Suzana Monastery Retreat I

 

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Part A: How the little city hermit became a bird, a fountain, a tree and a pearl!

 

Deep peace of Christ, silence, hesychia, these are the words that come to my mind when I remember Suzana monastery and my three-day retreat there this summer. Also, self-emptying, kenosis. But above all, silence!

 

Only through poetry can such silence be conveyed, so I will paraphrase a favourite poet of mine, Rumi, to convey to you what I experienced here.

 

I had begged the Wise One to tell me
 the secret of my existence, my calling in this world.
 Gently, gently, He whispered at Suzana monastery “Be quiet,
the secret cannot be spoken,
 It is wrapped in silence.”

 

I ground myself, strip myself down, to this overpowering Silence. I feel spiraling into a void of silence where a hundred voices thundered messages I longed to hear.

 

At its unfathomable bottom I encounter a vast fullness, the Spark of LIFE and LOVE, a secret passage to the WAY which wandering talk blocks, a dimension where HE was waiting for me, for my soul to shake.

 

I was carrying so much baggage while seeking the signs of the Way.

 

But at Suzana* monastery, I am ‘forced’ to stop, open up, surrender to this thundering silence, be invaded by ‘It’, and 
stay there until I Saw, until I looked at this blinding Light 
with infinite eyes.

 

This overpowering Silence kidnaps me to the core of Life. There is a sacredness in it. Silence is indeed the language of God, and all else is poor translation.

 

This is exactly what I experience when I am trying to write a poem, how I feel especially when I finish a poem. A great silence overcomes me and I wonder why I ever thought to use language.

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Silence is indeed the sea, and speech is like the river. The sea is seeking you: don’t seek or walk into the river. Don’t turn your head away from the signs offered by the sea. Listen to the ocean.

 

The sound of Waters and the sound of Silence is a motif in Suzana monastery. At least for me. Everywhere the sound of waters reaches you, so overwhelmingly that I often feel the need to stay in my ‘cell’ and not even venture out.

 

Just listening to that sound was so overwhelming! The very moment I set my foot on this monastery, the sound of Living waters immobilized me, an ocean wave, a mighty river in flood, a cascading waterfall, a fountain of benediction, a Life- Giving spring, welling up to Eternity.

 

Isaiah 43:19

19 Behold, I will do a new thing,
Now it shall spring forth;
Shall you not know it?
I will even make a road in the wilderness
And rivers in the desert.

 

John 7:38

38 He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.”

 

 

 

Kenosis is also another state I suffered there:

“And they shall build the old wastes,

they shall raise up the former desolations,

and they shall repair the waste cities,

the desolations of many generations.” (Isaiah 61:4)

 

I needed so desperately such ‘Decluttering’ in my life, a Relentless Focus, a Subtraction, Becoming ‘poor’, an Unburdening, a Curtail, a Reduction and Emptying, Until my rebellious bones sore.

 

 

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This silence, this moment, every moment, this silence brought all what I needed. I sat quietly, and listened for a voice which told me ‘Be more silent.’ ‘Die’ and be quiet. Maybe quietness is the surest sign that you’ve ‘died’. My old life was such a frantic running from silence. Suzana monastery moved me, even for a little, outside the tangle of fear-thinking.

 

In the end, I became a pearl!

 

“And since I have wandered in thee, pearl,

I will gather up my mind

And by having contemplated thee,

Would become like thee,

In that thou art all gathered up into thyself;

And as thou in all times art one,

One let me become by thee!” (St Ephraim, The Pearl)

 

This very old, poor, secluded, fairy-tale monastery, surrounded by forests, mountains and springs, and steeped in holiness, is most certainly God’s special Providence for my tired, exhausted self.

 

I feels like coiling in a virginal womb, unwinding time, beholding

 

“The memory of the glory that I had when I was entirely with You and entirely in You, before time and temporal illusions.

 

When I, too, was a harmonious trinity in holy unity, just as You are from eternity to eternity.

 

When the soul within me was also in friendship with consciousness and life.

 

When my soul also was a virginal womb, and my consciousness was wisdom in virginity, and my life was spiritual power and holiness.

 

 

When I, too, was all light, and when there was no darkness within me.

 

When I, too, was bliss and peace, and when there were no torments of imbalance within me.

 

When I also knew You, even as You know me, and when I was not mingled with darkness.

 

When I, too, had no boundaries, no neighbors, no partitions between “me” and “you.” (St. Nikolai Velimirovich, Memories – Prayers By the Lake XXX)

 

Even the very fact that I cannot not speak Romanian, just barely understand it, is an added blessing, an extra ‘precaution’, a ‘just in case’ … Speaking all too often impoverishes, drenches us. As St. Seraphim of Sarov wisely urges us, “Keep away from the spilling of speech”.

 

Hesychia, Deep peace of Christ wrapped me in green leaves like a tree;

I breathed like a tree in the quiet light!

 

* Suzana Monastery is a Romanian monastery about 5.5 to 6 hours away from Rasca monastery in Bucovine, North Moldavia, where Fr. Seraphim Aldea was tonsured as a monk in 2005. After my retreat here I have a slightly better, more ‘intimate’ understanding of ‘Romanian’ Orthodoxy and Fr. Seraphim’s calling to found the first Orthodox monastery, Mull monastery, in the Hebrides in over a millennium. In a sense only a Romanian hieromonk would be really equipped, spiritually, emotionally, as well as intellectually, to undertake such a huge task! Glory to God for everything!

 

 

 

 

 

Continue to Part II

St. Paisios the Athonite

Icons, Photographs and Video on his feast day

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I may be on a pilgrimage in Romanian monasteries, but St Paisios’ the Athonite, my patron Saint‘s, presence is strongly felt all over Romania. Plenty of icons of his and books with his services and spiritual counsels in all monasteries and churches I have been so far! I truly regret having to leave this week of all weeks Greece, but thanks be to God, while this was going on inside Souroti monastery church on July 12, and this outside the church, near his tomb

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Much longer queues than in 2013 … every year longer! The Lord is glorified in His saints!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the faithful all over in Romania were holding Vigils and praying Akathists and Supplication canons, asking for his prayers.

Wherever I go, the moment Romanians realise that I am Greek and my home town is near Souroti, they start asking for my telephone number and email, so that I can make arrangements and help them go and venerate his tomb.

 

Just in case you missed it, this is a beautiful documentary (in Russian with English subtitles) about the life of St. Paisios the Athonite and his years spent on Mount Sinai in Egypt.

And another one:

And yet another one by the Patriarchate of Moscow (a film documentary of six episodes with total duration of 5 hours on the holy life and work of Saint Paisius of Mount Athos):

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage —Suzana Monastery

My next stop:  Suzana Monastery. The Suzana Orthodoxe Convent, hidden in a forest of beeches on the road of Valeni-Cheia gladdens the hearts of those who visit by the tranquillity that reigns here. This monastery now has 62 nuns who share in community prayer and work. I am invited to stay 3 days here. Lets see now how I can survive in a place where no one speaks English and I understand (little) their native language but cannot speak it!

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The Suzana Monastery of nuns took refuge along the Teleajenului stream, some 40 km from Valenii de Munte, at the highest point of the foot of Bobul Mare. The waters of the Teleajenul, Stanca and Iepurasul come together at this monastery in the form of a cross and run off together as a single stream. From above, the settlement looks like a tiny village, a cluster of houses stuck together, as if they were afraid of flying away in a storm. The houses are attractive and well kept.

 

A few stories with some elderly nuns

AT THE MONASTERY, EVERYTHING HAS A PURPOSE…”Leave us be, says an elderly nun, as we have no time for posing in magazines. We have a lot of work.” She then disappears into the abbey to announce the arrival of some…guests. Out comes the Mother Superior …”Please, do come into the living room and have a syrup drink.” A homemade syrup made of caramelized sugar is brought in with glasses of water.

“Our monastery is not very well-off,” says the Mother Superior. “We work hard, there are few young nuns and quite a number of very old nuns who need our constant care like young children …”

Someone knocks on the door. A nun curtseys and kisses Mother Superior’s hand. Snatches of words, choked by timidity: “Mother Superior…the bell…blessed.”

 

The girls come to the monastery from places you cannot even imagine, from all over the country. They come from Sighetul Marmatiei, from Moldova. But they do not all stay here, some cannot get used to life in a monastery. First they must learn about order. The monastery has its own rules, its own system, and none can do as she pleases. And then these girls have to be taught some skill, to be useful, and they learn to weave carpets”.

HOW LADY ARSICU SURVIVED THE STORM. Suzana Arsicu, the monastery’s founder, raised a church of beams. The wealthy woman was from Sacele, in Ardeal, and this was her way of thanking God for having saved her from a storm. She was the monastery’s first Mother Superior.

 

The church, whose Patron Saint was St. Nicholas (Dec 6), lasted one century and was replaced by another. At that point the church council decided to change its patron to the Mother of God whose anniversary is celebrated in summer, on the 15th of August, and the monastery can be more easily reached during that season than during the winter religious festival with the snows. On the eve of the dedication, however, the sky got covered with clouds, the streams overflowed from their beds and flooded the valleys. The torrent took everyone who came for the feast by surprise, washing away all their bags, their habits, their books and their holy paraphernalia. They all escaped unharmed, and instead of holding a dedication they held a mass, to thank God for having averted the danger. They then decided that they would not change the patron Saint for the church, and celebrate on December 6, the anniversary of St. Nicholas.

 

 

Today’s church was raised between 1880-1882, during the time of a Mother Superior named Natalia Perlea. She kept the same patron, and no one has ever thought again of changing him. The monastery has another tiny church, Paraclisul, built during the time of Mother Superior Tomaida Perlea.

THIS IS MY HOME. The story of a nun: “This cannot really be called a community life, as we have little work in the field where we might meet. It is more of a solitary life. Each nun receives a house for which she is responsible. Some have novices, and when these become nuns in their own right, they take over the house. There are two or three nuns to every house. There is enough space.

 

 

The monastery courtyard is wide open, but the buildings are stuck together in such ways that the space is compact, built to last. This house and that one over there are the settlement’s oldest, dating back to around 1860. That over there is a guesthouse. It does not have a lot of rooms. From time to time officials come here and then can be befittingly received. The nuns put people up in their homes. All of them rent out rooms. But if there were some sort of organized tourism it would be difficult to keep the visitors and the monastery’s daily routine apart. There would be people coming and going in the courtyard, in the church. If we had a guesthouse separate from the monastery, things would be different.

The green house is mine. This house in which I have received you is the abbey, as the inscription shows above the door, but the green one is mine.”

 

NOTHING IS POSSIBLE WITHOUT HARD WORK. “I came to the monastery in 1940. Now I am 79 years old. In 1990, I offered to step down. I told them: “Perhaps you want a younger nun.” But what would a younger nun do with such a burden on her shoulders? It is a great responsibility.

The nuns earn a little money from their icons and candles…The money does not go far, as everything is expensive these days. The church walls were painted, and look how they are peeling . A company from Bucharest did the job, but they did not scrape off the old paint.

Other than that, there are some hayfields that are in the care of the people. Half belongs to them and half to the monastery. We grow potatoes as nothing else grows around here because of the weather. It rains, it is chilly…And the fruit does not last long here because of the rain.” Two nuns put aside the forks with which they were gathering grass and begin talking. The man with the scythe watches them silently.

“We used to have seven cows, but now we have five. There is a lot of work, but everything requires toil. Now we bring everything we need to the monastery by car, but for a long time we even carted things on our backs.

The work would be impossible without the help of people of means, who make contributions.” These people of means paid some workers whom the Mother Superior met at a dinner at the Archbishop’s. “Now we have some craftsmen building paths, and only when this work is finished can we send for someone to cut the grass, which has grown very long.

PEOPLE WANT TO COME STAY WITH US. The oil painting in the church is the work of Master Petre Nicolau, an apprentice of Gheorghe Tattarescu. The monastery also owns a collection of icons painted on wood and glass, numerous old books and other religious objects. The icons are finished with gilded silver.
An 18-year-old nun leads a group of children around the man-made miracles. There is not enough light, and the nun who serves as guide and is wellgrounded in modern civilization explains that the neon bulb is 60 watt while tha starter is only 20. “They need to be the the same to light properly.”
The children have written their comments in the 48-page guest book at the entrance: “This monastery is truly special,” “I visited this beautiful monastery,” “I enjoyed this visit so much as I saw very old and special things”. Mother Superior Singlitichia Marin mentions, “We must get another guest book, a real one.
For the time being the monastery has no priest. There is a priest who comes to hold services, but he is not employed permanently. He is a young priest, too young. A priest who serves at a monastery of nuns should be older. One will eventually be hired, as the need becomes evident. This is another problem that requires resourcefulness.”
On major holidays we hold services from 7:30 p.m. to around midnight. People come from town, from Valeni, even from Ploiesti, to get married or to baptize their children. At first we were criticized, and were asked why we allow people from outside the parish to come here. I replied: “What should I do? Turn them away at the gates of the monastery? The church cannot do this. You do something to encourage them to come to you, so that they no longer want to come here.” After that no one said anything anymore.”
INSIGHT, Summer 2001

Part A

For more photographs, go here

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage — Mânăstirea Pissiota

Most hospitable next stop: Mânăstirea Pissiota!

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage Mânăstirea Pissiota Orthodox city hermit pilgrimage

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage Mânăstirea Pissiota Orthodox city hermit pilgrimage

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage Mânăstirea Pissiota Orthodox city hermit pilgrimage

The monastery of Pissiota, located in Poienarii Burchi, was built between 1928 and 1929 by Nicolae Pissiota (1860-1940), a great man of culture, and his wife, Zoe Pissiota (1868-1940), on the estate bought from the family of General Gheorghe Angelescu (1850-1923), an important name in the 1877 war.

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage Mânăstirea Pissiota Orthodox city hermit pilgrimage

The first record of the village of Poienarii Burchi dates back to 21st September 1594, on the former „Poeana” estate of Lady Stanca, the wife of Michael the Brave. The village was dedicated by Lady Stanca to the Simonopetra monastery of Mount Athos, in 1594. The original document is kept at the Archives of the State in Bucharest.

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage Mânăstirea Pissiota Orthodox city hermit pilgrimage

The engineer Nicolae Pissiota, of Macedonian origin, born in Greece and settled in Walachia, had a huge fortune that allowed him to build this place of worship. The church was designed by the architect Ioan Giurgea – a harmonious combination between Italian Renaissance style and the Byzantine elements that are specific to Romanian churches.

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage Mânăstirea Pissiota Orthodox city hermit pilgrimage

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage Mânăstirea Pissiota Orthodox city hermit pilgrimage

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage Mânăstirea Pissiota Orthodox city hermit pilgrimage

Famous names were called to decorate the church: Costin Petrescu (1877-1954), the one that painted the interior frescoes of the Romanian Athenaeum, or the Cathedral of Alba Iulia, and his apprentice, Gheorghe Eftimiu.

The portraits of the patrons and of the Patriarchs Miron Cristea and Justinian Marina were done by the painter Vasile Rudeanu (in 1956). The iconostasis is carved in rosewood and cherry wood, brought from Greece, creating a balance between sensitivity and detail, influenced by Italian art.

The furniture was carved of oak wood, with ethnic motifs, by the sculptor Anghel Dima, in 1928, the author of Mihai Eminescu’s sculpture in front of the Romanian Athenaeum. The floor is made of red Carrara marble; underneath the church lie the marble crypts where the patrons and their families are buried. Inside the church there are icons and silver icon lights, in Brancoveanu style, as well as triodyons, Pentecostarians and hymn books.

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage Mânăstirea Pissiota Orthodox city hermit pilgrimage miraculous icon

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage Mânăstirea Pissiota Orthodox city hermit pilgrimage

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage Mânăstirea Pissiota Orthodox city hermit pilgrimage

The defining religious element in the Holy Monastery of Pissiota is the Icon of the Holy Virgin with the Child – miracle-working icon. The icon is painted on oak wood, against a background of Byzantine brocade, signed by the famous painter Gheorghe Eftimiu, the apprentice of the great Costin Petrescu.

For two decades after the opening, between 1928 and 1948, the monastery was a monk monastery. In 1948, the Patriarch Justinian Marina transformed it into a monastery of nuns, and this is how it remained until 1962, when it was discontinued. In 1993, after 31 years in ruin, the monastery resumed its community life.

Currently, the monastery is inhabited by 23 nuns and a priest; prayer is in harmony with work, as there are tailoring workshops where priestly vestments and clothes are made, allowing people to add the little money they have for the restoration of the monastery.

Abbess Monahia Ioana Irina Calin

 

 

 

 

Romanian Monasteries Pilgrimage — Zamfira Monastery

A most spiritually intense summer so far! Full of such dramatic ups and downs! Personal tribulations and divine interventions, violent, ‘rough seas’ in the ‘world’ and hesychastic pilgrimages and retreats in monasteries!

This week I am entering the atmosphere of Romanian Orthodox Christianity and undertaking together with very special Romanian spiritual brothers and sisters a pilgrimage to various, notable monasteries to the south of Romania.

My first stop was the Monastery of Zamfira, famous for its ties with Greek Revolutionary history, and specifically Nicolae Mavrocordat, and for its amazing paintings by the skilful young Romanian painter Nicu Grigoresku.

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This monastic complex is located in the Teleajen Valley, halfway between Ploiesti and Valenii de Munte. It has two churches (monuments of art), a collection of religious art and the cells of the nuns.

 

The first church (named The Big Church) is located the large yard of the convent. It was founded by Metropolite Nifon and was built between 1855 and 1857 with the aim of transferring the monks from the “Rosioara” hermitage of Filipestii de Padure. The artistic significance of this church is based on its painting, because it is the first church entirely painted by the great Romanian painter, Nicolae Grigorescu, at the age of 18.

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This painting is considered to be unique since it the only one created in “fresco” by Grigorescu. The mural painting and the icons of the iconostasis were completed in an extremely short time, i. e., in less than 14 months.

This painting has undergone several restorations, the last and best one being done between 1986 and 1989 by the painter and restorer, Chiriac Ion. He carefully removed all the repainted portions, hence making the original painting visible once again. It is a remarkable restoration.

 

The collection of religious art containing objects dating from the 18th, 19th and 20th centuries belonged to the two churches or to the various donors: icons on wood or glass, books of worship, invaluable objects of worship, carved pieces embroideries, etc.

 

Frescos of the great Romanian painter, Nicolae Grigorescu.

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The chanting of the nuns was breathtaking, the kneeling during its long services surprisingly soothing, a balm to the wounded heart, and the Vespers and Matins services dedicated to the veneration of St. Paisios the Athonite, my patron Saint and spiritual grandfather, incredibly moving! What a surprise to find his Icon and seek his intercessions at the very heart of Romania! Even the strangeness of praying in a language you can barely follow was a special blessing, a long-sought-for emptying, a kenosis, allowing all this silence and deep peace of Christ ‘invade’ you!

Pilgrimage to Mikrokastro Mother of God Monastery

This post has been long due, since Mikrokastro Mother of God Monastery has been my refuge and retreat since 2014, ever since I discovered it, or better ever since our Holy Lady revealed herself to me there.  A most  holy place, a ‘thin’ place I keep returning, especially when badly in need of spiritual nourishment, in times of trials, adversity, tribulations and temptations. This is a place where the Mother of God comforts all her children, a place where its peace invades you and the fellowship of the nuns warms you.

 

 

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Part A: A brief history of the Monastery of the Mikrokastro Mother Of God

 

The Holy Monastery is dedicated to the Assumption of the Mother of God. According to historians, the main church of the monastery is estimated to have been founded 200-250 years ago. The iconography in the church was completed in 1797 (about 200 years ago), as is shown by the inscription that still exists on the west wall of the church.

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The history of this place started with a small chapel in the nearby village of Mikrokastro, but its propitious geographical position as a passing place on the journey from Kozani to Kastoria helped the site become a place of worship. This was mainly due to the presence of the Holy Icon of the Eleoussa Mother of God on the icon screen; it is not known when or under what historical and religious circumstances this Icons was found here.

 

 

The miracle-working power of the Icon contributed to the place quickly becoming the most important place of worship in Western Macedonia. According to the inscription mentioned above, the church’s frescoes were painted by iconographers from Kopessovo in Epirus, who, despite Western influence, tried to remain loyal to the Byzantine tradition following the standards of the Konstantinos Palaiologos era. The more popular manner of the depictions does not diminish the sweetness of the facial expression or the comforting feeling instilled in the souls of the faithful.

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The icon screen of the convent is one of the most beautiful in the region and was made by skilled craftsmen either from the local area or Epirus. The miracle-working Icon of the Mother of God found in and belonging to the monastery dates back to either the 12th or the 13th century according to modern methods of dating holy icons.

 

 

 

The plenty votive offerings to the Mother of God helped the property of the Monastery to increase, and this property was taken care of by workmen inhabiting the area. In 1820 this place of worship was characterized as a Holy Monastery for reasons of prestige because of the presence of the Holy Icon, since it never had a monastic brotherhood. It only had an Abbot appointed by the Bishop of Siatista and an administration Committee.

 

 

This Holy place played an important religious and national role supporting the nation’s struggle for independence in 1821, offering hospitality and a hiding place to revolutionaries of the independence struggle, maintaining an ammunition store, paying the salary of the village teacher, and strengthening the inhabitants’ faith so that they could resist the pressure of Islamic proselytism.

 

The monastery participated in the historic events of 1878, offering moral and material support, in the Macedonian struggle during the years 1904-1908, in the war of liberation in 1912, in the relief of the victims of the Asia Minor disaster, in the epic struggle of 1940-1941 and its climax, i.e. the historic Fardikampos battle in March 1943. The monastery “offered soul, blood and money” offering the sacrifice even of its priest.

 

 

After the war, the bishop of Sisani and Siatista, Iakovos Kleomvrotos, (later to become Bishop of Mytilini), a powerful personality of the clergy, realised that the Holy Monastery was a more suitable place for spiritual and social activity than mountainous Siatista.

 

In 1952 he founded a School of Agriculture here for the farmers’ sons of the area, which, after functioning for two years, closed and was given to the Swiss Red Cross with a view to founding a hospital for local children suffering from glandular problems. In this building a primary school was also set up. In this way, hundreds of local children were helped.

 

Other buildings at the same location include the boarding school of the School of Housekeeping, which was used as a guest house and later as a home for the elderly. In addition, another building was erected in which his successor – Bishop Polykarpos – founded an orphanage.

 

Bishop Antonios was elected in 1974, and he showed great interest in the restoration and peopling of the monasteries in the region. In 1981 the position of the Abbot fell vacant and Father Stephanos Renos took over. With the moral, spiritual and material support of the Bishop as well as the contribution of the faithful and well-known donors, Father Stephanos Renos did great renovation work and added new buildings, a guest house and chapels.

 

 

 

 

In 1993, by a presidential decree, the Holy Monastery was turned into a monastery for women, and some time later the first monastics entered the monastery.

 

 

Two noticeable customs have been preserved since the years of Turkish domination. The first is the custom of Horseriding. On the 15th August, a religious festival day, the young men from Siatista armed and riding ornate horses came to the festival to venerate the Mother of God and under the unsuspicious eyes of the Turks the leaders of the struggle talked about the issues concerning the revolution, and the hope of freedom for the enslaved Greeks was strengthened. This custom has been preserved until today and has been incorporated in the whole festive religious atmosphere.

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eleousa Mother of god orthodox city hermit pilgrimage retreat mikrokastro horse ridingeleousa Mother of god orthodox city hermit pilgrimage retreat mikrokastro horse riding

The second custom is the carrying in procession of the icon of the Mother of God That is, apart from extraordinary events such as insect epidemics, droughts and illnesses, during which the inhabitants of the area carried the icon in procession around the area to ward off evil, the inhabitants of Siatista have been taking the same icon in procession regularly for centuries now. In all weathers and accompanied by many people of all ages, they cover a three-hour distance on foot holding the icon in their hands until they arrive in their town, where the icon is solemnly received and taken to the cathedral and a prayer is chanted. After this, the Icon is taken to every house and flat. This event witnesses the fact that neither the Mother of God’s grace nor the people’s faith have diminished.

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icon procession mikrokastro eleousa Mmother of god orthodox city hermit pilgrimage retreat mikrokastro

 

The grace of the Mother of God has gathered peace-loving and pious women who have offered themselves to life-long service in the monastery, vowing to find salvation through the basic virtues of monastic life: obedience, chastity, lack of property, prayer, charity, and at the same time trying to achieve the moral elevation of local inhabitants.

The small sisterhood has devoted itself to a struggle for inner order, the restoration of buildings, the organization of worship, tree-planting on the land belonging to the convent, hospitality and spiritual outreach to visitors. The sisterhood sows with patience, cultivates the seeds of the virtues referred to in the Gospel with assiduity, re-baptizes the faithful in the genuine spiritual concepts of the Orthodox Church and the Holy Fathers, interprets the Gospel, comforts the sad and turns the beautiful stone-built monastery into a safe harbour, where people struggling in life can find shelter and relief.

 

 

Contact Information:

Mikrokastro, Siatista, Greece

Tel no: +30 24650 71307

To be continued …

Part B: Lessons from the Monastery and Miracles at Mikrokastro Mother Of God to follow soon

 

 

Three Old Age Vignettes

Written at my refuge, the Mikrokastro monastery, under Our Lady’s Protective Veil . Watching my father die the last two weeks has been very painful and filled my mind with images of old age and decay.

 

Three Old Age Vignettes

 

 

 Terminal, Temporary, Transcending 

 

 

 

1 Corinthians 2

14 But the natural man does not receive the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him; nor can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. 15 But he who is spiritual judges all things, yet he himself is rightly judged by no one.

 

1 Corinthians 3

  1. And I, brethren, could not speak unto you as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal, …

3. For ye are yet carnal: for whereas there is among you envying, and strife, and divisions, are ye not carnal, and walk as men?

 

I. Terminal

Three Old Age Death Vignettes orthodox city hermit

 

An Old Man by

C. P. Cavafys (1863-1933)

 

At the noisy end of the café, head bent

over the table, an old man sits alone,

a newspaper in front of him.

 

And in the miserable banality of old age

he thinks how little he enjoyed the years

when he had strength, eloquence, and looks.

 

He knows he’s aged a lot: he sees it, feels it.

Yet it seems he was young just yesterday.

So brief an interval, so very brief.

 

And he thinks of Prudence, how it fooled him,

how he always believed—what madness—

that cheat who said: “Tomorrow. You have plenty of time.”

 

He remembers impulses bridled, the joy

he sacrificed. Every chance he lost

now mocks his senseless caution.

 

But so much thinking, so much remembering

makes the old man dizzy. He falls asleep,

his head resting on the café table.

 

II. Temporary

 

Three Old Age Death Vignettes picasso old guitarist orthodox city hermit

 

Do not go gentle into that good night

Dylan Thomas, 1914 – 1953

 

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

 

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

 

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 

 

III. Transcending

An Old Man in Christ

 

The royal doors are open, the great Liturgy is about to begin!

 

In the pouring rain, our fate

In Your hands, Lord brighten,

We make our way to meet you,

Beloved, across massive puddles

Rising with the tide of excitement.

 

“Ah, the blameless in the way. Alleluia”

 

Heart, body, mind and soul

Thoroughly cleansed and washed,

We are determined

To sprinkle Joy on your grey day,

Be your Guardian angels For a while

And hold off dark clouds

Of abandonment.

 

“My soul is worn with endless longing. Alleluia”

 

At the door, your quiet Strength surprises us!

An enchanting infant’s smile, behold!

You Beam our welcome,

Appropriately Toothless!

Are you, old friend, but a year old?

 

“Lord, I am become as a bottle in the frost. Alleluia.”

 

Head bent, hands crossed

The epitrachelion wraps gently

Emasciated shoulders, frail, stooped.

Humbly you whisper to Father

Your Confession, Taste Loyal Servant

The Fountain of Immortality

Invisible choirs accompany our poor hymn!

 

“Call me up to You, O Savior, and save me. Alleluia.”

 

You live alone, at your 93,

Even climb, dear, bedroom’s stairs steep!

Yet Angels and Saints keep you company

In the lonely path to Christ.
 
Christ before wife, mother and child, you put
 
Grace is free but discipleship is not cheap.

 

“The sheep that was lost am I. Alleluia.”

 

World wars have feared

Your Faith’s strong fortress,

Violently, you took the kingdom, by force.

Ravenous wolves failed

To lead you astray, the one pearl of great price

You unearthed, All that you had

You sold and bought.

 

“The Choir of the Saints has found the Fountain of Life.  Alleluia.”

 

What a living icon you are!

Like your faded with candles kissed

In your icon corner, full of Grace and Light

Painstakingly you commemorate,

Day-to-day, a long, tattered names’ list.

 

“Image am I of Your unutterable glory. Alleluia.”

 

You may be old, feeble and frail,

Yet your zeal and bright courage

Shames us all,

Amidst peppermint and cakes

His wonderful acts prophetically you proclaim,

The Spirit lifts you up,

To generations to come.

 

“Though I bear the scars of my stumblings. Alleluia”

 

Old Brother, toothless, we implore you in Christ,

Begging on your knees we sinful, beseech,

Under your roof, unworthy we pray

Just a little more while, abide with us,

Please stay, bless, to Heavens reach!

 

“Lead me back to be refashioned. Alleluia.”

 

Meek Humility, shine upon us,

Grace abundant your poor children enthuse!

What matters is the soul not the sole,

Bless us, Bless us, Guide us in judgment

You have inherited the Earth indeed.

Even if you’re wearing odd shoes!

 

“Into that ancient beauty of Your Likeness. Alleluia.”