Amidst the arid heat and craggy rocks
of the wilderness, a thirty-eight year old monk sits alone on the edge of deep
ravine when suddenly the devil speaks: “Jump, Paisos — I promise
you won’t get hurt at all.” The monk remains silent, the
tempter does not. Suddenly, the monk grabs a stone and throws it over
the edge, to which the devil replies: “Even Christ didn’t give an answer
like that. Your’s was better!” “Christ is God,” replies the monk. “Not a
clown like me. ‘Get thee behind me Satan.’” Such was the life of Elder Paisios in the Sinai
Desert, bouts of intense unseen warfare soothed by visitations of divine grace beyond description.
When we ask, “Who was Elder Paisios?”, his life on Sinai provides perhaps the best answer.
Paisios had yearned for a life of stillness and after many years of hearing the call he found
himself living like the desert fathers of old. He lived in poverty and simplicity in
a hermitage high upon the mountain. He carved icons of the Prophet Moses while
saying the Jesus Prayer. The money earned from such work he turned into gifts for the
Bedouins — sandals and hats for the children, clothing and other items for
all those who were in need. On the outside, such great simplicity, and yet
within a constant struggle with the evil one, much like what he endured the first
two weeks alone at his hermitage: “What I went through up there for fifteen
days, struggling with the tempter — it defies description, you can’t even imagine! He was
constantly telling me to go down to the monastery, to see people and visit with them to
be consoled. I’ll just tell you one thing. For fifteen days, I felt
like I was nailed to the Cross.” And yet the fruit of this struggle
were visitations of divine grace, much like the one he experienced
on Mount Athos ten years prior: “One night, as I was standing there praying, I
felt something come down from above and totally encompass me. I felt such joy and exaltation as
my eyes shed tears like water gushing from two faucets. I physically saw grace and felt it.
Before that, I had many moving experiences, but this was the first time that something like
this had happened to me. The experience was so intense and powerful that it supported
me and kept me going for ten years, until on Sinai, I experienced even
greater states in a different way.” Paisios lived in ceaseless prayer on Sinai, alone and yet conversing with God for
two years. He shared very little of this experience. But what could he say really,
other than this, with much simplicity: “I feel,” he said, “something arising
within me like the sweetness of the dawn.” Paisios wished to remain on Sinai the rest
of his life. Yet not many years later he would be back on Mount Athos encountering
streams of pilgrims who journeyed to his cell for wisdom and healing. From
his youth he longed to be a monk, to live in solitude as he was now doing
on Sinai. Was it health problems alone that caused his return to Athos or did God
have something else in mind for Paisios? From the start, history and the prophetic word
of a saintly elder greatly influenced the life of Saint Paisios. He entered the world on
July 25th, 1924 in the village of Farasa in Cappadocia of Asia Minor. His parents prepared
him for an early baptism due to the forthcoming exchange of populations between Greece and Turkey.
The priest-monk Arsenios — who a year prior had foreseen the coming exchange — requested that
all unbaptized children of Farasa receive the sacrament before undertaking such a dangerous
journey. When Paisios’ parents brought him forth, they declared that they wanted to name him
after his grandfather. Arsenios replied, “It is right for you to want to leave a boy
behind to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps, but don’t I want to leave a monk behind
to follow in mine?" He turned to the godmother and said, "Arsenios
is the name you will give him.” He also inherited the strong character and
rich spiritual tradition of the Christians of Cappadocia. Their long history can
still be seen in the underground caves and churches of Κόραμα Valley and can also be
witnessed through the lives of the Cappadocian Fathers. Even after the fall of Constantinople
in 1453, many martyrs and saints -- like Saint Arsenios -- came forth from Cappadocia to inspire
and lead the Christians who were living under the harsh yoke of the Ottoman Turks. Now, just
as Paisios entered the world, his family and all the Christians of the region were being
uprooted from their homes and possessions. Years prior, just after the end of the First World
War and amidst the ruins of the Ottoman Empire, a savage war erupted between Greece and the
Turkish Nationalist Movement under the command of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk. Many died on both
sides -- including millions of Greek, Armenian, and Assyrian Christians who were subject
to Turkish ethnic and religious cleansing. The Orthodox Christians that remained in Asia
Minor at war’s end were subject to the 1923 Treaty of Lausanne which made provision for
an exchange of population along religious lines. Over one and a half million Orthodox
Christians -- including those in Farasa -- were subject to a compulsory move to Greece in
exchange for a half a million Muslims. One villager worried that they would have to leave
immediately, to which Arsenios replied, "Don’t worry. Keep on with what you’re doing, because
there’s another year to go.” He also added, “When we do arrive in Greece, I will live
for forty days before dying on an island.” One year later, soon after the baptism of
Paisios, the people of Farasa embarked on the perilous journey to Greece. Elder Paisios
later wrote of how the presence of Saint Arsenios brought great comfort: ”One can see that while
being in the midst of that human abandonment, on the road of hardships, holy Father Arsenios
was also united with God and continually dispensing Divine Grace, making those around
him feel the presence of a divine security." Many arrived in Greece safely and forty days
after, just as Saint Arsenios had foreseen, he reposed on the island of Kerkyra. Though
an infant at the time, Elder Paisios always remained sensitive to the plight of refugees
for the rest of his life. But even more so, the life of Saint Arsenios
had a profound effect on him. "I am deeply indebted to Father
Arsenios" he later wrote, "both for the name he gave me together with
his holy prayers at the baptismal font, as well as for the few books of his, on
which I was later weaned as a young boy." Elder Paisios would later write
the biography of Saint Arsenios. The family of young Arsenios settled in
the town of Konitsa in Epiros. It didn’t take long for Arsenios to begin following in the
footsteps of his namesake. He climbed mountains, entered caves, always searching for places of
silence where he could fast and pray. For a trade, he became an apprentice to a master carpenter.
Yet his mind remained always on spiritual things: “From the age of eleven, I read
the lives of the saints, fasted, and kept vigil. My older brother
would take the books and hide them, but that didn’t stop me. I would just go
into the forest and keep reading there.” He unwittingly impressed everyone he encountered
due to his reverence and peacefulness. As one friend remembered him, “He had lively, expressive eyes, which were so bright
that people called him ‘firefly.'" An important moment in his early spiritual life
came when his friend Costas challenged him with Darwin’s Theory of Evolution. Shaken by his
friend’s argument that Christ may have been a righteous and virtuous man but that He was not
God, Arsenios went into the woods and prayed for God to reveal Himself. After hours of prayer
and prostrations, he collapsed and thought: “Well, even if Jesus were only a righteous
and virtuous man, He deserves my love and obedience and self-sacrifice. I don’t
want paradise — I don’t want anything. It is worth making every sacrifice for
the sake of His holiness and kindness.” Just then, with such a humble thought,
Christ appeared to him and said, “I am the Resurrection, and the life: he
that believes in Me, though he were dead, yet he shall live.” All his doubt about Christ
being fully God, fully man now disappeared as through grace he was given to know and see
Christ. The encounter strengthened his faith, to which he thought, “Come back now, Costas,
if you want to, and we’ll have a talk.” Arsenios now looked forward to
the monastic life with greater zeal. He visited the chancellor of the
metropolitan of Ioannina to see if he could become a monk at age fifteen but
was told that he was still too young. Arsenios spent his remaining teens and
early twenties during a tumultuous time in the history of Greece. On Oct. 28th,
1940, Greece entered the Second World War when the Italians invaded their country.
A half year later the Germans invaded and occupied Greece. Over 400,000 Greeks
died during the war, mostly civilians. Soon after the defeat of the Axis powers,
communist insurgents waged a three year civil war against government forces. Arsenios
entered military service on the side of the Greek government on April 20th, 1948. He was 23 years
old and served as a radio operator. He worried about having to kill someone and so just prior to
enlisting he made a vow to the Mother of God: “Let me suffer, let me be in danger, only don’t let me
kill anyone; and make me worthy to become a monk.” In return, he vowed to restore the monastery
at Stomio which the Nazis had burned down. He sacrificed for other soldiers — taking the
place of married men on dangerous missions and volunteering to serve when others needed time
for leave. He displayed extraordinary goodwill despite harsh circumstances, always
prayerfully and with his mind on God. His fellow soldiers at first thought him odd but
came to love him. Once, with his unit surrounded, Arsenios stood wrapt in prayer as bullets whizzed
past him. His friends watched in amazement. Soon, air support came and relived their position.
Arsenios would later use this incident and his time as a radio operator as
an example of the monastic life: “Monks are the church’s signalman. When they
make contact with God through prayer, then God comes and helps even more.” Arsenios received
his honorable discharge on March 21, 1950. After the war, Arsenios prepared for the
monastic life. He journeyed to Mount Athos and visited the many hermitages, sketes, and
cells in search of an elder that could teach him the life of stillness or hesychia, the way
of inner prayer that leads to an experiential knowledge of and union with God. He was, as his
biographer Hieromonk Isaac called him, “like a bee darting to fragrant flowers, Arsenios would
rush anywhere he heard there were virtuous monks.” But Arsenios’ first encounters disappointed
him. So he departed for the Skete of Saint Anne, only to take a wrong turn and instead head
toward the peak of Mount Athos. Suddenly, an elderly anchorite with a radiant face and
ragged habit appeared before him. “My child, this is not the path to Saint Anne’s,” he said
before Arsenios even uttered a word. “Where do you live, elder?” asked Arsenios. “Somewhere round
there,” he replied, pointing to the peak, before disappearing. The encounter with this luminous
and unknown anchorite greatly impressed Arsenios: Thoughts filled my mind and so
I related the incident to some experienced elder who told me:
‘That would have been one of the righteous anchorites who live
invisibly at the peak of Athos!’” Arsenios didn’t find exactly what he was searching
for on his first visit to the Holy Mountain, but the experience deepened his
desire to live the monastic life. He returned home to help his father and to provide
for his sisters. But after some time and through intense prayer seeking God’s will, he once again
journeyed to the Holy Mountain, this time to stay. Arsenios learned from his first visit that he
needed to sprout spiritual wings before living a solitary life. So he went to the Monastery
of Esphigmenou, a cenobitic monastery where monks lived in a community under a set of
rules established by the ruling abbot. He worked in the bakery, chapel, and as a carpenter.
Striving to be a good monk, he learned through observation. As one monk later said of him,
“He made humble-mindedness and obedience the foundation of his monastic life and gave himself
over to struggles that reached beyond his limits.” “You know," Paisios later explained to younger
monks, "the whole essence — the secret — of monastic life is in obedience: cutting off
your will…. then the grace of God comes.” The early work of repentance for a monk is a
time of intense spiritual warfare. Arsenios battled against his own fallen nature, against
demons, and even the devil himself … of whom he would only refer to as “the little
trouble maker”and other such names. He struggled to separate himself from the world
and to purify himself of the passions. This work of repentance and contrition he
regarded as the chief work of a monk. He would pray and read the lives of the saints, and especially the Ascetical Homilies of
St. Isaac the Syrian. During this struggle he advanced from novice to the intermediate
stage in the monastic life, being tonsured a rasophore monk on March 27, 1954 and given
the name “Averkios” at the age of twenty-nine. Averkios met many grace
filled elders and ascetics, as he later recorded in his book Athonite
Fathers and Athonite Matters. In all of this, one can now see how God was preparing Averkios
for his mission to the world. Yet he still longed for a life of solitude and stillness and
received a blessing to depart in search of it. Averkios' spiritual wings were still sprouting,
so he settled in the monastery of Philotheou, at that time an idiorhythmic monastery where
the monks lived according to their own rule of life but came together for the divine
services. As one monk later said, “He was an exemplary monk — a hard struggler and a great
faster, who made prostrations like a machine gun shoots bullets.” As another fondly recalled, “His
meekness, kindness, and peaceful character made an impression on all of the fathers at Philotheou.
During his entire stay there, he never once had a misunderstanding with the other fathers. He
brought peace to us all, affecting everyone with his way of life, his character, and his impeccable
behavior toward the fathers. He was ready to help anyone and everyone. Elder Evdokimos would
point to him and say, ‘Now he’s a good monk.’” Averkios was tonsured into the small schema — the
next stage in the monastic life — on March 3, 1957 and given the name Paisios. Having experienced
the cenobitic and the idiorhythmic life, he now hoped to experience the solitary
life. But when he sought counsel in prayer the Theotokos reminded him of the vow he made
before entering the military and directed him instead to the monastery of Stomio in Konitsa.
He retuned home and for three years labored at restoring the monastery. He continued in
strict asceticism but also had to deal with visitors. He did much to help orphans and
the poor, and battled against heretics who were trying to influence the people. He also
directed the transfer of the relics of Saint Arsenios from Kerkyra to Konitsa in 1958.
In 1970 they would be transferred to the Monastery of St. John the Theologian in Sourti,
near Thessaloniki where they remain to this day. The people of Konitsa loved Paisios and urged
him to stay. But his longing for the desert — for solitude and stillness — finally prevailed once
he completed the restoration of the monastery. “The demon often troubles me, even though I have
drive my flesh to exhaustion,” wrote Paisios in a letter while on Mount Sinai. This during a week
of intense spiritual warfare where the tempter troubled Paisios even to the end of the week and
through the divine liturgy on the Holy Summit. “I am grateful to God that He has preserved me —
the battle was so intense. After this struggle, the good God — for He has spared me —
deemed me worthy to receive communion on the Holy Summit. All that day after
communion, I experienced such joy that I cannot describe. I was scattered into
dust from God’s great love and felt His presence near me. That is why the enemy, the
devil, had led this intense battle against me, desiring to deprive me of this spiritual
rejoicing that gave me strength for a long time." Throughout his life, Paisios yearned
for a place of solitude where he could alone encounter God. This desire to
depart to the desert became reality when he journeyed to Mount Sinai to live
as a hermit in the Autumn of 1962. He stayed in the ascetic hermitage
of Saints Galactic and Episteme and, where he once needed to sprout spiritual wings,
he now soared like an eagle. As he later wrote, “When one departs for the desert, away
from the world and material things, his heart immediately gathers close to God and, then, the heart no longer has heartfelt
desires for anything else besides God.” But just as his spirit soared, his
physical body weakened and life long health problems prompted a return to Mount Athos. Returning to the Holy Mountain, Paisios
settled at the Hermitage of the Archangels, part of Iveron Monastery, in May of 1964.
Even here the fruit of the desert did not depart him. He also spent time with elder
Tikhon, his beloved spiritual father who had came to Mount Athos from Russia in 1908
at the age of 24. On January 11, 1966, Paisios received the great and angelic schema from
Elder Tikhon at the Hermitage of the Holy Cross. Later the same year, Paisios had
part of his lungs removed. It was during this time of hospitalization that
he began a long friendship with the young sisterhood of St. John the Theologian in
Souroti, just outside of Thessaloniki. The sisters donated blood to which
Paisios was most grateful. He later contributed materially and spiritually
to their effort to build a monastery. Elder Paisios also found time to dwell in
remote Katounakia, a group of cells on the rugged and remote southern side of the Athonite
peninsula. At this time, pilgrims began actively seeking him out and were thoroughly changed by
the encounter. Like the seminary student whose unbearable problem found immediate relief
through the Elder’s simple advice. As the student later recalled, “I left full of joy,
convinced that there was a path opening for me on the horizon. The Elder’s intervention
decisively affected the rest of my life.” At Katounakia, Paisios continued to experience
divine visitations. As he later recalled, “Once, as I was saying the Jesus prayer in the middle
of the night, great joy welled up within me. I continued to say the prayer, and suddenly my
entire cell was filed with light. It was white with a slight tint of light-blue. My heart beat
sweetly. I continued to say the prayer with the prayer-rope until the sun came up. The light was
so bright! It was brighter than the light of the sun — the sunshine was nothing in comparison. I
looked at the sun and its light seemed washed-out to me, like the light of the full moon. I
saw the light for quite awhile. Afterward, when the light dissipated, and the grace with it,
I couldn’t find any consolation or joy anywhere. I had fallen from a higher state to a lower
one, so I looked at myself like an animal.” Paisios dwelled now on the heights of theoria —
seeing God’s uncreated light active in the world around him. Though he continued to struggle with
his physical health, he was fully illumined by the grace of God and lived as a vessel from which
others could benefit physically and spiritually. Like Theodore from Xanthi, Greece, who began
losing weight and felt greatly fatigued due to a viral infection. He wrote a letter to the
elder to ask for advice on whether he should seek special treatment or trust in the providence of
God and his local doctors. Theodore's condition worsened the next day so he entered the
clinic. After four days of intense pain his doctors found him collapsed on the floor. But,
as Theodore recalls, things changed a day later: "On Sunday morning I woke up and felt an
indescribable strength in body and soul. 'Yesterday, the doctor told me, 'you were in
awful shape.... I can't explain it at all.’ Theodore fully recovered and several months
later visited Elder Paisios. "How are you, Theodore?" he asked me. "Are you well now?" I
supposed he was asking because I had written the letter. "I'm very well," I answered him. "You got
my letter, right?" asked Elder Paisios. I paused, thinking to myself that I hadn't received any
letters from him. But before I could answer, he said, "I didn't write you a letter,
but I answered you in my own way." “I felt an earthquake inside me,” Theodore
recalls “and realized that the elder had made me well by his prayers. ‘Yes, Elder,'
I answered, 'I got it.' I was greatly moved. After I venerated the icons in the
chapel, I went outside and wept profusely." This, just one of many events recorded by eyewitnesses and those who
experienced such wonders. In August of 1968, the elder went to the monastery
of Stavronikita to assist with its revival. He received many visitors and letters there and
remained in contact with his elder Tikhon. Paisios stayed by his elder’s side until his repose in
September of 1968. After elder Tikhon’s repose, Paisios moved into the elder’s cell and once
again found the stillness he desired. “Now that I’ve been freed from the monastery
by the grace of God, and I find myself in sweet stillness (which is mystical prayer
on its own), I’ll remember you more often, and even from very far away. I’ll be very close
to you. Pray that I’ll disappear from the scene, and that other people won’t find me, because
that’s the only way I’ll accomplish my mission. It’s true: when I hide away, then I feel
myself draw near to the troubled world.” And yet in time, it was the world which
drew near to him as monks and pilgrims increasingly visited him for spiritual
advice and healing. After eleven years, the Elder left the Hermitage of Holy Cross for a
hermitage called Panagouda, which is at the foot of a hill and close to the trail that connects
Karyes with Iveron Monastery. He realized that pilgrims could more easily visit Panagouda and
so there the he remained for fourteen years. One day a doctor discovered a
tumor behind a student’s eye. The student and his father visited Elder
Paisios a few days later. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing,” the Elder said with
confidence. Later the next week, when the student arrived for surgery, the doctors
discovered that the tumor had disappeared. The accounts of such events are numerous. Through
his prayer the Holy Spirit worked miracles, wonders, and things beyond our understanding.
In his later years the Elder became an endless vessel of grace which poured out healings
and wonders to all who sought his counsel. He bore all this with great love and compassion,
living in our world and yet communing with God. He experienced divine visitations from Christ, the Theotokos, Saints Arsenios,
Euphemia, and several other saints. The Elder received pilgrims throughout the
day, dedicating the night to God in prayer, vigil, and spiritual struggle. He slept only
a few hours, using as much of his energy as he could to help others. Although he
yearned for solitude and stillness, he humbly accepted his mission to serve others
as he was able. As Hieromonk Isaac wrote, “God and suffering people became the two
axis around which his whole life revolved.” The Elder had the gift of clairvoyance and
foresight. While meeting with pilgrims he might comment, “here come three kids” — even
though no one was in sight. A short time later three kids appeared at the gate. He would greet
pilgrims by name, tell them their life story, and even answer questions before they were
asked without ever having previously met them. One man recalls driving the elder
to Souroti when suddenly the Elder said, “Turn around — there’s a family breaking up right
now.” They drove to a nearby house and found a couple arguing and dividing their things.
The Elder spoke with them and they made up. The Elder healed people of cancer, heart troubles,
and blindness. One man came to the elder because his seven year old daughter couldn’t speak.
The Elder prayed for a year. On Holy Friday, the young girl hugged her father, and spoke
for the first time, “Good Resurrection, dad.” Elder Paisios may have been isolated from the
world but he spiritually tuned in to all that occurred. Once, two monks on their way to
a vigil stopped by his cell for a blessing. “Where you’re going,” he said to them, “pray
and tell the others. Something horrible is happening in Romania — they’re having a civil
war, and a lot of people are being killed.” He saw the events by spiritual means and grieved
and prayed intensely for the suffering people. The Elder only knew how to speak Greek.
But, as Fr. Paul Lampros explained, the elder could still communicate with
foreigners. “I went to see Elder Paisios with a Spanish man named Daniel. Daniel asked
him a question and before I could translate it, the elder answered. Daniel was amazed and he
asked me twice, ‘What’s happening? You’re not translating anything.’ I told him, ‘It isn’t
my fault — he’s answering your questions.’” So they spoke, Daniel in Spanish and the Elder
in Greek, both understanding each other. Even those not in need of physical healing would
receive a blessing. As one Athonite monk recalled, “The fragrance that sprang from the
elder was something else. Many times, when I kissed his hand, I would smell
a supernatural aroma, like myrrh.” As Metropolitan Panteleimon of Xanthi recalled, “I
would hear his words and marvel at his spirit — it was the Spirit of God speaking through his
vessel. This gradually became a steadfast interior certainty for me. Elder Paisios became
for me a guide to Christ, an interpreter of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, a pathfinder for the
road to Heaven and a light in my deep darkness.” The Elder suffered from physical
ailments most of his life. Near the end, he began to hemorrhage and would occasionally
pass out. He departed his beloved Holy Mountain for the last time on October 5th, 1993. He
underwent an operation due to cancer at a hospital in Thessaloniki soon after. During his
recovery he stayed at the monastery at Souroti and continued to receive visitors despite
his condition and intense suffering. He bravely endured the extreme pain of his illness
without complaint: “The asceticism I practiced all these years as a monk,” he said, “hasn’t
done me as much good as my illnesses have.” On July 11th, 1994, he received Holy
Communion for the last time. The next day, Elder Paisios gave his soul into God’s keeping.
Without announcement, he was laid to rest behind the Church of Saint Arsenios at the Monastery
of St. John the Theologian in Souroti. When his repose became know three days later, a large
crowd went to the monastery to venerate his grave. On January 13, 2015, the Holy and Sacred
Synod of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople canonized Saint Paisios,
confirming what was already known in the hearts and minds of many Orthodox
Christians who either met the elder, heard stories about him, or had read one of the
many books he wrote about the spiritual life.
I'm glad this documentary has a good hook, it's what got me to watch the whole thing. Like the guy is fighting voices of the devil telling him to jump off a cliff in the first minute... this might be good...