Stories from St. Paisios of Mt. Athos

[ReaderT]

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Saint Paisios is a recent wonder-working Greek Orthodox Saint (died 1994, canonized 2015) whose conversations with other monks and nuns were recently published in a series called “Spiritual Counsels.” I enjoyed many of his stories and wrote them here, if they might be of use for others:
"Today it is rare to find a Bishop like the Bishop of Caesarea Paisios II. What did Paisios II do? Well, he used to go to the Sultan to petition about his affairs while wearing a sturdy piece of rope around his waist, as he was determined and ready to be hanged by the Turks. It was if he was suggesting to the Sultan, “‘Don’t bother to look for a rope and delay; if you’re going to hang me, here, I have the rope ready!’”
“In the past people were so devout! In Aitoloakarnania [a prefect in central Greece], there were some grandmothers who had such simplicity and devoutness that they would bow to the mules of the Holy Monastery of Proussos, whenever they came down from Proussos to provide for the needs of the monastery. “These are the mules of Panaghia [the Virgin Mary]!” they would say and bow down with reverence. Now, if they showed such devoutness to the mules of the Monastery of Panaghia, imagine what devoutness they showed to Panaghia Herself!”
“During the time I was in the Monastery of Stomion, I met the head of a family with many children. He was a rural policeman in a village of Epiros, four and a half hours on foot from Konitsa, where his family lived. He had nine children. Because the road to the village passed by the Monastery, that policeman would stop by on his way to work and on his way back home. On his way home, he would ask me to let him light the oil lamps himself. Even though he would spill some oil, I would allow him to do it, preferring to clean up the tiles of the Church myself rather than upset him. When he left the Monastery, at about three hundred meters distance, he would fire a shot with his gun. This I could not explain and so I decided to observe him from the moment he entered the Church until he left for Konitsa.
First he would light the lamps in the Church and then would go to the narthex. After lighting the oil-lamp over the entrance in front of the Icon of Panaghia, he would dip his finger into the oil of the lamp, go down on his knees, raise his arms toward the Icon and say, “Oh my Panaghia, I have nine children; provide a little meat for them.” Then he would rub the oil from his finger on the sight on the barrel of his gun, and leave. Three hundred meters outside the Monastery, where there was a mulberry tree, a wild goat was waiting for him. He would take one shot, as I said, kill the goat, take it down a little way into a cave and skin it, and take it to his children. This would happen every time he returned home from his trip to work. I marvelled at the faith of the rural policeman and the providence of Panaghia.”

 

[ReaderT]

"In the past, when people got sick, they would take a little oil from the vigil oil-lamp, rub it on their bodies, and they would get well. Now the vigil lamp is kept only as a formality, just to provide some light, and the oil, when they clean the vessel, is poured into the sink. Once I went to a home, and saw the lady of the house washing the vigil lamp, and I asked her, “Where does the water from the sink go?” “Into the sewage system,” she answered. And I had to ask her, “How is it that you take oil from the vigil lamp to bless your child when it is sick, and now you pour the remains of oil into the sewage system in order to clean the lamp? How can you justify this?”
"In the past people were so brave! In the Monastery of the Flavians in Asia Minor, the Turks had captured a man and slaughtered him. Then they told his wife, “Either deny Christ or we will kill your children, too.” And she replied, “My husband is now with Christ, and my children I entrust to Christ, and I will not renounce Christ.”
"The Saints are a living presence. And even when we don’t find them, they find us! Many desert ascetics, who don’t have a calendar, and don’t know which Saint is to be celebrated on a given day, will say, ‘Saint of this day, intercede for us.’ And these Saints will appear to them and reveal their names, which are sometimes difficult and unfamiliar names. Later the ascetics will look at a calendar and notice that on such and such a date the Saint who appeared to them was celebrated. [Author’s Footnote: On June 3, 1979, because the Elder did not remember which Saint was to be celebrated on that day and he could not find his glasses to check the calendar - he had just moved into his cell at Panagouda Monastery but was not yet settled - he was doing prayers by saying “Saint of this day, intercede for us.” Then Saint Lukillianos, who is celebrate on that day, appeared to him and repeated three times his difficult name.]
“I am impressed by how one humble thought immediately generates the Grace of God. An unfamiliar kitten had once come to my monastic hut. It seemed as though the poor animal had eaten something that made it sick and had come seeking help. It was thrashing about in pain, and it jerked itself into the air. I felt very sorry seeing it in such a stage, but there was nothing I could do. I blessed it with the sign of the cross again and again, but to no avail! Then I thought to myself, ‘You wretched man, do you see your plight? You have been a monk for so many years and you cannot even help a little kitten!’ As I was deploring myself, the little kitten that had seemed to be on the verge of death suddenly recovered. It approached me, started licking my feet and began rolling over playfully onto its back. Oh what power there is in humility! This is why it is written in the Psalms, ‘It is He who remembered us in our low estate.’”

 

[ReaderT]

"The justice of God is love, forbearance; it is completely unrelated to human justice. We must acquire this righteousness of God. One night a laymen went to the hut of Fr. Tychon [of Kappsala, died 1968] to rob him. After torturing the Elder for a while - even choking him with a rope around his neck - he realized that he had no money and started to leave. At that moment, Fr. Tychon told him, “My son, may God forgive you.” The thief then went on to rob yet another Elder, but he was apprehended by the police. On his own, he admitted that he had also gone to Papa Tychon. The police summoned Fr. Tychon for questioning, but he refused to go. “My son, I have already forgiven the thief with all my heart.” The policeman wouldn’t hear of any of that. “Come along now, Elder; here there is no ‘forgive me’ and ‘bless me.’” In the end, the police chief felt sorry for the Elder who was crying like a little child and allowed him to return to his hut. Later on, whenever the Elder would recall this incident, he could not fathom the mentality of lay people: “My goodness, those laymen have a different rule; they do not have the rule of ‘bless me’ and ‘may God forgive you!’”
I also remember another elderly monk, Father Theoktistos, from the Monastery of Dionysiou. Oh, how much simplicity he had! One night he had stayed with another monk at the monastery’s house in Karyes. Late at night someone knocked on the door and Father Theoktistos rushed to open it. The other monk said to him, “Don’t open the door at this hour; we must rest.” “And how do you know, Father, who it could be? He might even be Christ Himself! Let’s open the door!” And he went and opened the door. You see, the simple person has only good thoughts and always expects something good.
“Let me also now relate a doctrinal matter: The Panaghia was both Daughter and Mother, Servant and Queen, Queen of the whole world. Can this fit into the mind of a person? Even the Annunciation is something supernatural, beyond rational thought. I hope the Panaghia will grant you the joy of the Annunciation and that the Angel will bless you to make spiritual progress. Amen.”

 

[Salibi]

St. Paisios, pray for us.

 

[dochawk]

There have been some sincerely holy men on Mt. Athos . . . (and others that, well . . .)

I think one of greatest errors of the Jesuits was declining their invitation to open a school there some decades ago. The fruits that could have come from that interaction . . .