew in their heart: Our matushka from Kwethluk was a saint. Our Saint Olga…she lived quietly. But her life still speaks. And what does it say? It says that holiness is possible. That God is near and that even in sorrow, even in silence, you too can become a light of this world.
Her life was not separate from ours: she bore children, she sewed their clothes, she cooked for them, she prayed for them, she hurt with them, and she hoped for them. But she lived with a different heart. A heart that listened. A heart that gave. A heart that never gave up. A heart that was full of Christ. And this was what made her holy. Not the visions, not the miracles, but mercy, patience, prayer.
And then the miracles came. And then the visions of mercy came. They came to others because of that patient, loving heart.
She was the one who stayed up late, sewing her children’s winter clothes when no one saw, the one who wiped tears with the edge of her sleeve, the one who said that it was okay even when her own heart was breaking. She made others feel safe, not because she had no pain, but because she held onto Christ in her pain. And through her, others felt her strength as well.
She did not know the scriptures as a scholar, but she knew them deeply in her heart. She listened in church, in prayer, in humility. And by listening and by doing, she became a living gospel. The hymns of the church shaped her thoughts. The feast days taught her to rejoice. The fasts taught her to struggle. The icons taught her reverence. The Jesus Prayer became her friend. She drank from the same well offered to each of us: the Divine Liturgy, the holy Mysteries, the life of the Church. She drank deeply, she drank humbly, she drank faithfully, making her home into an altar, her prayer into a quiet flame before the holy icon.
Beloved in Christ, this is where we must begin if we want to follow her: We need not change everything all at once, but we must begin today. We must say our prayers. We must fast, not only from food, but from anger, from judgment, from laziness. We must make our homes a little bit more like hers: places of warmth, of prayer, and of quiet mercy.
Saint Olga fulfilled the words of Saint Innocent, who said, “To deny oneself means to give up one’s bad habits, to root out of the heart all that binds us to the world.” So we ask ourselves, what habits tie us down? What complaints have become normal in your hearts? Today, right now, for her sake, lay them down. Your anger: let it go. Your bitterness: release it. Whisper softly…and feel that Christ is near.
Saint Olga lived the words of Saint Herman: “From this day, from this hour, from this minute let us love God above all and do his holy will”. Not tomorrow; tomorrow is too late. Not when life becomes easy; it rarely does. Today is all we have. Live Christ now, as Saint Olga did: every day. In pain, she loved. In need, she gave. In silence, she prayed. In hiddenness, she remained faithful.
This is the path forward: Not tomorrow, but today. Not sometime, but now. Let’s say yes to the path she walked. Let’s say it as she would say it: Yes, to the Holy Liturgy. Yes, to the Prayer of the Heart. Yes, to quiet acts of mercy. Yes, to the struggle to repent. Yes, to the Orthodox life of humility, of forgiveness, and of active love. Just as she did, from this day, from this hour, from this very moment.
Saint Olga was fully Russian Orthodox and fully Yupik. She prayed with her people’s breath. She walked with their steps, she wept with their pain. She deeply respected her elders, listening humbly, and then becoming an elder herself, in quiet faith and gentle strength. Saint Olga embodied the Yupik truth that a real person is one who stands firm even in silence. Quiet actions speak louder than words. In her, nothing was lost. Everything was offered, and in Christ, everything was made holy. In her, Orthodox Christianity did not silence Yupik traditions; it sang through them, transfigured and holy. She lived the Church’s life with a Yupik soul: praying with the rhythm of the seasons, showing mercy with the strength of the Tundra, clothing the suffering with the tenderness of a mother.
This is the legacy she offers us: not that we must leave behind who we are, but that who we are can become holy. The Orthodox faith, when lived deeply, does not ask us to become someone else. It calls us to become who we truly are in Christ.
She knew sorrows: she buried children, she witnessed suffering she could not mend, she waited for help that never came. But through it all, she did not grow bitter. She became a flame that gave warmth to others even as her own soul was a chill of sorrow.
She shows that the Orthodox faith is not only for priests, not only for bishops, but it is also for mothers and for grandmothers, for hunters, for fishermen, for you and for me. Her life tells us you do not need to be famous to be holy. You need to be faithful. You need to be kind. You need to pray and keep praying, even when your heart is tired.
Saint Olga’s fire was not bright and blazing as the world loves to see. It was quiet, it was hidden, but it never went out. It warmed those who were cold. It soothed those who were hurting. And now that light has become a beacon for all of Alaska and beyond.
Today, she stands before the throne of Christ, her hands lifted in prayer, not for herself but for her people: for mothers and children, for those burdened by hidden pain, for all who feel forgotten.
She remembers us. And she calls us to remember her not only with words but with our deeds.
If she could speak to us now, she wouldn’t use many words. Maybe she’d whisper gently, “Mothers, hold your children tighter. Fathers, guard your families with more courage. Elders, speak the truth more clearly. Remind your people more often about what is right. Young ones, listen carefully: avoid what brings ruin. Alcohol will deceive you. Faithlessness will empty you, and carelessness can endanger you. Trust in Christ, and you will find peace.”
With that holy wisdom, we would all feel warm and safe like a child in a mother’s arms.
Faithful from the Kuskokwim, from the Yukon; pilgrims from a far-off land, I have one final word:
Do not let the day fade like a sunset behind a river. Let it burn within you quietly like the lamp that never goes out. Let it be the beginning of something truly miraculous in your life. Because you were here when the Church declared what heaven already knew: that Matushka Olga is among the saints. Go home and pray as she prayed. Hold your child like she held hers. Forgive as she forgave. Whisper “Lord, have mercy” continually, softly, deeply in your hearts. Let your light shine like a vigil lantern, steady in faith, humble in love, and unwavering in prayer. Let Saint Olga’s glorification ignite a quiet revolution within you, transforming your hearts, renewing your families, sanctifying others.
Let’s pray to her:
O Saint Olga, our gentle mother and healer of sorrow, protectress of the land, joy of the humble of heart: remember thy children. Stand before Christ unashamed and plead for us, and may thy hidden flame now burn brightly in us, a light on our path, a warmth in our sorrow, a quiet strength in our weakness, leading us to Christ to find joy in ours.
Dear mother, we’re still learning, still trying. We fall, yet we rise. We forget, yet we belong to Christ. We are weak, yet through thy prayers, strength is given. Teach us to love like thee with quiet mercy. Teach us to live as thou didst live, with faithfulness in all things. Teach us to pray like thee, not loudly, but from the heart. Help us to walk like thee, with courage in sorrow, and hope in Christ. For with thy prayers, all things are possible.
And so with grateful hearts we cry, “Through the prayers of our newly glorified mother, the righteous Olga Matushka of all Alaska, may Christ our God have mercy on us and save us, for he is good and loves mankind. Amen!”