Our Third Pilgrimage in the Footsteps of the Theotokos — Panagia Eleousa, Xyniada
The third and last pilgrimage of our weekend in the footsteps of the Theotokos brought us to the Monastery of Panagia Eleousa in Xyniada, near Domokos, Central Greece
Standing before her miraculous icon, we all fell silent, motionless, almost breathless. No one spoke. No one moved. There was only silence — and the overwhelming sense of her presence.
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We heard the extraordinary story of the miraculous discovery of the icon, and of the many miracles that followed. Yet all these accounts seemed to fade into the background before two things that touched every one of us: the presence of the Mother of God, which we all felt so deeply, and the extraordinary childlike spirit of Gerondas Archimandrite Athanasios.
Now around eighty and in fragile health following major surgery, he astonished us with his simplicity, his eyes, his smile, the way he spoke, his joy — everything about him! None of us had ever encountered an Abbot quite like him. He was, in the most beautiful sense of the word, a child!
But the story of this monastery goes back more than seventy years.
The Miraculous Discovery of the Icon
In 1954, the Mother of God appeared in a vision to an eight-year-old child and revealed the location of her hidden icon, buried approximately 1.5 metres beneath the ground.
The icon bears the inscription “Mother of God, Eleousa” (Mother of Mercy). It is believed to date back to the period of Byzantine Iconoclasm and has survived in remarkably good condition.
A small church was erected on the site of the discovery in 1962. As pilgrims began arriving in increasing numbers, a larger church was built with the generous support of the faithful and completed in August 1966. Monastic cells and other buildings followed.
A glimpse of the monastery and its surrounding:
The monastery was formally consecrated in 1972 and soon became a well-known pilgrimage destination. The renowned Athonite hymnographer Gerasimos Mikragiannanitis composed a special liturgical service commemorating the Finding of the Holy Icon, celebrated each year on 21 June, the anniversary of its discovery.
The monastery also houses a museum with sacred treasures, including the epitrachelion (priestly stole) of Saint Nektarios, as well as a home providing care for elderly people in need.
And now, a glimpse into the heart of the monastery, where the Mother of God welcomes her pilgrims:
That eight-year-old child to whom the Mother of God appeared in 1954 was none other than Archimandrite Athanasios (Syros) himself — the Abbot who had welcomed us, and the monastery’s Gerondas. (The other monk in the monastery, no more than 35 or so years old, always smiling with love and ready to serve is Hieromonk Chrysanthos, his spiritual son and disciple.)
These videos hardly do Gerondas Athanasios justice. You have to meet him in person, to listen to him speak, to experience his presence and his extraordinary childlike joy. No recording can quite capture that.
More than seventy years later, the little boy was still there, serving the Mother of God who had once appeared to him.
And somehow, in the presence of the Theotokos and the childlike joy of this elderly monk, we all felt as though we had been drawn into that very miracle ourselves, as though the years had fallen away and we were standing there with the little boy when the Mother of God first came to him.
Perhaps, in some mysterious way, he had never ceased to be that child.
In the first part of our pilgrimage to Panagia Prousiotissa, we arrived before dawn, while Matins was already being celebrated, and stood before the miraculous icon of the Mother of God throughout the Divine Liturgy.
But how did this sacred icon come to rest in such a remote place, among the precipitous mountains of Roumeli?
According to a tradition cherished for nearly twelve centuries, the story begins far away, in Asia Minor, during one of the most troubled periods in the history of the Byzantine Church.
The miraculous icon of Panagia Prousiotissa is traditionally attributed to St Luke the Evangelist himself, who is revered as the first iconographer of the Mother of God. This tradition, together with the account of the icon’s journey from Prusa in Asia Minor, is preserved in the monastery’s own manuscript tradition (Manuscript No. 3).
An Icon Saved from the Flames
The year was AD 829, during the reign of the Byzantine Emperor Theophilos, a fierce supporter of Iconoclasm — the movement that opposed the veneration of holy icons and led to their destruction.
In the city of Prusa, present-day Bursa in Turkey, there was a much-venerated icon of the Mother of God, traditionally attributed to the hand of St Luke the Evangelist.
A young nobleman, the son of a high-ranking official of the imperial court, was deeply devoted to the icon. He had witnessed, or heard of, the miracles associated with it and could not bear the thought of its destruction.
Rather than surrender it to the iconoclast authorities, he resolved to take it away from Asia Minor and carry it to safety in Greece.
He could not have imagined where his journey would end.
The Icon That Disappeared
The young man travelled westwards, carrying his precious treasure.
But when he reached Thrace, something inexplicable happened.
The icon disappeared.
Despite his efforts, he could not find it. Grieved by the loss, he continued his journey and eventually settled in Ypati, near Lamia, where he built a small chapel and tried to find consolation in prayer.
Yet the icon had not been lost.
Or rather, according to the sacred tradition, it had already reached the place where the Mother of God wished it to remain.
A Light Between Earth and Heaven
Far away, in the mountains of Evrytania, a young shepherd was tending his father’s goats.
One night, while he slept among the other shepherds, he was awakened by something extraordinary.
He heard singing.
Not the familiar voices of his companions, but sweet, gentle hymns coming from somewhere in the darkness.
Startled, he looked around and saw a great column of light rising from a cave towards the heavens.
The following morning, accompanied by his father and other shepherds, he went to investigate.
There, within the cave, they discovered the holy icon of the Mother of God, shining with an extraordinary radiance.
The news spread through the surrounding villages and eventually reached the young man who had brought the icon from Prusa.
He hurried to Evrytania.
When he saw the icon, he recognised it immediately. Falling to the ground, he venerated it with tears.
The treasure he believed he had lost had been found again — but in a place he himself would never have chosen.
Where She Wished to Remain
The young man understood the discovery as a revelation of the will of the Mother of God.
He had wished to save her icon and carry it to a place of safety. Yet she had led him, by a path he could neither foresee nor understand, to this secluded cave among the mountains.
He remained there and became a monk, taking the name Dionysios. His companion also embraced the monastic life, receiving the name Timotheos.
Thus, according to the monastery’s tradition, began the monastic community that would grow into the great sanctuary of Panagia Prousiotissa.
And so the icon, which had begun its journey in Prusa, gave its name to the monastery and to the Mother of God herself: Panagia Prousiotissa — Our Lady of Prusa.
The discovery is commemorated on 23 August, the Leavetaking of the Dormition of the Theotokos, when the monastery celebrates its principal feast.
The Footprints of the Mother of God
There is another remarkable tradition associated with the journey of the Panagia to her chosen dwelling place.
On the road leading towards the monastery, at a location known as Typoma (the Imprint), pilgrims can see what are called the Footprints of the Panagia — Ta Patimata tis Panagias.
These are seven differently coloured markings on a steep rock face which, according to local sacred tradition, were left by the Mother of God as she passed through the mountains.
The footprints have become another cherished part of the pilgrimage, a reminder of the belief that the Mother of God herself came to these mountains and chose them as her dwelling place.
The One Who Chooses, and the Ones Who Follow
There is something particularly moving about this story.
A young man sets out to save an icon. He makes his plans, chooses his destination and undertakes a difficult journey. Then, suddenly, everything is taken out of his hands.
The icon disappears. His plans come to nothing.
Only later does he discover that what seemed to be a loss had become the beginning of something far greater.
The Mother of God had not abandoned him. She had led him somewhere he had never intended to go.
Perhaps this is why the story has spoken to so many generations of pilgrims. We too make our plans, and sometimes find ourselves led along paths we would never have chosen.
And sometimes, only much later, do we begin to understand.
For nearly twelve centuries, pilgrims have made their way to this remote sanctuary, bringing their sorrows, their gratitude, their fears and their hopes before the Mother of God.
The icon remains where, according to tradition, she chose to dwell.
And the pilgrims continue to come.
The story of Panagia Prousiotissa, however, is not confined to the distant past. Her presence is still felt in the life of the monastery, and perhaps nowhere more tenderly than in the loving ministry of its Abbot, Elder Ioannikios. In the third part of our pilgrimage, we shall return to our unforgettable encounter with him and listen to his own words.
In Part III, we shall turn to some of the extraordinary accounts of the protection of Panagia Prousiotissa through war, fire and pestilence — from the Greek War of Independence to the destruction of the monastery in 1944, and the terrible influenza epidemic of 1918.
Panagia Prousiotissa: Twelve Centuries of Unceasing Prayer
Our pilgrimage to the wonderworking icons of the Mother of God in Central Greece continued with a second, extraordinary destination: the Monastery of Panagia Prousiotissa, the beloved Lady of Roumeli. Panagia Prousiotissa is widely regarded as one of Greece’s foremost Theotokos pilgrimage shrines, often described as second only to Panagia Evangelistria on the island of Tinos, the third one being Panagia Soumela.
Panagia Prousiotissa — A Pilgrimage in Four Parts
Our pilgrimage to Panagia Prousiotissa unfolds in three parts: from our arrival in the darkness before dawn to the extraordinary journey of the miraculous icon and the holy footprints of the Mother of God; and finally, to our unforgettable encounter with Elder Ioannikios and his ministry of love.
Three glimpses into one sacred place, where the prayers of centuries are still alive.
Part I: From Darkness into Light
We arrived at the Monastery of Panagia Prousiotissa before dawn on Sunday morning, while Matins was already being celebrated. The mountains of Evrytania, in Central Greece, were still wrapped in darkness, and the monastery, nestled among towering cliffs, glowed softly beneath the deep blue of the early morning sky.
I spent the entire service — Matins and the Divine Liturgy — standing before the miraculous icon of the Mother of God. For those precious hours, there was no need to go anywhere else.
“Beneath thy compassion we take refuge, O Theotokos; do not despise our supplications in time of trouble, but deliver us from dangers, O only pure, only blessed one.”
These ancient words of prayer seemed to express everything that needed to be said. Before her icon, surrounded by the prayers of so many generations, one could simply stand, entrusting everything and everyone to her intercessions.
Only afterwards, over morning coffee in the monastery’s archontariki (guest reception room), did we have the blessing of meeting Elder Ioannikios, the Abbot, and listening to him.
His warmth, his words, and above all the love with which he received each pilgrim deserve a story of their own. God willing, we shall return to this encounter in the third part of our pilgrimage series.
And then, as daylight spread across the mountains, we went out to discover the extraordinary beauty of the place itself.
A Monastery Between Heaven and Earth
The Holy Monastery of Panagia Prousiotissa stands in one of the most dramatic landscapes of mainland Greece, approximately 35 kilometres from Karpenisi, among the mountains of Chelidona, Kaliakouda and the Panaitoliko range.
Surrounded by dense forests and steep, rocky precipices, its stone buildings seem almost to emerge from the mountainside itself. From a distance, the monastery appears suspended above the valley.
It is little wonder that generations of pilgrims have called it the House of the Mother of God, and the Panagia herself the Lady of Roumeli.
In daylight, the full beauty of the setting becomes apparent: the wooded slopes, the narrow ravines, the great walls of rock and the monastery buildings gathered beneath them.
According to sacred tradition, the monastery’s origins date back to AD 829, during the period of Byzantine Iconoclasm, when the miraculous icon of the Theotokos arrived from Prusa (Bursa) in Asia Minor.
The tradition tells of two young men, later known as the monks Dionysios and Timotheos, whose lives became inseparably connected with the icon and the foundation of the monastery.
The full story of the icon’s extraordinary journey, its disappearance and miraculous discovery will be the subject of Part II.
During our conversation in the monastery’s archontariki, Elder Ioannikios emphasised something truly remarkable: according to the monastery’s tradition, its life of prayer has continued without interruption for some 1,200 years, ever since its foundation in AD 829.
Even during the darkest periods of its history, when only a single monk remained, the lamp before the miraculous icon of the Mother of God was never extinguished.
The Elder described this continuity as unique in the world, drawing a comparison with the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, whose sacred history (2000 years) reaches back to the time of Christ.
Twelve centuries of prayer. Twelve centuries of tears, petitions, thanksgiving and hope. And through it all, the lamp before the Mother of God still burning.
A Sanctuary Through the Centuries
Over the centuries, the monastery became not only a place of prayer and pilgrimage but also a refuge for those suffering through the upheavals of Greek history.
During Ottoman rule, it offered shelter and spiritual support to the surrounding population. It was also closely associated with the Greek War of Independence and the celebrated revolutionary commander Georgios Karaiskakis, who stayed here while suffering from illness.
Above the monastery stand the famous Karaoulia, two stone watchtowers associated with the revolutionary period, reminders of the days when these mountains were both a sanctuary and a stronghold.
Stone, Silence and Living History
The monastery’s principal church, or katholikon, incorporates a remarkable sanctuary associated with the original cave where the miraculous icon was discovered.
The present church dates substantially from the eighteenth century, while surviving frescoes bear witness to earlier periods of its history.
Around it, the monastic buildings, courtyards, arches and passageways form an architectural whole that seems to belong naturally to the rocky landscape.
The monastery also preserves important ecclesiastical treasures, relics and historical objects, including items associated with Karaiskakis. Its collections recall the close relationship between Orthodox monasticism, education and the history of Roumeli.
IIn 1944, during the German occupation of Greece, the monastery suffered devastating destruction. Yet, amid the flames and devastation, one place remained untouched: the chapel housing the wonderworking icon of the Mother of God. The monastery was reduced to ruins, but the sanctuary of the Panagia was spared. Yet it rose again, and its centuries-old life of worship and hospitality continued.
Today, pilgrims still arrive from Greece and abroad to venerate the miraculous icon, attend the Divine Liturgy and seek the intercessions of the Mother of God.
The monastery celebrates its principal feast on 23 August, the Leavetaking of the Dormition of the Theotokos.
The Mountains in the Morning Light
By the time we had finished our visit, the mountains were no longer hidden in darkness.
The cliffs, forests and stone buildings stood revealed in the morning light. The place that had welcomed us before dawn with the sound of prayer now opened before us in all its astonishing natural beauty.
Yet what remains most vividly with me is not the grandeur of the mountains, nor even the beauty of the monastery.
It is those early hours before the miraculous icon of the Mother of God, while Matins gave way to the Divine Liturgy.
The mountains were still in darkness when we arrived. But within the monastery, the day had already begun in prayer.
In Part II, we shall follow the extraordinary journey of the miraculous icon of Panagia Prousiotissa, from Asia Minor to the mountains of Roumeli, and discover why, according to sacred tradition, the Mother of God chose this remote sanctuary as her dwelling place.
The Wonderworking Panagia of Agathonos and the Incorrupt Saint Vissarion
Today’s pilgrimage to the wonderworking icons of the Theotokos in Central Greece (Sterea Ellada) brought us to the Monastery of Agathonos, nestled among the wooded slopes of Mount Oiti.
Near Ypati, the Monastery of Agathonos welcomes pilgrims into a courtyard of flowers, beneath an imposing bell tower. Beyond its walls, deer and birds inhabit the monastery grounds. Within, two beloved treasures draw the faithful: the wonderworking icon of the Mother of God and the incorrupt relics of Saint Vissarion.
The welcome of the fathers, a small refreshment offered with love, and the quiet of the mountain allow the visitor to pause.
Beneath her gaze, the weary find shelter.
A light in the cave
According to local tradition, Saint Agathon lived in an older monastery near the villages of Lychnos and Kastania. When the ground subsided and the buildings were damaged, its icon of the Theotokos disappeared. It was later discovered in a cave filled with light. Nearby, the saint established the present monastery, traditionally dated to the fourteenth or fifteenth century.
Another account, preserved in the monastery’s 1939 pilgrim guide, tells of two Muslim villagers who repeatedly noticed light coming from a rocky cave. Approaching it, they discovered the icon, brought it to Agathon and offered surrounding woodland to the new monastery.
The icon belongs to the Hodegetria type: the Mother of God who points towards Christ, showing us the Way. Its silver covering leaves only the faces of the Theotokos and her Child visible. Around it, votive offerings preserve the thanksgiving of generations.
In 1822, Dramali’s forces burned the monastery. Books, frescoes and treasures were lost, but the icon survived.
A boat brought safely home
One account, preserved by Theoktistos Athanasios Lainas in his book about the monastery, recalls eight sailors caught in a violent storm in November 1918.
Their boat, the Vasiliki, was struggling in the Maliakos Gulf. Its mast broke; the captain and his seven companions clung to whatever they could grasp. Then, according to their testimony, a woman appeared beside the helm, surrounded by light. The storm subsided, and the boat reached the harbour of Stylida.
When the sailors described her, people at the harbour told them of Panagia Agathonos. Still wearing their wet clothes, they set out for the monastery, walking in silence.
Inside the church, they recognised in the icon the face they had seen at sea. Monastery tradition adds that two of them stayed and became monks.
A path illuminated
Another story tells of a young woman who had lost her sight. Years later, she dreamed of a woman dressed in white, asking why she had never visited her.
“But I am blind. I cannot see.”
“Come tomorrow to the Monastery of Agathonos, and you will see me.”
Her family accompanied her along the narrow mountain path. Suddenly, she asked them to release their hold: she could make out the path shining before her feet.
Later she collapsed, and they carried her into the church, placing her beneath the icon. On regaining consciousness, she opened her eyes and cried out that she could see. Pointing to the Theotokos, she recognised the woman of her dream.
Beneath her gaze, a light upon the path.
Through trial, towards holiness
The monastery’s history also holds memories of resistance, education and care for the poor. During the Greek War of Independence, it sheltered fighters and offered the service of its own monks. At different periods, it supported schools and children living in poverty.
Its longtime abbot, Archimandrite Germanos Dimakos, remembered as Papa-Anypomonos, ie. Father Inpatient (!), had served as a chaplain in the resistance to the Nazi occupation. His nickname, Papa-Anypomonos—“Father Impatient”—came when, eager to receive his resistance codename, he was gently scolded: “Don’t be so impatient, Father!” And there was his name!
Alongside him, another father served through confession, almsgiving and patient attention to suffering: Father Vissarion.
Saint Vissarion: beyond decay
Saint Vissarion the Agathonite is remembered as a compassionate spiritual father, particularly close to the poor and afflicted. People brought him their illnesses, anxieties and family troubles, finding prayer and practical kindness.
He reposed on 22 January 1991. When his tomb was opened on 3 March 2006, fifteen years later, his body was found incorrupt. The Ecumenical Patriarchate recognised his sainthood on 14 June 2022. His feast is celebrated on 22 January.
His relics rest in the monastery’s Chapel of the Holy Trinity. Some who come remember his voice and counsel; others encounter him for the first time before his reliquary.
Outside, flowers grow and birds move among the trees. Within, pilgrims stand before the Mother and Child, then bow before a saint whom people of our own time knew and loved.
They bring what pilgrims have always brought: grief, gratitude, illness, hope—and prayers they can scarcely put into words.
The miraculous icon of Panagia Faneromeni of Nea Michaniona, also known as Panagia Michaniotissa, is one of the most revered wonder-working icons of the Theotokos in Greece. Together with Panagia Evangelistria of Tinos and Panagia Soumela, it is counted among the country’s major Theotokos pilgrimage shrines. Today’s pilgrimage took us to Nea Michaniona, near Thessaloniki, to venerate this beloved icon of the Mother of God, whose remarkable story of survival during the Asia Minor Catastrophe of 1922 bears witness to the refugees’ deep faith and their enduring love for the Panagia, whom they could not bear to leave behind.
How the Icon of Panagia Faneromeni of Nea Michaniona Was Saved in a Quilt During the Asia Minor Catastrophe of 1922
More than a century ago, the refugees from Asia Minor managed to save their beloved icon of the Mother of God by concealing it among their belongings. Today, the miraculous icon of Panagia Faneromeni, also known as Panagia Michaniotissa, continues to attract thousands of pilgrims from Northern Greece and beyond, especially during the days surrounding her feast, when the holy icon is carried in solemn procession.
Old Michaniona on the Cyzicus Peninsula
The Old Michaniona of Cyzicus
According to the accounts handed down by the older inhabitants of Michaniona, when the great tragedy of the Asia Minor Catastrophe struck in 1922 and the Greek population was forced to abandon its ancestral homes, a woman named Katigo Maoutsa, also known as Lazarakaina, together with her granddaughters, took steps to save the precious icon of Panagia Faneromeni.
They made a protective covering from chintz, a thin cotton fabric, and reverently placed the icon inside it. They then concealed it in a large bundle of clothing, known locally as a degi. In this way, the icon was rescued and eventually brought to Greece.
As A. R. Matikas, a former headmaster of the First Primary School of Nea Michaniona, wrote, the women of Michaniona kept the miraculous icon of the Mother of God constantly with them, as their guide and protectress throughout the ordeal of their displacement, until they finally settled on the beautiful shores of the Thermaic Gulf.
At that time, the area was so desolate and overgrown that the refugees were frightened by the wilderness and the snakes emerging from the uncultivated land.
Panagia Faneromeni, the beloved Mother of God of Michaniona, was initially housed in a wooden church built by the refugees beside the makeshift tents in which they themselves lived.
Traditional “dor-tsefte” fishing boats (1924), brought by the fishermen from Old Michaniona.
The Flight from Asia Minor: An Eyewitness Account
A particularly moving description of the rescue and transportation of the icon is preserved in Vangelis Chatzibirbilou’s popular history of Old and New Michaniona.
He describes the inhabitants as deeply religious people who built small chapels in their fields and faithfully attended church services on Sundays and feast days, even when they were away from home on fishing expeditions.
Just as their lives had begun to improve, and they had built new houses and achieved a measure of prosperity, disaster struck.
It was 22 August 1922, the eve of the great feast of Panagia Faneromeni, celebrated on the Ninth Day after the Dormition of the Mother of God. This was the most important religious festival in Michaniona.
The inhabitants had gathered at the monastery for Great Vespers when news arrived that they would have to flee their homes once again, as catastrophe was approaching.
The account continues:
“Five days later, a steamship arrived at the harbour, sent to us by the Brotherhood of Michaniona in Constantinople. On 29 August 1922, it carried us across to the village of Epivates on the opposite shore, in Eastern Thrace.
“With two journeys, we managed to take our fishing boats, nets, and a considerable number of our possessions. Our animals were transported overland through Bursa.
“The widow Katigo Maoutsidou, who tended the lamps in the Church of Panagia Faneromeni, took Kostas Kamatakis and fifteen-year-old Grigoris Bogakis with her, and together they rescued the holy icon. We carried it with us, wrapped in a quilt.
“Nikolaos Chatzigiannakis, also known as Karanikolas, rescued another valuable icon, that of St Nicholas, which had an oyster embedded in its forehead because it had originally been found in the sea.
“This icon is now kept in the Church of the Holy Unmercenaries in Loutra Edipsou, where some refugees from Michaniona settled and where their descendants still live.”
Thus, amid the confusion, grief, and terror of displacement, the refugees took extraordinary care to preserve the icon of their beloved Panagia.
They had lost their homes, their homeland, and much of what they possessed, but they would not abandon the Mother of God who had accompanied them throughout their lives.
The original church of Panagia Faneromeni, following the completion of its construction in 1928.
A New Home for Panagia Faneromeni
The first church dedicated to Panagia Faneromeni in the refugees’ new settlement on the Thermaic Gulf was a simple wooden structure.
The foundations of a more permanent church were laid in 1927, and its construction was completed in 1932.
Alexandros Sarafidis, a former member of the parish council, recalled how the entire community contributed to its construction:
“Young and old, women and children, everyone worked to build the church. Whenever the bell rang, they all hurried to help, each according to their strength.
“You could see women climbing ladders, passing bricks and roof tiles from hand to hand to the builders. Children formed lines, passing building materials from one to another, all the way from the shore.”
The church was far more than a place of worship. It represented a living connection with the refugees’ ancestral homeland and became a spiritual and social centre around which the new community gradually took shape.
The construction was made possible largely through the tireless efforts of the first parish priest, Fr Ioannis Valasoglou, and was completed under his successor, Fr Georgios Vogiatzoglou.
The parish council also played an essential role. Its members included Alexandros Sarafidis, Vasilis Arapakis, Georgios Tatarakis, Emmanouil Stamidis, and Georgios Svolakis.
Raising the necessary funds was extremely difficult. The community resorted to internal loans and appeals for donations, yet the determination of the refugees never wavered.
The Present Church of Panagia Faneromeni
After the Second World War, as Nea Michaniona continued to grow and prosper through the hard work of its inhabitants, most of whom were engaged in maritime occupations, the need arose for a larger church.
The new church was built during the episcopate of the late Metropolitan Prokopios of Nea Krini and Kalamaria, with generous contributions from the faithful and funds raised through numerous collections.
Its foundations were laid on 9 March 1975, and its consecration took place with great solemnity on Sunday, 27 May 1984.
The architectural plans were prepared by Georgios Axiotis, an architect specialising in church buildings, while the construction was undertaken by Vasilios Paterakis.
The church can accommodate approximately 4,000 worshippers.
Its dimensions are impressive:
Length: 35 metres
Width: 22 metres
Interior height of the dome, measured from the basement floor: 26.5 metres
Diameter of the dome: 13 metres
The church contains five chapels, two of which have been consecrated in honour of St John the Theologian and St Prokopios.
Today, this magnificent church attracts pilgrims from throughout Greece, including organised groups from the southern mainland and the islands.
The Establishment of Nea Michaniona
Nea Michaniona was founded on 14 May 1923.
The refugees initially lived in tents, before moving into the first newly constructed houses towards the end of August that year.
The settlement was established by approximately 450 refugee families, originating from Old Michaniona on the Sea of Marmara, Avdimio and Kerasia in Eastern Thrace, and Kasteli, Ambarli, and Çeşme in the Smyrna region.
Initially, Nea Michaniona was administered as part of the Community of Epanomi, which owned the land allocated for the refugees’ settlement.
In June 1926, Nea Michaniona became an independent community, incorporating the neighbouring settlements of Nea Kerasia and Angelochori.
The Long Journey to a New Homeland
For many of the refugees who eventually settled in the wider Nea Michaniona area, the Asia Minor Catastrophe marked the beginning of a long and difficult journey through various parts of Greece.
Most of the inhabitants of Old Michaniona initially found temporary refuge in Loutra Edipsou, on the island of Euboea.
Those who came from Çeşme followed a different route.
Many of the refugees were fishermen, sailors, or boat captains, and therefore possessed their own vessels. They used these boats to cross to the nearby Greek islands of Chios, Samos, and Lesbos.
Once the new settlement of Nea Michaniona had been established, they gradually made their way there.
In 1923, the steamship Thetis transported the refugees from Edipsos to Thessaloniki, from where they eventually reached their new home on the shores of the Thermaic Gulf.
The farmers settled further inland, while the fishermen established themselves along the coast, continuing the occupations and traditions they had brought from their lost homeland.
Through hardship, perseverance, and faith, the refugees gradually rebuilt their lives.
And at the heart of their new community stood the icon of Panagia Faneromeni, the Mother of God, whom they had carried with them through exile, concealed in a humble quilt.
The icon remains to this day a cherished symbol of their faith, their suffering, their survival, and their enduring connection with their ancestral homeland.
Source for its remarkable story of survival during the Asia Minor Catastrophe of 1922: Faros tou Thermaikou, drawing on historical accounts and testimonies concerning Old and New Michaniona, including the works of A. R. Matikas and Vangelis Chatzibirbilou.
A Pilgrimage from Disappointment, Doubt, Discouragement, and Despair to Hope
The tone of our pilgrimage through mountainous Halkidiki was set from the very beginning. On the minibus, we listened to a homily about the remembrance of death and the extraordinary faith of a bereaved mother.
As the preacher recounted it, she had watched all eight of her children perish before her eyes when their boat sank. She arrived as a refugee from Asia Minor entirely alone: a widow, now without her children. Yet she continued to thank the Lord. Her joy rested in the hope of being reunited with them in the life to come. They had been His children before they were hers, and she trusted that He knew best what was good for them.
We could only approach such suffering with reverence. Her thanksgiving did not diminish her loss; it revealed her trust in the Resurrection. Through her story, the remembrance of death became inseparable from the hope of eternal life. This testimony accompanied us to a monastery whose very name speaks of consolation.
On our way there, I also had the blessing to sit next to a lady 90 years old, yet radiant with joy, thanksgiving and unceasing tears for all mankind! She was another widow, from a very young age, left alone with her children for 30 years in a foreign land, yet she never complained once and always thanked Him for His Providence. “He certainly knew better than me what was best for our salvation”, she reassured me!
When we arrived, we were struck by the beauty of all the surrounding nature and that of the monastery buildings!Even the monastery animals greeted us with joy and love!
“The Monastic House of the Virgin Mary”, “The Joy of All Who Sorrow” stands at the edge of Palaiochori, near Arnaia, beside the road towards Megali Panagia. Founded in 1999 by Archimandrite Ignatios and his brotherhood, this men’s monastery grew around an existing chapel dedicated to Saint Athanasius of Athos, whose feast it celebrates on 5 July.
The Monastery and Its Icons
Three icons of the Mother of God are treasured here as wonderworking: the ‘main’ two icons are the Joy of All Who Sorrow and the Inexhaustible Cup. Their local celebrations take place on the Sunday of the Myrrh-Bearers, with a vigil, and on 18 May respectively. Bright Friday brings the Divine Liturgy, a procession with the icon, and the blessing of the gardens. And there is a third one of the Theotokos that is always fragrant and wonderworking too.
Joy of All Who SorrowVirgin Mary “The Inexhaustible Chalice” (Greek: Παναγία «το Ακένωτον Ποτήριον»)
In the traditional iconography of The Joy of All Who Sorrow, the Mother of God is surrounded by people in distress, with angels ministering among them. Having stood beside her Son’s Cross, she knows the suffering of love. Her title invites us to bring our grief to her, even before we can find words to explain it. Consolation can begin with the knowledge that our sorrow has been heard and that we are held in prayer.
The Inexhaustible Cup depicts the Mother of God with her hands raised in prayer and the Christ Child standing in a chalice before her. Its Eucharistic imagery directs us to Christ, who gives Himself for the life of the world. Particularly associated with prayers for those suffering from addiction and their families, it also speaks to everyone whose strength is exhausted. Our resources may fail; His mercy does not run dry.Above the icon in the monastery, a glass-fronted cabinet held cigarette packets, bottles, and syringes, etc., left by people who had found freedom from addiction. Offered in thanksgiving to the Mother of God, these tamata—votive offerings—bore witness to their healing.
The Four Ds
Coffee was served, and the monastery Gerondas welcomed us. We were particularly struck by his words urging us to never cease saying the Jesus prayer all the time and cautioning us against the 4 Ds! 4 D-named dangers to the heart: Disappointment, Doubt, Discouragement, and Despair. How Disappointment wounds our hopes; Doubt questions whether God hears or cares; Discouragement weakens our willingness to persevere; and Despair persuades us that no hope remains.
The two icons offered a quiet answer. Before The Joy of All Who Sorrow, we were invited to bring our wounded expectations into prayer. Before The Inexhaustible Cup, we were reminded that Christ’s help remains available when our courage has failed. We can ask again, accept support, and take the next small step in trust.
The mother in the morning homily returned to mind. We cannot know the hidden course of her grief. What we heard was that she continued to give thanks, entrusting her children to God and hoping to meet them again. Her testimony gave profound expression to the hope towards which the abbot’s words directed us.
Time for Each Soul
But this spiritual father’s love and compassion were without measure. He made time to speak privately with each of us who felt the need, allowing us to share our problems and seek his prayers and guidance.
We left long lists of names, both living and departed. Father asked us to underline those in particular need—a small, tender gesture of attention to the people whose burdens we had brought with us. Alongside those written requests, there was space for personal conversation, for concerns we could only share quietly.
His willingness to listen gave tangible expression to the monastery’s welcome. Disappointment, doubt, discouragement, and despair can isolate us. Being received with compassion and knowing that someone will pray for us can help us persevere.
Our lists also brought us back to the opening homily: we, too, were entrusting those we love to God, holding together our concern for the living and our hope for the departed.
Carrying Hope Home
We returned to our daily lives with their unanswered questions and familiar difficulties, but also with the memory of being heard and the knowledge that others were praying with us.
From the minibus to the monastery, the pilgrimage had directed our hearts towards the Resurrection. The bereaved mother’s faith, the two icons, the abbot’s warning, and his personal care all invited us to entrust ourselves and those we love to Christ.
Mother of God, Joy of All Who Sorrow, bring our grief before your Son.
Mother of God, Inexhaustible Cup, pray for us when our strength runs dry.
We may reach the limits of our strength. Even there, we can turn towards Christ—and find His Mother already praying.
It all began quite unexpectedly. Recently, during Confession, the Abbot of a monastery on Mount Athos told me that God’s will for me now was to leave everything in the hands of the Theotokos and to begin going frequently on pilgrimages — to her shrines and to those of the Saints.
Since then, I have taken part in pilgrimages to Our Lady of Tinos, Saint Porphyrios, Saint Ephraim of Nea Makri, Panagia Malevi, Panagia Varnakova, and many more. I could not have known where that counsel would lead. But pilgrimage followed pilgrimage, and the presence of the Theotokos became increasingly — at times almost overwhelmingly — tangible. She seemed not simply to be waiting at the places toward which we travelled, but somehow to be accompanying the journey itself.
And gradually I began to notice something else: traces of the virtues we contemplate in her icons appearing, in small and very human ways, in the pilgrims travelling beside me.
A pilgrimage is a journey toward holy places, but also a journey among people. Throughout this pilgrimage, the presence of the Theotokos seemed almost overwhelming — in the monasteries, the icons, the prayers, and somehow in the journey itself. And gradually, something else became apparent: the mysteries we contemplated in her feasts seemed to find small reflections in the pilgrims walking beside us — in a word, a sacrifice, a hidden act of service, a way of enduring, believing, or praying.
The four great feasts of the Theotokos themselves seem to trace a spiritual pilgrimage: a beginning, an offering, an indwelling, and a fulfilment — images of our own journey from conversion toward theosis. Along that path, I shall also introduce some of my fellow pilgrims — real people, identified only by their initials — whose lives seemed to offer small, living reflections of that same journey.
I. AWAKENING — THE NATIVITY OF THE THEOTOKOS A Beginning Before We Know Where It Will Lead
The Nativity of the Theotokos is proclaimed by the Church as “the beginning of our salvation.” Nothing spectacular has apparently happened: a child has been born. Yet within this hidden beginning lies the preparation for the Incarnation.
It is a beautiful image of the first movement of conversion: awakening, turning, beginning again. Conversion rarely begins with spiritual fulfilment. Something enters our life — sometimes joy, sometimes suffering, sometimes simply a new awareness of God — and a road begins whose destination we cannot yet see.
M. experienced such a beginning in an extraordinarily painful way. After almost forty years of marriage, during which she raised her children and sacrificed her own career, employment, income, financial independence, security, and even the prospect of a pension to work unpaid for her husband, she suddenly found herself, at almost sixty, having to begin her life again. Divorce, loss of property, eviction, legal battles and financial hardship followed. She now lives in a small social-housing apartment and undertakes seasonal work, including caring for elderly people, at times relying upon friends and her sons for financial help. Yet she continues to work, to struggle, and above all to glorify God. What appeared to be simply the destruction of one life has gradually become the beginning of another.
P., too, has recently entered an entirely new landscape through widowhood. The loss of the person with whom one has shared one’s life creates a threshold one would never willingly choose to cross. Yet she continues forward, and her response to loss has not been withdrawal but service.
A. has also recently lost his wife, while continuing to care at home for his son, who has a disability. Although approximately of retirement age, he seems to be working more than ever, offering himself with remarkable diligence both within the Church and in wider society.
Their circumstances are very different, yet each reminds us of the mystery hidden within the Nativity: God’s new beginnings may appear precisely where we thought something had ended.
II. CONSECRATION — THE ENTRANCE OF THE THEOTOKOS INTO THE TEMPLE
Entering More Deeply into the Life of God
The Entrance of the Theotokos is not described in the canonical Gospels but belongs to the ancient tradition of the Church. The child whose birth announced a new beginning is now brought into the Temple and offered entirely to God. Beginning becomes direction. The young Mary enters the Temple and, according to the tradition of the Church, grows there in prayer, purity and communion with God.
Her Entrance can therefore express the second movement of the spiritual life: not simply turning toward God, but progressively giving one’s life to Him — through purification, obedience, prayer, service and the gradual reorientation of the whole person.
E. embodies something of this wholehearted dedication. Although she still works full-time, she participates tirelessly in one or even two pilgrimages every month, travelling throughout Greece. She readily accepts both the fatigue and the considerable financial cost involved, despite not being a person of considerable financial means. During the COVID period, while working as a nurse, she chose to follow her conscience regarding vaccination despite knowing that her decision would have serious professional consequences, and she was suspended from work. Yet her zeal is anything but disorderly. During the pilgrimage, when an elderly pilgrim suddenly developed high blood pressure and dizziness, E. immediately cared for her. She meticulously recorded names for prayer and arranged votive offerings at each monastery. Her dedication to God continually becomes practical care for others.
G., at eighty years of age (!), offers another form of consecration. A distinguished theologian with a long and eminent academic career, he remains remarkably precise in his expression of the Orthodox faith. Even at his age, he endured the extraordinary physical hardships of this demanding pilgrimage, just as he continues to participate actively in so much else. His theological precision is not merely accumulated academic knowledge; it is an ecclesial mind cultivated throughout an entire lifetime. His words rightly divide the word of truth without ambiguity or compromise, yet his firmness never becomes harshness. He treats even those of another faith, or those whose beliefs are heretical, with exceptional meekness. Truth, for him, is not simply an idea to be defended but a reality to be lived.
P. and A. reveal yet another form of offering. Both remain quietly at the side of Fr N., assisting in his many ministries: soup kitchens, hospitals, pilgrimages, and wherever else a need arises. They are precisely the kind of people one might easily fail to notice, because they are usually to be found where there is work to be done rather than where they might be seen. Like the Myrrh-bearing Women, they do not seek the central place; they are simply present whenever an offering is needed.
Thus, the Entrance marks a movement beyond the first awakening of conversion. The life that has turned toward God gradually becomes a life offered to God.
ΙII. UNION / THEOSIS — THE ANNUNCIATION God Dwelling in the Human Person
At the Annunciation, everything toward which the previous feasts have been moving reaches an unimaginable point. The Theotokos hears the word of God and freely answers: “Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38). And God comes to dwell within her. The Annunciation therefore reveals something at the very heart of Theosis. Human freedom is not abolished by divine grace; it opens itself to it. God acts, the human person responds, and communion becomes possible. The Christian life is no longer simply a matter of turning toward God or even offering things to Him. God Himself increasingly becomes the inner life of the human person.
Something of this mystery could be glimpsed in Fr N. As the priest accompanying more than one hundred pilgrims, he was continually surrounded by questions, conversations, confessions, practical difficulties and people seeking his attention. Yet amid this almost uninterrupted outward activity, he retained a remarkable inner stillness. And one could actually see something of its source. While speaking, listening, hearing confessions, caring for and guiding the pilgrims, his lips would repeatedly and quietly form the Jesus Prayer. Amid the visible movement of the pilgrimage there was another, almost invisible movement: the continual return of the mind and heart to Christ. Prayer was not something that began when his ministry ended. It seemed to have become the hidden inner rhythm running through everything else. His Hesychia therefore did not depend upon external silence. He carried that inner silence with him into the crowd: the gathering of mind and heart in God while remaining completely present to others.
Among the predominantly older pilgrims, M. and E.-K., two young people in their late twenties, stood out in a very different way. There was also an extraordinary coincidence in encountering them there. M. was the assistant of an electrician team working for a company of ours, while E.-K. had been a student of mine many years ago at the Experimental School of the University of Thessaloniki. Quite unexpectedly, both recognised me after all those years — each coming from an entirely different chapter of my life. What was striking in both was difficult to define: they simply seemed to shine with purity in the way they spoke, carried themselves, looked at others and related to those around them. This is not a claim about their private lives, which we cannot know, but about a visible simplicity, modesty and transparency of behaviour.
They remind us that communion with God does not erase the human person. Grace increasingly makes the person transparent to God.
What was striking in both is difficult to define: they simply seemed to shine with purity in the way they spoke, carried themselves, looked at others and related to those around them. This is not a claim about their private lives, which we cannot know, but about a visible simplicity, modesty and transparency of behaviour. They remind us that communion with God does not erase the human person. Grace increasingly makes the person transparent to God.
III. UNION / THEOSIS — FULFILMENT
THE DORMITION OF THE THEOTOKOS The Human Person Received into the Life of God
The Dormition brings the journey to its fulfilment. And here the movement of the Annunciation is beautifully reversed. At the Annunciation, the Theotokos receives Christ within herself. At the Dormition, Christ receives the Theotokos into Himself. In the icon, Christ stands beside the body of His Mother and holds her soul, represented as a small swaddled child. She who once held Him as an infant is now held by Him. The journey that began quietly with her Nativity reaches its fulfilment in complete communion with her Son.
Perhaps here all the pilgrims return…
M.’s extraordinary patience through loss, injustice and uncertainty; her obedience to the spiritual guidance of the Athonite Elder Philotheos, Abbot of the Holy Monastery of Karakallou, which helped her carry what might otherwise have become unbearable. G.’s lifelong fidelity to the truth of the Church, still vigorous at eighty despite hardship and physical exhaustion, combined with a meekness that refuses to turn theological conviction into hostility toward another human being. E.’s restless divine zeal, expressed not only in pilgrimages but in sacrifice, meticulous care and practical service. P. and A.‘s almost hidden ministry beside Fr N., quietly appearing wherever another person needs them. A.‘s self-denial in carrying his own grief and family responsibilities while continuing to carry the burdens of others. The transparent purity of the two younger pilgrims. And Fr N.’s prayer and hesychia, the Jesus Prayer continuing quietly beneath the noise and demands of a pilgrimage of more than one hundred people.
None of these is theosis by itself. Nor does the same virtue appear in every Christian in the same way. One person’s road may be patience; another’s theological truth and meekness; another’s service; another’s self-denial; another’s purity; another’s prayer. But the destination is one: communion with God.
None of these pilgrims possesses these qualities perfectly; nor does any particular virtue belong to only one person. The Theotokos remains their incomparable image and measure. Yet perhaps this was one of the quiet revelations of the pilgrimage. We travelled to monasteries and holy places, stood before her icons, celebrated her feasts and repeatedly encountered her presence. And somehow, that presence seemed almost overwhelming — not only in the churches and shrines, but throughout the journey itself and among the people travelling beside us.
The four feasts seem gradually to trace the pilgrimage of every Christian soul: At the Nativity, the Theotokos enters the world. At the Entrance, she enters the Temple. At the Annunciation, Christ enters the Theotokos. At the Dormition, the Theotokos enters the life of Christ.
Beginning. Offering. Indwelling. Fulfilment. And perhaps the pilgrimage did not really end when we returned home. Her presence, so overwhelming along the way, seems somehow to have accompanied us beyond it, into the very different paths of our ordinary lives. We set out as pilgrims to places sanctified by Her presence; perhaps ever since, She has been accompanying each of us on the personal pilgrimage of our own life. Amen
Following last Friday’s celebration of the memory of Saint Theodora of Sihla, we continue our Romanian pilgrimage through the forests and monasteries that still bear witness to her life of prayer and ascetic struggle.
Leaving behind the holy city of Iași and the places associated with Saint Stephen the Great, our pilgrimage continued into Neamț County, one of Romania’s most remarkable monastic regions. Hidden among forests, mountains and secluded valleys lies a land that has nurtured generations of ascetics, spiritual fathers and saints, whose witness continues to inspire the Orthodox world today.
Our destination was a cluster of monasteries and hermitages closely associated with some of Romania’s most beloved saints: Saint Theodora of Sihla, Saint Elder Cleopa (Ilie) and Saint Elder Paisios (Olaru). Their lives transformed these forests into a living school of prayer, making this region one of the foremost pilgrimage destinations in Romania.
Sihăstria Monastery
Our first stop was Sihăstria Monastery, one of the best-known monasteries in Neamț County, situated in the historical region of Moldavia. Founded in 1655, it has grown into a large monastic complex comprising the old church, the new katholikon, the monks’ cemetery, the bell tower, the winter chapel, the ecclesiastical museum, the library, accommodation for both monks and pilgrims, and a shop offering religious books and devotional items.
Surrounded by forests of remarkable natural beauty, Sihăstria has long been a place of prayer, asceticism and spiritual guidance. It is especially associated with Saint Elder Cleopa (Ilie) and Saint Elder Paisios (Olaru), two of the most revered Romanian elders of the twentieth century, whose wisdom and holiness continue to draw pilgrims from throughout Romania and beyond.
On Sundays and great feast days, thousands of faithful come to Sihăstria, continuing a deeply rooted Romanian tradition of pilgrimage to the country’s great monasteries. Even today, the monastery remains a vibrant spiritual centre where the ancient hesychast tradition is still very much alive.
The Church of Saint Theodora of Sihla
Within the grounds of Sihăstria Monastery stands the Holy Church of Saint Theodora of Sihla, dedicated to one of Romania’s most beloved women saints and greatest ascetics.
The church honours the memory of the seventeenth-century hermit who withdrew into the forests and mountains of Neamț to dedicate her life entirely to prayer, fasting and unceasing communion with God. Today, pilgrims visit this peaceful sanctuary before continuing to her nearby hermitage and the cave where she spent many years in solitude.
The simplicity and serenity of the church beautifully reflect the hidden life of the saint whose witness continues to inspire countless pilgrims seeking a deeper life of prayer.
Saint Theodora of Sihla, one of Romania’s most beloved saints and greatest women ascetics, was born in the region of Neamț during the first half of the seventeenth century. After she and her husband mutually chose to embrace the monastic life, Theodora entered the Skete of Poiana Mărului, where she soon became known for her obedience, humility and deep life of prayer.
Following the destruction of her monastery during the Ottoman incursions, she withdrew into the forests and mountains of Sihla, where, with the blessing of the elders of Sihăstria, she lived as a hermit for more than thirty years. Sustained by prayer, fasting and complete trust in God’s providence, she devoted her life entirely to Christ. According to Romanian tradition, birds brought her bread, while the spring beside her cave provided her with water—a place still known today as Saint Theodora’s Spring.
Shortly before her repose, she received Holy Communion for the last time and peacefully surrendered her soul to God. She was buried beside the cave where she had spent the greater part of her ascetic life, and her tomb soon became a place of pilgrimage. Although her holy relics were later transferred to the Kyiv Caves Lavra, her hermitage, cave and spring continue to draw pilgrims from across Romania and throughout the Orthodox world.
Standing in these silent forests today, one begins to understand why Saint Theodora chose this hidden wilderness. It remains a place where the stillness of nature quietly speaks of a life wholly dedicated to God.
Saints Paisios (Olaru) and Cleopa (Ilie)
Sihăstria Monastery is inseparably linked with two of Romania’s most beloved spiritual fathers of the twentieth century: Saint Elder Paisios (Olaru) and Saint Elder Cleopa (Ilie). Through their lives of prayer, humility and wise spiritual counsel, both elders attracted countless pilgrims and became guiding lights for generations of Orthodox Christians.
Today, their holy relics rest within the monastery, while their preserved monastic cells continue to bear silent witness to lives wholly dedicated to Christ. Pilgrims from across Romania and far beyond come to venerate their relics, visit the humble places where they lived, and seek inspiration from their enduring spiritual legacy.
Saint Paisios (Olaru)
Saint Elder Paisios (Olaru) (1897–1990) was one of Romania’s most beloved spiritual fathers and confessors. Renowned for his profound humility, gentleness and gift of spiritual discernment, he devoted his life to hearing confessions, comforting the afflicted and quietly guiding countless souls towards Christ. Although he sought no recognition, his holiness became known throughout Romania, and pilgrims travelled great distances simply to receive his blessing and fatherly counsel. His peaceful presence and unwavering trust in God’s mercy continue to inspire Orthodox Christians today.
Saint Cleopa (Ilie)
Saint Elder Cleopa (Ilie) (1912–1998) is widely regarded as one of the greatest Romanian elders of the twentieth century. A gifted preacher, theologian and spiritual father, he combined deep asceticism with remarkable pastoral wisdom, making the treasures of the Orthodox faith accessible to thousands through his sermons, writings and personal conversations. His life at Sihăstria Monastery, marked by humility, prayer and fearless witness during difficult times, has left an enduring legacy that continues to attract pilgrims from around the world.
The preserved monastic cells and personal belongings of Saints Elders Paisios (Olaru) and Cleopa (Ilie).
ΓΕΡΩΝ ΘΕΟΚΛΗΤΟΣ ΣΤΗ ΡΟΥΜΑΝΙΑ ΓΙΑ ΑΓΙΟ ΠΑΙΣΙΟ
Conferință și concert bizantin și coral la Hramul Parohiei Sfântul Ștefan cel Mare, Iași” on YouTube
The Hermitage of Saint Theodora of Sihla
Leaving Sihăstria Monastery behind, our pilgrimage continued through the forests towards one of Romania’s most cherished places of prayer—the Hermitage of Saint Theodora of Sihla.
Hidden among the cliffs and dense woodland, this peaceful retreat marks the place where Saint Theodora spent the greater part of her ascetic life in solitude and unceasing prayer. Nearby are the cave where she lived and the spring that, according to tradition, sustained her throughout those many years in the wilderness.
Even today, the silence of these forests invites every pilgrim to pause, pray, and remember that holiness often blossoms far from the noise of the world.
Photographs of the Church of Saint Theodora of Sihla, currently under construction at the Holy Monastery of Sihla in Romania
Neamț Monastery
Our pilgrimage next brought us to Neamț Monastery, the oldest and one of the most important monastic foundations in the historical region of Moldavia. Often referred to as the “Jerusalem of Romanian Orthodoxy,” it has served for centuries as a great centre of prayer, theological learning and monastic culture.
Its magnificent katholikon was built by Saint Stephen the Great in 1497, while the monastery’s renowned library—one of the oldest and richest monastic libraries in Romania, preserving more than 18,000 volumes—bears witness to its enduring contribution to the spiritual and intellectual life of the Romanian Orthodox Church.
Today, Neamț Monastery remains one of Romania’s foremost pilgrimage destinations, where centuries of prayer continue to shape the life of the monastery and all who visit it.
The Ecclesiastical School
Within the grounds of Neamț Monastery is the Ecclesiastical School, where future clergy, monastics and church workers continue to receive their theological and spiritual formation. It stands as a reminder that Romania’s great monasteries have long been centres not only of prayer, but also of learning, preserving the Orthodox faith through education as well as worship.
Putna Monastery
Our pilgrimage next brought us to Putna Monastery, one of Romania’s greatest spiritual treasures and the heart of Bucovina. Founded in 1466 by Saint Stephen the Great (Voivode), it became both the spiritual centre of his kingdom and the place he chose for his own burial.
More than five centuries later, Putna remains a living monastery and one of the foremost pilgrimage destinations in Romania. Surrounded by the peaceful forests of Bucovina, it continues to draw countless pilgrims who come to venerate the tomb of Saint Stephen the Great, revered not only as a remarkable ruler, but also as a saint whose life united courage, humility and profound faith in Christ.
One of the highlights of our visit was the Museum of Putna Monastery, which preserves an outstanding collection of manuscripts, icons, embroidered vestments, liturgical vessels and other treasures of medieval Moldavia. Together they bear witness to the remarkable spiritual, artistic and cultural heritage that flourished under Saint Stephen’s patronage.
Standing before his tomb, one quickly understands why Putna has remained a place of prayer, remembrance and hope for generations of Orthodox Christians. It is not simply a monument to the past, but a living witness to the enduring faith of the Romanian people.
Photographs: Putna Monastery; the Tomb of Saint Stephen the Great (Voivode); the Chapel of the Holy Relics; the Holy Relics of Saint John of Trebizond; the Museum of Putna Monastery; and the monastery grounds.
The outdoor sanctuary where the Divine Liturgy and other liturgical services are celebrated.
The Chapel of the Holy Relics at Putna Monastery.
The Holy Relics of Saint John of Trebizond, whose feast we had celebrated at his monastery only a few days earlier.
As we left the forests of Neamț and Bucovina behind, one impression remained above all others. Every monastery we visited, every hermitage hidden among the trees, every saint whose relics we venerated, bore witness to the same enduring truth: holiness is born in a life centred on Christ.
From the hidden asceticism of Saint Theodora of Sihla, to the gentle wisdom of Saints Paisios (Olaru) and Cleopa (Ilie), and finally to the steadfast faith of Saint Stephen the Great, this part of our pilgrimage became far more than a journey through beautiful monasteries. It became a journey through living examples of prayer, humility, perseverance and unwavering trust in God.May their prayers accompany us, and may their lives encourage us to seek, each in our own circumstances, the same path that leads to Christ.
As our pilgrimage through Romania drew to its close, we departed with far more than photographs and memories. We left carrying the quiet witness of a land where monasteries still breathe with prayer, where the lives of the saints remain deeply woven into the life of the people, and where history continues to speak through places sanctified by faith and sacrifice.
From the holy city of Iași to the forests of Neamț and Bucovina, from the hidden cave of Saint Theodora of Sihla to the humble cells of Saints Paisios (Olaru) and Cleopa (Ilie), and finally to the tomb of Saint Stephen the Great at Putna, each step of the journey revealed another facet of Romania’s rich Orthodox heritage. Different centuries, different vocations and different circumstances, yet all bore witness to the same Gospel lived with faithfulness and love.
Perhaps that is the greatest gift of pilgrimage. It reminds us that holiness is never confined to one place or one age. The saints whom we honour were ordinary men and women who responded wholeheartedly to God’s call, and their witness continues to encourage all who seek Christ today.
As we returned home, we carried with us not only admiration for Romania’s monasteries and sacred treasures, but also gratitude for the living faith that continues to sustain them. May the prayers of all the saints of Romania strengthen our own pilgrimage, until we too reach the heavenly homeland, where every earthly pilgrimage finds its true fulfilment.
Today the Church ascends Mount Tabor. A blessed day to continue our pilgrimage*!
Prayer, Memory and Sacrifice
After the celebrations in honour of Saint Stephen the Great, our pilgrimage through Romania continued with visits to several of Iași’s most treasured holy places.
Our first stop was the Church of Saint Nektarios of Pentapolis, one of the city’s newer churches, where countless faithful gather to seek the prayers of one of the most beloved saints of the modern Orthodox world.
From there we made our way to the magnificent Church of Saint Parascheva of Epivates, the spiritual heart of Iași and the resting place of the incorrupt relics of Romania’s beloved patroness. Throughout the year, pilgrims from across Romania and far beyond come here to venerate the saint whose life of humility and holiness continues to inspire generations of Orthodox Christians.
Beneath the church lies the beautifully arranged Ecclesiastical Museum, whose collections preserve centuries of Romanian Orthodox history through manuscripts, icons, liturgical vessels, vestments and other treasures of the Church. More than a museum, it offers visitors a quiet glimpse into the rich spiritual heritage of the Romanian people.
The Church of the Holy Mandylion of Our Lord and the Holy Brâncoveanu Martyrs
Before leaving Iași, we visited one of the city’s newest Orthodox churches, the Church of the Holy Mandylion of Our Lord and the Holy Brâncoveanu Martyrs. Consecrated in 2021, it is distinguished by its magnificent mosaics, beautifully crafted stained-glass windows and harmonious architectural design.
What makes this church especially remarkable is that many of its mosaics and stained-glass windows were created on site through the dedicated work of the parish priest’s family together with volunteers from the local parish community—a beautiful expression of faith offered through craftsmanship.
The church also features an unusual architectural design. The floor slopes gently towards the sanctuary, allowing even those standing at the very back to participate fully in the Divine Services with an unobstructed view of the Holy Altar.
It is a striking example of how artistic beauty, community dedication and thoughtful pastoral care can come together in the building of a contemporary Orthodox church.
Photographs: The Church of the Holy Mandylion of Our Lord and the Holy Brâncoveanu Martyrs.
Leaving Iași behind, we travelled westward into the wooded hills of Neamț County, one of Romania’s great monastic regions. There, surrounded by forests that have sheltered generations of monks and hermits, stands the historic Secu Monastery, where prayer, history and sacrifice meet remarkably.
Nestled deep within the forests of Neamț County, Secu Monastery is one of Romania’s oldest and most beautiful monastic communities. Hidden in the quiet valley of the River Secu, it has remained a place of prayer and spiritual life for almost five centuries.
Its origins date back to the beginning of the sixteenth century, when a small group of hermits settled in this secluded valley under the guidance of Hieroschemamonk Zosima from nearby Neamț Monastery. Around 1530, they established Zosima’s Hermitage, and a few years later, the Moldavian ruler Petru Rareș built a church for the growing community. His wife, Princess Elena, later enclosed the hermitage with strong stone walls, parts of which still survive today beside the monastery cemetery.
During the following decades, the monastery steadily expanded, receiving generous support from successive rulers of Moldavia. What had begun as a tiny hermitage gradually developed into one of the most important spiritual centres of the region, preserving an unbroken tradition of Orthodox monastic life that continues to this day.
Yet Secu Monastery is remembered not only for its peaceful monastic witness, but also for one of the most moving chapters in modern Greek history.
On 3 July, a memorial service was celebrated at Secu Monastery in honour of the Greek heroes who fell here during the Greek War of Independence.
It was within these monastery walls, in September 1821, that the revolutionary leaders Georgakis Olympios and Ioannis Farmakis, together with their remaining companions, made their final stand against overwhelming Ottoman forces. Choosing death rather than surrender, they transformed the monastery into a place forever linked with both martyrdom and freedom.
The memorial service was held at the very site of their sacrifice and beside their graves. It was a deeply moving act of remembrance and gratitude towards those whose courage marked the closing chapter of the Greek struggle in the Danubian Principalities.
Standing in this quiet monastery today, it is difficult to imagine the violence that once shattered its silence. Yet perhaps that contrast itself speaks most eloquently. The same walls that once echoed with the sounds of battle now resound with prayer, reminding every pilgrim that sacrifice offered for Christ, for freedom, and for one’s neighbour is never forgotten.
Memory eternal to the heroes of Secu Monastery!
May the prayers of all the saints of Romania strengthen our own pilgrimage, until we too reach the heavenly homeland, where every earthly pilgrimage finds its true fulfilment.
May the uncreated light of the Transfigured Christ illumine our hearts, strengthen our faith, and guide us on the path of salvation. May we faithfully hear His voice, follow His Gospel, and reflect His glory in our lives. Blessed Feast of the Holy Transfiguration!
On the occasion of the three-day celebrations in honour of our beloved Saint Paisios, we undertook a pilgrimage to Konitsa and the surrounding region, combining prayer and worship with the beauty of the mountains, rivers and historic villages of Epirus and Western Macedonia.
Day One
Samarina and Konitsa
Our pilgrimage began with a visit to Samarina in the region of Grevena, one of the most beautiful mountain villages of the Pindus and one of the best-known historic Vlach villages.
There, we visited the Church of the Nativity of the Theotokos, commonly known as the “Great Panagia,” and venerated the grace-filled presence of the Mother of God.
Reconstructed in 1819, the imposing church stands at the heart of the village. It is renowned for its magnificent carved wooden iconostasis, its remarkable frescoes painted by local iconographers, and the centuries-old pine tree that rises through the roof of the sanctuary.
The church celebrates its feast on 15 August, when Samarina welcomes the great annual gathering of the Vlachs in a vibrant atmosphere of faith, tradition and communal joy.
Interior of the Church of the Great Panagia in Samarina
Samarina
The family home of Saint Paisios and a Supplicatory Service in his honour
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In the afternoon, we travelled to Konitsa and visited the family home of Saint Paisios. There, a Supplicatory Service was celebrated in his honour, in the very place associated with his childhood and early years.
Later that afternoon, we made our way to the Chapel of Saint Barbara, where Saint Paisios experienced a divine manifestation. In the quiet and prayerful atmosphere of the chapel, we celebrated Compline.
Chapel of Saint Barbara in Konitsa
Compline at the Chapel of Saint Barbara
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Day Two
The Pilgrimage to the Monastery of Stomio
The walk to the Monastery of Stomio
The scenery is dramatic! The Monastery of Stomio is dwarfed by the vast Aoos Gorge. The Aoos River winds between the mountains. Look at the narrow, steep-sided gorge with its turquoise waters, and in another season, the gorge in autumn, with dramatic light, cliffs, and layered mountain peaks.
Before dawn, we departed from the historic arched bridge of Konitsa and began the five-kilometre walk to the Holy Monastery of the Nativity of the Theotokos at Stomio.
The path followed the course of the Aoos River through a landscape of exceptional natural beauty. The stillness of the early morning, the sound of the river and the surrounding mountains gave the journey the character of a true pilgrimage.
At the end of the path, we reached the monastery where Saint Paisios lived in asceticism for four years. During his time there, he laboured tirelessly to restore the monastery, which had been extensively damaged after being burned by German forces during the war.
At Stomio, we celebrated the Divine Liturgy and venerated the Saint’s humble cell, the newly built church dedicated to him, and the grave of the former abbot, Fr Kosmas.
After the traditional monastic hospitality, the new abbot of the monastery, Fr Maximos, spoke to us about Saint Paisios, his life at Stomio and the spiritual legacy he left behind.
In the afternoon, we visited the Holy Monastery of Saint Kosmas of Aetolia, where we venerated the holy relics preserved there, including the relics of Saint John of Konitsa.
That evening, we attended the presentation of the documentary Light of Cappadocia at Konitsa Town Hall. The event took place in the presence of His Eminence Metropolitan Alexios of Dryinoupolis, Pogoniani and Konitsa.
Holy Monastery of the Nativity of the Theotokos at Stomio
The Cell of Saint Paisios and the Church of Saint Paisios
The Holy Monastery of Saint Kosmas of Aetolia and the presentation of the documentary Light of Cappadocia at Konitsa Town Hall
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Day Three
Molyvdoskepastos and Metsovo
The Holy Byzantine Monastery of Molyvdoskepastos
Veneration of the Miraculous Icon of Panagia Pogonianitissa
On Saturday morning, we attended the Divine Liturgy at the historic Byzantine Monastery of Molyvdoskepastos.
Dedicated to the Dormition of the Theotokos, the monastery stands in a place of striking beauty, only four hundred metres from the Greek–Albanian border, near the confluence of the Aoos and Sarantaporos rivers.
There, we venerated the miraculous icon of Panagia Pogonianitissa and prayed before the sacred treasures of this ancient monastery.
In the courtyard, behind the sanctuary, lies the tomb of Metropolitan Sevastianos, the renowned hierarch and tireless defender of Orthodoxy and Hellenism. Nearby is the tomb of the former abbot, Fr Theodoros, where we offered a Trisagion memorial service for the repose of his soul.
After receiving the traditional monastic hospitality, we departed for Metsovo, the beautiful fir-covered Vlach town of the Pindus.
There, surrounded by the beauty of the mountains and the distinctive character of the town, we shared a final meal before beginning our return journey.
The Holy Byzantine Monastery of Molyvdoskepastos, where we venerated the miraculous icon of Panagia Pogonianitissa.
Thus concluded three days filled with prayer, spiritual blessing, fellowship and the beauty of God’s creation.
May Saint Paisios intercede for us and help us all!
