Όρος ασύνορο

Τέλος, τέρμα και άκρια δεν έχει το Άγιον Όρος
Όπου οδηγεί η Παναγιά, γίνεσαι Χριστοφόρος
Ανόθευτή του η ομορφιά, θάλασσα  η ευλογία
αχείμαστή του η άνοιξη, ζώσα η μαρτυρία.
 

Στων πρεσβευτών του τις μορφές, θυσία  του ελαχίστου
στων καντηλιών τους τις φωτιές, η επίγνωση του απίστου.
Δεν είναι απόδημη η καρδιά που γεύτηκε το Θείο
Να μεγαλώσει σαν ποθεί της χάρης το δοχείο
 
Μύρια ψηφιά δεν μου αρκούν μια εικόνα του να φτιάξω
Σε εικονοστάσι αθωνικό να βρω να συνταιριάξω.
Και μύριες λέξεις κι αν γραφτούν το αιώνιο δεν τ’ αγγίζουν
Όνειρο αχειροποίητο πλάθουν ψυχές  που ελπίζουν...
 
Κάθε φορά που στου Άθωνα τα αγιομέρια πατάς, όταν το άμοιαστο δαντέλωμα του γαλάζιου του σε σαγηνεύει και πάλι, νιώθεις πως ξανασυναντάς μια καρδιά αφημένη, αγκυροβολημένη για πάντα εκεί. Δεν είναι απόδημη η καρδιά που επιστρέφει σε μέρη που αναπαύεται! Άκουσε κάποτε ο Κύριος το σπαραχτικό της “Καλόν εστίν ημάς ώδε είναι” και δια πρεσβειών της Μάνας όλου του κόσμου και πυλωρού του επίγειου τούτου παραδείσου, οικονόμησε ένα μόνιμο ολοδικό της στασίδι-απάγκιο, σιμά σε πολυκάντηλο Θρονί, σε Προστασία Φοβερή, σε Γοργοϋπήκοο βοηθό, σε Ελαιοβρύτισσα Γερόντισσα δεόμενη στον μέγα Χορηγό…
 
Τον πρώτο-πρώτο  ζήλο μας αναζητάμε, σαν τον δρόμο ξαναπαίρνουμε για το Όρος. Τον πλατυσμό της θηριάλωτης καρδιάς μας προσδοκάμε, σαν το άγριο στενεύει το άγιό της. Αρχινά και πάλι ένα οδοιπορικό θαυμασίων εμπειριών σε Θεοτοκοβάδιστα μονοπάτια. Εκ προοιμίου το μόνο που είναι γνωστό για της ψυχής την γραφίδα, είναι πως είναι πάμφτωχες οι λέξεις για να εξιστορήσουν όσα τα μάτια είδαν και όσα οι εύλαλες σιωπές του Όρους αντήχησαν. Ένα μικρό ψηφιδωτό ας δώσει ο Κύριος να ξαναφτιαχτεί με αυτά τα παντοτινά θυμητάρια. Στο πίσω μέρος του να στάξει καθαρό κερί και να κολλήσει άλλο ένα διαμονητήριο με τα ονόματα των φιλαγιορειτών- συνταξιδιωτών.
 
Μετά από δέκα και πλέον χρόνια καταγραφής της σωστικής μνήμης, μια ευχή μονάχα σε τούτο το ξεκίνημα. Μια ψυχή έστω, να επιστρέψει από της απιστίας την μακρινή την χώρα, να οδηγηθεί νοερά στην αιώνια άνοιξη του ασύνορου Αθωνικού λειμώνα, να γευτεί με τα ακροδάχτυλά της την γλυκύτητά του, να οσφρανθεί  τους ανθούς του,  σαν εκείνοι  προσφέρονται σε εσπερινή ατέρμονη διάχυση, να συμποθήσει τη σωτηρία με όλους εκείνους που παλεύουν καθημερινά με τον μισόθεο εχθρό, τον ακοίμητο.
 
Νέοι αθωνίτες εν σώματι άγγελοι προστίθενται στο άγιο συναξάρι παραμυθώντας τις πολιορκημένες ψυχές μας. Αναρίθμητοι αφανείς σημειώνονται  συνέχεια στα ιερά κατάστιχα του άνω στερεώματος  σαν το ζεστό σώμα τους παραδοθεί στο χώμα του περιβολιού της Κυρίας Θεοτόκου. Μια ψυχή έστω, να βρεθεί διαβάζοντας τούτες τις σελίδες, να μιμηθεί όσους στεφάνωσε ο Ουρανός…
 
Νώντας Σκοπετέας
 
To βίντεο είναι εδώ

Ο κόπος της αγάπης

 
Σε μια σκήτη του Αγίου Όρους, ένας υποτακτικός που ήθελε να περιποιηθεί τον Γέροντά του, βγήκε στο βουνό να μαζέψει χόρτα. Από άγνοια, όμως, μάζεψε κάποια χόρτα που ήταν εξαιρετικά πικρά, σχεδόν δηλητηριώδη στη γεύση.
 

Μαγείρεψε τα χόρτα και τα σέρβιρε στον Γέροντα. Εκείνος άρχισε να τρώει σιωπηλός. Έφαγε όλο το πιάτο του χωρίς να αλλάξει η έκφραση του προσώπου του.
​
Όταν ο υποτακτικός πήγε να φάει τα υπόλοιπα, με την πρώτη μπουκιά κόντεψε να πνιγεί από την πικράδα. «Γέροντα!» φώναξε έντρομος. «Αυτό είναι φαρμάκι! Γιατί δεν μου είπατε τίποτα; Γιατί το φάγατε όλο;»
 
​Ο Γέροντας τον κοίταξε με απέραντη γαλήνη και του είπε:
 
​«Παιδί μου, εσύ κόπιασες να τα μαζέψεις, εσύ άναψες τη φωτιά, εσύ τα μαγείρεψες με αγάπη για να με ταΐσεις. Ποιος είμαι εγώ που θα σου έλεγα ότι ο κόπος της αγάπης σου είναι πικρός; Μου έφτανε η γλυκάδα της πρόθεσής σου, η πικράδα των χόρτων δεν είχε σημασία».

Pilgrimage to the Holy Mountain

 
Mount Athos - The Holy Mountain
 

I am sure most people here will know something about Mount Athos, but first a few quick facts for those who know the least.
 
Mount Athos, the Holy Mountain, is a peninsular in northern Greece, about 130 kilometres east of Thessaloniki. It is about 50 kilometres long and 7 kilometres wide. It is steep-sided, rocky and forested with many types of trees. The peak, in the south, is just over 2,000 metres high.
 
It is part of Greece, but an autonomous region under the direct jurisdiction of the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople. There are 20 Orthodox, monasteries on the peninsular and a number of much smaller communities, called sketes, and kellia, cells, where an individual monk might live an isolated life. Most monasteries are Greek Orthodox but there is also one Russian, one Bulgarian and one Serbian monastery.
 
The oldest monastery, Great Lavra, was founded in 963. All but one of the monasteries was founded between the 10^th and 14^th century; even the newcomer is over 500 years old. There are many ancient buildings and Byzantine frescoes.
 
In total, today, there are about 2,000 monks. At the beginning of the last century, there were about 7,000. A few years ago, numbers had dropped lower than they are today; but in recent years more young men are choosing the monastic life.
 
There is now a simple network of roads connecting each monastery to its own jetty and making it possible to travel by road between monasteries. Each monastery might typically have its own ‘fleet’ of, maybe, ten vehicles. Most journeys are undertaken on foot. Electricity started to reach Athos in the middle of the last century, though it has never been on the national grid. Monasteries have their own generators and, in the last few years, some are turning to solar power.
 
The Holy Mountain is known as the Garden of the Panagia. No women are allowed to set foot there. The only female presence must remain that of the Panagia. The closest a women can get is by taking a boat tour along the western coast of the peninsular; the boat must keep 100 metres from the shore. Yvonne and I took this boat in the summer of 2023. I had spent two weeks on the Holy Mountain the previous autumn and I wanted her to see where I had been, and where I was going back, for a second visit, that autumn.
 
Most visitors make their own way to the mountain as independent travellers. Before you travel, you must apply for a Διαμονητήριο - a permit, which you collect from an office as you depart for the mountain on the boat from its port at Ouranoupoli. Visitors are allowed to stay for four nights. Visitor numbers to the Holy Mountain are described as having ‘skyrocketed’ in the last two years. Much of this is due to increased numbers coming from eastern Europe. Last year there were some 200,000 visitors. New restrictions have been put in place which will more than halve this number. The monasteries make no charge for accommodation, or for meals they provide.
 
I will say more about the life of a monastery and its monks; in short, a monastery is concerned with prayer. A monk’s day is said to have three elements: 8 hours working for the monastery community - according to his skills and interests: maybe, growing food, working in the kitchen, making small items, such as κομποσχοίνι - prayer ropes, to sell to pilgrims; or studying.  8 hours, at least, in communal or private prayer which leaves up to 8 hours for sleep and eating.
 
What was I doing on Mount Athos?
 
I have travelled to the Holy Mountain twice as a member of a working party organised by the Friends of Mount Athos. There were about thirty of us in the group. When we arrived on the mountain, we divided into smaller groups of about four or five, and stayed in various monasteries.
 
The work we carried out was to clear the footpaths on the mountain to make it easier for other pilgrims, and the Holy Fathers, to move around between the monasteries. This involved cutting down old or dead trees that might have blocked the paths if they had fallen under the weight of winter snow and clearing the vegetation, much of it thorny, that threatened to over-run the paths. We were walking and working six or seven hours a day, except on Feast Days and Sundays.
 
The footpaths on Athos are either footpaths, as we know them in an English woodland, or καλντερίμια, ancient stone footpaths. Occasionally, the work would involve something other than clearing footpaths: I spent a day picking grapes at Hilandar monastery and one day I helped the Father who doubles up as the carpenter at Vatopedi monastery, create an inventory of tools. On two days, when at Vatopedi, the work I did was controversial: let me explain.
 
Friends of Mount Athos was founded in 1990 at the suggestion of King Charles who has visited the Holy Mountain many times over several years.  The Friends describe themselves as: a charity dedicated to the study and promotion of the history, culture, arts, architecture, natural history, and literature of the Orthodox monasteries of Mount Athos.
 
The King’s vision was a simple one: that volunteers would help maintain the mountain using only hand tools. Wildfires are a major concern on Mount Athos, as they are all over Greece.
Athos has its own fire brigade and in several places they have cut the forest to create fire-breaks. Each small working party needs to have a Greek speaker as this may be useful in an emergency. I do not speak good Greek, but I speak a useful amount of it; this was my role on the team. A fireman was planning to open up some very old and badly overgrown καλντερίμια - not as a fire break, but to create points of access to help fight any fire.
 
He needed to have a party to follow behind him and clear away to the side the branches and vegetation that he cut down. Αβράμ, was going to be using an industrial scale strimmer, with a heavy battery on his back.
 
The controversy was this: my team was going to be helping Αβράμ in his work - using a power tool. Was this contrary to the King’s vision of using hand-tools only. Was the King going to be displeased when we got home and heard about this? The management was worried; as it turned out, the King was OK about it.
 
As I have said, most pilgrims are allowed to stay on Mount Athos for four nights. On both of my visits, because we were working to benefit the community of monasteries, I was able to stay for a fortnight each time. This made a huge difference to me: the first few days I was there, I was in a state of mild shock - everything, but everything, was so different to what I had experienced previously.
 
After a few days, I adjusted to the new normal: everywhere, monks in black gowns, many with spectacular beards; I was aware I was in the presence of deeply spiritual people - the Fathers and pilgrims; I was spending two or three hours a day hearing the liturgy - beautiful and strange sounds in utterly beautiful, but mainly dark, καθολικόν - a monastery’s main church or chapel; meals -two a day- taken in the communal dining room, the τράπεζα, in silence, with a Father reading from scripture - wonderful simple vegetarian food; sleeping in dormitories. In one monastery, the shower was a hosepipe attached to the cold-water tap, there being no hot water tap. So different to what I was used to.
 
The first monastery I stayed at was Hilandar. This is the Serbian monastery; most of the Fathers and most of the pilgrims were Serbian. The liturgy was conducted in Church Slavonic. I heard hardly any English or Greek. The typical Serbian pilgrim, stays for one night, venerates the important icons and relics, and leaves the following day. I stayed in a dormitory for a couple of nights - before we got an upgrade - with forty Serbians, typically middle-aged men, several in military camouflage clothing.
 
Usually, my group of four or five had a small dormitory to ourselves. It was certainly a cramped space, as we also had to store our tools and equipment.
 
Clothing is an interesting topic. It was an important feature of the Friends of Mount Athos that the pilgrims in our party must at all times, and in every way, behave perfectly. We wore nothing but dark clothing, mostly black, our arms were always covered. We never touched our food until the Fathers had started to eat theirs. Whatever hardships we experienced, we never complained, but always expressed our gratitude. The group had built up a reputation for good behaviour over thirty years; we needed to maintain it.
 

Some of my companions would get up at 3:00am and attend the liturgy. I usually got up at 6:00am and attended the last hour of it. Then we would take the first meal of the day. We aimed to be leaving for work by 8:00am We would break for lunch - mostly, the snack we had brought with us, sometimes, the kitchen would send us off with bread, cheese and some fruit; we would work till about three and walk back to where we were staying. Then a shower, and an hour or two’s rest or writing up of our diary, then maybe two hours attending the evening liturgy; followed by the last meal of the day. In the evenings, we might meet up with a Father who would show us around the monastery, or entertain us to mountain tea in his cell; or we would talk among ourselves.
 
We were usually in bed just after 9:00pm. Night sounds were the snoring of our neighbours and, sometimes, the calls of jackals on the mountains.
 
Pilgrimage
 
A pilgrim sets out on a spiritual journey quietly, with solemnity and humility. Otherwise, he is merely a traveller, or even a tourist.
 
A pilgrimage is a purposeful journey. Some undertake a pilgrimage in order to recharge their spiritual batteries; for some, the pilgrimage has an element of penance - they come to make amends for something they have done and to seek forgiveness; others seek a spiritual or physical healing - for themselves or for others.
 
When I travelled to Mount Athos the first time, the first pilgrim I met -at Gatwick airport- was an American from Chicago: he had visited Mount Athos a few years earlier to pray for his mother who had cancer. He kissed the belt of the Panagia in Vatopedi monastery and took home to his mother a cloth that had been blessed before the belt. She was cured. He was returning to give thanks.
 
A pilgrimage has several distinct elements. Throughout the ages, including in pre-Christian times, and in relation to faiths other than Christianity, the pilgrim has been a man of faith. Some may be uncertain in their faith and the purpose of their journey may be to questions it, or test it. There may be some who have no faith, but travel in search of faith. In whatever way, faith is central to a pilgrimage.
 
A pilgrimage is likely to involve some preparation; this may be a matter of spiritual preparation or simply a matter of packing carefully. The first time I went to Mount Athos, I bought a new rucksack - the bright yellow one I took with me when I was sleeping on Greek beaches in the 1970’s no longer seemed appropriate. I packed a good supply of raisins, sultanas and nuts. I was nearly 70, likely to be the old man of the party. I was signing up for some hard physical work, to which I am a stranger, so I walked as fast as I could up the many steep hills of Bristol to get fit, and was glad I had.
 
I have always seen a pilgrimage as involving a journey, often a long and hard journey. My journey to Athos, from leaving home to setting foot on the mountain, took almost two days. At each stage of it, I took some pleasure in the mild hardship it involved:
 
Yvonne gave me a lift to the bus station - I travelled on the Megabus with the youngsters; the Leventis Foundation, which sponsors the cost of flights and accommodation for the Friends of Mount Athos, put us up in an airport hotel; I had just fallen asleep when, at midnight, my room-mate turned up: a loud New Zealander who had just flown in from Auckland; we got up at three for our 6am flight. By the time I arrived at the jetty of Hilandar monastery, I was certainly a weary traveller.
 
As I have said, my own particular experience of life on the Holy Mountain involved some physical discomfort in terms of the very basic accommodation, lack of sleep and hard work. I enjoyed this. I think a level of tiredness, an abundance of fresh air and living a simple life, can help open one up to one’s spiritual dimension.
 
The most important aspect of my time on the Holy Mountain was attending the liturgy, for several hours a day. I am not Orthodox, but I find the Orthodox liturgy very appealing. I appreciate its simplicity and its timelessness. These aspects are particularly present in the monasteries of Mount Athos: the same liturgy, the same words, have been celebrated there for many hundreds of years by monks dressed just as they are today. The chanting in some monasteries is simply beyond words.
 
Because I am not Orthodox, I had to attend the liturgy in the outer narthex of the monasteries - right at the back of the καθολικόν. It was no problem; other pilgrims and some monks, particularly the older ones, chose to stand there in the prayer stalls. Once or twice I almost fell asleep standing up in my stall. The sound of the liturgy and chanting seemed to float through to the narthex. It was a wonderful sound.
 
After the evening meal, I would sometimes go with others to venerate icons or relics in the main body of the church. These are glorious, colourful, rich, historic spaces. It was a privilege to be in them. My own favourite was a small side chapel in Vatopedi monastery, that was higher than it was wide or long; there were about ten stalls, usually occupied by nine monks and me. And, of course, one is always aware that one is in these spaces in the presence of some deeply spiritual men. I found this had some strong, undefinable impact on me.
 
Who are the monks on Mount Athos? They are, of course, men of profound spirituality and commitment to their faith. The come from a range of backgrounds; some are simple, not particularly educated men; some are highly academic or have particular skills, such as icon-painting or bookbinding. Some are deeply impressive, not only for their spirituality, but for their wider qualities.
 
I have a Greek friend who is an academic, a sociologist, who as a young man spent many weeks in the libraries of Athos researching the question: why did monks become monks? He met Father Paisios.
 
I had the impression that some of the Fathers would have had successful careers in the ‘outside world’, if I may call it that, had they not become monks. I think, for example, of an evening my group spent with the Deputy Abbot of Hilandar monastery. He entertained us in a space set aside for receiving visitors. When one arrives in a monastery one is always served, typically, a coffee, a shot of tsipouro and λουκούμι, what we here call Turkish delight.
 
That evening, the coffee cups had golden handles, the tsipouro was highest quality, the λουκούμι - the best I have tasted: with coconut. The Deputy Abbot was an imposing man, he spoke no English, but he spoke Greek. I translated; my group was on its best behaviour. He was a gracious host.
 
Other evenings, in the monasteries of Dionysiou and Grigoriou, we spent with an English monk; both about 60 who had been in the monastery for about 30 years. One had been in a rock band. The other was a bookbinder who showed us ‘behind the scenes’ in the monastery and introduced us to a monk at work in his icon-painting studio. They served us mountain tea.
 
in Vatopedi, an American monk, who used to ride a Harley Davidson as a young man, spent two evenings showing us some of the many items in the monastery’s treasury. Some monasteries have wonderful libraries where, centuries ago, many monks diligently copied, not only the scriptures, but also works by writers of the classical period in Greece. They helped preserve the ancient texts.
 
One evening during the liturgy, I noticed a young, novice monk who seemed to be suffering psychologically, he looked very unhappy. I made a point of finding him after the evening meal. He was from Syria. He seemed to appreciate me speaking to him but said he could not speak to me because he did not have the Abbot’s blessing to do so. Monks essentially say goodbye to their families when the join a monastery; occasionally the Abbot may give a Father a blessing to visit his family or to receive a visit from male members of his family in the monastery. I think there are few who have what it takes to be a monk.
 
A pilgrimage is not to be undertaken lightly. But it certainly has the capacity to be a deeply rewarding experience. One aspect of this is talking to others about it afterwards, so thank you for hearing my account of my Pilgrimage to the Holy Mountain.
 

Winter on Mount Athos
 
When I was on the Holy Mountain, I was constantly aware I was walking in the footsteps, not only of Saints, but of other well-known pilgrims. The ones I thought of in particular were Nikos Kazantzakis and Patrick Leigh Fermor. Kazantzakis visited Athos with the great Greek poet, Angelos Sikelianos, in winter 1914. When I visited Kazantzakis’ Museum in Crete, I bought a copy of the diary he kept at the time. I took it with me to Athos and read relevant parts of it. It was while he was on Athos that he met Αλέξης Ζορμπάς who, at the time, was a monk.
 
Patrick Leigh Fermor was British travel writer who at the age of 19 walked from the Hook of Holland to Constantinople; on the way he visited Mount Athos. He almost died there. I commemorate this in my poem Winter on Athos.
 
At the time I wrote the poem, I was staying at Dionysiou monastery. It was such a friendly place, the monks clearly got on well with each other. I imagined them having a snowball fight in the winter. The following year I met a Dutch pilgrim who had been there a few years earlier and had video a snowball fight - the images are ones he took.
 
 
Winter on Athos
 
 
As Winter opens wide her arms
To embrace and hold the Holy Mountain,
Blizzarding snow impedes and slows
The ascent of the Jesus Prayer to Heaven.
 
The fall is deep. Walls built to keep
Pirates out, now gird and insulate
Against the plunder of pitiless cold
That threatens to snatch the frail and old.
 
A hungry wolf comes warily down
And pads the path to a hermit’s cell.
At night, the shrieks of jackals slice
The muffled banks of steep ravines.
 
Down one of which Leigh Fermor fell,
Not twenty yet. He spoke with Death
But a guardian angel lifted him out
And delivered him to a roaring hearth.
 
Above the pantile roofs, there rose,
In winters past, high wisps of smoke,
Gentle grey against the white,
From fires where fingers splayed for heat.
 
Young tonsured monks and novices,
When a depth has settled, are kids again -
Someone starts a snow-ball fight
And the black robes are soon white-splattered.
 
What they need is a snowman friend:
One grabs a shovel, another a carrot
And a Jack-the-lad dares to hang
A monk’s black veil from the frozen crown.
 
But they don’t have the Abbot’s Blessing.
This spells trouble. He has seen their games;
And decided to turn an indulgent eye,
Sure that God will be smiling too.
 
Richard Devereux

Ομιλία για το Άγιον Όρος

 
Μέσα στο πλαίσιο των διαδικτυακών Κατηχήσεων, που γίνονται κάθε Δευτέρα βράδυ, θα έχουμε την ωραία ευκαιρία να παρακολουθήσουμε μεθαύριο Δευτέρα 19 Ιανουαρίου τ.έ. μια ενδιαφέρουσα ομιλία (στην Αγγλική) του αγαπητού μας Richard Devereux, ο οποίος είναι Ποιητής, Φιλέλληνας και Νομικός, με θέμα «Προσκύνημα στο Άγιον Όρος».
 

Ο Richard είναι τακτικός προσκυνητής στον Άθωνα και γνωρίζει αρκετά καλά τη ζωή της προσευχής στον ιερό εκείνο τόπο. Έχει μάλιστα γράψει και ωραία Ποιήματα για τη ζωή στο Όρος των καστρομονάστηρων. Είναι βέβαιο πως η ομιλία του θα είναι άκρως εμπνευσμένη και ελκυστική γιατί θα είναι κυρίως βιωματική. Όλοι είναι ευπρόσδεκτοι.

Εορτή Οσίου Παϊσίου

 

Συναξάριον

Τῇ ΙΒʹ τοῦ αὐτοῦ μηνός, μνήμη τοῦ ὁσίου Πατρὸς ἡμῶν Παϊσίου τοῦ νέου τοῦ Ἁγιορείτου, τελειωθέντος ἐν εἰρήνῃ, ἐν ἔτει χιλιοστῷ ἐννεακοσιοστῷ ἐνενηκοστῷ τετάρτῳ (1994).
 

Στίχοι

Ζήσας Παΐσιος μόνος Θεῷ μόνῳ, Πολλοὺς τεθλιμμένους ἐκούφισεν πόνων.
Ἡνωμένος γὰρ τῷ Θεῷ διʼ ἀγάπης, Παραμυθεῖσθαι πάντας εἴληφεν χάριν.
Δωδεκάτῃ Παΐσιος ἀνέσπερον αὐγὴν εἶδε.

Θ έρως στο Όρος

Οι γνήσιοι φίλοι του Χριστού. Οι διαλεχτοί του Κυρίου. Οι διδαχτοί του Θεού. Είναι συνήθεις φράσεις, που της καρδιάς τα χείλη προφέρουν, σαν αντικρίσουν εκείνους που βιώνουν και σμίγουν  Σταυρό και Ελπίδα, πόνο και χαρά, υπομονή και προσδοκία… Άνθρωποι που μιλούν με την σιωπή τους την εύλαλη, που ανασαίνουν έλεος και δοξολόγημα, που ποθούν μόνο το Θεάρεστο και ό,τι τους ενώνει με τον Δημιουργό. 

Ακούγοντας ένα από τα αμέτρητα, δόξα τω Θεώ, καταγεγραμμένα ομιλήματα του Χρυσοστόμου των ημερών μας, π. Αθανασίου Μυτιληναίου, ένας ακόμα προσδιορισμός για αυτούς τους μακαρίους προστέθηκε και πόσο μίλησε μέσα μας! Ο από μέσα Χριστιανός, ο από μέσα Μοναχός, ο από μέσα ιερέας, ο από μέσα άνθρωπος! Όχι σχήματα ευσεβείας που παρασύρουν και παραπλανούν τους γύρω μας, να ξεκινήσουν εκείνοι τις φιλοφρονήσεις και τις θωπείες στο φιλέπαινο εγώ μας, όχι έργα και λόγια ανθρωπαρέσκειας, βροντώδη και φωνακλά  για τα δικαιώματα  τις κρίσεις και τις εντολές  του Θεού, όχι εξωτερικά αλλά από τα τρίσβαθα, όχι επιφανειακά αλλά πηγαία, όχι αστραφτερά επιχρίσματα αλλά φως  τηλαυγές. Χαραγμένη η θύμησή τους, παραμυθητική κάθε λέξη που η μνήμη αναδύει για το επίγειο πέρασμά τους.
 
Ταξίδι στον χρόνο που αγίασαν, θα κάνουμε σε τούτη τη σειρά εκπομπών μέσα στο φετινό καλοκαίρι. Να συναντήσουμε τους… από μέσα Αγιορείτες. Εκεί, στον τόπο που η μετάνοια καρποφόρησε τα πιο ευώδη και ευσκιόφυλλα άνθη του Αθωνικού Λειμώνα. Ποτισμένα από πηγές δακρύων, σκαλισμένα από το δικέλλι της νήψης και  των αρετών. Να πάμε εκεί που η ψυχή θα δροσιστεί ξανά και τούτο το καλοκαίρι! Σπίνοι και τριζόνια συνοδοιπόροι στη συντροφιά μας, να ξημερωθούμε με τα μοναχικά κελαηδήματα των φτερωτών απεσταλμένων, να νυχτωθούμε με τους ακούραστους γαληνούς κήρυκες ακόμα μιας θερινής Αγιορείτικης αγρύπνιας. Να ευχηθούμε για την αιώνια μνήμη τους, να τους παρακαλέσουμε να μεσιτεύσουν, σαν αντιληφθούμε το μέγεθος της παρρησίας τους…
 
Θ έρως στο Όρος! Γραμμένο... ανορθόγραφα, για να εκφράσει την πιο βαθιά άδολη και ολοκληρωτική αγάπη και αφιέρωση στο περιβόλι της Κυρίας Θεοτόκου. Οι περισσότεροι από αυτούς, τους από μέσα Αγιορείτες, δεν απομακρύνθηκαν ποτέ από την μετάνοιά τους. Εκεί που πρωτοήρθαν σαν αμούστακα καλογέρια, εκεί είπαν το στερνό τους ευλογείτε και εκεί ενώθηκαν με το ευωδιαστό Αθωνικό χώμα. Δεν ξεμάκρυναν ποτέ από τον τόπο τους, για να μην ξεμακρύνουν ποτέ και από τον τρόπο τους... τον Θεάρεστο και Αγγελομίμητο. Θ έρως στο Όρος! Έρως μανικός με τον Δεσπότη Χριστό και τους Αγίους Του. Πρώτη στη σύναξή τους η Παναγία! Η Μάνα τους! Η προστάτις τους, η πρόμαχος και πυλωρός της ψυχής τους. Καλοκαίρι εκεί που και η δική μας ψυχή γαληνεύει, εκεί που ξεδιψά και δροσίζεται... Μακριά από την ξεραΐλα και το άνυδρο του ματαίου, συναντώντας τους από μέσα Αγιορείτες...
 
Νώντας Σκοπετέας
Ιούλιος 2025

Exploring the Grecian journey

 

“Echoes from the Cave”

Presentation of the new Poetic collection of Richard Devereux

 

Yesterday we had the privilege to attend a very exceptional and inspiring kind of event, where Richard our good friend and cowalker in the paths of Poetry, had presented at the Commonwealth House in Bristol his new Poetic collection. It was an amazing evening, filled with Poetic verses, Greek and English music, dancing, delicious Greek food (prepared by Yvonne, Richard’s good wife), excellent Greek wine, as well as with warm feelings of friendship and respect.
 
I was kindly offered the chance to say a few words and here they are:
 

I feel quite privileged and honoured to have been asked by Richard to say a few words at the presentation of his new Poetic collection, entitled with the mysterious, profound and even mystical phrase: “Echoes from the Cave”, while the sub-title is: “a fifty-year love affair with Greece”!

 
In regards to the title, I can assure you all that I have myself heard and experienced -in a supernatural way- the “ECHOES from THE CAVE”, that have been, not simply produced but, radiated, by the mind and the soul of Richard Devereux, a man of great Poetic talent, of undoubted literary intellect and of high human integrity.

“A fifty-year love affair”, to me, is not just spending some holidays now and then in Greece, neither reading a book about Greece, her history, archaeology, mythology etc. It is rather building a bridge between two great nations, namely Britain and Hellas.
 

With the publication of this new Poetic collection, I personally feel that I am actually standing here and right now on this majestic, iconic and graceful bridge.

Allow me please to share a personal experience with you. Years ago, I was coming from London and going to Cardiff. In the car there was a retired captain of the Greek Merchant Navy, who had enormously missed the sea. We were passing over the Severn Bridge and suddenly he exclaimed with joy and anticipation: “please open the window, I want to feel the breeze of the ocean and smell the scent of the sea”.
 

I have a similar feeling right now! Richard’s Poetry, as a literary bridge, brings together and intertwines the echoes from the Aegean islands and the fragrance of the Celtic seas. 
 

When I firstly read the echoing Poems, I thought that there is a dialectic which is being built there and brings into the same stadium (like the one in Olympia, where Richard had recently run, across the same length as the Ancient Greeks) the old and the new, the earliest and the modern, the historic and the contemporary. In any case, one meets this dialectic wherever they go in the Hellenic places.
 

Richard likes conversing -in the realm of his Poetry- with original creators of Poetry, like the Philhellene Lord Byron and Constanine Cavafy. Greek words embellish his verses, while humour permeates the lines. His sensitive Poetic soul cannot stand the “killing of so many flowers” and his elegant work acts like a lasting defence of lyricism, in the following verses: “fields of sea stretched out”, “In an olive grove, I grade the shades of silence”, “debating the dialectic of love”, as well as everywhere!
 

I am absolutely convinced that my thoughts and words are very poor in presenting to you accurately the power of Richard’s Poetic work. It is only his actual Poems that are able enough and highly gifted to convey this feeling of true artistic creation.
 

Thus, I shall read to you now a Richardian Poem that I have translated into Greek and have included it in my latest Poetic collection. It is one of the best Poems that I have ever read. It’s title: “Winter on Athos”! I shall read it to you in the Greek translation. Those who do not understand Greek, just close your eyes and get the feel of it…
 

Χειμώνας στον Άθωνα
 
Καθώς ο Χειμώνας ανοίγει διάπλατα την αγκαλιά του
Να αγκαλιάσει και να διατηρήσει το Άγιο Όρος,
Η χιονοθύελλα εμποδίζει και επιβραδύνει
Την ανάληψη των Προσευχών του Ιησού στον Ουρανό.
 
Η χιονόπτωση είναι πυκνή. Τοίχοι χτισμένοι για να κρατηθούν
Οι πειρατές έξω, τώρα ζωσμένοι και μονωμένοι
Ενάντια στη λεηλασία του ανελέητου ψύχους
Που απειλεί να αρπάξει τους αδύναμους και ηλικιωμένους.
 
Ένας πεινασμένος λύκος κατεβαίνει επιφυλακτικά
Και κλείνει το μονοπάτι προς το κελί ενός ερημίτη.
Οι κραυγές των τσακαλιών σχίζουν την ησυχία της νύχτας
Οι πνιγμένες όχθες των απόκρημνων χαραδρών.
 
Σε μια από τις οποίες έπεσε ο Leigh Fermor,
Και δεν ήταν καν είκοσι ακόμα. Μίλησε με τον Θάνατο
Αλλά ένας φύλακας άγγελος τον έβγαλε έξω
Και τον παρέδωσε σε μια βρυχώμενη εστία.
 
Πάνω από τις κεραμιδένιες σκεπές, υψώθηκαν,
Τους περασμένους χειμώνες, ψηλοί καπνοί,
Απαλό γκρι ενάντια στο λευκό, από φωτιές
Όπου τα δάχτυλα άνοιγαν πλατιά για να ζεσταθούν.
 
Νεαροί μικρόσχημοι μοναχοί και δόκιμοι,
Όταν το χιόνι κείται παχύ, είναι και πάλι παιδιά -
Κάποιος ξεκινά έναν αγώνα χιονοπόλεμου
Και τα μαύρα ράσα σύντομα γεμίζουν με άσπρες κηλίδες.
 
Αυτό που χρειάζονται είναι ένας φίλος χιονάνθρωπος:
Ένας αρπάζει ένα φτυάρι, ένας άλλος ένα καρότο
Και ένας θρασύς τολμά να κρεμάσει
Το μαύρο επανωκαλύμμαυχο ενός μοναχού στο παγωμένο στέμμα.
 
Αλλά δεν έχουν την ευλογία του Ηγουμένου.
Αυτό σημαίνει μπελάδες. Εκείνος έχει δει τα παιχνίδια τους.
Κι αποφάσισε να στρέψει το βλέμμα του αλλού,
Σίγουρος πως κι ο Θεός χαμογελάει επίσης.
 

Allow me to finish by saying that, to the worthy readers of this collection, I do not simply recommend some nice or even lyrical verses, I propose them to enjoy the abundance of light which is being radiated from the sky of Richard’s soul!
 
Tasos Vyzantios

Μελωδικό συναξάρι

Με έμπνευση από βιβλίο του Σεβασμιωτάτου Μητροπολίτου Αργολίδος κ. Νεκταρίου (με τον τίτλο: «Ο Θεός είναι άπαιχτος»), ο φίλος Νώντας Σκοπετέας εποίησε το μελωδικό συναξάρι, της παρούσας ανάρτησης. 

Οι περιγραφόμενες ιστορίες, με τον μοναδικό τρόπο απαγγελίας του Νώντα, συγκινούν και διεγείρουν στους ακροατές μύχια συναισθήματα ευσέβειας, φέροντάς τους σε κατάσταση κατάνυξης («ἀκούσαντες δὲ κατενύγησαν τῇ καρδίᾳ»).

Sunrise at the Holy Mountain

 

Ανατολή στο Άγιο Όρος

 

Dawn has made its daily promise, but the sun has yet to appear. The wild beach at Sykia faces the Holy Mountain: there are no sunbeds, no umbrellas, not even a kantina. An old hippy, in his sleeping bag, begins to stir and the dog, asleep beside him on the sand, opens an eye. It is as if they know something is coming.
 
Mount Athos rises steeply out of the sea, its magnificent peak pointing surely to heaven. Above it, as we wait, a glow that is becoming ever-richer: pink > peach > orange.
 
I am expecting the sun, any moment now, and am guessing over which part of the silhouette it will break. But no. It bursts the horizon over the sea, beside the great mountain. In just a few moments: spot > arc > full circle - balancing on the rim of the water, then taking to the sky.
 
It is as if we have witnessed a birth. The birth of a day.  
 
Text: Richard Devereux.
Photograph: Yvonne Devereux.
Sithonia, August 2023.

Ο Άθωνας στο Bristol (Αφίσα)

 
Μια πολύ ενδιαφέρουσα Πνευματική Σύναξη θα πραγματοποιηθεί την ερχόμενη Κυριακή 16^η Ιουλίου τ.έ. στον Ι.Ν. Απ. Πέτρου και Παύλου στο Bristol.
 

Ο Φιλέλληνας και Φιλορθόδοξος, Ποιητής και Νομικός, κ. Ριχάρδος Devereux, ο οποίος επισκέπτεται τακτικά το Άγιον Όρος, ως μέλος της Αδελφότητας «Φίλοι του Αγίου Όρους», θα ομιλήσει για μια ενδιαφέρουσα διακονία που επιτελεί εκεί. Περισσότερες λεπτομέρειες στην αφίσα της εκδήλωσης.