Category Archives: monasteries

Monasteries are not places of refuge.

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“The world thinks that when someone becomes a monk in a monastery, he leaves society and becomes wild. They say this because they are unaware that monks are the most sociable of human beings. You should know that no one can become a monk if he is not sociable, that is, if he cannot communicate and deal openly and directly with all the difficulties encountered in a life shared with others. If a man has had difficulties in marrying or establishing a family, chances are he won’t be a good monk. He must feel secure in his life. Monasteries are not places of refuge. Consequently, a monk is someone who may have formerly attained success in such relationships, and loved them, too, and thus he doesn’t reject them, he doesn’t condemn them, he doesn’t despise them, but rather prefers something superior for himself.”

-Elder Aimilianos of Simonopetra, in The Church at Prayer: The Mystical Liturgy of the Heart 

The Holy Spirit at the peak of Mount Sinai.

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When the Getty Museum in Los Angeles hosted the exhibition “Holy Image, Hallowed Ground: Icons From Sinai” in 2006-07, the courier and caretaker of the artifacts on display was Father Justin Sinaites.

He is the librarian at Saint Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai, where the extremely dry climate has kept ancient manuscripts from deteriorating the way they might in many places in the world. This monk librarian came from Texas to the Egyptian monastery many years ago; at least once before I mentioned him on my blog after my late husband and I heard him speak in Berkeley, California.

As I write, the sun has set on this Sunday of Pentecost, a celebration full of joy and light. So we are now, according to Church Time, in the day after, on which the Orthodox Church celebrates Holy Spirit Day; Father Justin has written a blog post about how they keep the feast at St. Catherine’s: “Liturgy at the Peak of Mount Sinai”:

“Every year, we celebrate the Divine Liturgy at the peak of Mount Sinai on the day after Pentecost, the Monday of the Holy Spirit. This year, we were joined by pilgrims from Greece and Russia. We made the ascent in the night, and began the Liturgy at 4:00 AM.”

The blog post consists mostly of Fr. Justin’s own photographs, which I always find very appealing. I learned more about the monk himself in this interview on the Travel Potpourri website: “Saint Catherine’s Monastery Interview with the Librarian Father Justin.”

One paragraph:

“I didn’t go from El Paso, Texas, to Sinai, in one big step. There were lots of little steps. But even in El Paso, I read the account of Moses and the Exodus in the Bible. I saw Cecil B. DeMille’s “The Ten Commandments,” which contains scenes filmed at the traditional Sinai, with Charlton Heston climbing up the mountain, and walking along a ridge with the Sinai range in the background. Also, El Paso is a desert. I used to wander in the desert for hours and came to love the stark beauty of the desert landscape. All of this was in the background when I began to read about the history and the theology of the Orthodox Church.”

If you are interested in the manuscript collection itself, you may want to look at: This Reuters article, which explains that the abbot of the monstery feels an urgency about completing the project of digitizing all 4500 manuscripts in the library, many of which are in the Syriac and Arabic languages, and very rare.

But today, all I want to do is visit Fr. Justin’s blog, and through his photographs get another glimpse of the daily life and worship at Saint Catherine’s, Sinai.

Sumela Monastery

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Only recently did I learn of the existence of Sumela Monastery, a place which briefly in this century became particularly associated with the Feast of the Dormition (falling asleep in death) of Christ’s Mother, which we commemorate this month. This recent connection started in 2010:

“Orthodox Christians from around the world attended a rare Liturgy at an ancient monastery in Turkey… at the Sumela monastery in Trabzon province, north-eastern Turkey. At least 1,500 pilgrims, including people from Greece and Russia, traveled to the Byzantine-era monastery. The service was the first Greek Orthodox Liturgy to be held at the shrine since 1923, after the Turkish government allowed pilgrims to worship there once a year in a gesture toward religious minorities, in line with Turkey’s aspiration to join the EU.

“Those attending were elated, with one worshipper saying it was a great moment as they could now pray on the land where their great-grandfathers had come from. In 1923, the Turkish authorities had banned religious services at the monastery, built on the side of a mountain, and turned it into a museum, after it was abandoned when a population swap between Turkey and Greece saw most local Orthodox move to Greece.”

The Patriarch of Constantinople was allowed to celebrate Divine Liturgy every year on the Feast of the Dormition from 2010 until 2015, but starting in 2016 reconstruction work has prevented this.

I watched several videos about the monastery and the one I really liked was this one: “What is the Sumela Monastery?” because the personable guide had taken time to learn something about the history of the place, and he respectfully refrained from blathering ignorantly, unlike some other visitors who put up videos on YouTube.

The monastery was founded by two monks in the fourth century, and through the following centuries repeatedly fell into ruin and was restored; in the 13th century it had grown into its present form.

Occasionally when I happen upon pictures or stories of ancient sites like this, built into steep cliffs, I become entranced with the otherworldliness of them and the drama of their settings. I’m glad I can visit them by means of these pictures and videos.

A blessed Feast of the Dormition to you all!

We shake the monastery olives.

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The nuns at a nearby monastery needed some help with their yard work. We didn’t know anything more specific, or that there would be some sadness involved, when Mr. Glad and I signed up to be on the crew for a Saturday work session. I had gardened here one spring day a couple of years ago and was looking forward to another chance to visit, this time doing fallish tasks.

What a bright and shining day it was, too, as we drove over the hill. Recent rains had washed all the earth and air, and high winds pretty much shook them out to dry. The humidity was only 10%.

When the head gardener Sister Xenia led our team of five to the clump of olive trees we saw that they were loaded with black fruit.

Then came the bad news: All of this harvest could not be used in any way, because it was infested with Mediterranean fruit flies. The trees needed to be stripped of olives, and the fruit that had fallen on the ground must be raked and swept up, and all of it taken to the dump.

In a month or two an arborist will prune the trees and some kind of spray will be used to inhibit the growth the the flies next spring. Whether there is hope of them being controlled in one year’s time I don’t know.

The olives were no good, not even the fat and shiny ones that were hanging on these lovely silvery trees with the light shimmering through.

So the men shook the trees and brought showers of fruit down on our heads. Mr. Glad climbed on the roof of a little house to reach higher branches of one tree, and then he climbed into the tree itself.

You can see olives on the ground in the shade.

Rosebushes that had grown leggy in the shade were snagging the guys when they were stretching up to shake and pick, so I ended up spending the first hour pruning the canes out of the way.

Bright orange fruit hung from the nearly bare branches of a Fuyu persimmon tree, the variety that is crunchy when ripe, and never puckery. At least this tree was healthy, and that was some consolation for the olive disaster.

We picked and pruned that tree, and Sister Xenia encouraged us to take some persimmons home, so I tucked a few into my gardening tote and am planning to use them like apples in baking.

Before we knew it, our work party was coming to an end, and we had been invited to eat the midday meal with the sisters.

Dining room all ready

But first there were prayers of the Sixth Hour, in the monastery chapel, and a few minutes of leisure for walking around the grounds.

I had been anticipating seeing the elegant koi again, and they did not disappoint. We found them gliding soundlessly in their long deep pond, swimming close for a few moments when I leaned over with my camera, until they sensed they weren’t getting any food from us. A father and son were visiting them too, and happily chatting in Russian.

The monastery has a nice set of bells under a shake roof, with benches to sit on when the bells aren’t being rung. They were used to announce the hour of prayer, but for the call to dinner Sister Marguerite walked all around the property shaking a little hand bell to ring a daintier and less commanding message.

The small amount of work we did seemed a puny offering considering all that we received by spending a few hours at the monastery. We were well fed with the most delicious fasting meal I’ve ever had, and we went home with armfuls of persimmons, having soaked up quite a lot of love and peace.

Of course I want to go back soon.