THEY'VE BURNED THEIR BRIDGES

On the collapse of a carefully cultivated alliance — and the wreckage left behind

There is a particular kind of poetic justice that arrives not with fanfare, but quietly — in the form of a Monday morning visit.

Bishop Irinej is coming to New Marcha Monastery on Monday.

Mother Paraskeva should not expect flowers.

THE ONES THEY LEFT BEHIND

Before we discuss the falling out, let us speak of those who were discarded along the way — because the story of this alliance cannot be told without the people it destroyed.

Monahinja Anastasija came to New Marcha Monastery in the early 1990s. She gave the monastery decades of her life — decades of prayer, service, and devotion. She is of Greek origin, and she devoted herself entirely to this community and its mission.

When important visitors were expected, she was locked away by mother Paraskeva.. When she fell ill and went for surgery, Mother Paraskeva did not pray for her recovery. Sources close to the monastery tell us that the Abbess openly expressed hope that sister Anastasija would not return.

She did not return — not because she did not recover, but because she was no longer welcome in the place she had called home for three decades.

Today, sister Anastasija lives with her son.

A woman who gave thirty years to a monastery — discarded when she was no longer convenient. In her years. Far from the life she chose and the community she served.

We will not forget her name.

Monah Sava will be familiar to our regular readers.

He is the monk who, on November 18, 2025, accompanied former board president Dragan Knežević into St. Sava Cathedral — on Bishop Irinej's orders — and removed the antimins from the church. He lied to Parma Police about what had been taken, initially claiming they had only removed boxes of candle wax. Only after repeated police questioning did he admit the truth. Our full coverage of that incident is available on this blog.

He was subsequently removed from New Marcha Monastery under accusations that, to put it charitably, do not withstand scrutiny. The official story involved allegations of improper conduct — rifling through the Abbess's luggage, we are told.

We know what actually happened. We know why Monah Sava became inconvenient. We know what he was asked to do, and what he refused to do. Out of respect for the safety of those still involved in these matters, we will not publish those details at this time.

What we will say is this: the accusations were false. The removal was retaliatory.

Monah Sava has since transferred to another jurisdiction. He is now with the Greeks.

Given everything we know — perhaps the wisest decision he ever made.

Slobodan Pavlović is a man whose father is buried on the grounds of New Marcha Monastery. For years he maintained the cemetery where his father rests — laying a road and bringing materials to the property.

One day, Mother Paraskeva ran across the grounds and ordered him to leave immediately, threatening to call the police. The police were called. They did not arrive for forty minutes. By which time, it was Mr. Pavlović himself who found it necessary to contact them.

Shortly after, on April 28, 2026, he received a letter. DAB No. 145. Signed by Bishop Irinej himself. Copied to Mother Paraskeva.

The letter informed Mr. Pavlović that a road had been laid on monastery property "without knowledge or approval." It demanded the removal of all construction materials within 21 days. It cited Articles of Incorporation. It invoked 501(c)3 protections. It threatened legal consequences.

It did not mention, even in passing, that this man had maintained their cemetery for years.

Bishop Irinej signed it. Mother Paraskeva received the copy. Together. As always.

THE FALLING OUT

And now — just months later — the instrument has broken.

Sources indicate that Mother Paraskeva has been experiencing significant financial difficulties. The Diocese, it is said, has been covering approximately $2,000 in monthly expenses for the food, hygiene, transportation, and basic costs.

That support, sources tell us, has been disrupted.

Mother Paraskeva, we are told, was so distressed that she wrote to the Bishop personally — asking him to return to Serbia. She waited for a response. She is still waiting. Welcome to the club, Mother Paraskeva. It is a large club. It includes grieving widows, locked-out parishioners, canonical appeals, and formal legal complaints. The Bishop does not discriminate — he ignores everyone equally.

Mother Paraskeva has reportedly made her displeasure known — including, we are told, the Church Hierarchies in Belgrade.

And so Bishop Irinej is coming to New Marcha Monastery on Monday.

The man who signed the letter expelling Slobodan Pavlović — with her blessing.

The man whose Diocese drove out Monahinja Anastasija — under her watch.

The man whose orders put Monah Sava in that cathedral on November 18.

He is coming on Monday.

And Mother Paraskeva — who locked away a nun, drove out a monk, ran across a courtyard ordering a man away from his father's grave, and cooperated faithfully in the Bishop's operations for months — is no longer in his good graces.

Not because she had a change of heart.

Not because she suddenly developed a conscience.

Not because she looked at Monahinja Anastasija living with her son and felt shame.

But because the money stopped.

They've burned their bridges — with the faithful, with the monks, with the families of the buried, with the men who served them.

And now, at last, with each other.

Not from virtue. Not from justice. Not from any moral awakening. From money. As usual.

We have watched this Diocese operate long enough to know that loyalty here has always had a price tag. When the price tag disappears — so does the loyalty.

Monah Sava found his way to the Greeks.

Monahinja Anastasija found her way to her son's home.

Slobodan Pavlović found his way — and his dignity.

And on Monday, Bishop Irinej will find his way to New Marcha Monastery.

Some visits are pastoral.

Some are not.

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