Great Lenten Vespers at St. Sava Cathedral 2026 – It Would Be Funny If It Weren’t So Sad
- Special Correspodent
- Mar 30
- 3 min read
Yesterday, Great Lenten Vespers were held at our Cathedral. The photos from this year and last year speak for themselves — and photos, unlike some people, don’t lie.
This year (2026), very few people were inside the church. The enormous Cathedral felt empty — the chairs gaped vacant, and even the echo sounded lonely. Meanwhile, the majority of parishioners were outside, in front of the church — faithful, patient, and cold — just as they have been for the past 20+ weeks.
A particularly warm and moving moment came when Father Mile from St. Sava Church on Wallings Rd walked out to where we were standing. No police escort. No megaphone. No camera crew. Just a priest and open arms. He sincerely invited us inside, saying that the church belongs to everyone and that he recognized our pain. That is what true pastoral care looks like — quite unlike the other kind, which arrives with eight police cars. This is what we needed. God bless him!
Unfortunately, the peaceful and dignified conduct of the majority outside did not prevent the usual scenes. Stefan Nikolić was once again very active — running around like an amateur paparazzo on his very first assignment, filming our cars parked in front of Father Dragoslav’s home, diligently collecting material for police complaints. Nobody crossed the street. Nobody caused any disturbance. Material for a complaint — zero. But that didn’t stop him.
“Do two people stand inside the church spying on those outside?” “Yes!” “Do they peer through the glass in the door?” “Yes!” “Congratulations — it’s Katarina Derek and Stanka Nikolić/Dragana Knežević!” — They didn’t even know they were playing Guess Who? — but we identified them on the very first try.
LAST YEAR – 2025
Last year, at Great Lenten Vespers, the scene was completely different — as if it were another city, another church, another world entirely. The Cathedral was full, people were praying inside, and after the service a communal dinner was held. Priests, children, and families gathered at the table. Young volunteers in blue aprons were full of smiles and energy. Nobody was peeking through the door.
AND WHAT WERE THEY DOING LAST NIGHT?
Interestingly, the official Instagram page of St. Sava Cathedral also posted a photo from their dinner. Judge for yourselves.
One year has made an enormous difference. Last year — a full church, togetherness, children’s laughter. This year — empty chairs inside, parishioners standing in the cold outside, and instead of a welcome — cameras, shouting, and peering through glass. Progress, apparently.
And yet, despite everything, one priest stepped outside and said: “You are all welcome.” Five words. No cameras, no police, no victimization of water bottles. Just five words that meant everything. That gesture showed us that love and pastoral care have not disappeared — they are simply, for the moment, at the wrong address.
We continue to pray, we continue to love our church, and we wait for the day when we will all stand inside together again — without cameras, without megaphones, and without a game of Guess Who? at the door.
We thank Father Mile for the warmth and humanity he showed us. His words and open arms remain in our hearts. Priests like him exist — and that gives us hope.
Dear Millie, all those years of faith, two churches built by our hands and heart — no padlock can erase that. Father Mile reminded us that the true church lives in people like you. We carry your prayers with us every Sunday. God bless you. 🙏
God Bless Father Mile 🙏❤️. Once again after all these years a divide my sisters wedding opened the doors of your church that were padlocked. Alexandra Ninkovic.
We built a second St Sava And now again? My heart aches. I’m 72 and in poor health praying every day and night.