ATHONITE FATHERS
AND ATHONITE MATTERS

BY THE BOOK OF ELDER PAISIOS,
OF MOUNT ATHOS

Father Philaret, the Abbot of the Holy Monastery of Constamonitou

The fathers of the Holy Monastery of Constamonitou, naturally, have a great deal to write about their holy elder, because they lived in close contact with him for many years. From afar, I knew only a little about him, but it would be unfair to make no reference at all to the holy elder, since he was very well known and outstanding for his virtues among the fathers and abbots of his time.

Once, a reserve officer visited the Holy Monastery of Constamonitou in about 1950. Father Philaret called him over by name and told him about an adventure he, the officer, had had. He advised him what to do and comforted him. The officer was completely at a loss. He was astounded by the elder's gift of insight and said to him with great reverence:
"Elder, I will become a monk just as soon as I get my discharge'.
The elder answered:
"By all means, my child, but not in this monastery, because in three years you will have a problem with the secretary".
The elder had foreseen even a temptation the man would encounter three years hence!

So, when the officer was discharged from the army, Father Philaret gave him his advice and sent him to another monastery, where he became a monk. Every month, however, he used to go and seek the advice of the holy elder. One day when he visited him, he found Father Philaret sitting in a corner of his cell clutching his head. Father Ananias (the former officer) embraced him with concern and asked him:
"What is it, elder? What is the matter?"
And the elder, much troubled, answered:
"Ananias, my child, I haven't had any temptation today. God has deserted me."
The "athlete" of Christ, Father Philaret, wanted to fight temptations every day in order to be crowned by Christ!

On another occasion, he saw a layman and said to him:
"Poor thing, it is not a bodily sickness you are suffering from. You have wasted your money on all those doctors in vain. It is a demon that is tormenting you."
The man said to him:
"Pray for me to be free of it, then, elder."
And Father Philaret answered:
"I will pray for you, my child, but you must fast as well, because that is the only way to get rid of the demon, with prayer and fasting. That is what Christ said."
The tormented man did as he was told and became well with the fasting that he himself did and the prayer and fasting of the holy elder.

Towards the end, Father Philaret had spiritually matured and knew not only the hearts and minds of people, but even what they had in their pockets!
One day, a clergyman called in at the Monastery of Constamonitou to get the elder's blessing and advice. He wanted to stay on the Holy Mountain. After answering the clergyman's questions, the ones he brought up, as well as the ones he didn't even mention, Father Philaret told him what to do with the money he had in his pocket and the exact amount he had! The clergyman was utterly amazed and glorified God that, in our own times, he had made the acquaintance of an elder like the elders of bygone days!

When he was an old man, Father Philaret became slightly ill because his bodily strength had completely deserted him. The fathers of the monastery, out of love for him, forced him to go to a hospital in Thessaloniki for tests. The elder had no idea he was in hospital, because, apart from being exhausted, he also felt dizzy from the journey. When he came to, he suddenly saw the nurses coming towards him, drawing near to his bed. When Father Philaret saw their white uniform and their little caps, he thought they were angels with haloes and hid his face under the sheet out of awe. Everyone around was amazed and admired the purity of the elder. Father Symeon, a former abbot from the Monastery of Philotheou, who was also at his bedside then, told me about it.
Then, they took him back to his place of repentance, where he rested in the Lord. May his blessing be upon us. Amen.


Elder Peter (Petrakis)

Elder Peter was born in Lemnos in 1891. It seems that his family, though poor, was of noble stock. He was completely illiterate, but acquired divine enlightenment through the intense philotimo of his spiritual labours. From an early age, George, as he was known in the world, lived a monastic life; however, he received the great habit after the age of thirty from a venerable elder at the Cell of Righteous Neilos, and was given the name of Righteous Peter the Athonite.

Father Peter had a natural simplicity and great faith, which were apparent from the first years of his spiritual endeavours. He once told me that just as he had become a monk, his elder fell seriously ill. He was naturally very concerned, because he felt like a little child in danger of losing its mother while still being breast-fed. He lost no time, however. He went straight to the chapel and, with all his childlike simplicity and reverence, said to Righteous Neilos:
"Now listen, Righteous Neilos, if you don't make my elder well straight away, I won't light your icon lamp."
What a miracle! The elder at once became well, got up, went into the chapel to thank the saint and lit the icon lamp himself. The elder lived a good many years and benefited Father Peter spiritually.
Later, when he was living alone, he had been through some rough times at the beginning, because he was influenced by some monks who were rather indiscreetly zealous. He threw down the flagpoles at the Monastery of the Great Lavra as a sign of protest against King George II, whom they said was a mason. He was charged with slander by the civil authorities and sentenced to three years exile on the island of Spinalonga, where he looked after lepers. He repented for his action, however, as he later told me:
"I acted like a layman, Father Paisios, not like a monk. I was badly damaged spiritually during the time of my exile, because I couldn't carry out my monastic obligations."
On his return from exile, he was travelling with a monk, who told me that Father Peter preached repentance to people and told them:
"We have to repent, or else God will punish us. He will let the atheist communists slaughter us."
He had been informed by God about the great evil, the Civil War, that awaited us for our sins years before it happened.
When he returned from exile to the Holy Mountain, he didn't stay at the Cell of Righteous Neilos, because there was too much bustle. A lot of people came by and he couldn't find any peace. He went down to Katounakia and lived in a hut at the very tip, belonging to the Skete of Little Saint Ann. His small hut couldn't be seen at all from the road and didn't even have a gate, only a long piece of wood which people took for a fence. The fathers around him held him in great devotion, because he himself was extremely devout; they all used to call him "Petrakis" (Little Pete) because he was short and thin and had a childlike simplicity and sensitivity. When you saw him with the eyes in his fine, bright face cast down when he spoke, he was, indeed, just like a little boy. He retained his childlike character until his sixty-seventh year, when he rested in the Lord.

Although the fathers would approach him for their benefit, he himself would avoid them because he was shy and blushed. When he absolutely couldn't get away, he would reply in a few -but very enlightening- words. He found contact with people difficult, which is why he remained in his Cell and unceasingly conversed with God in prayer. When the fathers went and knocked at his door, he wouldn't open. If they left him any blessings, he would likewise leave them outside.
People would then see them all rotted and the next time wouldn't bring him anything; instead, they would bring blessings to other fathers. The brethren living nearby would say to Elder Peter:
"It is not right for you not to accept blessings."
He answered:
"Blessed father, I have got sufficient, glory to God. Why should I deprive other elders things they are in need of?"
Through his great ascesis, the elder had cut off almost all human needs and lived really like an incarnate angel, not only in a formal way by wearing the angelic habit. He fasted regularly, all day. He would eat a dried rusk after Vespers and spent day and night saying the Jesus Prayer and making prostrations. Even in his sleep he said the Jesus Prayer. And when he awoke, continued the Jesus Prayer. When he lay down a little, his body fell asleep, but his soul was awake praying. Prayer had become self activating and he often said to me:
"I hear angels chanting, as well, so sweetly that I can hardly stand on my feet with that sweet, heavenly melody."
This sweet state of being nourished him spiritually and physically, which is why he didn't need many things for his up-keep. The little he needed, he provided for from his handiwork; he plaited komboskinia and collected mountain tea from the slopes of Athos. These he would give in return for some dried rusks. If anyone insisted on giving him a blessing, he would return the gift twofold in the politest of manners, giving either mountain tea or komboskinia. Despite the fact that he didn't take care of himself and was all skin and bones, he still undertook great spiritual struggles, and one could clearly see the grace of God which strengthened him. You couldn't see a stomach on Elder Peter, just a hollow. If he happened to undo his habit on his chest a little, you could count his ribs which looked like rods of flattened cane. I have known many ascetics, but there was something different about Elder Peter. There was a divine sweetness mirrored in his face. His spiritual hive was overflowing with the spiritual honey. If anyone asked him,
"How do you get on in your Cell, elder?" he would reply:
"Glory to God, I wouldn't swap my Cell, my sweet Katouni, for all the palaces in the world."
He would leave his "sweet Katouni" (Katounakia) usually every six months to visit the monasteries of the Holy Mountain to give them his handiwork and be given in return dried rusks for half a year. You can realize, of course, the size Elder Peter' bag and therefore how many rusks -his sole food normally- he ate in the course of six months!
So, every six months he would call in at the monastery where I was living to see me. The last time he came I was away, unfortunately, and he waited outside in a corner because he was too shy to go in. I came across him in the afternoon, after he had been waiting for me for four hours. As soon as he saw me, he came running over like a happy little boy, even though he was twice my age. We went to my cell and though I wanted to look after him a bit and get him to rest, he wouldn't consent and refused in a very sweet way so as not to hurt my feelings. He asked for a little hot water and put in two sprigs of mountain tea which he had with him and drank it. When I insisted that he eat something, he said:
"Forgive me, Father Paisios, but I want to prepare for Communion on June 12, Saint Peter the Athonite's day. I came to say good-bye and ask for your forgiveness, because I will be dying soon, which is why I can't take you as my disciple. Forgive me, since I will be dying."
Now I found this strange! Just like that, while he was perfectly well, he was talking to me about dying! After our discussion and the advice he had been giving me for two and a half hours, however, I began to believe it. Seeing him standing up while giving me advice, I asked him to sit. He wouldn't, however, and said:
"We shouldn't say the word of God sitting down," even though he was exhausted having walked, loaded, for nine hours. This time he would give his handiwork in exchange for the requirements for his burial and the celebration of a Divine Liturgy at the place of his repentance, the Cell of Righteous Neilos. Then, he would receive forgiveness and say goodbye to his few friends who were scattered throughout the Holy Mountain. Since it was his last visit, he told me more things than any other time, perhaps to give me greater pleasure and lessen the great grief I felt over losing him now. Before he started giving me advice, I had asked him about the difficulties of my monastic task, which involved being with lay people almost all day, and involuntarily listening to a whole host of dirty stories. Elder Peter answered me:
"Father Paisios, we should look at that with good thoughts."
The elder had been purified and saw everything clearly, because there was now no sin inside him, but rather Christ Himself dwelt within him. I also asked him whether a certain incident was from God or from the devil to deceive me. He answered that it was from God and went on to tell me this:
"Father Paisios, I constantly experience divine states like that. When I am visited by divine grace, my heart is warmed sweetly by the love of God and a strange light illuminates me internally as well as externally, since my Cell is also illuminated. Then, I take off my cap and humbly bow my head and say to Christ: 'My Christ, pierce my heart with the lance of Your loving kindness.' Sweet tears of gratitude stream from my eyes and I glorify God and feel my face lighting up. At times like that, Father Paisios, everything stops because I feel Christ very close to me, and I can no longer ask for anything. Even the prayer stops. The komboskini won't go round."
So that I wouldn't misunderstand him and abandon the komboskini, although I hadn't reached such a heavenly state, he told me about the following event:
"The komboskini, Father Paisios, must never be allowed to slip from our hands, because it is the weapon of the monk and has great power. I once made the sign of the cross over a possessed person in Karyes and the man was set free at once."
I had also heard about this incident from Father Evmenios who was present at the time and saw it. Elder Peter had set out his komboskinia and mountain tea for sale in Karyes, when he saw a man tormented by an evil spirit. The people around were unable to do anything to help. Elder Peter got up very quietly, gathered up his handiwork, and noiselessly approached the man to make the sign of the cross over him with a komboskini. Then, he quickly went away before anyone could see him. Almost all the people there simply saw the possessed man suddenly healed, and glorified God when they realized that there are saints even in our own age! But not all of them managed to see little righteous Peter, only two or three. The elder was not, of course, known to many people because he avoided contacts and strove to remain unknown, but everyone had heard about little Pete! If anyone he knew happened to come across him and ask him about something, he would talk about the subject in question with illuminating examples, as if he had translated the Gerontikon! (26) (Different examples, certainly, but with the same meaning.) Of course, it was easy for people to misunderstand him, if they lacked the mystical depth of the fathers of the Church. He would say, for example:
"God gets talked round by the prayer of a humble person!" Meaning that God yields to the prayer of a humble person. Or again, he would say about fasting:
"If water doesn't fall into the cistern, it dries up and the frogs die." In other words, the stomach dries up and the passions die. As I mentioned, he had his own Gerontikon.

Among his other virtues, he was distinguished for his great discretion. Because there was some friction over certain Church matters -basically the calendar of saints- he had withdrawn from a fanatical party and came to the monasteries, too. Whenever he visited me, he would follow the services from the narthex. When I asked him why he didn't go into the main church he answered:
"So as not to scandalize anyone, blessed father. If the zealots see me in the narthex, they will say, `Elder Peter is waiting for somebody' and won't be scandalized. And if the fathers of the monastery see me, they won't be scandalized either, because they will see I have my bag with me."
He had overcome human pettiness, fanaticism and the like because he was enlightened by God. He was a zealot in the good sense. He would normally receive Communion once a week, unless there happened to be a feast in between. He would also attend the Divine Liturgies which took place in the huts around his. He would take only antidoro (27) from the first Liturgy, so that he could also attend another one. Then, he would take hagiasmo (holy water) as well, if, of course, he wasn't receiving Communion. He was in such a holy state that he could have received Communion more of ten. As I have said, he was always fasting until Vespers each day and, in Lenten periods he would go three days without eating. Only on weekends did he eat twice a day and used olive oil. He prayed his services with the komboskini, saying the Jesus Prayer for seven hours, apart from his normal rule of praying, which consisted of seven hundred great prostrations and repeating the Jesus Prayer 3300 times with his komboskini and small prostrations with the sign of the cross. Of all this, one third was for himself, one third for the living and one third for all those who have fallen asleep. If he heard of anyone who was in trouble, he would make a separate prayer with prostrations. He also read the Hours, Vespers and Compline Service with the komboskini. In other words, his "handiwork" was prayer. Even though he was in such a holy state, Elder Peter was so humble that he considered himself a sinner with many passions. At the time when the priest read the Gospel, he would take off his cap, go up to the Royal Doors and bend his head under the Gospel Book so that, as he used to say, the evil spirits would leave him.
He considered himself to be very worthless and therefore had never taken a disciple. Once, when I had begged him, he had agreed to take me as his disciple, but the monastery wouldn't give me a blessing. Elder Peter came for the last time to tell me he was preparing for the next life and ask my forgiveness for not taking me as a disciple since he was going to die. Then, I realized that the will of God was hidden behind the obstacle presented by the elders of the monastery, for God was about to take Elder Peter. It seems I wasn't worthy of living with a saint. Even the fact that God judged me worthy of getting to know him for my benefit was in itself too much considering my sinfulness. If God makes it possible for me to see him in the next life, even from afar, it will be one of His greatest concessions. I shall never forget his last advice and our final parting. Here you see the majesty of God in His saints, as in the case of little righteous Peter, who was not kissed by his friends after his death; but rather, while he was still alive, he went himself to his friends to receive the "last kiss."

Afterwards, he went on to Karyes, obtained the requisites for his burial and then went to the place of his repentance, the Cell of Righteous Neilos. The next day, June 12, a Divine Liturgy was celebrated, since it was his name day (memory of Righteous Peter the Athonite). The fathers from the surrounding Cells (the ascetics) had also foregathered. After the Divine Liturgy was over and Elder Peter had received Communion, he went out to fetch water and a treat for the fathers. As soon as he sat down with them, he closed his eyes and commended his sanctified soul to Christ. The fathers thought he was dozing and waited for him to open his eyes, so that they could wish him many happy returns of the day. But when they shook him, they realized he had departed for the heavens, and instead wished him "Good Repose." He rested in the Lord on 12 June, the feast of Righteous Peter the Athonite, in 1958. May his blessing be upon us. Amen.

27. The remaining portion of the prosphoro (loaf of bread used for the preparation of the Holy Gifts in the Divine Liturgy) which is distributed as a blessing to the faithful at the end of the Divine Liturgy.