A conversation with Hierodeacon Seraphim
(Molibog)
of the Monastery of St. Anthony the Great in
Arizona
Last year a frequent contributor to our site,
Olga Rozhneva, was blessed by the providence of God to visit the well-known
Monastery of St. Anthony the Great in the Arizona desert, founded by Elder
Ephraim (Moraitis), a disciple of the venerable Elder Joseph the Hesychast. The
trip was amazing, as it occurred not without the miraculous help of Elder
Ephraim.
Amongst the brethren of the monastery is the
Russian Hierodeacon Seraphim, who spoke with us about his path to God, how he
found himself in a monastery in the middle of the American desert, and the
instructions of Elder Ephraim.
—Fr. Seraphim, the providence of God is at
work in the life of every man, but sometimes it is hidden and sometimes it
clearly reveals itself in some kind of sign, remarkable encounters, or words.
Did you have such signs—a clear manifestation of God’s providence for you in
your life?
—You
know, the Lord leads every man to Himself when the most opportune moment for
him comes. I was born in Moscow. In childhood, like my peers, I was an
Octobrist, Pioneer, and Young Communist. I graduated from the Moscow
Aviation-Technological Institute with a diploma in mechanical engineering for
aircraft engines. I started to get involved in various religious currents, but
didn’t arrive at Orthodoxy.
In 1995 a
professor of physics from Chicago, David Chesek, came to Moscow. He was a very
good Catholic and wonderful family man with eight kids. He died two years ago.
We got acquainted, having similar interests in physics, and he invited me to
America to study and work. He helped me with my visa.
I was
twenty-three and had the opportunity to travel to another country, live and
study there, and receive some life experience. The Lord allowed me to do all of
it.
Several
American universities cooperate with various companies where the companies pay
the universities for research. The university in Alabama, where I began to
study, collaborated with automotive companies. They looked for students who
would do research along with their studies, so they paid for my education and
gave me a salary for work in the metal casting department. This was the most
ideal option for me. I rented a small house from a family, studied for seven years
and received my masters and doctorate. I was offered work at General Motors.
But the
Lord already had other plans for me. In America I studied and worked, worked
and studied, and was deprived of those human consolations I had in my homeland:
interaction with my parents and relatives and friends. People who move to other
countries lose these comforts they had at home.
Any
Orthodox country is a country of collective communication. You know, you can
just drop by a friend’s without calling, and you’ll drink some tea in the
kitchen and have a heart-to-heart… But western countries are societies of
individualists: “Hello,” “Goodbye.” There’s parties, but the conversation is
very superficial. And no matter how well you speak English, you always feel
that you’re from another culture.
Being
without these human consolations, you begin to look for them in God. My mom,
learning of my interest in faith, advised me to get baptized.
When the
Lord wants to bring someone to Himself, He creates such circumstances, arranges
meetings through which the man can begin to recognize Him. I made some Russian
friends, and they turned out to be Baptists. I was always very curious, and
here I wanted to immediately know: where is truth? After all, there can’t be
several truths. I started to attend the catechumen courses at the Orthodox
church and learned about Church history and doctrine. I compared and analyzed,
and realized that the truth is in Orthodoxy. I received Holy Baptism.
My life
changed dramatically. Prestigious work at General Motors didn’t entice me
anymore. I didn’t want to stay with the university department—I had developed
an interest in monasticism.
—And why did you choose the Monastery of St.
Anthony the Great?
—Once my
spiritual father, Archpriest Alexander Fekanin, the rector of the church of St.
Symeon the New Theologian in Birmingham, advised me to go to St. Anthony’s
Monastery. My first time there I was twenty-six. I met the founder of the
monastery, Elder Ephraim—a spiritual child of Venerable Elder Joseph the
Hesychast. I said to him in broken Greek: “Father, I want to become a monk,”
and he blessed me.
I came
here a few more times; I liked it, but I was confused: I wasn’t sure that I was
supposed to stay in this monastery. I even wanted to return to Russia and enter
seminary.
I had
just graduated from my university in Alabama, and after my defense and all my
work I felt tired, and my spiritual father blessed me to go on vacation to the
west coast. California is a huge, beautiful state: mountains, the Grand Canyon,
nature, monasteries… I went to St. Anthony’s and told the fathers that soon,
after my vacation, I was going to Russia, and rented a car and drove to
California.
I went to
the convent of the Lifegiving Spring Icon of the Most Holy Theotokos, which
Elder Ephraim had also founded, in 1993. There I met one mother, Schemanun
Fevronia, who bore obedience in the guest house. We started talking, and I told
her: “You know, I’m soon returning to Russia,” to which she replied: “You
forget to add a phrase.” “What phrase, mother?” “If it’s God’s will”…
I spent
three days there, and somehow Mother Fevronia, and she was a spiritually
experienced person, began to talk with me about the monastic life. At the end
of the conversation I felt like she wanted to tell me something, but she wasn’t
saying it. It’s a sign of a spiritual person, to not enforce his point of view,
but to wait until you ask. And if you ask, then he answers. That is, he speaks
to those who are ready to listen.
I asked
her: “Mother Fevronia, it seems to me you want to say something to me…” and she
responded that she had prayed for me all night. She told me: “God’s will for
you is to go to Fr. Ephraim and be a monk in his monastery.” I was amazed. Then
she advised me to go to San Francisco to the “Joy of All Who Sorrow” cathedral,
to St. John of Shanghai. His relics are in a wooden shrine under glass, and underneath
there’s an opening where anyone who wants to can drop a note to the saint.
I went to
San Francisco and wrote a letter to St. John of Shanghai, requesting that he
pray for me. Then I went to St. Anthony’s and immediately felt sure that it was
“my” monastery. That’s how I wound up here.
You see,
I prayed for several years, from the time I felt the pull of monastic life,
that the Lord would teach me: to go to a monastery or not, and if so, which
one. I prayed that the Lord would inform me about it in such a way that no
doubts would remain about the correctness of my choice, and I received my
answer at the most opportune moment—when I had graduated from college, when I
was free to choose my path—that is, precisely when I needed it. There are many
monastic testimonies that when they had chosen the monastic path in life, they
couldn’t immediately leave for the monastery—some obstacles appeared for them.
The Lord revealed it to me when it was most necessary, to secure my path.
It’s
worth noting that when I would come to the monastery, being unprepared, I tried
to meet with Elder Ephraim every time, but he didn’t want to receive me at all.
And when I was finally ready to choose my path, the elder immediately received
me. And moreover, he summoned me himself and instructed me.
—Could you tell us about the elder’s
instructions?
—I told
him I had been baptized as an adult, and he anxiously asked if I had been
baptized by full immersion. It was obvious that it’s important to him. When I
answered affirmatively he began to smile and joked about me being tall: “And
where did they find some a large font?”
He gave
me a few pieces of advice for beginning the monastic life. Perhaps they’ll be
useful for your readers, because they can be applied to monks or to laypeople.
The elder stressed the importance of preserving your conscience everywhere: at
work, during our obediences. He advised me to keep that initial zeal with the
help of obedience to a spiritual father and unceasing prayer. He said that
ascetics have three enemies: the world, the evil one, and our own selves—our
passionate nature.
He
emphasized that, taking care for our salvation, we mustn’t waste time doing
nothing. He gave the example of one nun (I suspect he was talking about his
mother, Nun Theophano). When this nun would hear the chiming on the hour, she
would say to herself: “Another hour has passed, and I’m another hour closer to
death.” Thus she kept the memory of death, helping her to never forget the
salvation of her soul.
In
September 2002 I arrived at the monastery and became a worker, working in the
kitchen. After four months the elder blessed me with the novice’s cassock and
gave me an obedience in the bookstore: book orders, receive pilgrims. I speak
in English and Greek, so I can also answer phone calls and take care of the
mail. In 2012 I received the monastic tonsure and in January 2015 I was
ordained a hierodeacon. Perhaps, that’s it… I can tell a few more stories about
the providence of God.
—Please do.
—The
first is about Schemanun Evpraxia. Our elder, Fr. Ephraim, has tonsured about
fifteen people into the schema just before death. Most of them were in the
final stages of cancer. Mother Evpraxia joined a Greek monastery when she was
eighteen. She took the monastic tonsure. The elder summoned her to America and
placed her as the abbess of the Monastery of the Annunciation of the Most Holy
Theotokos in Florida. Then he moved her to another monastery, in Canada.
She was
diagnosed with breast cancer. The elder told her: “Come here. You will die in
our monastery.” She arrived a few days before death. The elder tonsured her
into the schema with the same name. Two days later she departed to the Lord.
The
deceased was brought into the church. We took a picture for remembering. The
Psalter was read over her body, according to tradition. When they took more
pictures after forty minutes, they were amazed. A smile had appeared on her
lips. The elder said: “She had great love for people, and a serious illness.
She is very high in Paradise.”
The
second is about Schemanun Thekla. Mother Thekla is an American from Texas, from
a big family—kids, grandkids. She lived the normal life of a family woman. But
before death she was deemed worthy of the schema.
Her house
was by the Monastery of the Holy Archangels near San Antonia, TX. She often
went to the monastery, helped with obediences, and offered her house to
pilgrims when the monastery was full. She was very zealous. Elder Ephraim went
to the monastery for its feast day, and, together with other pilgrims, went to
see her.
He looked
at her and suddenly asked: “Haven’t you thought about monasticism?” He invited
her to one of the women’s communities. The elder blessed her with the tonsure
into the schema three months before her death with the name Thekla.
The
Nativity of Christ was drawing near, and Mother Thekla started to say: “I want
to meet Nativity with Christ.” And so it happened. When the sisters changed her
clothing after death, they smelled a sweet fragrance throughout the whole room.
These are my stories…
—Allow me to thank you, Fr. Seraphim, for the
interesting and soul-profiting conversation. What would you wish for the
readers of Pravoslavie.ru?
—In
Russia, especially amongst the laity, we lost the tradition of the Jesus
Prayer. Even some priests look askance at laypeople who carry a prayer rope in
their hands. They consider the Jesus Prayer with a prayer rope a monastic
tradition, and are afraid of prelest.
Our
spiritual father, Elder Ephraim, blesses laity to engage in the Jesus Prayer,
to the extent, of course, that their life in the world, work and family allow
them. The elder explains that there’s no danger for those praying at the
beginning stages of the Jesus Prayer, when a person says it orally, when he has
a small prayer rule he does at home or on the road.
Usually
our spiritual fathers bless laity new in the faith with a daily rule to do at
home in the morning or in the evening. It’s about 50—150 Jesus Prayers with the
Sign of the Cross at each knot, and 50—150 prayers to the Mother of God, “Most
Holy Theotokos, save us,” also with the Sign of the Cross on each knot, and
20—50 prostrations with the Jesus Prayer and Sign of the Cross at every prostration.
You should fulfill this rule given by the spiritual father, and not change it
arbitrarily.
The rest
of the day you walk around the streets, ride on the bus, in the subway, and
pray to yourself, with a small prayer rope in your hand, or without one. When
there’s no one else around, it’s useful to say the prayer out loud, quietly. It
helps the mind to concentrate on the words of the prayer and not get lost in
dreams. The main condition is a feeling of repentance. Don’t strive for
spiritual achievements, but ask for mercy and forgiveness of sins.
Elder
Ephraim also strongly recommends (and for us it’s part of the monastic rule) to
read the Akathist to the Mother of God every day, that she might shield us from
all evil, and also when we have to go somewhere.
We had a
novice here in the monastery, a Greek (he’s a monk now). During obediences and
at other times he often said the Akathist to the Mother of God aloud, which he
knew by heart. One night he was walking around the monastery, praying his
favorite Akathist aloud. He went a little beyond the bounds of the monastery,
and not noticing it in the dark, stepped on a rattle snake. Usually if a snake
touches you, it bites you. But a miracle occurred here: the Mother of God covered
the novice and the snake didn’t bite him, but simply slithered away. That’s the
benefit of reading the Akathist to the Most Holy Theotokos.
God
bless!
Olga Rozhneva spoke with Hierodeacon Seraphim
(Molibog)
Source: http://orthochristian.com/99282.html
CONVERSATION