The life of the beloved Eldress Theosemni is a Synaxarion
account of perfection in self-emptying and martyric asceticism in
silence and humility. Her personage and her venerable example cannot be
appreciated through the description and listing of her virtues, for it
is impossible to explain, through words, the balance and grace of a
person who spoke through her silence.
By the Nun Theoxeni, Abbess of the Holy Monastery of Chrysopigi, Hania, Crete
The Eldress Theosemni, Anastasia-Aristea
Dimtsa in the world, was born in Larissa in the year 1938, the third
child of pious parents. When she was just four years old, she lost her
father and the care of the family fell to its newly widowed mother, who
was from Eastern Romylia and was wholly dedicated to God.
From the time she was a child, she
received profound love from Christ and the Church, and she would hasten
to attend the services and all-night vigils with a zeal that was unusual
for her age. She also participated with great zeal in the youth
activities at church and, from a very early age, expressed her desire to
serve as a missionary.
She studied at the Red Cross’s School
for Nursing, from which she graduated with highest honors. She chose
this path out of zeal to serve humans in pain.
In 1966 she became a nun at Meteora. It
is widely agreed that her monastic path was a model of obedience and
asceticism. Unforeseen difficulties arose at that time, at the beginning
of her monastic path, with which she dealt prudently, quietly, and
humbly.
In 1976, Eldress Theosemni went to Hania
(Crete) with two other nuns and, with the blessing of his eminence
Metropolitan Irenaeus of Kydonia and Apokoronos, she took on the
reconstruction, from its foundation, of the ruined Chrysopigi Monastery.
Over the course of twenty-four years she worked in silence, with
perfect self-renunciation. Her spiritual presence and her ascetic
example encouraged many souls to dedicate their lives to the Bridegroom
Christ, and she led them and established them in the Lord.
The abbess was an ascetic, a lover of
struggle, and prudent. She restored the Holy Monastery of Chrysopigi
from ruins, along with its miraculous icon of the Life-Giving Spring,
and gave the monastery a spiritual foundation. She also restored the
neighboring monastic dependency, the Monastery of St. Kyriaki. In her
final years, she sought a more deserted place for the sisterhood. She
established the Monastery of the Transfiguration on a rock, under the
fatherly care of the venerable Elder Porphyrios.
At the age of forty-eight she became
seriously ill with cancer and was miraculously cured by Elder
Porphyrios, who had an especial love and respect for her. Ten years
later, her sickness returned to her, during the four final years of her
life. She accepted her sickness with great courage and perseverance,
immense patience, gentleness, and deep peace, unceasingly fulfilling her
duties until her final breath.
Her end was a blessed one, as her life had been. She fell asleep in the Lord on the 31st of May 2000, at the age of sixty-two.
Quiet and Hidden
Eldress Theosemni was a model nun, according to the teachings
of the Fathers. In everything she did, she combined gifts that are
seldom given, with great capability, on both the theoretical and the
practical level. She was hard working and energetic, but simultaneously
ascetic and hesychastic. By nature quiet and reserved in her relations
with people, she was able to hide her great gifts and virtues even from
the people around her, and to ascribe successes to others. Although she
was very mature, organized, methodical, clever, and observant, she
always managed to ascribe the result of any work to everyone involved,
as though it was wholly a team effort. In this way, she taught the
sisters not to seek after personal glory.
“That which moves me more than anything
else,” she would say, “is the example of the Panagia. Her humility,
obedience, and silence. An angel went and told her that she would give
birth to Christ, God, and all she said was, ‘Behold the handmaiden of
the Lord.’ She didn’t say anything else. Only obedience. And she was
hidden. My prayer is that we will acquire these virtues….”
The Eldress never believed in her many
spiritual gifts. She was marked by a profound humility, not just simple
“humble words,” or pietistic comeliness.
She managed the monastery’s affairs
without any discord. She had the discernment to know which sister should
undertake any given job, or a particular responsibility, and made use
of the talents of all. In whichever place or job in the monastery she
provided oversight, she was observant enough to know what needed to be
fixed or improved, and this always took place with propriety and with a
quiet explanation.
The Eldress herself took care of various
jobs in the monastery, and did not limit herself to just the
fulfillment of the duties of the abbess. She made good use of her time
with remarkable creativity.
The
Holy Monastery of Chrysopigi in Hania, which the Eldress Theosemni
renovated and where she quietly worked for twenty-four years
When she realized that some aspect of
the monastery’s work was running behind or was unsuccessful, she got
involved herself, without getting upset or uptight, and with her
remarkable simplicity saying, “let’s have a look, sisters, with
patience, at what other way we can do this….” And, of course, she always
found a solution.
The Eldress had immeasurable respect for
all of the sisters, and no one ever heard her speak in an offensive
manner. Unless she was asked, she did not counsel anyone, and only
infrequently would she give her nuns unsolicited counsel. And when she
did, she would censure herself, saying that she was not worthy to teach.
Humble, Merciful, and Ascetic
Let us have a humble spirit. May we be careful to never see the
sins of others, only our own sins. We, however, want to fix other
people, but don’t want to fix ourselves. Eh…does this happen, though?
No, we don’t fix ourselves! Our brother is not to blame for whatever
happens, our spiritual condition is to blame. It’s this condition of
ours that upsets us, which makes us judgmental, which causes us to get
angry. We mustn’t blame others for these things. The causes are within
us. If we ever do or think something good, let us not regard it as our
own achievement, but the achievement of God. And let us say, “You, my
God, You gave it to me. It’s yours and You allowed it and gave me the
strength to do it.” In this way, we chase thoughts of vainglory far from
us.
She had the spiritual gift to administer
and direct the sisterhood without getting upset, without raising her
voice, without having to check up on, or to threaten by giving her nuns a
rule of penance. She generally did not give rules of penance. If she
did it on occasion, she was very sad about it, which is why she would be
the first to fulfill the rule of penance that she had given to the
sister. As abbess, she never accepted special attention or honor.
The Eldress was exceedingly merciful.
She loved and honored, without distinction, people in need and in
difficult situations. No one left the monastery with empty hands. She
did not even overlook those who, for whatever reason, were not able to
make it all the way to the monastery. She experienced such great joy
when she gave, that she felt like she should be the one giving thanks.
“We mustn’t ask anything from people,” she would say, “but we should
give them everything.”
The Eldress loved to hide within the
sisterhood. She would generally not appear to visitors, especially when
large groups would visit the monastery. She always sought to remain far
from crowds. While she shared in the people’s pain, and would pray a
great deal for their problems, she systematically avoided social contact
with them. “This,” she would say, “is the work of the guest master,”
and in this way she taught the nuns not to seek social relations and
conversations with pilgrims, whether acquaintances or relatives. She
would say, characteristically, that “the spiritual life of the monastic
progresses through isolation and silence.”
She carefully examined every part of the
monastic life and did not ignore anything as though it were unimportant
or too detailed. She never allowed herself to make changes, remaining
always faithful to the spirit of the Fathers. It is characteristic that
she never gave a blessing for a loosening of the fasting regulations
unless such a loosening was indicated in the Orologion. Even when she
was sick, she kept the fasting rules precisely. On one occasion, she
found herself outside of the monastery at the very beginning of Great
Lent, for radiation therapy, and she still kept the first three days of
Lent with precision [a complete, strict fast], and then had the first
round of radiation therapy on Wednesday afternoon of the first week of
Lent, after the Presanctified Liturgy.
During her whole period of sickness,
despite the insistent requests of the sisters, she never asked for any
specific kind of food, but accepted with thanks whatever food she was
offered.
“As monastics, we must practice
asceticism. We shouldn’t eat until we’re full. We should arise from the
dinner table and be hungry; in any case, this is what we promised. Even
Christ practiced asceticism. He ate little, he had only one tunic. And
He taught his disciples not to have anything. Let us do the same.
Asceticism: in food, in sleep, in standing for long periods. Let’s try
to do these things and we’ll see what a blessing we have.”
The blessed Eldress Theosemni never
protested for anything, to anyone. She regarded martyrdom and being
crushed as part and parcel of the monastic life, with the certainty that
God allows trials for our salvation.
The Transfiguration, the new monastery that was built under the fatherly oversight of Venerable Porphyrios
Full of Love and Untiring Prayer
The Eldress would always cover over the failings of others, she
never blamed anyone and never judged, criticized, or complained about
someone who had done her wrong or had slandered her. She forgave and
loved all people from her heart, effortlessly, which is why everyone
felt at ease with her, despite her serious and careful demeanor. For her
part, she did not feel as though she was doing anything more than
fulfilling the obligations of a nun.
Let us have love. When we reproach
someone, we don’t love them. They will only understand through love, not
through being gloomy, angry, and judgmental. We’re mistaken if we think
that other people have wronged us. The problem is within us. Only let
sweet words come from our lips. And if we don’t have anything to say, a
smile suffices. Let’s gift others with our smile, with our love. When we
don’t love our brethren, we don’t love Christ. It’s no good for us to
say we love Christ if we don’t love our brethren.
Humility is to make excuses for our brethren in all things and for all things. The humble person cuts off her own will.
Once, near the end of her earthly life,
reference was made to instances where she made remarkable sacrifices and
was particularly humble, and she responded laconically, “Sisters, let’s
not transform our daily duties into some kind of achievement, if we
have at some time, by the grace of God, done something….”
The Eldress struggled for the salvation
of the whole world. She prayed unceasingly for the known and unknown,
small and large, Christian and non-Christian, for all people.
Most of our prayer should be for the
world. We should pray, “Lord, Jesus Christ, have mercy on me,” but this
“me” should refer to the whole world. If we pray for others, God gives
us more grace than He would have if we were just praying for ourselves.
And whatever good things we ask on behalf of others, God also gives to
us. Let’s say the prayer continuously. This softens the soul. It makes
it soft, so that it loves all people. All people seem good to it and
nothing upsets it.
She was once walking down a street in
London, after a visit with a professor of oncology, who had just told
her that the mass in her lung had returned and that she would have to
undergo more therapy. She was thoughtful and, in answer to the question
posed by the sister who was with her, as to whether she was upset by the
problem of her health, she answered, “No, I have left this concern
completely to God. What I was thinking about just now, and it’s for this
that I’m concerned, are those young children we met on the corner who
were begging. I noticed that they were pale and their hands… oh, my… how
their hands were! I feel terrible. I’m afraid that they’re taking
drugs. And that girl, how beautifully she played guitar and sang! She
also could have sung….”
Patient in Her Sickness
Her serious long-term sickness was a source of pain for
everyone else, but not for her. While she suffered, no one noticed any
sadness or disappointment on her face or in her words because of the
bodily trials and pains she suffered and endured. She continued her life
with psychical strength, remarkable patience and meekness, courage and
boldness, endless faith and obedience to the will of God. She
continuously transmitted to everyone the joy and hope of communion with
Christ, and the strength of the foretaste of eternal gifts, which her
blessed soul experienced already in this life.
“Let us hymn and glorify God in trials,”
she would say, “Let’s not be beggars and only ask things from God,
‘Give me, why won’t you give it to me?’ May our lips be used to glorify
God. Let’s not be sullen and self-absorbed. Let’s say a ‘Glory to Thee,
oh God!’ We must not forget.”
And referring to her own sickness:
My sisters, don’t be saddened that I’m sick. Think that whatever God gives is for our good. Whatever He allows is for our salvation. Whatever this is…and let us thank Him. Do you know what joy and what peace comes from thanking Him for all things, and from glorifying Him? Submit everything to God. This is the work of a nun: prayer for everything, for everyone. Haven’t you heard what Fr. Porphyrios said, “With joy, leave all things to God.” Let us have our minds constantly on Christ. This is the only way we will be patient in our sorrow and in whatever trials come to us.
The peace that exuded from Eldress
Theosemni’s face gave comfort to the insecurities of everyone and her
peaceable speech was therapeutic for the souls of those who listened to
her. Her whole life was a harmony of spiritual vision, teachings, and
action. The Eldress incarnated the humility of the holy Fathers, which
is why people near her experienced peace and an otherworldly joy, the
same kind that we sense when we are near Saints.
Her Repose
While still in this life, the blessed Eldress had already truly
lived the foretaste of heavenly blessedness in silence and humility,
and through her repose reconciled people with death. The people that
came to Chrysopigi from Crete, from Greece, and from overseas, to pay
their last respects and to venerate her relics, all witnessed to the
same experience: they described the sweetness and absence of fear that
they felt before her relics.
The two days that preceded her burial
were a touching experience, full of blessings for everyone, not only for
those that knew and loved her, but also for the whole Church. Parents
who had lost young children in tragic accidents described with tears
how, for the first time, they felt comforted. Others touched their
infants to her, as they would to the relics of the Saints. Children both
young and old approached her coffin and touched her again and again
without fear, for they saw her smiling, as she had unceasingly smiled
even when in pain.
The funeral of the blessed Eldress was
uncommon. It was a triumphant funeral service, a revelation for
everyone, a tangible revelation of the mystery of sanctity. There was no
despair and sadness, but victory over death, the joy of the
Resurrection. A young person said, “It’s like Holy Friday when we bury
Christ with the certainty of tomorrow’s resurrection.” Everyone felt
that the reposed Eldress Theosemni had passed to heavenly blessedness
from a life in which she had had a foretaste of, and had grown
accustomed to, the joyful feeling of immortality. She had experienced
this to such an extent that she was able to communicate psychical
comfort and the overcoming of sorrows to everyone, along with the
reality of the approach of eternity.
The blessed Eldress Theosemni departed
in light from the present life, during which she had lived within the
perspective of the future age. Her grave had become a source of
consolation, hope, and an education in eternal blessedness, not only for
the nuns of her monastery, but also for all of the pilgrims, known and
unknown, who thronged from near and far. And a story, well-known to the
Church, was repeated: of how a person who lived in obscurity and silence
became a preacher, an inspirer, and an initiate, not of human words and
actions, but of the mystery of eternity.
Source-Pemptousia.com
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