Dienstag, 1. April 2014

Venerable Mary of Egypt



St Zosimas (April 4) was a monk at a certain Palestinian monastery on the outskirts of Caesarea. Having dwelt at the monastery since his childhood, he lived there in asceticism until he reached the age of fifty-three. Then he was disturbed by the thought that he had attained perfection, and needed no one to instruct him. “Is there a monk anywhere who can show me some form of asceticism that I have not attained? Is there anyone who has surpassed me in spiritual sobriety and deeds?”
Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared to him and said, “Zosimas, you have struggled valiantly, as far as this is in the power of man. However, there is no one who is righteous (Rom 3:10). So that you may know how many other ways lead to salvation, leave your native land, like Abraham from the house of his father (Gen 12:1), and go to the monastery by the Jordan.”
Abba Zosimas immediately left the monastery, and following the angel, he went to the Jordan monastery and settled in it. Here he met Elders who were adept in contemplation, and also in their struggles. Never did anyone utter an idle word. Instead, they sang constantly, and prayed all night long. Abba Zosimas began to imitate the spiritual activity of the holy monks. Thus much time passed, and the holy Forty Day Fast approached. There was a certain custom at the monastery, which was why God had led St Zosimas there. On the First Sunday of Great Lent the igumen served the Divine Liturgy, everyone received the All-Pure Body and Blood of Christ. Afterwards, they went to the trapeza for a small repast, and then assembled once more in church. The monks prayed and made prostrations, asking forgiveness one of another. Then they made a prostration before the igumen and asked his blessing for the struggle that lay before them. During the Psalm “The Lord is my Light and my Savior, whom shall I fear? The Lord is defender of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?” (Ps 26/27:1), they opened the monastery gate and went off into the wilderness.
Each took with him as much food as he needed, and went into the desert. When their food ran out, they ate roots and desert plants. The monks crossed the Jordan and scattered in various directions, so that no one might see how another fasted or how they spent their time.
The monks returned to the monastery on Palm Sunday, each having his own conscience as a witness of his ascetic struggles. It was a rule of the monastery that no one asked how anyone else had toiled in the desert.
Abba Zosimas, according to the custom of the monastery, went deep into the desert hoping to find someone living there who could benefit him. He walked into the wilderness for twenty days and then, when he sang the Psalms of the Sixth Hour and made the usual prayers. Suddenly, to the right of the hill where he stood, he saw a human form. He was afraid, thinking that it might be a demonic apparition. Then he guarded himself with the Sign of the Cross, which removed his fear. He turned to the right and saw a form walking southward. The body was black from the blazing sunlight, and the faded short hair was white like a sheep’s fleece. Abba Zosimas rejoiced, since he had not seen any living thing for many days.
The desert-dweller saw Zosimas approaching, and attempted to flee from him. Abba Zosimas, forgetting his age and fatigue, quickened his pace. When he was close enough to be heard, he called out, “Why do you flee from me, a sinful old man? Wait for me, for the love of God.”
The stranger said to him, “Forgive me, Abba Zosimas, but I cannot turn and show my face to you. I am a woman, and as you see, I am naked. If you would grant the request of a sinful woman, throw me your cloak so I might cover my body, and then I can ask for your blessing.”
Then Abba Zosimas was terrified, realizing that she could not have called him by name unless she possessed spiritual insight.
Covered by the cloak, the ascetic turned to Zosimas: “Why do you want to speak with me, a sinful woman? What did you wish to learn from me, you who have not shrunk from such great labors?”
Abba Zosimas fell to the ground and asked for her blessing. She also bowed down before him, and for a long time they remained on the ground each asking the other to bless. Finally, the woman ascetic said: “Abba Zosimas, you must bless and pray, since you are honored with the grace of the priesthood. For many years you have stood before the holy altar, offering the Holy Gifts to the Lord.” These words frightened St Zosimas even more. With tears he said to her, “O Mother! It is clear that you live with God and are dead to this world. You have called me by name and recognized me as a priest, though you have never seen me before. The grace granted you is apparent, therefore bless me, for the Lord’s sake.”
Yielding finally to his entreaties, she said, “Blessed is God, Who cares for the salvation of men.” Abba Zosimas replied, “Amen.” Then they rose to their feet. The woman ascetic again said to the Elder, “Why have you come, Father, to me who am a sinner, bereft of every virtue? Apparently, the grace of the Holy Spirit has brought you to do me a service. But tell me first, Abba, how do the Christians live, how is the Church guided?”
Abba Zosimas answered her, “By your holy prayers God has granted the Church and us all a lasting peace. But fulfill my unworthy request, Mother, and pray for the whole world and for me a sinner, that my wanderings in the desert may not be useless.”
The holy ascetic replied, “You, Abba Zosimas, as a priest, ought to pray for me and for all, for you are called to do this. However, since we must be obedient, I will do as you ask.
The saint turned toward the East, and raising her eyes to heaven and stretching out her hands, she began to pray in a whisper. She prayed so softly that Abba Zosimas could not hear her words. After a long time, the Elder looked up and saw her standing in the air more than a foot above the ground. Seeing this, Zosimas threw himself down on the ground, weeping and repeating, “Lord, have mercy!” Then he was tempted by a thought. He wondered if she might not be a spirit, and if her prayer could be insincere. At that moment she turned around, lifted him from the ground and said, “Why do your thoughts confuse you, Abba Zosimas? I am not an apparition. I am a sinful and unworthy woman, though I am guarded by holy Baptism.” Then she made the Sign of the Cross and said, “May God protect us from the Evil One and his schemes, for fierce is his struggle against us.” Seeing and hearing this, the Elder fell at her feet with tears saying, “I beseech you by Christ our God, do not conceal from me who you are and how you came into this desert. Tell me everything, so that the wondrous works of God may be revealed.”
She replied, “It distresses me, Father, to speak to you about my shameless life. When you hear my story, you might flee from me, as if from a poisonous snake. But I shall tell you everything, Father, concealing nothing. However, I exhort you, cease not to pray for me a sinner, that I may find mercy on the Day of Judgment.
“I was born in Egypt and when I was twelve years old, I left my parents and went to Alexandria. There I lost my chastity and gave myself to unrestrained and insatiable sensuality. For more than seventeen years I lived like that and I did it all for free. Do not think that I refused the money because I was rich. I lived in poverty and worked at spinning flax. To me, life consisted in the satisfaction of my fleshly lust.
“One summer I saw a crowd of people from Libya and Egypt heading toward the sea. They were on their way to Jerusalem for the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. I also wanted to sail with them. Since I had no food or money, I offered my body in payment for my passage. And so I embarked on the ship.
“Now, Father, believe me, I am very amazed, that the sea tolerated my wantonness and fornication, that the earth did not open up its mouth and take me down alive into hell, because I had ensnared so many souls. I think that God was seeking my repentance. He did not desire the death of a sinner, but awaited my conversion.
“So I arrived in Jerusalem and spent all the days before the Feast living the same sort of life, and maybe even worse.
“When the holy Feast of the Exaltation of the Venerable Cross of the Lord arrived, I went about as before, looking for young men. At daybreak I saw that everyone was heading to the church, so I went along with the rest. When the hour of the Holy Elevation drew nigh, I was trying to enter into the church with all the people. With great effort I came almost to the doors, and attempted to squeeze inside. Although I stepped up to the threshold, it was as though some force held me back, preventing me from entering. I was brushed aside by the crowd, and found myself standing alone on the porch. I thought that perhaps this happened because of my womanly weakness. I worked my way into the crowd, and again I attempted to elbow people aside. However hard I tried, I could not enter. Just as my feet touched the church threshold, I was stopped. Others entered the church without difficulty, while I alone was not allowed in. This happened three or four times. Finally my strength was exhausted. I went off and stood in a corner of the church portico.
“Then I realized that it was my sins that prevented me from seeing the Life-Creating Wood. The grace of the Lord then touched my heart. I wept and lamented, and I began to beat my breast. Sighing from the depths of my heart, I saw above me an icon of the Most Holy Theotokos. Turning to Her, I prayed: “O Lady Virgin, who gave birth in the flesh to God the Word! I know that I am unworthy to look upon your icon. I rightly inspire hatred and disgust before your purity, but I know also that God became Man in order to call sinners to repentance. Help me, O All-Pure One. Let me enter the church. Allow me to behold the Wood upon which the Lord was crucified in the flesh, shedding His Blood for the redemption of sinners, and also for me. Be my witness before Your Son that I will never defile my body again with the impurity of fornication. As soon as I have seen the Cross of your Son, I will renounce the world, and go wherever you lead me.”
“After I had spoken, I felt confidence in the compassion of the Mother of God, and left the spot where I had been praying. I joined those entering the church, and no one pushed me back or prevented me from entering. I went on in fear and trembling, and entered the holy place.
“Thus I also saw the Mysteries of God, and how God accepts the penitant. I fell to the holy ground and kissed it. Then I hastened again to stand before the icon of the Mother of God, where I had given my vow. Bending my knees before the Virgin Theotokos, I prayed:
“‘O Lady, you have not rejected my prayer as unworthy. Glory be to God, Who accepts the repentance of sinners. It is time for me to fulfill my vow, which you witnessed. Therefore, O Lady, guide me on the path of repentance.’”
“Then I heard a voice from on high: ‘If you cross the Jordan, you will find glorious rest.’
“I immediately believed that this voice was meant for me, and I cried out to the Mother of God: ‘O Lady, do not forsake me!’
“Then I left the church portico and started on my journey. A certain man gave me three coins as I was leaving the church. With them I bought three loaves of bread, and asked the bread merchant the way to the Jordan.
“It was nine o’clock when I saw the Cross. At sunset I reached the church of St John the Baptist on the banks of the Jordan. After praying in the church, I went down to the Jordan and washed my face and hands in its water. Then in this same temple of St John the Forerunner I received the Life-Creating Mysteries of Christ. Then I ate half of one of my loaves of bread, drank water from the holy Jordan, and slept there that night on the ground. In the morning I found a small boat and crossed the river to the opposite shore. Again I prayed that the Mother of God would lead me where She wished. Then I found myself in this desert.”
Abba Zosimas asked her, “How many years have passed since you began to live in the desert?”
“‘I think,” she replied, “it is forty-seven years since I came from the Holy City.”
Abba Zosimas again asked, “What food do you find here, Mother?”
And she said, “I had with me two and a half loaves of bread when I crossed the Jordan. Soon they dried out and hardened Eating a little at a time, I finished them after a few years.”
Again Abba Zosimas asked, “Is it possible you have survived for so many years without sickness, and without suffering in any way from such a complete change?”
“Believe me, Abba Zosimas,” the woman said, “I spent seventeen years in this wilderness (after she had spent seventeen years in immorality), fighting wild beasts: mad desires and passions. When I began to eat bread, I thought of the meat and fish which I had in abundance in Egypt. I also missed the wine that I loved so much when I was in the world, while here I did not even have water. I suffered from thirst and hunger. I also had a mad desire for lewd songs. I seemed to hear them, disturbing my heart and my hearing. Weeping and striking myself on the breast, I remembered the vow I had made. At last I beheld a radiant Light shining on me from everywhere. After a violent tempest, a lasting calm ensued.
“Abba, how shall I tell you of the thoughts that urged me on to fornication? A fire seemed to burn within me, awakening in me the desire for embraces. Then I would throw myself to the ground and water it with my tears. I seemed to see the Most Holy Virgin before me, and She seemed to threaten me for not keeping my vow. I lay face downward day and night upon the ground, and would not get up until that blessed Light encircled me, dispelling the evil thoughts that troubled me.
“Thus I lived in this wilderness for the first seventeen years. Darkness after darkness, misery after misery stood about me, a sinner. But from that time until now the Mother of God helps me in everything.”
Abba Zosimas again inquired, “How is it that you require neither food, nor clothing?”
She answered, “After finishing my bread, I lived on herbs and the things one finds in the desert. The clothes I had when I crossed over the Jordan became torn and fell apart. I suffered both from the summer heat, when the blazing heat fell upon me, and from the winter cold, when I shivered from the frost. Many times I fell down upon the earth, as though dead. I struggled with various afflictions and temptations. But from that time until the present day, the power of God has guarded my sinful soul and humble body. I was fed and clothed by the all-powerful word of God, since man does not live by bread alone, but by every word proceeding from the mouth of God (Dt 8:3, Mt.4:4, Luke 4:4), and those who have put off the old man (Col 3:9) have no refuge, hiding themselves in the clefts of the rocks (Job 24:8, Heb 11:38). When I remember from what evil and from what sins the Lord delivered me, I have imperishible food for salvation.”
When Abba Zosimas heard that the holy ascetic quoted the Holy Scripture from memory, from the Books of Moses and Job and from the Psalms of David, he then asked the woman, “Mother, have you read the Psalms and other books?”
She smiled at hearing this question, and answered, “Believe me, I have seen no human face but yours from the time that I crossed over the Jordan. I never learned from books. I have never heard anyone read or sing from them. Perhaps the Word of God, which is alive and acting, teaches man knowledge by itself (Col 3:16, 1 Thess 2:13). This is the end of my story. As I asked when I began, I beg you for the sake of the Incarnate Word of God, holy Abba, pray for me, a sinner.
“Furthermore, I beg you, for the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior, tell no one what you have heard from me, until God takes me from this earth. Next year, during Great Lent, do not cross the Jordan, as is the custom of your monastery.”
Again Abba Zosimas was amazed, that the practice of his monastery was known to the holy woman ascetic, although he had not said anything to her about this.
“Remain at the monastery,” the woman continued. “Even if you try to leave the monastery, you will not be able to do so. On Great and Holy Thursday, the day of the Lord’s Last Supper, place the Life-Creating Body and Blood of Christ our God in a holy vessel, and bring it to me. Await me on this side of the Jordan, at the edge of the desert, so that I may receive the Holy Mysteries. And say to Abba John, the igumen of your community, ‘Look to yourself and your brothers (1 Tim 4:16), for there is much that needs correction. Do not say this to him now, but when the Lord shall indicate.” Asking for his prayers, the woman turned and vanished into the depths of the desert.
For a whole year Elder Zosimas remained silent, not daring to reveal to anyone what he had seen, and he prayed that the Lord would grant him to see the holy ascetic once more.
When the first week of Great Lent came again, St Zosimas was obliged to remain at the monastery because of sickness. Then he remembered the woman’s prophetic words that he would not be able to leave the monastery. After several days went by, St Zosimas was healed of his infirmity, but he remained at the monastery until Holy Week.
On Holy Thursday, Abba Zosimas did what he had been ordered to do. He placed some of the Body and Blood of Christ into a chalice, and some food in a small basket. Then he left the monastery and went to the Jordan and waited for the ascetic. The saint seemed tardy, and Abba Zosimas prayed that God would permit him to see the holy woman.
Finally, he saw her standing on the far side of the river. Rejoicing, St Zosimas got up and glorified God. Then he wondered how she could cross the Jordan without a boat. She made the Sign of the Cross over the water, then she walked on the water and crossed the Jordan. Abba Zosimas saw her in the moonlight, walking toward him. When the Elder wanted to make prostration before her, she forbade him, crying out, “What are you doing, Abba? You are a priest and you carry the Holy Mysteries of God.” Reaching the shore, she said to Abba Zosimas, “Bless me, Father.” He answered her with trembling, astonished at what he had seen. “Truly God did not lie when he promised that those who purify themselves will be like Him. Glory to You, O Christ our God, for showing me through your holy servant, how far I am from perfection.”
The woman asked him to recite both the Creed and the “Our Father.” When the prayers were finished, she partook of the Holy Mysteries of Christ. Then she raised her hands to the heavens and said, “Lord, now let Your servant depart in peace, for my eyes have seen Your salvation.”
The saint turned to the Elder and said, “Please, Abba, fulfill another request. Go now to your monastery, and in a year’s time come to the place where we first time spoke.”
He said, “If only it were possible for me to follow you and always see your holy face!”
She replied, “For the Lord’s sake, pray for me and remember my wrechedness.”
Again she made the Sign of the Cross over the Jordan, and walked over the water as before, and disappeared into the desert. Zosimas returned to the monastery with joy and terror, reproaching himself because he had not asked the saint’s name. He hoped to do so the following year.
A year passed, and Abba Zosimas went into the desert. He reached the place where he first saw the holy woman ascetic. She lay dead, with arms folded on her bosom, and her face was turned to the east. Abba Zosimas washed her feet with his tears and kissed them, not daring to touch anything else. For a long while he wept over her and sang the customary Psalms, and said the funeral prayers. He began to wonder whether the saint would want him to bury her or not. Hardly had he thought this, when he saw something written on the ground near her head: “Abba Zosimas, bury on this spot the body of humble Mary. Return to dust what is dust. Pray to the Lord for me. I reposed on the first day of April, on the very night of the saving Passion of Christ, after partaking of the Mystical Supper.”
Reading this note, Abba Zosimas was glad to learn her name. He then realized that St Mary, after receiving the Holy Mysteries from his hand, was transported instantaneously to the place where she died, though it had taken him twenty days to travel that distance. Glorifying God, Abba Zosimas said to himself, “It is time to do what she asks. But how can I dig a grave, with nothing in my hands?” Then he saw a small piece of wood left by some traveler. He picked it up and began to dig. The ground was hard and dry, and he could not dig it. Looking up, Abba Zosimas saw an enormous lion standing by the saint’s body and licking her feet. Fear gripped the Elder, but he guarded himself with the Sign of the Cross, believing that he would remain unharmed through the prayers of the holy woman ascetic. Then the lion came close to the Elder, showing its friendliness with every movement. Abba Zosimas commanded the lion to dig the grave, in order to bury St Mary’s body. At his words, the lion dug a hole deep enough to bury the body. Then each went his own way. The lion went into the desert, and Abba Zosimas returned to the monastery, blessing and praising Christ our God.
Arriving at the monastery, Abba Zosimas related to the monks and the igumen, what he had seen and heard from St Mary. All were astonished, hearing about the miracles of God. They always remembered St Mary with faith and love on the day of her repose.
Abba John, the igumen of the monastery, heeded the words of St Mary, and with the help of God corrected the things that were wrong at the monastery. Abba Zosimas lived a God-pleasing life at the monastery, reaching nearly a hundred years of age. There he finished his temporal life, and passed into life eternal.
The monks passed on the life of St Mary of Egypt by word of mouth without writing it down.
“I however,” says St Sophronius of Jerusalem (March 11), “wrote down the Life of St Mary of Egypt as I heard it from the holy Fathers. I have recorded everything, putting the truth above all else.”
“May God, Who works great miracles and bestows gifts on all who turn to Him in faith, reward those who hear or read this account, and those who copy it. May he grant them a blessed portion together with St Mary of Egypt and with all the saints who have pleased God by their pious thoughts and works. Let us give glory to God, the Eternal King, that we may find mercy on the Day of Judgment through our Lord Jesus Christ, to Whom is due all glory, honor, majesty and worship together with the Unoriginate Father, and the Most Holy and Life-Creating Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.”
oca.org

La tonsure de sœur Elisabeth

12-03-2014, Pervijze

L’Archevêché orthodoxe russe de Bruxelles et de Belgique


Avec la bénédiction de Son Eminence Simon, archevêque de Bruxelles et de la Belgique le 12 mars 2014 fut tonsurée moniale sœur Elisabeth (Wiewauters Marie-Louise) par l’archimandrite Thomas dans l’église du monastère de la Mère de Dieu, Joie des Affligés à Pervijze, Diksmuide.

Selon son propre désir et la demande de l’archimandrite elle portera le nom d’Elisabeth, sous la protection de Sainte Elisabeth Romanova, martyre et fondatrice de l’ordre des Saintes Marthe et Marie.

AXIA!


http://www.archiepiskopia.be/

The Ascetic and the Thief


  

There was an ascetic elder and anchorite, who had been leading an ascetic life in a desert place for seventy years, in fasting, chastity and vigil. Although he labored for God for so many years, he was never accounted worthy to receive a vision or revelation from God. Thinking about this and bearing this in mind he said, "Perhaps my ascesis is not pleasing to God for some reason I do not know, and my work is unacceptable; and on account of this I am not able to receive a revelation or behold any mystery."
Contemplating these things the elder began to ask and supplicate God even more, praying and saying, "Lord, if my ascesis is pleasing to you and you accept my deeds, I - a sinner and unworthy one - ask of you, to grant even unto me a drop of your gifts, that I may learn from the appearance of a mystery that you have heard my prayer, so that emboldened and enlightened I may live out my ascetical life." As the holy elder was praying and asking these things, he heard the voice of God say to him, "If you desire to see My glory, go to the inner desert and mysteries will be revealed to you."

When the elder heard this, he went out of his cell and went far from there. A thief then came across him who, upon seeing the abba, violently rushed at him desiring to kill him. And when he caught him he said to him, "It's a good thing I ran into you, Elder, so that I can finish my job and be saved. For we thieves have this custom and law and belief: that he who commits one hundred murders will surely go to paradise. So I, having labored hard, have murdered ninety-nine, and lacking one more I have tried hard to finish my hundredth and be saved. So I really owe you and thank you, because today I will delight in paradise because of you."
And when the elder heard the thief say these things, he was beside himself and was afraid at this sudden and hopeless temptation. And turning the eyes of his mind towards God and reflecting on these things he said, "Is this Your glory, Lord and Master, which You promised to show me Your servant? What counsel is this You have given me, to leave my cell and be informed by this dreadful mystery? With such gifts you pay the recompense for the ascesis which I underwent for Your sake? Now I truly know, Lord, that all the labor of my ascesis was in vain; and every one of my prayers before You was considered as abhorrent and a desecration. However, I thank you for Your philanthropy, Lord, that, as You know best, You chastise my unworthiness, as is needed, because of my uncountable sins and you have given me over to the hands of a thief and murderer."

Saying these things the pitiful elder thirsted greatly and said to the thief, "My child, since I am a sinner God has given me over to you for you to kill me and for you to have your way, as you have desired, and I to be deprived of life, as the evil man that I am. For this I ask you to do me a favor - a slight wish - and give me a little water to drink, and then cut my head off." When the thief had listened to the elder, willing to fulfill the elder's wish he put his sword back into its sheath, as he had been holding it out. And he pulled out a flask from his bosom and went to a river that was close by so as to fill it up and take to the elder to drink. And there where he went to fill the flask, he gave up his soul and died. 
So, when a little time passed and the thief did not come, the elder pondered and said, "Perhaps he was sleepy and fell asleep and that is why he is slow in returning and I will be able flee to my cell. But seeing as I am old, I am afraid, since I do not have the strength to run, and as one weak I will become tired and he will catch up with me. Then I will anger him and he will want to torture me without pity, cutting me in many pieces while still alive. Better I do not leave, but go to the river to see what he is doing." So the elder went thinking about such things and found him dead, and when he saw him he marveled and was taken aback. And lifting his hands toward heaven, he said, "Lord Who loves mankind, if You do not reveal to me this mystery, I will not lower my hands. Therefore, pity my toil and reveal to me this thing."
As the elder prayed these things, an angel of the Lord came and said to him, "Do you see, Abba, this dead man who lies before you? For your sake he was taken by sudden death, so that you may escape and he not kill you. Therefore, bury him as one saved. For obeying you by returning his murderous sword to its sheath in order to bring you water to quench the flame of your thirst, he pacified the wrath of God and was accepted as a worker of obedience. And his divulgence of the ninety-nine murders was counted as confession. Therefore, bury him and consider him among the saved. And by this, know the expanse of God's philanthropy and compassion. And rejoicing, go to your cell and be avid in your prayers, and do not feel sorrow and say that you are a sinner and deprived of revelation. For behold, God has revealed a mystery to you. And know this too, that all the toil of your ascesis is acceptable before God; for there is no toil that is done for God's sake that does not come before Him." 
Having heard this the elder buried the dead man.

From a Gerontikon manuscript, from the Holy Monastery of Philotheou

Source: Hagiorite Witness - a Trimonthly publication of the Holy Monastery of Xeropotamou.
June - August 1989, volume 4

Aussprechbares und Unaussprechbares, Erkennbares und Unerkennbares.



Hl. Johannes von Damaskus
(Aus seinem Werk: Genaue Darlegung des orthodoxen Glaubens)

Wer von Gott reden oder hören will, muß sich klar sein, daß in der Gotteslehre wie in der Heilsveranstaltung weder alles unaussprechbar noch alles aussprechbar, weder alles unerkennbar noch alles erkennbar ist. 
Etwas anderes ist das Erkennbare und etwas anderes, das Aussprechbare, wie etwas anderes das Reden und etwas anderes das Erkennen ist. Darum kann man vieles von dem, was sich von Gott schwer erkennen läßt, nicht in den rechten sprachlichen Ausdruck bringen.
Vielmehr sehen wir uns genötigt, das, was über uns hinausliegt, nach unserer [menschlichen] Art auszudrücken. So z. B. reden wir bei Gott von Schlaf, Zorn, Sorglosigkeit, Händen und Füßen und dergleichen.
Daß Gott ohne Anfang und Ende ist, ewig und immerwährend, ungeschaffen, unwandelbar, unveränderlich, einfach, nicht zusammengesetzt, unkörperlich, unsichtbar, ungreifbar, unbegrenzt, unendlich, unbegreiflich, uneingeschränkt, unfaßbar, gut, gerecht, Bildner aller Geschöpfe, allmächtig, allherrschend, allsehend, allsorgend, Machthaber und Richter — das erkennen und bekennen wir.

Und daß nur ein Gott ist, d. h, eine Wesenheit; daß er in drei Personen erkannt wird und ist, nämlich im Vater, Sohn und Hl. Geist; daß der Vater, Sohn und der Hl. Geist in allem eins sind, ausgenommen das Ungezeugtsein, das Gezeugtsein und das Hervorgehen; daß der eingeborene Sohn und Logos Gottes und Gott "aus herzinnigem Erbarmen“8 unseres Heiles wegen durch den Willen des Vaters und die Mitwirkung des allheiligen Geistes ohne Samen empfangen, unbefleckt aus der heiligen Jungfrau und Gottesgebärerin Maria durch den Hl. Geist geboren worden und als vollkommener Mensch aus ihr hervorgegangen ist; daß derselbe vollkommener Gott und vollkommener Mensch zugleich ist, [bestehend] aus zwei Naturen, Gottheit und Menschheit, und in zwei Naturen, die vernünftig, wollend, wirkend, selbstmächtig, mit einem Wort vollkommen sind, eine jede in der ihr zukommenden Bestimmtheit und Beschaffenheit, in der Gottheit und Menschheit nämlich, aber in einer zusammengesetzten Person [Hypostase]; daß er hungerte und dürstete und müde ward, gekreuzigt wurde, drei Tage lang Tod und Grab kostete, in den Himmel aufstieg, von wo er auch zu uns gekommen und am Ende wiederkommen wird — dafür sind Zeuge die Hl. Schrift und der ganze Chor der Heiligen [= der Väter].

Was aber das Wesen Gottes ist, oder wie er in allem ist, oder wie der eingeborene Sohn und Gott sich selbst entäusserte und aus jungfräulichem Blute Mensch wurde, durch ein anderes als das Naturgesetz gebildet, oder wie er trockenen Fußes auf dem Wasser gewandelt, das erkennen wir nicht und können es nicht sagen. Es ist also, abgesehen von dem, was uns von Gott durch die göttlichen Aussprüche des Alten und Neuen Testamentes verkündet oder mitgeteilt und geoffenbart worden ist, nicht möglich, etwas von Gott zu sagen oder überhaupt zu denken.

Der Heilige Johannes Chrysostomus (Goldmund) über das Gebet


„Das höchste Gut liegt im Gebet und im Dialog mit Gott, weil es einer intimen Vereinigung mit Gott entspricht: So wie die Augen aufleuchten, wenn sie das Licht betrachten, so erleuchtet das unsägliche Licht Gottes auch die auf ihn gerichtete Seele. Natürlich darf das Gebet nicht aus reiner Routine erfolgen, sondern mit dem Herzen; es soll sich nicht auf einen konkreten Zeitpunkt oder auf bestimmte Uhrzeiten beschränken, sondern Tag und Nacht fortgesetzt werden, ohne Unterlass.“
„Wir sollten unseren Geist nicht nur beim Nachsinnen während der Gebetszeiten zu Gott erheben, sondern unsere Sehnsucht nach Gott und unsere Gedanken an ihn auch mit anderen Tätigkeiten verbinden: wenn wir uns um die Armen kümmern oder wenn wir uns auf nützliche Weise freigiebig zeigen, und zwar so, dass sich alles, was wir tun, in eine süße Speise für unseren Herrn verwandelt, gewürzt mit dem Salz der Liebe Gottes. Wir können aber nur dann immerwährend Gottes Überfluss genießen, wenn wir ihm viel Zeit widmen.“

Das Gebet ist das Licht der Seele, die wahre Erkenntnis Gottes, der Mittler zwischen Gott und den Menschen. Durch das Gebet erheben wir die Seele bis in den Himmel, um dort auf unbeschreibliche Weise Gott zu umarmen und dabei, wie ein weinendes Kind, das nach seiner Mutter ruft, die heilige Milch herbei zu sehnen: Im Gebet legen wir unsere eigenen Wünsche dar, und wir erhalten Gaben, die besser sind als alles Sichtbare.
„Das Gebet dient der ehrfürchtigen Vermittlung vor Gott, erweitert die Seele und kommt ihrer Bedürftigkeit nach Liebe nach. Ich rede dabei vom wahren Gebet, nicht nur von bloßen Worten.
Das Gebet ist ein Wunsch Gottes, eine nicht in Worte zu fassende Frömmigkeit, nicht von den Menschen ausgeübt, sondern durch die göttliche Gnade ermöglicht, und der Apostel sagt darüber auch:
„Denn wir wissen nicht, worum wir in rechter Weise beten sollen, der Geist selber tritt jedoch für uns ein mit Seufzen, das wir nicht in Worte fassen können».“
„Wenn du in dir jene Behausung wieder errichten möchtest, die Gott sich im ersten Menschen erbaute, dann schmücke dich mit Bescheidenheit und Demut, lasse das Licht der Gerechtigkeit von dir ausstrahlen; schmücke dein Wesen mit guten Taten, wie mit reinem Gold, und verschönere es mit dem Glauben und der Pracht der Seele, wie mit Mauern und Steinen; und über alles, wie um ein  Gebäude mit einer Spitze zu krönen, stellen wir das Gebet, um Gott somit ein perfektes Haus zu errichten, in dem wir ihn wie in einem königlichen und prachtvollen Wohnsitz empfangen können, denn durch seine Gnade ist es, als hinge sein eigenes Abbild im Tempel der Seele».“

www.prophetelias.com

THE NATIVITY OF THE MOTHER OF GOD CONVENT, ASTEN, THE NETHERLANDS

WESTERN EUROPEANS IN SEARCH OF TRUTH


The sunsets and sunrises in this rural, southern part of Holland emanate mystical shades of effervescent pink, a manifestation which has drawn many an artist to these lowlands. And if one were to search all over Holland, it would be difficult to find a place more suitable for a monastery than this patch of land, an unusual expanse in a densely-populated country. The usual markings of Dutch countryside apply here—lush green fields, fat, shiny, black and white cows, tidy brick farm houses with lace in the windows, canals, and undisturbed horizons. It is quiet, green, and fertile, with a faint wisp of the sea in the air.
Carefully preserved nature, local tradition, cleanliness, all set the European stage for a comfortable, peaceful life. But what is all that without the grace God? Only a landscape, or a still-life. In Asten, however, a roadside chapel in the Russian style, with cupola and eight-pointed cross, stands out against the flat horizon. And the pinkish-purple effervescence radiates somehow not only from the sun, but from the heavens; for in this place there is an Orthodox monastery, dedicated to the Nativity of the Mother of God.
The founder and Abbess of this small community is Mother Maria, who was born in Den Hague. Mother Maria is an edifying example of one who sought and found, asked, and received. The visible result is this convent.
Born at the end of the Second World War, a time of great hardship for the Netherlands, Mother Maria describes her upbringing as conducive to a Christian outlook on life.
“I was born and raised at the outskirts of The Hague. Behind our house were woods, with dunes beyond. It was a beautiful area, and it inspired the beginning of my love for nature and its Creator. Although I was not raised as a believer, I grew up in a loving family, where we were taught to respect people and nature. In my early childhood I was influenced by the Bible stories we studied in our religion classes in primary school, and later, after experiences of my own, I began to think about the big questions of life: ‘Is there a God? Is it true that He hears our prayers?' My mother sometimes attended the Dutch Reformed Church. I began to go with her, and attend the Sunday school. Later I had a Roman Catholic friend who sang in a Byzantine Catholic Church choir. When I was fourteen, I also began to sing in that choir, in Church Slavonic, at the Liturgy. At about the same time, I visited the Orthodox Convent of St. John the Forerunner in The Hague. Here I became Orthodox, at the age of eighteen.”
Russian Orthodoxy came to Holland in the 1940's and 50's, through this community in The Hague, with the unsuspecting help of the Catholic Church. When the communist revolution swept over Russia, a diaspora formed in Western Europe which was to help introduce the Orthodox Faith to the local people. Christianity in Russia was being replaced by militant atheism, a fact which caused the Catholic Church to begin its fervent prayers for the Christianization of Russia.
“Of course, the Catholic Church envisioned a Catholic Russia, but many people were sincerely concerned about Russia's fate. This is what inspired the formation of a Catholic ministry to Russian refugees, and the opening of a monastery in Chevetogne, Belgium, by Benedictine Catholic monks who had studied in the Vatican's Rusicon. The new monastery was supposed to observe the Byzantine liturgical rites. These were missionary-minded people, ready to go to Russia and preach; but it became clear that their preaching was not needed there. The ministry helped many Russian refugees; however, it could be argued that they were a bit deceptive at the outset—they did not tell these refugees that their organization was Catholic. They looked Orthodox, even used the Church Slavonic language in the Services. Nevertheless, many other people were drawn to the unique monastery in Belgium, and once they saw clearly the difference between the Catholic and Orthodox Churches, they chose Orthodoxy.”
Amongst such were Bishop Jacob and Archimandrite Adrian of The Hague—possibly the first Dutchmen to become Orthodox. They were Catholic monks who began to study Orthodox literature, and discovered that the teachings of the Church Fathers had only been preserved in the Orthodox Church. They were received into the Orthodox Church in 1940 by Bishop Dionisy of the Moscow Patriarchate. Later they would become acquainted with Archbishop John (Maximovitch), who gave them much encouragement. Fr. Adrian was ordained a priest in 1952, and Fr. Jacob was consecrated a bishop in 1965. Their spiritual daughters formed the small community in The Hague, in a building which was formerly a Catholic Convent. These sisters were Dutch, and there were no Russians in the community. “Most Russians,” as Mother Maria says, “simply could not understand why Dutch people would turn to Orthodoxy. It did not make sense to them at the time.”
Mother MariaMother Maria
Mother Maria would enter that convent as a novice three years after her conversion, in 1965.
“When I was 21 years old I became a novice in the Hague Monastery. Why? This decision did not come to fruition in a day. I had a longing for monastic life, for Church Services, a growing desire to dedicate myself to a community, to a life of simplicity and prayer. Of course, I read a lot about this, but most important for me were my trips to the Lesna Mother of God Convent in France.[1]I went there during practically every summer vacation. I attended all the Services, went to Divine Liturgy every morning, helped the sisters in the garden, in the kitchen, and in the candle-making workshop, and even learned to make prayer ropes. There I learned some Russian and Church Slavonic. There, the desire to become a nun unnoticeably ripened within me.
“Especially important for me were the final three years before entering the monastery, when I was faced with the decision about whether or not to get married. I was becoming more and more aware of the power of prayer, the meaning of life in a monastery, even the significance of the heremetic life, and thus lost my interest in “worldly life.” They say that during difficult times, people seek a worry-free existence in monasteries. I do not believe this. Monastery life is too hard to be called “worry-free.” But you can see how in our own times, there are people in Greece, Western Europe, and America who consciously leave a comfortable life in Western society for the sake of monastic asceticism and labor.”
Although Mother Maria's search was first of all for monastic life, she also discusses peoples' search for a spiritual father, and for a monastery:
“If a person finds what he is seeking, and his spiritual father is the Superior of a monastery, then he will likely join that monastery. A monk is under the spiritual guidance of his monastery's spiritual father. This could be the Superior, or some one else. When the spiritual father dies, his position is usually assumed by one of his spiritual children. Monastery sisters also have a spiritual father, equal in importance to their mother Abbess. When he dies, or is for one reason or another no long able spiritually guide the sisters, the monastery must find another spiritual father who will be suitable for the traditions of that monastery.”
Having been founded in the Netherlands by the Dutch and for the Dutch, the convent in The Hague had its own “flavor,” unlike what one would find in a traditionally Orthodox country. This difference led Mother Maria to a new search—for traditional monasticism.
“As for me, I joined the monastery in The Hague because it was the only Orthodox monastery in Holland. I had only one, simple thought: if God has seen fit to call me, a Dutch girl, to monasticism, then it should be in a monastery in Holland. Looking back, I can say that this was the right decision for me, although my life went in a different direction from what I could have expected in those days. The monastic life in The Hague was very difficult for me. The idea there was to have a monastery in the center of town, so that anyone who wished could become acquainted with Orthodoxy. It was a monastery with a parish and just a few sisters, who went to work at secular jobs every day in civilian clothing, in order to earn a living. At that time several brothers also lived there, each of whom later found his own path. I remember Fr. Timothy, who reposed this year (then his name was David) having lived thirty years on Mt. Athos; also Fr. Pachomius, (also recently reposed) who founded the monastery of St. Hubert (in southern Holland); and Fr. Thomas, who founded a monastery in Belgium.
“I left The Hague monastery because it was hard for me to work during the day in the town, and be a novice only during evenings and weekends. I was not yet tonsured a nun.”
In 1973, the young Dutch novice looked to Serbia for monasticism and Orthodox spirituality, and entered Zica Monastery, near Kraljevo. St. Justin Popovich, the spiritual father of the monastery of Celije, was still alive at the time, and Mother Maria remembers his prophetic words to her when she went to receive his blessing. He told her that she had come to Serbia to learn monasticism, but would later return to Holland.
“I was in the monastery in Serbia for two years, and had to accustom myself to a very strict, traditional monastic life, in the company of sisters with whom I was very happy. This was a transitional period before my as yet unknown life in Greece. The spiritual sons of the great elder Justin Popovich, now bishops Athanasius Jeftich and Ireneus Bulovich, advised me to go to Greece in order to make my final decision.”
The Hodigitria chapelThe Hodigitria chapel
As a Dutch citizen, Mother Maria was not free to remain indefinitely in communist Yugoslavia, so she heeded the elders' advice, and in 1975 went to Greece.
“In the free atmosphere of Greece, I was able to breathe more easily. Soon, I felt at home. The influence of Mt. Athos was very strong, especially that of the Kolivades,[2] who were calling people to receive Holy Communion more often than just once a year during Great Lent, (or once a month, like the monastics in Serbia at that time). I found a living tradition there, preserved for hundreds of years in the monasteries. In a certain sense, I had to start all over from the beginning, considering the differences in tradition and mentality. I lived with the sense that I had found my place, for the rest of my life…”
Mother Maria lived in a monastery in the Peloponnesus, near Sparta, where she received the monastic tonsure. Meanwhile, she made great progress in her study of the Greek language.
In 1982, she visited Holland again for the first time in years, where her Orthodox friends persuaded her to open a convent in her native land. She returned to Greece in order to prepare herself for this undertaking. Mother Maria settled temporarily in a monastery of the diocese of Drama, in the north of Greece, and took a course at the University of Thessalonica on the translation of liturgical texts, taught by the late Professor I. Fountoulis. The time was approaching when she would be leaving Greece, her home of eleven years, in order to help nurture the growth of Orthodoxy in Western Europe.
“I, myself, feel at home in a Greek monastery, but I can understand why it would not be that way for everyone. It is no wonder that new Orthodox monasteries are being opened in the West. But it is very important for such monasteries to have connections with a country which is traditionally Orthodox, and with its monasteries.
“Throughout history there have been monastics who, having spent several years in Greece, returned to their homelands. Such Russian fathers as St. Anthony of the Kiev Caves and St. Nilus of Sora are examples. In recent times we could cite Fr. Placide, who became Orthodox on Mt. Athos and returned to France, where he started a monastery. Another example is an Australian of Greek origin, who became a nun in Greece in 1983, and ten years later was sent back to Australia, a country with several million Greek Orthodox, in order to establish a monastery for women. There is also Fr. Vasily (Grolimund), of Swiss-German origin, who founded a monastery in Germany after living for ten years on Mt. Athos.
“The history of Elder Ephraim's American monasteries is not much different—at the request of a number of Greek Americans, he chose a group of Greek monks and nuns to organize monasteries in America according to the Athonite rule. In less than twenty years Fr. Ephraim founded eighteen monasteries, and he hopes before he dies to found two more, so that they might be equal in number to the monasteries of Mt. Athos—twenty. Most of the abbots and abbesses of these American monasteries are Greeks, or are of Greek origin; for example, Fr. Paisius, the Abbot of the monastery in Arizona, is a Greek who was born in Canada.
“In 1986, after taking counsel with monastic fathers, and of course, with the blessing of my Abbess and the local bishop, I returned to Holland. Fr. Pachomius of the Monastery of St. Elias took me in, and I lived in a garden house of his until pious people offered to buy an old farmhouse in Asten in 1988. Then in 1989 I moved there to establish a monastery.”
One of the fathers with whom Mother Maria counseled was Archimandrite Sophrony (Sakharov) of the Monastery of St. John the Forerunner in Essex, England.
“Two years before I returned to Holland I was already preparing for my return, visiting various monasteries, including Essex. My meeting with Fr. Sophrony was very significant for me. I particularly remember his advice not to be a nun in a parish—it is better that a monastery be separate from a parish. Furthermore he advised me to look for a place with enough space for the monastery to grow. He also spoke of the idea of ‘exile.' In spiritual life, it is important for one to leave his homeland, as did Abraham; to become a wanderer on the earth, as was Jesus Christ. Fr. Sophrony asked me if it weren't better for me to remain a stranger in a strange land. My answer was simple and honest: ‘Father, as an Orthodox nun I am more of a stranger in Holland than in Greece!'”
The first few years of her life in Asten were mostly spent alone. It took a while for sisters to come. One of the oldest sisters of the monastery came to her from the United States, and then others of Greek origin came from England. She now has two Dutch sisters.
Fr. MatthewFr. Matthew
“There are eight sisters here, of all different nationalities, and our priest, Fr. Matthew, makes another. They all came here in different ways; each has her own history and fate. That we are all from different countries is something which makes our monastery unique. We speak various languages; have different life experiences, mentalities, and traditions, etc. Nevertheless, we are boldly trying to form a community.”
What makes this possible? “I think,” says Mother Maria, “that this is only possible when the Gospels are the foundation of our lives, when our monastic ideals are alive, and when we humbly and thankfully travel the centuries-old, holy, and blessed path of traditional monastic life. Fortunately, we are closely connected with monasteries in Greece and Cyprus, in England and in France, and we feel we are a living branch of the great tree of Orthodox monasticism.”
This synthesis is apparent in all aspects of the sisters' daily life. Firmly planted upon Dutch soil, the monastery's meals are according to Dutch customs, and the language used in daily life as well as in Church Services is Dutch, a large part of the liturgical texts having been translated by Fr. Adrian of The Hague. But English enters in here and there, and Greek is sometimes used. Mother Maria even gives instruction in the Greek language to the sisters, if they have the desire to learn it. The Dutch are generally very capable of mastering foreign languages, and Mother Maria is no exception. She has also been integrating more and more Byzantine music into the Church Services. And of course, on the monastery's patronal feast day, the busloads of Greek immigrants are a cheerful reminder that the monastery is forming according to the Greek tradition.
On a daily basis, however, the regular visitors are Dutch. Bible study classes are conducted weekly for their benefit.
“Dutch people are generally attracted to Orthodoxy by its beauty—the icons, the music. They are also attracted by its stability. The Vatican II Council caused great disturbance amongst Catholics in Europe, while Orthodoxy offers an unchanging tradition.
“Protestants come looking for the Church of the first centuries of Christianity, which is, of course, Orthodoxy's claim. Many people come through personal contacts, and through reading books. Bishop Kallistos Ware's book, The Orthodox Church, did much for Orthodoxy in Europe, as well as the writings of Vladyka Anthony Bloom, and Fr. Sophrony. Naturally, nowadays very many people are becoming Orthodox through mixed marriages.
“Most people are converted to Orthodoxy through the Russian Church rather than the Greek, because the Greek immigrants come here with the intention of earning money and returning to Greece. The immigrants from Russia and Eastern Europe come to live permanently. However, there are many cases where a Dutch person goes to Greece for a sunny vacation, sees the piety in the villages, steps into a beautiful church, then looks for that Church in Holland. Orthodoxy is definitely growing in Europe.”
     The sisters of the convent.                         

The Asten convent is also visited by members of the “new” immigration from formerly communist countries, who are now becoming parishioners in local Orthodox churches, where there are many Dutch converts. The immigrants are learning to live in a very different society.
“If there is good communication, this can make for a good combination—in theory, anyway. It is a challenge—God's challenge. As far as infrastructure and activities are concerned, however, the Coptic Church is better organized here than the Orthodox.
“It can take ten or more years for a Dutch person to become Orthodox. The priest is also cautious, testing a person's stability and intention for about one year before baptism.”
There has been talk in the past of organizing a “Dutch Orthodox Church,” but Mother Maria believes it is too early.
“There are difficult historical considerations. What makes things complicated is that Western Europe is historically the diocese of Rome. With the return to Orthodoxy—that is, of the people, but not of the Roman Church itself—we have the uncanonical situation of more than one bishop in a city. In France and in the U.S. there are Orthodox committees (such as SCOBA), where bishops meet from all different canonical jurisdictions, and work together on issues. So in Holland, the Orthodox are at least able to work together, and a natural ‘local Orthodoxy' can form.”
This brings us back to the little chapel on the road outside the convent, which “came by itself” in an unlikely manner. Here is how it happened.
A certain Dutch artist in the area had an original idea: art along the highway. He received permission from the highway authorities to construct some objects of art at rest stops along the main thoroughfares of Holland. In order to decide upon just what he should construct, he took a survey of the category of driver who most often passed through these parts. The main category at a certain rest stop just happened to be Russian auto dealers, and he asked them what they would like to see. The answer was — a little chapel. The artist did his research on the subject, and a wooden structure was built, a chapel dedicated to the Mother of God, Hodigitria, or “She who shows the Way,” complete with an icon on the inside, and a prayer for travelers printed on the wall in both Dutch and Church Slavonic.
Now, the highway authorities had consented to a temporary exhibit, and not a permanent fixture, so the chapel had to be removed. Fortunately, someone told them about the “Orthodox Klooster” in Asten, and they called Mother Maria. She happily consented to take the chapel.
But one has to imagine the extremely strict zoning laws and codes in the Netherlands in order to understand Mother Maria's second thoughts on the subject. One complaint from her conservative neighbors could stifle any future building projects on the monastery's grounds. She thought for a while, and then reached for the telephone to call the authorities and tell them that she had changed her mind. They had already set the date for the chapel's delivery, so she had to cancel it in time…
Yes, the date was… and then she remembered. The date of arrival was the feast of the icon of the Mother of God, Hodigitria! She cancelled her call instead, not daring to obstruct God's Providence and the good will of the Mother of God herself.
Thus, in ways outside our own efforts, only requiring our consent, can a “local Orthodoxy” form where there is neither Greek nor Jew, Barbarian nor Scythian, but Christ in all and for all (cf. Col. 3:11). “Thus,” says Mother Maria, “do we live in this corner of the secularized, Western world, preserved by the prayers of many spiritual fathers, under the protection of the Most Holy Mother of God, blessing the Lord in all the days of our life….”

[1] The Convent of the Lesna Mother of God, in Provemont, near Paris, was formed by Russian emigrant nuns from what is now eastern Poland. It has been a revered place of pilgrimage for the Russian Church in Exile.
[2] The Kolivades was a movement which arose on Mt. Athos during the mid-18th century as a reaction to the decline in monastic life.
Nun Cornelia (Rees)
http://www.pravoslavie.ru/

Gebet zu Beginn eines jeglichen Werkes, das direkt oder indirekt dem öffentlichen Wohle dient


Herr Jesus Christus, Du unser menschgewordener Gott, der Du zu unserem Heile Mühen und Beschwerden erduldet und in uns die Voraussetzungen zu diesem Werke gewirkt hast, Du hast die heiligen Apostel von ihrer Arbeit weg in Dienst genommen, damit Du den Dienst segnest und heiligest.
Du selbst, o Herr, der Du der erste Arbeiter und Werkmeister unter uns bist, segne uns und dieses unser Werk, das wir heute in Deinem Namen beginnen, damit wir es rasch und glücklich zu Ende führen. Erleuchte unsere Gedanken und stärke unsere Arme, damit wir stets das Rechte tun und Taten des Lichtes vollbringen zum Wohle Deines Volkes und zur Ehre des Vaters und des Sohnes und des Heiligen Geistes, jetzt und immerdar und in alle Ewigkeit. Amen


http://pfarre-graz.orthodox.ru/

Μονή Σίμωνος Πέτρας - Simonopetra Monastery Psalm 8

AN INEFFABLE FRAGRANCE

It is impossible to describe how exquisite and noble are the podvizhniki! These people—although they bear the traces of harsh struggles, although their bodies are so withered and emaciated—have a fragrance and grace imprinted on their wondrous souls.
    
1976. The month of August—July 22 Old Style. The Altar Feast (Panegyr) of St. Mary Magdalene in Simonopetra. How they love this saint in her monastery! Her left hand is kept here—her wrist, palm, and fingers—with the skin and tendons. Its temperature holds steadily at 98.6 °F/37° C—proof that this is the hand of a living witness of the Resurrected Christ, living proof of the fact that “death hath no more dominion over” her, either (Rom. 6:9).
At the All-Night Vigil, they showed me a stasidion practically in the center. Next to me there was a grey-haired little starets. He stood as straight as a candle, without stirring. During the course of the service he weakened—he was obviously tired. Most likely, he was sleeping. But not relaxed as people usually sleep. His state was distinct and interesting: his head was leaning on his hand, his eyes almost shut. From time to time you could hear him snore a little, gently and peacefully. But every time the singers would make a mistake, he would come into action and without delay correct it. And then return to … his rest. “The body sleeps out of nature’s need, but his heart keeps awake out of its great love.” And truly, his mind keeps vigil. This man, it seems, lives in another world.
We came to the exapostilarion All the fathers stood, took off theirskufias, and bowed low when the serving priest performed the litany over the relics of the great saint and protectress of the monastery, which were lying on a silver tray. Soon the veneration began—I was stunned… I watched what the others did, and I felt that I wasn’t with them. I tried to understand what to do and how to do it correctly, but I couldn’t touch the secret. Everyone around me, I felt, was experiencing an event that I had no idea about. The choir intensified the celebration. The monks showed by their whole appearance that they were experiencing something the likes of which I could not perceive. The only thing that I was able to do was to follow what was going on—superficially and with curiosity. Soon the starets standing next to me left his place and goes in his turn up to the relics. Making three prostrations, he kissed them, was anointed by the priest, and with deep emotion he returned to his stasidion.
“You go, too,” he says to me, “don’t be shy—today the Saint is fragrant. Receive some of her grace.”
I did what he said and went up to the relics. This is what, apart from everything else, the others had done, too. But my doubts stayed with me. I didn’t particularly believe in all this. I went up in a reverie. And I was astonished by the fragrance. I had an insatiable desire to confirm the statement of this fact from an investigative point of view and to venerate the relics again. But I felt awkward—it was an inappropriate time for experiments! I returned to my place—physically—but mentally I stayed with the Saint. My questions multiplied, but my faith did not increase. It was the “sign” that I had been asking for, but it wasn’t the “sign” that I needed. I couldn’t believe in it, but again, I couldn’t imagine that the monks were lying. They had such pure countenances, and they experienced what was going on without reasoning or arguments. I had no reason to suspect them of lying.
“Geronda, how does this happen?” I asked. “Maybe out of piety the fathers sprinkled a little perfume? Or are the relics themselves fragrant?”
“Here reverence is ruined as soon as you sprinkle perfume. Reverence is increased when you receive the ineffable fragrance in simplicity. The Holy Mountain is full of such occurrences.”
“What does 'ineffable fragrance' mean?”
“If we sprinkled a little perfume from a perfume store, then it would be “fragrance.” Now, when we don’t sprinkle anything but the fragrance pours out all by itself, that is called 'ineffable fragrance'.
I bowed and kissed his hand. He himself also was fragrant, as if he had been handling incense. The all-night vigil continued—it lasted twelve hours.
A monk whom I knew came up to me:
“Did you get a blessing from Elder Arsenios?”
“Who is that?” I asked, not having any idea who he was referring to.
“The little old man who was standing next to you.”
“The little old man who was sleeping next to me,” I said to myself.
“He has the 'gift of not washing', added the monk. “It has already been ten years since he has washed his face and he is fragrant all over. He is as pure as a tear. He lives in Kalamitse, in a cell alone, an hour and a half walk from here. Run, before he leaves!”
I did not catch up with him. He had withdrawn to his cell before the beginning of the festive trapeza. He was filled with the Divine service. He didn't need food or words in order to fill his soul. He stood, sat, drifted off for twelve hours, and still every second breathed in the sweetness of the all-night vigil. He hath chosen the good part, which will not be taken away from him (Luke 10:42).
From: A Still Small Voice by Metropolitan Nicholas of Mesogaia and Lavreotiki, Phoni avras leptis, Athens 2006, pp. 139–144. Translated from the Russian version on Pravoslavie.ru.
Translation by Dimitra Dwelley


Gedächtnis unserer gottgeweihten Mutter Maria der Ägypterin

Am 1. des Monats April und am 5. Sonntag der Großen Fastenzeit 

                                         

Die Hl. Maria wurde im 5. Jh. in Ägypten geboren. Im Alter von 12 Jahren verließ sie ihre Eltern, um nach Alexandria zu gehen, wo sie 17 Jahre lang in Ausschweifung und größter Sittenlosigkeit lebte.
Ihren Lebensunterhalt bestritt sie aus der Flachsspinnerei und Almosen, und obwohl keine Not sie dazu zwang wie so viele andere unglückliche Frauen, gab sie sich jedwelchem Manne hin, wie getrieben von einem unauslöschlichen Verlangen. 

Eines Tages begegnete sie einer Gruppe von libyschen und ägyptischen Pilgern, die sich zum Hafen begaben, um sich einzuschiffen ins Heilige Land. 
Sie folgte ihnen, bestieg ihrerseits das Schiff und bezahlte die Überfahrt, indem sie ihren Leib hingab. In Jerusalem angekommen, folgte sie der Menge, die sich zur Basilika der Auferstehung drängte, am Tag der Erhöhung des Kostbaren Kreuzes. Doch als sie die Schwelle erreichte, wurde sie trotz aller Bemühungen von einer unsichtbaren Kraft gehindert, das Heiligtum zu betreten, während die anderen Pilger ohne Schwierigkeit eintraten. 
Allein zurückgeblieben in einem Winkel des Außen-Narthex, begann sie zu begreifen, dass es die Unreinheit ihres Lebenswandels war, die sie hinderte, sich dem Heiligen Holz zu nähern. Da vergoss sie heiße Tränen, schlug sich an die Brust und betete mit Schmerzen zu der Ikone der Gottesmutter, die sich dort befand: „O Jungfrau und Herrin, die du Gott im Fleisch geboren hast und rein bist an Seele und Leib, ich weiß, dass ich nicht würdig bin, meine Augen zu erheben zu deinem Bild, denn befleckt wie ich bin, muss ich dir Abscheu einflößen. Doch der aus dir geborene Gott ward Mensch, um Sünder zur Umkehr zu rufen, deshalb hilf mir und erlaube mir, die Kirche zu betreten, damit ich Sein Kreuz verehre. Ich verspreche dir — sobald ich das Kreuz gesehen habe, will ich der Welt und ihren Lüsten entsagen und dem Weg des Heils folgen, den du mir zeigen wirst. 
Da spürte sie, wie jene Kraft, die sie am Betreten der Kirche gehindert hatte, von ihr wich, und sie ging und verehrte das Heilige Kreuz mit tiefer Ehrfurcht. Danach kehrte sie zur Ikone der Gottesmutter zurück, wo sie eine Stimme vernahm, die zu ihr sagte: „Wenn du den Jordan überquerst, wirst du Ruhe finden.“ Da trat sie aus der Kirche, kaufte mit dem Almosen, das sie von einem Pilger empfangen hatte, drei Brote und zog zur Stadt hinaus Richtung Jordan. Am Abend kam sie bei der Kirche des Hl. Johannes des Täufers an, wusch sich im Strom und empfing die HI.Mysterien. Dann aß sie die Hälfte eines der Brote und schlief am Ufer ein. Am anderen Tag überquerte sie den Jordan und lebte von da an in der Wüste, ganze 47 Jahre lang, ohne irgendeinem Lebewesen zu begegnen, weder Mensch noch Tier, sich am Leben erhaltend mit den kargen Früchten der Natur jener Einöde. 

In den ersten 17 Jahren hatte sie schwer zu kämpfen, nicht nur gegen Hunger, Durst, Hitze und Kälte, sondern auch gegen die heftigen Angriffe der Leidenschaften und die Erinnerung an ihre Sünden. In solchen Augenblicken der Anfechtung pflegte sie sich niederzuwerfen und die Gottesmutter anzuflehen, ihr zu helfen. Behütet von Gott, Der nur dieses eine will, nämlich dass der Sünder umkehre zu Ihm und lebe, entwurzelte sie durch ihre außergewöhnliche Askese alle Leidenschaften aus ihrem Herzen und verwandelte das Feuer der Fleischeslust in flammende Gottesliebe, die sie die unerbittliche Wüste mit Freuden ertragen ließ. 
Nach all den Jahren kam ein heiliger Greis namens Zosimas (4.4.), Mönch eines Klosters in Pälastina, in jene Wüste jenseits des Jordans, um dort wie jedes Jahr gemäß der Tradition des Hl. Euthymios (20.1.) die Große Fastenzeit im Schweigen zu verbringen. Wie er dahinging in jener Einsamkeit, sah er in der Ferne eine menschliche Gestalt, dunkelgebrannt von der Sonne, mit schneeweißem Haar. Schon lange hatte er sich gewünscht, einem jener gotttragenden Wüstenasketen zu begegnen, die fernab von allem das mönchische Leben in seiner Vollkommenheit leben, und deshalb eilte er jener Gestalt voller Sehnsucht nach. Als er sich auf Rufweite genähert hatte, bat er den Asketen um seinen Segen. Die Hl. Maria antwortete ihm, indem sie denjenigen, den sie nie gesehen hatte, mit seinem Namen nannte und ihn bat, ihr, einer Frau, seinen Mantel zuzuwerfen, damit sie ihre Nacktheit verhülle. Auf die inständige Bitte des Greises berichtete sie ihm daraufhin unter Tränen, wie sie hierher gekommen war, wie sie zuvor gelebt hatte und wie der Herr sie zur Umkehr brachte. Dann schilderte sie ihm ihr Leben in der Einsamkeit, ihren geistigen Kampf. Zosimas wunderte sich über ihre genaue Kenntnis der Hl. Schrift, die sie oft zitierte. Da versicherte sie ihm, dass sie diese nie gelesen habe. „Der Logos Gottes selbst, Der lebt und wirkt, lehrt einen Menschen dieses Wissen.“ 

Als sie fertig war mit ihrem Bericht, bat sie den Greis, ihr am Großen Donnerstag des kommenden Jahres die Göttliche Kommunion an das Ufer des Jordans zu bringen. Am besagten Tag kam der hl. Zosimas an den Strom und sah die Heilige auftauchen aus der Tiefe der Wüste. Sie schritt über die Wasser wie über festes Land, und als sie die Hl. Mysterien empfangen hatte, sagte sie: Nun entlässt Du Deine Magd, o Meister, gemäß Deinem Wort in Frieden, denn meine Augen haben Dein Heil gesehen (vgl. Lk 2,29). Dann nahm sie Abschied von Zosimas und bat ihn, übers Jahr an den Ort ihrer ersten Begegnung zu kommen. Als er zur vereinbarten Zeit dorthin kam, fand er den Leib der Heiligen mit gekreuzten Armen am Boden ausgestreckt, das Antlitz nach Osten gerichtet. Auf den Boden hatte sie ihre letzte Botschaft geschrieben:„Abba Zosimas, bestatte an diesem Ort den Leib der nichtswürdigen Maria und bete für mich. Ich starb am 1. Fermutin (ägyptischer Name des Monats April, die Hl. Maria starb im Jahr 522), in der Nacht der Passion unseres Herrn, nach dem Empfang der Göttlichen Mysterien.“ Überrascht stellte Zosimas fest, dass sie die Distanz vom Jordan bis hierher — 20 Tagesmärsche — noch am selben Tag zurückgelegt hatte. 
Ein Löwe, plötzlich von irgendwoher erschienen, half dem Hl. Zosimas mit seinen Krallen, eine Grube zu graben in den harten Boden. Nachdem der Greis die Heilige mit Ehrfurcht bestattet hatte, kehrte er in sein Kloster zurück und berichtete den Vätern über die Wunder, die Gott vollbringt für jene, die sich abwenden von der Sünde und mit ganzem Herzen umkehren zu Ihm. 

Entnommen aus: Das Synaxarion, die Leben der Heiligen der Orthodoxen Kirche, 
Band 2, März – August, Kloster des Hl. Johannes des
 Vorläufers, Chania, Kreta.