Pilgrim Testimonies
Kenanidis Konstantinov, Doctor of Theology, Thessaloniki
I met Elder Paisios in 1975. I was only eight years old then. Since then, I have been going to Mount Athos every year and seeing him. Over time, our communication became more and more frequent. As a teenager, I had various problems, but the elder remained a source of comfort and hope for me, a guide to salvation: he found solutions to all my problems. We discussed absolutely everything with him.
He used to say that if we have bad thoughts or any carnal worries, we should avoid them and replace them with good thoughts. And this is so because bad thoughts ultimately lead us to bad actions, and good ones help us to do good.
Regarding abstinence, he used to say: those young people who manage to remain pure before marriage will be considered martyrs. In the same way, those young people who want to become monks keep themselves pure before they put on the robe. The ancient martyrs, he said, experienced martyrdom through their blood. Today's young people, in order to remain pure, endure the struggle of conscience and the mockery of others; they are martyrs of conscience. The martyrdom of conscience is sometimes more painful than the martyrdom of blood. He said that the sexual instinct must be "put in the refrigerator" before marriage and honestly perform the feat before God for the love of God. Only in this way can we solve this problem. When I was a teenager, I often talked to the elder about relationships with the opposite sex. The elder spoke about the love that young people declare through their relationships. He said that in most cases he was bitterly convinced of the lack of true love in these relationships. He told me: “You say you love a girl, you want to see her more often. Do you really love her? Imagine her face burned, turned into an ugly, deformed mass. If, seeing this ugly face, you continue to love her as before, then you can be sure that you truly love her.”
As a teenager, I was involved in many sports, including running. The elder would jokingly say: “You should run not horizontally, but vertically, towards God.”
When I was in high school, I asked the elder: “How can a person, when choosing a profession, be sure that it will be pleasing to God?” He answered me: in order to choose correctly, you need to consult with someone whom you have complete trust; this person must have selfless love, to see your calling and help you. I remembered this, and when I had to decide what job to choose, I went to the elder and reminded him of the conversation we had had. “The only person I have complete trust in,” I said, “is you. What would you advise me?” The elder smiled his usual smile and said: “For me, I say this before God, the most responsible profession that a person can fulfill is a kindergarten teacher. But it is also the most difficult, because a teacher creates souls. By creating souls, you create people who are created in the image of God. And so you become a collaborator with God, just like parents when they give birth to a child. If you cannot become a kindergarten teacher, become a teacher. This is also a responsibility. And if you cannot become a teacher, become a lecturer.” I said that as far as I know myself, I cannot become a lecturer. He immediately told me: “Of course you will become a lecturer, and a theologian!” Hearing the word “theologian,” I resisted. Because at that time I not only did not think about it, but I was even against it. That day I left the elder with a feeling of resistance. In the end, I chose medicine, took the necessary preparatory courses and began to prepare feverishly for the exams.
At that time, I thought a lot about the elder and visited him often. Every time I came to him, he would gently say to me: “Here is the theologian!” At that time, I was quite uncomfortable. And I would answer: “Father Paisios, don’t tell me that, I will definitely not become a theologian.” But the elder insisted: “You will become a theologian, you will see!” This insistence of his made me think, but my resistance did not decrease and my attitude towards the medical faculty remained unchanged. Time passed, but every time I came to him, the elder would say to me: “Here is the theologian!” In February 1985, I woke up and something had changed in me. I felt a strong desire to study theology! Without wasting time, the very next day I went to Athos, came to the elder’s cell and told him about my new decision – to study theology. He accepted this decision with joy and several times told me to think again and make sure that I was sure of the correctness of my decision. As a result, I entered the theological faculty and received a diploma in four years.
In the same year that I decided to become a theologian, the idea of quitting sports occurred to me.
I asked the elder for advice and he told me: “Do it right away. Such things must be stopped. There is nothing to think about.” But still it was difficult for me and I asked him to let me go to the last competition, just for moral satisfaction. Then he answered me:
“This is not moral, but immoral satisfaction, because all the selfishness and vanity that are characteristic of people are revealed in sports competitions.” But I still wanted to go to the last race. The old man understood this and said: “Okay, if you insist so much, go.” And I really took part in the international meeting, which was held in Athens in 1986. And what happened? Immediately after the start, some athlete stepped on my foot. Sneakers, as you know, have spikes on the soles, so I immediately started bleeding. But I didn’t pay attention and continued running. During the same race, another athlete hit me in the face with his elbow and blood gushed out, so I could have choked and died on the spot! All this, of course, happened with God’s permission for my perseverance. In the end, I reached the finish line, but did not take any prize place. The next day I went to the old man. When I told him what had happened to me, he consoled me, smiling, and reasoned with his boundless fatherly love.
The elder wanted me to have a blessing from my spiritual father before I asked him any question. He would tell me: “You have a spiritual father, why are you asking me?” We discussed a question with him only when he was sure that I had a blessing for it.
In the spring of 1989, a Greek, a research chemist from the European Committee, came with me to Mount Athos. This was his first trip to Athos. The elder, seeing him, said: “You are a scientist, aren’t you, good man? It seems to me that you have an extraordinary mind! You have been conducting an experiment for so many years and have kept the liquid at such a high temperature that it evaporates. That is why you cannot continue your experiment!” The researcher was silent, trying to make sense of what the elder had said. When he understood and realized that the old man had actually shown him the reason for his mistake, he immediately approached him and bowed. As he later told me, he had been working on an experiment for many years and had not been able to complete it.
Once, when I was visiting the old man, three foreigners came to him - an Englishman, an Italian and a German. I offered to translate, but the old man said that there was no need for that. He took them aside into his garden and began to talk to them. He talked for quite a long time. When he returned, he said to me with a smile: “We talked, we talked to them!” He really talked to them, he spoke Greek, but each of them heard his own language!
Another time I found many people sitting in his “living room”, as the old man called the stumps in his garden. Then he began to question each one about his work. Each answered in turn. When it was the turn of the young man sitting next to me, the old man said to him: “You, Michalis, have recently found a job in Kalamata. You are doing well!” The young man was shocked. I tried to calm him down, explaining to him that this was quite normal for the old man and that he had no reason to be surprised.
Once, people came to the old man who had turned to a medium; they had traces of demonic influence on them. The old man very delicately explained to them the reason for their condition, made them understand in simple words, as was always typical of him, that they had made a mistake by turning to a medium and participating in some other demonic seances. At that time, I was greatly impressed by the old man’s deep knowledge of spiritual phenomena and the accuracy of his words. Many analysts, psychologists and theologians would envy his method and words. After talking with him, a person would leave with the feeling of a huge wave of love and grace that emanated from the old man and spread around him.
He said that when you raise children, you have to set boundaries. Of course, you have to give them freedom, but not absolute freedom, as some diplomats in Athens once did, leaving their children alone in a separate apartment: they would break and smash everything. He jokingly said that if at that age children break chairs, then later they will break heads…
During the period when I was studying biology, I had a long conversation with him about the creation of the world. The elder claimed that everything was created by the Holy Spirit. He made me understand that Darwin’s theory of evolution was absolutely wrong, as were the theories that followed. He explained to me in very simple words that God created the world.
When I told him that there are professions in which it is difficult to pray and work at the same time, the elder was categorical: “You must try to sanctify your profession.”
Another time he told me: "If you have a deceased who has boldness before God, and you light a candle for him, then he is obliged to pray to God for you. But if you have a deceased who, as it seems to you, does not have boldness before God, then when you light a candle for him, it is as if you gave a cold drink to a person who is burning with heat"...
One day in August 1996, I lost my briefcase, which contained a laptop and a wooden cross made by the elder and given to me. On the hard drive of the computer there was a scientific paper on which I had worked for five years during my stay abroad (unfortunately, I did not keep a copy). Since the briefcase contained a gift from the elder – a cross, I hoped that the Lord would help me. And I began to pray to Saint Arseny. Two days later I felt the presence of the elder. On the third day in the afternoon a woman called me and said that she had found the briefcase!
When we talked about the patience that the Lord shows us, the elder said: “I am a beast! How can the Lord tolerate me?” And he did not say this with feigned self-abasement, he believed it, he felt it.
When the explosion in Chernobyl happened, an event that we learned about later, in connection with the radiation that spread everywhere, he said that there was nothing to be afraid of: before eating something, he would cross himself and then eat it.
According to the elder, if a person does not know what to choose – marriage or celibacy, he should pray a lot and do what his heart tells him, and not logic or circumstances. Not to do what he thinks is best, but what he feels deep down, what he wants, what brings him joy. Once someone came to him and said that he was thinking of becoming a monk. The elder told him: “If that is all you are thinking about, then you better find a girl and get married.” He was not interested in leading a person to one way of life or another, but in helping him make the right choice. From the very beginning, he discouraged monks from wanting to live as hermits, saying that it was safest for a monk to live in a communal monastery, where he could practice obedience. Later, after several years of conscientious asceticism in a communal monastery and with the blessing of his spiritual father, he was able to continue his asceticism alone, in the wilderness, under the guidance of an experienced confessor. After visiting a monk, I heard the elder say, “These novices today are not novices at all, they do not obey. Today, confessors obey their novices, and novices do not obey their confessors!”
I was very impressed by the elder’s patience when he had a hernia. It got to the point where he could not stand up straight and would lie down on the ground. And he spoke to the pilgrims so patiently. Once he jokingly said to me, “The last time he came, the hernia was like an orange. Now, when he came again, it has become like a melon.” I asked him if he would have an operation, to which the elder replied, “Let me suffer a little, so that some sin may be forgiven me. Let me suffer a little.” When the elder wanted to carry something heavy and someone tried to help him, he would not let him, but would only say, “May some sin be forgiven me!”
