Αναζήτηση αυτού του ιστολογίου
Κυριακή 30 Νοεμβρίου 2014
Σάββατο 29 Νοεμβρίου 2014
Ο ΓΕΡΟΝΤΑΣ ΤΙΜΟΘΕΟΣ ΤΖΑΝΝΗΣ Ο ΠΝΕΥΜΑΤΙΚΟΣ. ΣΥΜΒΟΥΛΕΣ.16. ΘΑΥΜΑΣΤΑ ΓΕΓΟΝΟΤΑ.
Κάποια
φορά ανέθεσαν ένα κάπως κουραστικό διακόνημα σέ μια αδελφή. Ή αδελφή προσπάθησε
φιλότιμα να το φέρει εις πέρας, αλλά έπειτα ήταν ασθενική από δικού της και
πέρασε πολλή ώρα, από την κούραση άρχισε να μή νιώθει καλά, μέχρι λιποθυμίας.
Εκείνη ακριβώς την στιγμή έρχεται ή Γερόντισσα και της λέει μ' αγωνία: «Τί
έχεις; Δεν είσαι καλά; Ο Γέροντας μού είπε να σού πω να καθίσεις αμέσως, γιατί δεν
είσαι καλά. Μια κυρία δυσκολευόταν στον τοκετό της κι ή μητέρα της ανήσυχη
ζήτησε την προσευχή τού Γέροντα. Εκείνος της είπε τότε: «Πες στη κόρη σου, να της
ζήση ό Θοδωρής». Και πράγματι γέννησε ένα υγιέστατο αγόρι (τότε δεν
χρησιμοποιούσαν υπερήχους, για να γνωρίζουν το φύλο παιδιού) στις 17
Φεβρουάριου, μνήμη τού Αγίου Θεοδώρου τού Τήρων
Και
γι' αυτό το ονόμασαν Θεόδωρο.
Μια
κυρία, πνευματικό παιδί τού Γέροντα, ή X. Β., πού έπασχε από ζαχαρώδη διαβήτη έκ
παιδικής ηλικίας, είχε μείνει έγκυος. Οι γιατροί της επέμεναν, ότι έπρεπε
οπωσδήποτε να κάνη έκτρωση, διότι σίγουρα θα πέθαινε κι αύτη και το παιδί. Ή
κυρία αυτή δεν ήθελε να κάνη τέτοιο πράγμα. Αλλά όλοι οι δικοί της, και μάλιστα
ό σύζυγός της, την πίεζαν πάρα πολύ. Εκείνη κατέφυγε στο Γέροντα. Όταν τού εξέθεσε
την κατάσταση, εκείνος την παρηγόρησε, την στήριξε και την συμβούλευσε σέ καμία
περίπτωση να μην δεχτή να κάνη έκτρωση. Να προτίμηση καλύτερα να πεθάνει και θα
της λογαριαστεί ώς μαρτύριο. «Όμως - συνέχισε ό Γέροντας - μή φοβάσαι, δεν θα επιτρέψει
ό Θεός να πάθεις απολύτως τίποτε, ούτε σύ, ούτε το παιδί. Θα κάνης ένα υγιέστατο
παιδί, και να δεις, πού θα 'ναι και κορίτσι», (ή κυρία είχε ήδη ένα αγόρι). Τελικά γέννησε ένα πολύ όμορφο
κι υγιέστατο κοριτσάκι.
Ένα
πνευματικό παιδί τού Γέροντα, φοιτήτρια, αφού είχε εξομολογηθεί, θυμήθηκε, ότι είχε
ακόμα ορισμένα να πει. Ό Γέροντας, όμως, της είπε, ότι την επομένη φορά, πού θα
ξαναερχόταν στο μοναστήρι, θα την δεχόταν. Ή κοπέλα τότε σκέφτηκε: «Τώρα θα
ταξιδέψω, θα λείψω τόσον καιρό και ποιός ξέρει, μπορεί να μού τύχη τίποτε και θα
πεθάνω και τότε θα φύγω ανεξομολόγητη». Δεν είπε όμως τίποτε. Όταν θα έφευγε από
το μοναστήρι, για να ταξιδέψει στο μέρος, όπου σπούδαζε, πήγε στο Γέροντα να τον
αποχαιρετίσει καινά πάρει την «ευχή» του. Τότε της λέει ό Γέροντας χαμογελώντας;
«Στο καλό να πάς. Ό Θεός μαζί σου, και μην σκέπτεσαι, ότι μπορεί να πεθάνεις.
Όχι, θα ξαναϊδωθούμε και θα τά ξαναπούμε».
Μια
νέα γυναίκα, ή Είρ. Σ. είχε αρρωστήσει πολύ ψυχολογικά. Ήταν τελείως «έξω
φρενών». Οι γιατροί απεφάνθησαν, ότι έπασχε, διότι επιθυμούσαν- πολύ ν' αποκτήσει
παιδί. Ήταν χρόνια παντρεμένη και δεν έκανε. Ό άνδρας της την έφερε στο Γέροντα
να την σταυρώσει, για να γίνει καλά. κι ό Γέροντας την σταύρωσε. Ήταν πρωινή
ώρα. Το μεσημέρι της ίδιας ημέρας ειδοποίησε ό Γέροντας την πεθερά της νέας, ή οποία
ήταν πνευματικό του παιδί, και της είπε: «Θα γίνει καλά ή νύφη σου και σέ λίγο
καιρό θα μείνει έγκυος. Πράγματι έγινε καλά και μετά από 6 μήνες έμεινε έγκυος.
Ό Γέροντας όμως είχε εν τω μεταξύ κοιμηθεί.
Το
Πάσχα τού 1991, το τελευταίο, που έζησε επί γης, ό Γέροντας στο εσπερινό της
Αγάπης, μοίραζε κόκκινα αυγά, στους προσκυνητές, μετά τών όποιων ήταν και πολλά
πνευματικά του παιδιά. Όταν πέρασε κάποια κυρία, πού ή κόρη της ήταν έγκυος,
της έδωσε το αυγό ό Γέροντας και τη είπε: «Να σού ζήση ό εγγονός». Μετά αμέσως
πέρασε μια άλλη κυρία, που ό γιός της ήταν παντρεμένος αρκετά χρόνια και δεν
είχαν αποκτήσει παιδί. Όταν λοιπόν της έδωσε ό Γέροντας το αυγό, της είπε:
«Πάρτο και συ για μωρό».
Μετά
από λίγο καιρό ή κόρη της πρώτης κυρίας γέννησε αγοράκι, η δε σύζυγος τού γιού της δεύτερης έμεινε έγκυος,
και στον καιρό της έκανε κοριτσάκι.
ΒΙΒΛΙΟΓΡΑΦΙΑ. Ο ΓΕΡΟΝΤΑΣ ΤΙΜΟΘΕΟΣ ΤΖΑΝΝΗΣ. Ο ΠΝΕΥΜΑΤΙΚΟΣ.
Syrian Christians: 'Help us to stay - stop arming terrorists'
Syrian Christians: 'Help us to stay - stop arming
terrorists'
Christianity is being extinguished in the land of its
birth and the West is to blame, say Syria's faithful
By Ruth Sherlock, Izraa
Outgoing artillery shook St Elias church as the priest
reached the end of the Lord's Prayer.
The small congregation kept their eyes on the pulpit,
kneeling when required and trying to ignore the regular thuds that rattled the
stained glass windows above them.
Home to one of the oldest Christian communities in the
world, the hard to reach Syrian agricultural town of Izraa has stood the
comings and goings of many empires over the centuries.
But as the country's civil war creeps closer, it is
threatening to force the town's Christians into permanent exile: never to
return, they fear.
"I have been coming to this church since I was
born," said Afaf Azam, 52. "But now the situation is very bad.
Everyone is afraid. Jihadists control villages around us."
A Canaanite city that was mentioned in the Bible,
Izraa has lived through Persian and Arab rule, with St Elias's Church being
built in 542AD - 28 years before the birth of the Prophet Mohammed in Mecca.
During the past four years of Syria's war, its
Christian population has largely stayed put, despite the war destroying much of
the surrounding province of Deraa.
In the last two weeks however, men from the al-Qaeda
linked Jabhat al-Nusra and other rebel groups have captured the nearby towns of
Nawa and al-Sheikh Maskin, bringing the frontline to less than two miles away.
They are now trying to assault Izraa.
Some of the rebels were vetted by the CIA as
"moderate Muslims" and subsequently trained and armed in Jordan, as
part of a US-led program to bolster a non-sectarian opposition to President
Bashar-Assad.
Sunday service at the church of St Elias in Izraa. The
pews are sparsely populated because the frontlines are less than two miles
away. The sounds of outgoing shellfire regularly interrupts the service.
But past experience has rendered such distinctions
irrelevant to Izraa's Christians. After all, in Syria - and on this frontline -
the "moderates" continue to work in alliance with Nusra. And the
conquest of other Christian villages by the opposition has shown that more
moderate factions frequently do little to stop the jihadists imposing their
will.
"It's simple," said Father Elias Hanout, 38,
who led the prayers at Sunday's service. "If the West wants Syria to
remain a country for Christian people, then help us to stay here; stop arming
terrorists."
The pews were sparsely occupied for last Sunday's
service in St Elias, with the choir missing its tenors and altos. Mrs Azam, who
led the hymns, was reluctant to acknowledge the exodus at first, saying the
singers were absent "because of work". But as the tempo of the
falling shells increased outside, she admitted: "People from here are
leaving. Many are applying to emigrate."
Exactly how many Christians have left Syria is
difficult to say, but according to the Christian charity Open Doors, some
700,000 have left the country, which equates to some 40 per cent of Syria's
pre-war Christian population.
Christian leaders in the country warn of an exodus on
the scale of Iraq, where the 1.5 million-strong community that lived there
prior to the first Gulf War is now down to as little as a tenth of its former
size.
The threat to towns like Izraa will be uppermost in
the mind of the Pope during his visit to Turkey this week, amid warnings from
Christian leaders worldwide that their religion might soon lose its foothold in
the very region where it was born.
Looking around his 1,500 year old church, Mr Hanout
warned: "In this land the Word started. And if you delete the Word here,
then Christianity across the world will have no future."
Evidence of the Church's heritage is everywhere in
Izraa's narrow streets. Across from St Elias, lies the chapel of St George, an
octagonal stone building that is said to be one of the most ancient churches in
the world. Dating to 515 AD, it was originally converted from a pagan temple,
and an inscription on its stone lintel reads: "Hymns of cherubs replaced
sacrifices offered to idols and God settles here in peace, where people used to
anger him."
The church of St George is said to be the oldest
continuously inhabited church in syria and one of the oldest in the world.
Photo: Ruth Sherlock/The Telegraph
Today, Izraa remains a mixed down of both Christians
and Muslims. And in early 2011, when the uprising in Syria was defined by
popular protests rather than war, a small number of Christians had welcomed the
calls for regime change.
That changed when the Islamists began to dominate the
rebel ranks.
"Nobody wants these men to advance," said
one resident said, who asked not to be named. "They are frightened of
their town being overrun by Islamists,"
Instead Izraa's Christians have sought solace in the
government's defences, and increasingly blame the West for their suffering.
Mrs Azam added: "When evil comes you have to
defend your country. We love our government, just as we love our country."
The picture in Izraa is one repeated across other
Christian pockets of Syria. Christian homes in Deir Ezzour, Raqqa, and in
Hassakeh, home to the Syriac Christians, the oldest denomination on earth, are
all devoid of their inhabitants. From Homs too, a major Christian stronghold,
many have left.
Some Christian residents initially remained in the
Christian town of Ghassaniyeh in northern Latakia province when it first fell
to the rebels in mid-2012. A few weeks later however, Islamic extremists took
control of the terrain. Christian men were kidnapped, captured or forced to
flee.
They desecrated the church, ransacked homes and murdered the priest.
Even in Bab Touma, the Christian quarter in the old
city of Damascus, residents told the Telegraph they were looking to leave.
Eva Astefan, 43, said she applied to the United
Nations for asylum, after her 14-year-old daughter, Adel was shot and killed by
a rebel sniper in 2012.
Eva Astefan, 43, is seeking asylum after her 14 year
old daughter Adel - in the photo - was shot by a sniper. Photo: Ruth
Sherlock/The Telegraph
The family had been driving down the highway back to
Damascus after attending the "Feast of the Holy Cross" in nearby
Maaloula, when a hail of bullets pierced their vehicle, one entering her
daughter's skull who was sitting in the back.
Mrs Astefan's nephew, Joseph Haroun, 29, said:
"Its our country and we love it, but we feel we have little choice.
"The terrorists - referring to the opposition
rebels - kidnap and kill our men and dangle the holy cross over their
bodies."
It is not just Christian's who are suffering. The war
in Syria is political as well as sectarian, and, as it draws closer to Izraa,
the town's schools and municipal offices have become impromptu shelters for
thousands of refugees from all sects.
Only a small number of the fighters near Izraa are
from Nusra, with many of those fighting coming from local Sunni families.
Abo Mohammed, a frail Sunni man in his early sixties -
who spoke using a pseudonym - told how of men who were his neighbours, fellow
Sunnis, killed his "whole family" in revenge because his son is
serving in the Syrian military.
"They entered our house in al-Sheikh Maskin and
attacked my son, my brother, my brother's children and my nephew. They broke
their arms and legs and then threw them from the roof. I am the only one who
escaped," he said, tears welling in his eyes.
It is precisely because al-Qaeda is weak in the south
of Syria, that the West and its allies have concentrated on sending weapons to
rebels in this area.
An elderly lady sits in an ancient shrine in
Damascus’s old quarter Bab Touma, where she has been coming since her birth.
Residents from other sects have been able to return to
their homes, even when they are in rebel control, but Christians fear that if
they leave and their town is then captured by the opposition - even one led by
western trained groups - they will never be able to return.
So, they put their hopes in the Syrian military that
is now protecting the town. At the main entrance to the town are sandbagged
army checkpoints, plastered with posters of President Bashar al-Assad. Military
vehicles, laden with weapons, drive full-pelt across the intersection down the
road that marks the beginning of the frontline.
In Izraa, shop fronts have been painted in the Syrian
flag to rouse nationalist fervour, the graffiti of past anti-government
protests has been scrubbed out or painted over.
Instead, the sense is of having been abandoned by
other "Christian nations" such as America and Britain, no matter what
the promises of their leaders are.
As another priest in Izraa, who asked not to be named,
put it: "Please tell Mr Cameron, we don't want any help or donations - but
please, equally, stop arming terrorists."
Παρασκευή 28 Νοεμβρίου 2014
Η Παναγία οικονόμησε … Όρος 2014 ( Μέρος 7 ) Νώντα Σκοπετέας.
Από
την πόρτα την βαριά του Μοναχού Ανδρέα
Μπαίνουμε
εκεί που μοιάζουνε όλα Αβραμιαία !
Τα
λείψανά του καθαρά , Παράδεισο φωτίζουν
Κι
οι Μοναχοί τη λάμψη του να κερδηθεί πασχίζουν !
Οικείοι
Θεού να γίνετε Αγίων συμπολίτες !
Ευχή
μας δίνουν Γέροντες , οι αγαθοί Λευίτες …
Σκύβουν
ετούτοι οι ταπεινοί και σου φιλούν το χέρι
Αξέχαστο
παντοτινά κείνο το μεσημέρι !
Εσπερινός
της Αγίας Ευφροσύνης στην Λαύρα . Κουρασμένοι μα χαρούμενοι αληθινά για όσα
αξιωθήκαμε και σήμερα την δεύτερή μας μέρα να βιώσουμε . Πλέον αν με ρωτήσουν
πόσες φορές έχω έρθει στο Όρος , ξέρω τι θα απαντήσω : Αμέτρητες ! Όχι με ένα
νούμερο ! Μα με την αλήθεια την μέσα μας ! Τροπικό και ουχί ποσοτικό το ζήτημα
! Κάθε μέρα , που εδώ και τόσα χρόνια ζήσαμε στο περιβόλι της Παναχράντου ,
έχει χαράξει βαθιά στο είναι μας , μια ανεξίτηλη φράση που συνέχεια και αβίαστα
επαναλαμβάνεται : Ο Θεός είναι αγάπη και έλεος ! Πριν την τράπεζα και το
Απόδειπνο παρατηρούμε έξω απ το καθολικό , το κουβούκλιο με τις μαρμάρινες
«πινελιές» του Τηνιακού γλύπτη Γιαννούλη Χαλεπά , κορυφαίο του δημιούργημα κατά
την περίοδο της δικής του «νεκρανάστασης»….
Σκέφτομαι πως εδώ που πατάμε , δέκα
αιώνες τώρα έχουν σταθεί 27 πατριάρχες, 150 αρχιερείς, 170 ηγούμενοι, 3.400
ιερομόναχοι, 45 διάκονοι και 14.000 μοναχοί ! Αυτά μαρτυρά το μητρώο του
Μοναστηριού , μαζί με τους Εξήντα Αγίους της Ορθοδοξίας μας που έστω και για
λίγο πορεύτηκαν στην Λαύρα ή σε κάποιο από τα εξαρτήματά της . Ιστορία που
αναζητά την συνέχεια , καρτερά την κοινή Ανάσταση . Τότε που όλοι οι Λαυριώτες
θα ανταμωθούν σε μια χορεία αιώνιου αίνου και λατρείας
Στην Παράκληση της
Κουκουζέλισσας , λίγο πριν το νύχτωμα , κοιτώ τα ονόματα των Στρατιωτικών Αγίων
που ανδρειοφρόνως σκιάζουν τον δεξιό χορό όπου καθόμαστε . Οι Άγιοι Γοβδελάς ,
Πρόβος ,Τάραχος , Αρέθας , Ιάκωβος ο Πέρσης … «Παραπονεμένοι» στον έξω κόσμο .
Λίγοι τους γνωρίζουν και τους τιμούν . Εδώ στο Όρος κάθε σελίδα του συναξαριού
έχει το ίδιο άρωμα , το ίδιο στάξιμο από κερί ανόθευτο , και δάκρυα ασυγκράτητα
. Εδώ όλοι οι Άγιοι λαμβάνουν την τιμή που τους ανήκει .
Αυτήν που κέρδισαν με
το αίμα και την αφοβιά της πίστης μας . Αυτήν που βοηθά όσους τους επικαλούνται
, να λαμβάνουν από τα αμίαντα χέρια τους ακεσώδυνα γιατρικά ψυχής τε και
σώματος . Ο οίκος της Αγίας στον βροχερό όρθρο ακούγεται σαν προτροπή αντίθετης
«πλεύσης» στην σημερινή τρικυμία . Ο Βίος της υπερβαίνει κάθε λογική και
καταπλήσσει .Η Ευφροσύνη που γίνεται ο μοναχός Σμάραγδος , για να καταπατήσει
το πυρ των ηδονών και για να κρατήσει την παρθενία . Για να καταφρονήσει τον
κάθε πρόσκαιρο μνηστήρα και να ζήσει δικαίως και ευσεβώς , προσδοκώντας τον
αιώνιο Νυμφίο της.
Το
λεωφορείο ξεκινά αχάραγα για τις Καρυές . Δεν προλαβαίνουμε πολλά . Μια
τελευταία προσκύνηση , μια μετάνοια , ένα κοίταγμα στα λιγοστά εωθινά αστέρια ,
στο δέντρο του Αγίου . Ως κυπάρισσος υψουμένη εν νεφέλαις …Θαύμα του
Λαυριώτικου Παραδείσου . Η Παναγία οικονόμησε να το χαρούμε .
Βρέχει
στον Άθωνα και μια ομίχλη σκεπάζει κυρίαρχα το τοπίο . Χαλκός και μολύβι ,
τρούλοι και καμπαναριά , της αντιστέκονται τρυπώντας το λευκό πέπλο της .
Παραμυθένια ομορφιά . Καιρός ευλογημένος όπως όλοι . Μπαίνουμε στο πάντα
φιλόξενο Σεράι . Πρωί στις 10 . Πλέον η μορφή του δεν θυμίζει σε τίποτα την
μελαγχολική του εικόνα την παλιά, την σχεδόν ξεθωριασμένη … Στο προαύλιο κορμοί
κυπαρισσιών στρέφουν το βλέμμα σου στο διπλανό κοιμητήρι , ασβεστωμένοι με
σταυρούς ζωγραφισμένους πάνω τους, σαν δείκτες ουρανίων μονών , σαν πυξίδες
ζωής του μέλλοντος αιώνος . Η μεγάλη σιδερένια πόρτα μας φέρνει στο νου τον
μακαριστό Γέρο –Ανδρέα με τους δυο Μοναχούς κατά σάρκα γιούς του . Εκείνος την
μαστόρεψε όταν πρωτόρθαν για να ξαναστήσουν την ερημωμένη σκήτη . Είχε ωραίο
λείψανο όταν τον βγάλαμε ! Καθαρό ! μας είπε με χαρά ένας δόκιμος μοναχός . Λάμπει
ο Παράδεισος στα λείψανα των Αγιορειτών.
Γι
αυτόν μόχθησαν και αυτόν γεύονται στις Ουράνιες πλέον μονές …Γι αυτόν μοχθούν
και οι συνεχιστές τους!
Πήραμε
δωμάτιο στον δεύτερο όροφο κάτω από το αρχονταρίκι . Μαζί μας και ο Χαράλαμπος
, αδελφός εξ Αθηνών «πρωτόμπαρκος» στο Αθωνικό ταξίδι . Τον καλέσαμε να μας
ακολουθήσει σε έναν ψυχωφελή περίπατο στις ώρες που έμεναν ως την Τράπεζα και
τον Εσπερινό . Δίστασε στην αρχή, λόγω καιρού και βροχής . Μα όταν μας είδε
απτόητους και αποφασισμένους μας ακολούθησε . Λίγες ώρες μετά θα μονολογούσε :
-Το καλύτερο μεσημέρι της ζωής μου !
Η
βροχή που κατά διαστήματα έπεφτε αθόρυβα και ελαφρά , δεν μας ενοχλούσε , μα
έκανε τα βήματά μας προσεχτικά . Τα πετρωτά μονοπάτια πάνω απ τις Καρυές
γλιστρούσαν αρκετά . Αργά-αργά πήραμε τον ανηφορικό δρόμο για ένα αγαπημένο μας
κελί . Είχαμε αρκετό καιρό να συναντήσουμε τον Γέροντα Σ. και την συνοδεία του
. Έσκυψε εκείνος ο γλυκύτατος και μας φίλαγε τα χέρια . Τον Νικόλα τον
αγκάλιασε και τον φίλησε στο κεφάλι . -Δεν είχα νιώσει ποτέ ξανά μου έτσι ,
τέτοια ζεστή αληθινή αγάπη ! μας εκμυστηρεύτηκε βγαίνοντας ο αδελφός μας
…Άρχισε να μας μιλά λοιπόν ο πάτερ και εμείς έκπληκτοι να διαπιστώνουμε ότι
μιλούσε για ό, τι απασχολούσε τον καθένα ξεχωριστά! - Τα άλογα αν βρουν χορτάρι
θα φάνε ! Έτσι γίνεται και με τους λογισμούς που μας ταλαιπωρούν
…Οι ακάθαρτοι
πυρπολούν τις ψυχές μας με δυσωδία ! Όσο πιο καθαρές είναι αυτές τόσο δεν θα
βρίσκουν τροφή να βόσκουν ! Και κάτι άλλο ...Ο Γέρο Παϊσιος έλεγε πως μια
κασέτα αν παίξει πολλές φορές κάποτε θα ξεφτίσει και δεν θα ακούγεται τίποτα !
Αν όμως καθίσεις και βγάλεις αντίγραφά της ….- Όλα είναι μέσα μας παιδιά μου !
Και οι εχθροί μέσα μας είναι ! Μα και η Βασιλεία των ουρανών ! Μαγνήτες και τα
δυο . Και εμείς παλεύουμε ποιος θα μας ελκύσει ! Και η μοναξιά αδέλφια μου
εντός ημών εστί . Η ερημιά είναι εσωτερική ! Αν αγαπάς όμως δεν έχεις ούτε
ερημιά ούτε μοναξιά ! Για σκεφτείτε τους ασκητές στον Άθωνα …Αυτοί δεν
γνωρίζουν μοναξιά κι είναι μονάχοι τους , άνθρωπο δεν συναντούν για μήνες
ολάκερους ! Προσευχή και νηστεία συνέχεια ! -Η νηστεία ξέρετε δεν είναι κάτι
σχετικό , κάτι που ο καθένας το διαμορφώνει , έχει δογματική υπόσταση αφού
είναι Θεού εντολή ! – Άρα παιδιά μου η μοναξιά είναι κάτι που από εμάς
εξαρτάται …
Ακούω τώρα με αυτά τα μέσα κοινωνικής δικτύωσης που οι περισσότεροι
νέοι όλη την ημέρα είναι μπροστά σε μια οθόνη και στέλνουν μηνύματα …Το
facebook ….Εκεί να δείτε μοναξιά …Μου ήρθε ένα παλικάρι και μου λέει : Πάτερ
έχω 1500 φίλους περίπου στο facebook! Μα αισθάνομαι πολύ μόνος μου ! Ε βέβαια
του λέω ! Αν δεις τον οποιονδήποτε από αυτούς στον δρόμο θα τον γνωρίσεις
αμέσως ; Μάλλον θα τον προσπεράσεις χωρίς να τον καταλάβεις ! Ενώ αν δεις έναν
αληθινό σου φίλο έστω και με την πλάτη γυρισμένο ανάμεσα σε 1500 ανθρώπους ,
είμαι σίγουρος πως αμέσως θα τον καταλάβεις ! Δεν ζεις εκεί μέσα παιδί μου
αληθινή ζωή ! Προσπάθησε να το ελαττώσεις και να παίρνεις μόνο ό,τι ωφελεί την
ψυχούλα σου !
Σκέφτομαι
τούτη τη στιγμή , πως ο Γέροντας μιλά για όλους εμάς που συνεχώς
συμπνευματιζόμαστε και πορευόμαστε σε μια συνεχώς επιδιωκόμενη εν Κυρίω
συναλληλία …Και μιλάμε συνεχώς μεταξύ μας για τον Θεό …Και ελάχιστα στον Θεό
για εμάς …
-Πρέπει
παιδιά μου να αγαπάμε ανεξαίρετα και αληθινά όλους τους αδελφούς μας! Όταν ο
Γέροντας Παϊσιος βρισκόταν στα τελευταία του στη Σουρωτή κάποτε ήταν περίπου
χίλιοι άνθρωποι για να πάρουν την ευχή του ! Αυτός παρ ότι αποκαμωμένος από την
αρρώστια, στάθηκε όρθιος και απλά είπε να περάσουν όλοι από μπροστά του και
εκείνος τους ευλογούσε χωρίς να μιλήσει σε κανέναν . Και οι χίλιοι που πέρασαν
από μπροστά του ( μετά το συνειδητοποίησαν οι περισσότεροι όταν μίλησαν μεταξύ
τους ) έλεγαν το ίδιο : -Έτσι όπως με κοίταξε ο Γέροντας , μου φάνηκε ότι με
αγάπαγε πιο πολύ απ όλους ! Είδατε πόσο ανεξαίρετα αγαπούν οι Άγιοι, όπως ο
Άγιος Θεός μας ! Όπως αγαπάτε εσείς τα παιδιά σας ! Να μιλάτε στα παιδιά σας να
γίνετε οι πρώτοι τους πνευματικοί ! Και να τους μιλήσετε και για την άλλην ζωή
. Για αυτό το πέρασμα ! Για να πιστέψουν όμως τα παιδιά πρέπει να πιστεύουν και
οι γονείς ! Και να μην τα μαλώνετε με το παραμικρό ..γιατί έπειτα δεν θα σας
εμπιστεύονται και θα σας κρύβονται και θα σας λένε ψέματα…Και το ψέμα ξέρετε
γεννάει …Δεν υπάρχουν μικρά και μεγάλα ψέματα ! Ένας ξεκίνησε να μιλάει σε έναν
Δεσπότη και είπε ένα μικρό αθώο φαινομενικά ψέμα , ότι κάπου είχε πάει δήθεν
ενώ δεν είχε ..Αυτό όμως έκανε εντύπωση στον Δεσπότη που ξεκίνησε να τον ρωτάει
διάφορα για εκείνο το μέρος …
Και ο δύστυχος αναγκάστηκε να πει ακόμα δέκα
ψέματα για να καλύψει εκείνο το πρώτο ! Και πως ντράπηκε να ομολογήσει στον Δεσπότη
ότι τελικά δεν είχε πάει πουθενά ! Μα να μην είμαστε αληθινοί μόνο στο στόμα
αδελφοί μου ! Να μαστε και στις πράξεις ! Σας κούρασα όμως ! – Εμείς Γέροντα
που σας χαλάμε την ησυχία ! Ο Χαράλαμπος ρώτησε κάτι για την βασκανία … -Παιδιά
μου να κρατάτε πάντα Αγιασμό του μήνα στο σπίτι ! Κάθε αρχή του μήνα να
παίρνετε από την Εκκλησία ! Και να πίνετε το πρωί και να στάζετε και λίγο πάνω
στο κεφάλι σας ! Να δίνετε και να ραντίζετε και τα παιδάκια σας ! Και τους
Αγίους να τους τιμάτε ! Να τους έχετε φίλους σας ! Για να έχετε έπειτα και το
θάρρος να τους ζητάτε ! Ήταν ένας που έχασε μικρός τον Πατέρα του . Ευλαβής και
αγαπούσε πολύ τους Αγίους !
Αρρώστησε σύντομα και η μητέρα του ! Μου λέει
λοιπόν κάποτε : Πάτερ μόλις το έμαθα πήγα αμέσως στην ενορία μου στην Αγία
Παρασκευή που είναι δίπλα στο σπίτι μας και της λέω με δάκρυα : Γειτόνισσά μου
έχασα τον πατέρα μου , σε παρακαλώ μην χάσω και την μάνα μου ! Και ζει η μάνα
του ακόμα σήμερα είναι κοντά στα 90 ! Έτσι την ένιωθε την Αγία ! Γειτόνισσα ,
συγγενή του , αδελφή του ! Έτσι και σεις να αποκτήσετε γείτονες Αγίους και
συγγενείς ! Να γίνουμε όλοι μας παιδιά μου Οικείοι Θεού και συμπολίτες Αγίων !
Πέρασαν
ώρες σε εκείνο το κελάκι ! Βγήκαμε έξω όλοι μας ανακουφισμένοι και χαρούμενοι
τόσο ! Ο Γέροντας με την Θεόσδοτη καλλιέπεια του μίλησε σε όλους μας ! Τα λόγια
του τα τόσο βαθιά σε νόημα ήταν πλέον δικά μας . Μαγνήτες στις ψυχές μας , να
αποδιώχνουν την πολύκοσμη ερημιά της , να την γεμίζουν με τον μόνο Θεό ! (
συνεχίζεται …)
Ανακομιδή Λειψάνων νέου Ιερομάρτυρος ενός αγνώστου μάρτυρος, του Ιερέως Βασιλείου Καραπαλίκη, ο οποίος το 1902 βρήκε μαρτυρικό θάνατο από τους απογόνους της Άγαρ, με σφαίρα και με πέλεκι συντρίβοντας την κεφαλή του.
Στο χωριό Χιλιόδεντρο της Ιεράς Μητροπόλεως Καστορίας και μέσα στην κατανυκτική ατμόσφαιρα του Εσπερινού, έγινε η ανακομιδή των Ιερών Λειψάνων ενός αγνώστου μάρτυρος, του Ιερέως Βασιλείου Καραπαλίκη, ο οποίος το 1902 βρήκε μαρτυρικό θάνατο από τους απογόνους της Άγαρ, με σφαίρα και με πέλεκι συντρίβοντας την κεφαλή του.
Επρόκειτο για ευλαβές πρόσωπο, το οποίο σέβονταν ακόμα και οι Τούρκοι. Ο φθόνος όμως, για την εν γένει αγία του ζωή, εκίνησε εναντίον του το μένος των κατακτητών.
Στα 112 χρόνια που πέρασαν από τότε και με τις συνεχείς θαυματουργικές επεμβάσεις, τις εμφανίσεις και την προστασία σε πρόσωπα του χωριού του και της οικογενείας του, καθιερώθηκε ως μάρτυρας της Εκκλησίας.
A MIRACLE OF THE ARCHANGEL MICHAEL WITH SUDAN AIR.
A MIRACLE OF THE ARCHANGEL MICHAEL
WITH SUDAN AIR
It was a beautiful spring morning in
the far away country of Sudan. There was unusual activity at the international
airport of the capital of Sudan. In
addition to the regular flights that were taking off there were an unusual
number young people present filling the waiting rooms of the terminal. An educational excursion had been planned for
that particular day for the young students.
School songs and happy voices could be heard breaking the monotonous
routine of the airport where planes were continuously landing and taking
off. Suddenly the public address system
announced: “All those who are part of the educational tour and their guides should
prepare to board the airplane. The plane
is scheduled to depart in five minutes.”
A river of young people rushed to the boarding area where their plane
was waiting. The plane was ready to
board in three minutes. The pilot, who
was a young athletic type, not much older than the student passengers, was one
of the best pilots of the airline. He
welcomed the young students aboard and promised them that they would have a wonderful
flight. Everything was now ready for
takeoff.
The captain checked the instruments
one last time and then announced to the control tower that everything was ready
for takeoff. The control tower gave the
pilot the latest meteorological forecast for the trip. All indications showed that the weather was
good for the planned trip and the tower wished the captain a good flight. Within a short period of time the airplane
was racing down the runway and lifting up into the morning sky like a huge bird
on its way to its destination which was 500 miles away. The plane had covered about 100 miles and
everything appeared that they would have a great flight with blue skies in
every direction. The young passengers
were enjoying the great views of the ground below. The topography below them appeared like a
huge live map with villages, rivers and verdant plains. The airplane hostess continuously pointed out
to the students what they were seeing below.
The captain also took his turn on the
intercom system giving a description of the airplane and its technology. It was truly a wonderful trip. The captain then radioed the tower giving his
location and the weather conditions. The
tower responded that it did not foresee any change in the weather throughout
the course of the flight. The captain
turned off the radio and then started to talk to the passengers on the intercom
when he suddenly noticed in the distance a very black cloud. He turned off the intercom and grabbed the
control stick and directed the plane below the cloud so that the passengers
could see the ground below them. The pilot had now taken the plane below the
cloud when he saw before him another even blacker cloud with flashes of lightning
and thunder. They had flown directly into
a tempest.
Upon seeing this second cloud, the
pilot gained altitude in order to avoid the cloud formation. The altimeter indicated that he was at 8,000
feet and the storm was still intense. He
then climbed higher in the sky. The
altimeter showed that he was now at 10,000 feet, the maximum limit of the plane. The passengers began to become uneasy. The visibility was zero. The hail was pelting the windows of the plane
like bullets. The thunderbolts and
lighting lit up the sky like enemy artillery trying to shoot down the plane
from the sky. The stewardess calmly attempted
to reassure the passengers that everything would be all right.
The airplane was being bounced around
like a toy in the fearful arms of the storm.
The plane was creaking and the altimeter was now at 12,000 feet. The captain calmly began a descend. He kept moving down to 8,000 feet, then to
6,000, then 5,000, 4,000, 3,000, and then 2,000 feet and the conditions were
the same. At this altitude the pilot was
now afraid that he might hit a mountain top and so he began to climb again. He ascended up to 8,000 feet and then
attempted to contact the control tower with his wireless radio to report his
situation, his location and to report the weather conditions. Instead of receiving a weather report, he
found that the wireless was dead. He then immediately turned on the plane radio
and that too was silent. He felt a cold
hand squeeze his heart. He looked at a
map and attempted to find his exact location but this was also useless. In his attempt to avoid the terrible storm,
he had lost all sense of direction. He
also could see that the co-pilot was in a state of total panic. Seeing the panic in the eyes of his co-pilot,
the captain again tried to communicate with the tower with his wireless radio.
All of these efforts were in
vain. The violent weather had destroyed
all forms of communication. He again
attempted to find his location on the map and again he came up empty. In similar circumstances, the courage and
calmness of the captain usually brings about good results. The captain turned again to his co-pilot and
found him motionless. He asked him to be
calm because the situation had become very critical and they must keep the
passengers from panicking. The
passengers were very close to being panic stricken. The stewardess, not knowing about the
critical situation they were in, tried every possible way to calm the
passengers. Truly, the situation was
very critical. The captain, without
having any sense of direction, no wireless, no radio, or where he was in this endless
storm, was no longer able to pilot the plane properly. He began to fly in circles, climbing and then
descending attempting to maneuver out of the storm. The plane was now flying blind.
Time was passing and the plane was
scheduled to land at its destination in two and a half hours. The fuel supply was getting critically low.
There was no help and no light at the end of the tunnel. The passengers knowing how long the flight should
have taken began to cry. Even the
stewardess lost control of her emotions and she could no longer offer any help
to the passengers.
It was useless for the captain to convey
a sense of calm to the passengers. The
co-pilot was now a basket case incapable of offering any help. In the midst of this angst, the captain
looked at the fuel gage and then began sweating. They had about twenty minutes of fuel
left. At this point, even the captain
was losing all hope. He felt like crying
but he controlled himself. He was now sure
that they were headed for a catastrophe.
He engaged the automatic pilot, laid his head on the controls and
surrendered to the fate that was awaiting them. Suddenly the pilot was seeing
something like a movie playing in his head.
His whole life was passing in review.
While watching this play out in his mind, he became startled and said to
himself, why of course now I understand.
In the images of his thoughts, Greece appeared; the island of Mytilene
to be exact.
He
was of Greek ancestry and his mother hailed from the village Sikamnia, Mytilene. He remembered that as a small boy, he visited
his mother’s village, Sikamnia in order to visit his grandmother and his
relatives. He even remembered that his
pious mother would often speak to him about the miracle working icon of the
Archangel Michael in Mandamadou. He
remembered that he had visited Mandamadou as a young boy in order to venerate
the miracle working icon of the Archangel.
He also remembered that he felt a chill go through his body when he
first saw the bas-relief of the Archangel Michael. He was now hearing clearly the words of the
elders who said to him about the icon:
“The Arab, my child, when you call upon him with faith he will always be
with you, willing to help you. We have
witnessed many miracles first hand during the wars.” Remembering this
pilgrimage from his youth, the captain regained hope and truly believed in the
power of the Archangel Michael. He
lifted up his hands and shouted with a load voice: “My Archangel, my Arab, save
us, save us, and I promise to light a candle in your honor as tall as I am and
I will also offer you a gold image of our plane. These I will place before your image. “
As the captain was relating this story
to a priest of the Church in Mandamadou, Greece, Nicholas Hatzoglou, the
captain of the airplane stood up trembling, turned yellow, and made the sign of
the Cross. He was still living those unusual
circumstances of his life and he continued to tell me the rest of the story
with difficulty: “At that moment, the
very black clouds opened up below us and the blue sky reappeared. It was
like a curtain opening up for a theatrical performance. There below us was the
airport of our destination, bathed in sunshine. I thankfully took control of the
plane and in a short time we were landing at the airport. Upon landing, I
looked at the fuel gage and noticed that we had only five minutes of fuel left.
When the opportunity first became available to me, I took leave of my job and came
here today, my dear Reverend Father, in order to thank my Saint and my savior.
I offer him my thanksgiving and my reverence.
I also offer him the two items that I had promised him.”
In his hands, which were trembling, he
was holding a gold mock up of his plane.
He was fulfilling his fervent promise to the Archangel. I looked at him with emotion. I saw in his weeping eyes the satisfaction
one feels in fulfilling a great obligation.
My tongue became heavy and I could not talk. My eyes hurt as I was trying to hold back my
tears. The only thing I could say was to whisper: “Wanting to show the fortunes
of men are not dependent on themselves, but are always held in His Divine Hand,
the Maker of all has given you to the kingdoms of the earth as a defender and
keeper, that you may prepare all the tribes and peoples for the Kingdom of God
that is eternal. Therefore all of us
knowing your great service for the salvation of mankind; cry to God in
thanksgiving: Alleluia!” Kontakion—A hymn to Archangel Michael.
Translated
from the Greek by:
+Fr.
Constantine (Charles) J. Simones, Waterford, CT, USA, November 26, 2014
860-460-9089, cjsimones300@gmail.com
Dear
People,
Having
read this wonderful contemporary miracle performed by the Archangel Michael, I
would like to also share with you the history of Archangel Michael’s miraculous
appearance at this Orthodox Monastery in Mandamadou, Mytilini, Greece in the 10th
century. I have personally made
pilgrimages to this shrine many times during my visits to Greece. In fact, the photograph of the bas-relief at
the end of this article was taken by me personally. It is truly a special
feeling to be in the presence of this unique sculpture that was created from
the elements of martyred Christian blood and fine white sand. During the tenth century when the Byzantine
Empire was at the height of its development, the Saracen pirates were also very
active in the Mediterranean. They would
attack the islands of the Aegean and especially the Monasteries. They would plunder, burn, murder and take
hostage many of the inhabitants of the islands and the Monasteries. These hostages would end up in the slave
markets of the Middle East. Fr. CJS
We learn the details of this miracle
and the history of these islands from the local inhabitants which have been
handed down to us from generation to generation. The Monastery of Archangel Michael was built
like a fortress with high thick walls and towers. The pirates had taken notice of this
particular Monastery and they were determined to plunder it. This particular attack took place during the
springtime when the monks were preparing the Monastery buildings for Holy Week
and Pascha. The leader of the pirates
that wanted to attack this Monastery was called Sirhan. He was a giant of a man. He always looked fierce and angry. He gathered his men together and said to
them: “This time we will enter the Monastery.
The only thing that I want from the Monastery is the gold cup with which
the monks use for the Divine Liturgy.
You may have everything else that you find there. Sirhan was armed with an ax and a sword. They set sail for Mytilini. They arrived at the Monastery about midnight
and hid amongst the trees surrounding the Monastery.
As we said previously, the monks had
been white-washing the buildings of the Monastery in preparation for the Easter
holidays. That particular night the
monks felt secure because it was still winter and they did not assign a lookout
to protect the Monastery from the marauding pirates. At one point during the night, the simantron
was sounded calling the monks to prayer.
The simantron is a long carved piece of wood that is struck with a
mallet. Tradition tells us that this is
what Noah used to call the animals to his Ark.
One could hear the footsteps of the monks as they hurried on the wooden
verandah as they came down to the Church.
In a little while everything was quiet.
At that very moment the leader of the pirates gave the signal. One of the pirates threw a hooked rope over
the Monastery wall. He climbed over the
wall, jumped down into the courtyard and proceeded to unlock the large main
door of the Monastery. The pirates
entered the Church while crying Alu Akbah.
Before the monks could come to their senses from the sudden attack, they
were quickly put to death.
A novice monk, Gabriel, was in the
altar with the abbot when the attack took place. He quickly exited the altar through a window
and ended up on the roof of the Church.
The pirates saw the young novice exit the altar. They followed him up onto the roof. Almost immediately a load noise was
heard. The roof of the Church appeared
to be transformed into a ragging ocean.
Above the foaming waves appeared a huge and angry Soldier. He was holding a sword that was giving off
tongues of fire. He lunged at the
pirates. The pirates fled for their
lives as they abandoned their weapons, the stolen items and fled in panic. The novice Gabriel was the only one that
remained alive from the attack. He was
overwhelmed by the appearance of the Archangel Michael. When he came to his senses, he quickly ran
down from the roof and went into the Church to see if any of his fellow monks
had survived the attack. When he
ascertained that they were all dead, he went up to the icon of the Archangel
Michael in the Church and prayerfully asked:
“What kind of face was that that I saw on the roof of the Church? My beloved Archangel Michael intercede to the
Lord that He will grant repose to the souls of my brother monks, also inspire
me to be able to form the beauty of your face the way I saw you on the roof of
the Church.” Suddenly, as if inspired by
the Archangel, he looked for a sponge and an earthen vessel. He knelt reverently in the Church next to each
of his dead brother monks and sponged up their martyred blood and filled the
earthen vessel with it. He then went
outside the Church to get white fine sand.
He mixed the blood with the white fine sand that was all around the
Monastery. He took the mixture and
immediately began the task of shaping the face of the Archangel as he saw him on
the roof of the Church. From the very
beginning of his effort to form the face of the Archangel, he felt the very
physical presence and help of the Archangel.
His hands felt as if they were being guided by an invisible force. He quickly formed the face of the
Archangel. It was the same angry face
that also had a divine countenance.
As this drama unfolded at the
Monastery of the Archangel Michael, the people who lived nearby were unaware of
the horror that was taking place at the monastic community. But there was a shepherd boy that night that
could see the ocean from high on a hill.
He suddenly saw the pirate ships anchored near the shore. He mounted his horse and proceeded toward the
Monastery in an effort to warn the monks.
When he arrived at the Monastery the scene that he found there caused
him to faint. When he came to his
senses, he proceeded to inform Alexi, the village elder of Stenaka what
happened at the Monastery. Alexi
immediately left for the Monastery accompanied by fifty others on
horseback. When he entered the Church he
could not believe what he saw. He found
the slaughtered monks. They were all
bathed in blood. The abbot was found
dead in front of the altar table. He
clinched his teeth as he went into the courtyard desiring very much to avenge
the killings. The men mounted their
horses and followed the trail to find the pirates. They approached a high point on the hill that
looked down over the sea. They stopped
suddenly for the scene they saw before them made them shudder. They saw those whom they had been chasing
dead and scattered all over the hill.
They had been killed by one thrust of a sword. The thrust of the sword went from the
forehead all the way down to the belly.
Their bodies had been literally cut in two. The cut of the sword was exactly the same on
each of the pirates. They all believed
it was divine retribution meted out by the Archangel.
In the meantime, two pirates who had
been waiting on the shore for their fellow pirates to return from the Monastery
began to worry about their delayed return.
They decided to climb the hill and look for their brother pirates. When they reached the top of the hill and saw
their dead fellow pirates they immediately returned to their boats. Their leader was also waiting for their return. They informed him about the tragedy that had
befallen their fellow pirates. As soon
as he heard the news, he hit the table with his hand and pledged to someday
seek revenge. This revenge came the
following year when Sirhan put a plan together to capture the village of
Stenaka. A year later the pirates
disembarked quietly on the shore and prepared themselves to attack the city at
sunrise. They believed that the residents
would be sleeping without being aware of the impending attack.
During this very crucial moment for
the city of Stenaka, the Archangel Michael intervened again. Stephen, the son of the mayor Alexi, had just
prepared to retire for the night, suddenly saw before him the Archangel
Michael. He was very striking in his silver attire. His blond hair fell upon his shoulders and
his silver clothing reflected off his wings.
He held a fiery sword in his right hand.
His left hand was lifted up and outstretched. He smiled at the young man and with a sweet
voice said: “Get up Stephen. Go
immediately with your father to prepare for the defense of the city. The Saracens are coming to obliterate
you. Do not be afraid! I and your patron Saint will be at your
side. We will protect you and we will
direct you. The pirates have anchored
their ships down below where your city is.
A few of them will attack the castle first so that you will think they
are not attacking the city. They will
then unlock the doors of the castle.
Then they will attack you at sunset.
You should be prepared to defend the city.”
Everything unfolded just as the
Archangel had said it would. When the
pirates attacked they found the defenders at the ramparts of the city. At that very moment, a group led by Stephen,
who had quietly gone down the embankment to the shore, set fire to the pirate
ships. The pirates saw the light from
the fires; they panicked and ran for their lives. The panic that followed is beyond
description. As they were running toward
the ocean the defenders of Stenaka pursued them on horseback and the pirates
were decimated. One group of pirates led
by Sirhan, managed to escape the attack and attempted to hide themselves in the
forest. But the group of defenders from
the city that set fire to the ships encircled and annihilated them.
Since that time many centuries have
intervened. The Monastery was eventually
destroyed by the constant attacks of pirates.
In the eighteenth century an old small Church was replaced with a new
and larger one. But the bas-relief of
the Archangel Michael has been preserved there since the tenth century. It is the very same one that was formed by
the hands of the novice monk Gabriel. It
continues to have the same life-like features.
It has been unscathed over the centuries in spite of the fact that
thousands upon thousands of pilgrims reverence it by kissing it. Some the faithful try to take chips from the
bust. These of course leave marks on the
face. But miraculously these marks
quickly heal themselves. You must
remember that the bust has been created from the mixture of human blood and
sand. Also remember this is no ordinary
human blood, it is the blood of martyrs.
Every now and then the eyes of the Archangel become filled with
tears. The faithful gather up these
tears with cotton balls. To this very day
astounding miracles are performed for those who hasten to the shrine with
faith. The Archangel continues to
perform profound miracles like the one that is referred to at the beginning of
this article with Sudan Air.
+Fr.
Constantine (Charles) J. Simones
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