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PAGE 2—The Southern Cross, January 12, 1963
Priest Sees Mount Athos’ Southern Tip-Rocky Haven Of Orthodox Contemplatives
The author of the following
article, a Byzantine Rite Jes
uit assigned to the Russian Cen
ter at Fordham University in
New York, recently spent sev
eral weeks studying Orthodox
monastic life on Mount Athos,
a font of spirituality for Ortho
doxy. In the light of current
attempts for closer interreli
gious understanding, his article
can give Catholic readers a new
look at some facets of the Or
thodox Church.
By Father George A.
Maloney, S.J.
(N.C.W.C. NEWS SERVICE)
The main goal of my wan
derings on Mount Athos was
Karoulia.
On the map of the Holy Moun
tain, Karoulia shows up simply
as the southernmost tip of the
35-mile-long peninsula jutting
into the Aegean Sea. But its
terrain proved a real challenge.
Karoulia is the area that has
attracted the most serious-
minded monks of Athos from all
times. "Go to Karoulia," the
abbot of the Dionysiou monas
tery, told me. "There you will
find the solid contemplatives."
The area once called the
"desert” was settled well over
a millennium ago by the first
monks who came to Athos, prob
ably exiles from Palestinian
monestaries. In their thirst
for greater solitude and more
prayer they pushed their way
toward the precipices that bound
the southernmost tip.
Here the hermits still live
like eagles on top of sheer rock
with the heavens alone above
and the surgin sea below.
"Karoulia” in Greek means
the pulleys. The monks on the
farther - most precipe would
lower ropes by means of pulleys
to the sea below in hopes that
passing fishermen would place a
bit of bread or other necessi
ties in the lowered baskets.
After a tiring walk of four
hours to Kerasia, about 2,500
feet above the sea, I was assured
by a Greek hermit that I was
fairly close to my goal. I learn
ed quickly enough to distrust
Athonite monks estimation of
distances. The rocky path was
downhill at least and led to a
group of 20 or so small hermit
huts scattered over the stoney
hillside. My first destination
was the house of the Daniel-
aioi, the only place in this area
of hermits where a visitor can
find a night’s lodging.
After I had met the commun
ity of nine monks who devote
their working hours to the paint
ing of the icons, I asked direc
tions to Karoulia. One of the
young artists of Danielai-
oi pdlnted out a cross on top
of a Aighboring precipice. "Go
to tip cross and you will find
the path leading to the hermit
Gabriel’s hut.”
It all sounded easy, but on ar
riving at the cross I began to
admire the courage and ingen
uity of hermits like Gabriel in
their quest to seek privacy
where tourists would fear to
tread.
I also began to realize my
own physical fatigue from the
all-day’s walk on a virtually
empty stomach. So, rather than
dangle from the chains that hung
down the sheer cliff to pro-
vice the sole means of support
when climbing, I turned to the
left of the cross and continued
down the steep and winding path
that led past a nest of hermi
tages.
The path had been built re
cently by monks of the Brother
hood of Danielaioi. It led from
their house to the sea, where
they had erected a pier. This
pier serves as a shipping out
let to the outside world for their
finished icons.
The most impressive hermit
I visited that afternoon was Fa
ther Nikon, the Russian hermit
and relative of Helene Iswol-
sky, my former Russian teacher
of Fordham University. He is
now 87 years old, but mentally
he is very alert as he can
switch with ease from Russian
to English to French.
When his long vigils, constant
fasts, and prayers weakened
him he was forced to leave
his precariously - placed hut
on the precipice overlooking
the sea and to move to this
relatively accessible hermitage
taking with him another Russian
to care for him.
Father Nikon was a high-
ranking tsarist officer of a
noble Russian family. When the
Revolution broke out in Russia,
he fled to Europe and travel
ed extensively, living in France,
Italy, Germany, the Far East,
but spending most of his time
in England.
When he spoke English to me,
it was with a clear, trim accent;
he usually began his statement
with the phrase "My dear, the
thing, you see is ... ”
He came to the Mount in 1935,
unable to find happiness, he
said, in people or in travel.
He proved to be one of the very
few monks well-educated and
eager to keep up his intellectual
formation by reading broadly.
Our conversation turned to
the possibility of Christian re
union. "No, my dear, it is a
thing utterly, utterly impos
sible," he said.
I suggested that dogmatically,
there are no differences that are
irreconciliable. "No," he pro
tested, "it is more than dog
ma and words. It is a whole
difference of life, of a different
approach to God. No, Ortho
doxy can never unite with Ro
man Catholics!”
He was most sure of himself
and I saw that arguing would
be useless. I wanted to take
his photo, expecially to show
Miss Iswolsky in America, but
he objected strongly — not so
much from religious humility as
from shame to show himself to
the world in his physically re
duced condition.
The next morning at eight o’
clock I set out to tackle the real
Karoulia. I returned to the junc
ture at the cross again with the
hope of finding Father Gabriel’s
hermitage. Instead of seeking
out Father Gabriel, I decided
to take the longer route which
would bring me to the Russian
hermits living in the most
hidden crevices dug into the
cliffs side above the sea. The
way was really dangerous;
foothold, sometimes hardly re
cognizable, had been dug into
sheer rock, with a chain run
ning up and down the cliff as the
only means of support.
As I was cautiously making
my way, I noticed a few yards
ahead of me a monk descending
quite nimbly with a bundle of
tin roofing tied to his back. He
had long reddish hair, loosely
dangling around his shoulders.
I was sure he was not a Greek
monk, for the Greeks tie their
long hair in a tight knot at
the back of the head. As he
rested, I approached from the
back and greeted him in Rus
sian.
He was- Surprised and pleas
ed, explaining that he was Ser
bian but spoke Russian with lit
tle difficulty. Stephanos was his
name and he had been on the Ho
ly Mount for only five years,
first at the Serbian monastery
and then here. When we reached
th e house at the bottom of the
steep path, he laid the tin roof
ing down. He had only carried
it down for one of his neigh
bors, too old to make the dan
gerous climb. He pointed out
another hut. "That belongs to
another Russian, Seraphim. He
is very learned, having been in
Russia an engineer. But if you
meet him, you must not tell
him this, for he is very modest
and humble about his talents and
he would be offended that I
told you.”
Next to Seraphim’s house
was a hut that seemed literally
to hang from the sheer cliff.
It was undoubtedly the most in
accessible house of all that I
had seen. Stephanos said it
belonged to two Serbians who
were not at home at present.
Stephanos showed me his chapel
and a garden. He was the only
hermit at Karoulia who had
a plot of ground, and most of
CARDINAL VISITS MISSION, TROOPS IN VIETNAM—During his annual Christmas
tour of U.S. armed forces abroad Francis Cardinal Spellman, Archbishop of New
York, was flown to central Vietnam where he inspected a Catholic mission and sev
eral military bases. In top photo, the Cardinal is welcomed to Kontum by Dr. Pat
ricia Smith of Seattle, Washington, who conducts a Catholic Relief Services Clinic for
the mountain people of the area. Father Lentrade, M.E.P., a veteran French mission
ary and some of Dr. Smith’s patients were on hand to greet the Cardinal. In bottom
photo, Cardinal Spellman dedicates a monument to Lt. Col. Anthony J. Tencza of Ar
lington, Va., an American Military adviser who was killed by the Viet Cong guerillas
last July.—(NC Photo)
GREEK MONKS SEEK CLIFFS FOR SOLITUDE - The southern tip of Mount Athos,
Greece, known as Karoulia, has attracted the most serious-minded hermits of that
Orthodox monastic stronghold. "Karoulia” in Greek means the pulleys (see bottom
picture). The monks of the outer-most precipices lower ropes or chains by means of
pulleys to the sea below in order to obtain food from passing fishermen. Most of the monks
of Karoulia abide in the small huts (see top photo) that dot the stoney hillsides. The area
once called the "desert” was settled well over a thousand years ago by the first monks
of Athos and here the hermits still live like eagles on top of sheer rock. - (NC Photos)
th e space was devoted to rais
ing flowers for his chapel. He
began making tea for me when
Seraphim came over to help
him repair the chapel.
Their conversation on the
spiritual life was most edify
ing; I felt very small indeed
before such ascetics. They
sleep only a few hours, no more
than four, and spend all the
rest of the day and night in
prayer. Only on Sundays and
great feastdays do the monks
come to Stephanos’ chapel for
the Liturgy. And all they eat
is dry bread and a bit of wild
fruit, especially that of cacti,
whereas for drink, they are
content with rain water.
From solid rock it is diffi
cult to garner a living. Ste
phanos, who had studied agro
nomy in Yugoslavia, had car
ried the soil from the backlands
to form his "rock” garden.
Here were ascetics who took
seriously St. Paul’s admonition
"to pray always.” From men
such as these I was eager to
hear their views towards Ca
tholics. We soon were deep in
a discussion about theology and
difference between Orthodox
and Catholics. They repeated
the stock charges that I had
heard from so many Greek
monks, such as that Catholics
had changed the Creed by af
firming the procession of the
Holy Spirit from the Son as
well as the Father.
Another complaint was a-
gainst the Catholic practice of
giving Holy Communion under
one species only: "Catholics
refused to obey Christ when He
told us to drink His Blood.”
This type of arguing was not
pleasant, but it was a way to
get at the basic thoughts of these
holy ascetics towards Catho
lics. When I left we kissed each
other three times on the cheek
in the traditional Russian
manner.
They could overlook the theo
logical differences that sepa
rated us and treat me as a
brother in Christ. I was deeply
touched by their sincere charity
towards me when we spoke of
the spiritual life; and complete
ly bewildered by their closed
minds when we spoke of theo
logical and psychological dif
ferences.
I climbed a bit higher to
visit Alexander, the last to
arrive here from Soviet Russia,
although he was very old. He
was all alone and almost blind.
He showed me his small chapel.
After lighting an oil lamp before
the icon of Our Lady he did
three prostrations that evident
ly were most taxing for him.
He asked me if I could send
him some money because no
priest would offer the Liturgy
in his chapel and give him Holy
Communion unless he paid him
50 drachmas (about $1.75) each
time. It was impossible for him
to climb to Stephanos’ chapel,
whereas Stephanos would not
come to him, stating that be
cause of his own unworthiness
he wanted to celebrate only on
Sundays and on great feasts.
Several Greeks were not
home, or'at least did not re
spond to my knocking and call
ing at their doors. It was a bit
disappointing for the way I had
to climb to reach these hide
outs was quite difficult. I bal
anced my sack containing my
camera on my shoulder while
hanging tenaciously to the chain
or at one time to a ladder of
wood which went up a perpend
icular wall of rock. I stopped
a few times to take breath
taking pictures — they almost
took my breath away as I gazed
down to see below a chasm of
sea or a ravine of rock.
I knocked at one door. No
answer. As I started away, a
monk opened the door and stood
there inviting me with a most
engaging smile. This was the
G reek hermit Chrysostom, one
of the most deeply spiritual
monks whom I was to meet on
all of Mount Athos. He intro
duced me to his disciple, the
young monk Andronicos from
Crete.
Then he brought me to his
"cave,” a deep hole under the
cliff connected directly to his
house. It was too damp to live
in, but here Chrysostom spent
his nights and long periods of
the day in mental prayer. He
spoke with a simple charm about
the spiritual life and the various
steps of prayer leading to con
templation. His knowledge that
I was a Catholic priest made
no difference in the least. He
was beyond all pettiness, for
he regarded all men from God’s
vantage point. As we parted,
he was insistent that we con
tinue our friendship by cor
respondence.
A day later I went on foot
to seek out Father Ephraem,
whose name I had received
from a friend. A heavy rain
storm broke a few minutes
away from his house. He was
on the porch, as though he were
awaiting me. He received me
most warmly and insisted that
I pass the night with him.
Ephraem belongs to a group of
hermits who lead a unique life
of solitude. Their "group” was
formed under the saintly Father
Joseph who died several years
ago and whose place of guidance
is now occupied by Father Ar-
senius.
These monks, like Ephraem
and his disciple Joseph, live
in separate houses, usually two
monks together. In place of the
traditional Church services of
the Divine Office that are sung
or recited daily by all other
monks on Mount Athos, these
hermits observe their own pe
culiar schedule which allows
a maximum time for mental
prayer.
When I had arrived in the rain
about six in the evening Eph
raem had just awakened. He
sleeps four hours a day, and
that quite interruptedly. At
7:30 p.m. he and his disciples
enter their chapel and begin
their long night vigil of prayer
not reciting the office, but the
Jesus Prayer "Lord, Jesus
Christ, Son of God, have mer
cy on me a sinner,”—at first
orally, then privately, which
leads to a more affective, si
lent prayer.
At midnight Ephraem cele
brates the Liturgy with Joseph
singing and receiving Holy
Communion daily, a thing un
heard of among other Athonite
monks. Then they retire for a
few hours of rest until 4 a.m.
when they rise and begin their
work about the house and their
carving of wooden crucifixes.
They eat once a day towards
noon and then in the late after
noon they sleep for a few hours
until 6 p.m.
I was present for this Litur
gy which came as the climax
of so many hours of intimate,
affective prayer. As it was
Saturday, the traditional day
to commemorate the dead,
Father Ephraem stood before
the skull of his former spirit
ual father and founder of this
colony, Father Joseph, and sang
a litany for the repose of his
soul, all the while incensing
profusely the skull of his form
er teacher.
The Greeks have a matter-
of-fact realism towards death
and the human body. After three
years, the grave of a dead
monk is unearthed and the bones
stored in a common "pile”
while the grave is prepared for
the next dead monk.
Ephraem is a young priest
in his early 30’s. He radiates
a spiritual happiness and sim
plicity that exert a strong in
fluence on all who meet him.
But he is not at all morose
despite His long hours of pray
er, eating only once a day, four
hours of sleep, and constant
medication on death as pre
sented so vividly to him by the
ever-present skull of the her
mit from whom he learned the
secrets of the peculiar form of
mysticism dating from the 14th
century which is known as hesy-
chasm—literally, quietness.
With him there could be no
conversation about differences
between Orthodox and Catho
lics. He was interested
only in union with God. And this
intimate union gave him a pro
found love for all men. He,
along with Father Chrysostom,
reflects the acme in true Or
thodox spirituality, a spiritual
ity which surmounts all nation
alism, all asceticism found in
the one Church of Christ before
the schism of 1054.
These were some of the her
mits I met in the environs of
Karoulia. They convinced me of
two striking facts. Firstly, that
in proportion to an Orthodox
monk’s growth in true contem
plation and union with God, so
also grow his love for his fel
low Christian brethren, espec
ially for Catholics. And his
prejudices, inherited from long
centuries of not directly know
ing Catholics, are surmounted
only by a complete immersion
in God.
The second conviction is that
of the purity of the spirituality
of these monk-hermits, in their
efforts to imitate the teachings
of the Fathers of the Desert
and the Hesychastic Fathers.
Along with this purity, kept
alive for centuries in hidden
hermitages on Mount Athos,
there comes a direct contact
with the one Church that at the
time of the development of true
hesychasm knew no schism and
reformation, no "Orthodox” in
the modern sense and no Pro-
testatism.
Catholics can learn from
these Orthodox hermits the
purity of hesychastic spirituali
ty, a heritage that remains ever
in the one Church of Christ,
but, through developments made
in the West, has somehow be
come obscured or subjected to
adaptation to meet exigencies
of the time.
Peasants ? Trek Seen
As Dramatic Protest
WORCESTER, Mass., - The
action of 32 Siberian Christians
who pushed their way into the
U. S. embassy in Moscow was
seen by an expert here as a
dramatic protest against the
Soviet Union’s current cam
paign against religion.
Father Georges Bissonnette,
A. A., served from 1953 to
1955 as a Catholic chaplain for
foreigners in Moscow and is
now head of the foreign affairs
school at Assumption College
here, noted in an interview that
the Soviet government "started
a campaign of "administrative
measures” against religious
activity back around Septem
ber.” He observed that the re
cent incident at the U. S. em
bassy could be a protest aimed
at informing the outisde world
about this campaign.
The Siberian Christians who
made a 2,000 mile trek from
Chernogorsk to Moscow failed
in their attempt to leave the
Soviet Union. Soviet spokesmen
said they have been sent back
to their homes.
One of the group said while
at the embassy: "We were told
that for our religious beliefs
we would be put in prison and
that our children would be taken
away from us after January 1.”
Father Bissonnett said that
the Soviets, in a July, 1958
revision of their education sys
tem, set up boarding schools
to take children "out of the
unhealthy atmosphere of a home
of believing parents.”
The former Moscow chaplain
said that the protest could
“bring a halt to the current
‘administrative measures’ ” if
other protests come along. “But
if it’s alone,” he said, "it won’t
have much effect.”
The Soviets might use the
incident, he noted, as a “show
case example that the country
is tolerant.”
Father Bissonnette explained
that the current campaign of
administrative measures
against religion is not unique.
Such campaigns come up from
time to time. They are unan
nounced except by the appear
ance of references to "intensi
fying the campaign against re
ligion.” Then news starts com
ing out about the closing of
seminaries, churches and syna
gogues.
He mentioned a letter which
Soviet Premier Nikita Khrush
chev published in the Soviet
organ Pravda back in 1954,
protesting against a similar
campaign which Comsomol, the
Soviet youth organization, was
conducting. Father Bisson
nette said that Comsomol was
probably chosen at that time as
a "sacrifical lamb” to quiet
protests.
One of Khrushchev’s objec
tions in his 1954 letter was that
some communist party mem
bers were thrown out of the
party because of trumped-up
charges of religious activity.
Father Bissonnette said that
in the current campaign, Soviet
authorities have even started
clamping down on Russian
Orthodox activities—usually
the last denomination affected—
by closing down some of their
seminaries. He said that the
authorities have had trouble
with the Jehovah’s Witnesses
who refuse to serve in the
armed forces.
Protests like the one at the
U. S. embassy, Father Bisson
nette noted, are "one way that
Russians try to reach the out
side world.” These protests
against religious persecution
show up in other ways, too, he
said, adding that the people
sometimes protest through
work slowdowns. ‘The Soviets
get the message,” the priest
explained, "Kruschev once
called the protests , ‘vestiges
of obscurantistic thinking’ and
contrasted them with scientif
ic atheistic materialism.”
READY TO PUSH UNITY CRUSADE—Seminarians at Atonement Seminary in Wash
ington, D.C.,display posters which they have prepared for observance of the Chair
of Unity Octave—January 18 to 25. The Unity Octave, during which Catholics around
the world join with several non-Catholic groups to pray for Christian unity, was start
ed in 1908 by Father Paul James Francis, founder of the Society of the Atonement—
(NC Photos)