SOMEONE MAY ASK.. TRULY???.. SO HOW IS THE.. A MAN OF GOD.. HOW MAY HE LOOK.. AND WHAT IS HIS LITURGY???.. SO.. THERE.. YOU GO!!!
extracted from ''ΕΛΛΗΝΟΡΩΜΑΪΚΑ''
The Venerable Elder Petro “Geropetrakis” the Athonite
(as small in stature as he was GREAT in holiness)
Direct testimony borrowed from the beloved Saint Paisios, who venerated the humble Elder Petro with special reverence
Tuesday, 11 June 2024
Saint Paisios said of him: “On the very day of his feast, after the Divine Liturgy, the fathers wished him many years. He closed his eyes, and they thought he had simply fallen asleep… but in truth he flew straight to the heavens.”
Monk Peter of the Holy Rock (Agio-Petritis) (1891 – 12 June 1958)
Throughout his entire monastic life he lived on the outskirts of the Great Lavra. He came from the island of Lemnos, where he was born in 1891. He was tonsured a monk at the cell of St Nilus, outside Kafsokalyvia. Almost illiterate, simple, lively, and full of zeal. At one time he was exiled to the leper colony of Spinalonga. Later he settled in a remote, tiny, poor hut in the Skete of Little St Anne.
He was so humble that he always walked with his head bowed low and made a prostration to everyone, like a shy little child. Short, small-framed, and thin, everyone loved him and affectionately called him “Petrakis” (“little Peter”). That is how he remained all his life.
He avoided much company; he “got lost” among people. Yet whenever he did speak (which was rare), he always said beautiful, graceful words that brought rest to the soul. He shut himself in his little cell and spoke continually with God. He was content with the very little he had, and whatever small gifts of food people brought him, he wanted them given to other elderly monks who were in greater need.
An ascetic, a great faster, ever-vigilant, saying the Jesus Prayer day and night. He used to say simply: “I hear angelic chanting so sweet that my legs cannot hold me up because of that heavenly melody… Glory to God! I would not trade my cell for all the palaces of the world—my sweet little hut… I constantly live in such divine states. When divine Grace visits me, my heart is sweetly warmed by the love of God, and a strange light illumines me both inside and out; even my cell is filled with light. Then I take off my skufia, bow my head humbly, and say to Christ: ‘My Christ, strike my heart with the spear of Thy compassion.’ Sweet tears flow ceaselessly from my eyes out of gratitude, and I glorify God. I feel my face shining. In those hours everything stops; I feel Christ so close that I can no longer ask for anything—prayer itself stops; the prayer-rope can no longer move.”
Saint Paisios the Athonite (†1994) knew him well and wanted to become his obedient disciple. The elder Petro himself once walked for hours to tell the young Paisios not to trouble himself to come, because “I am going to die soon…” And so it happened.
Saint Paisios used to say of him: “Though he did not take care of his body at all—his skin clung to his bones—nevertheless he waged enormous spiritual struggles, and one could clearly see the Grace of God strengthening him. You could no longer see a stomach on old man Peter, only a hollow. When his robe opened a little at the chest, you could count his ribs—they looked like the bent reeds of a well-crushed basket. I have known many ascetics, but in old Petro one saw something different! A divine sweetness was painted on his face. His spiritual hive was full, and his spiritual honey overflowed.”
He visited the monasteries once or twice a year to give away his handiwork: prayer-ropes, mountain tea, and brooms. With one kilo of sugar he lived an entire year—and still had some left for the next. Once in Karyes he made the sign of the cross over a demon-possessed man with his prayer-rope, and the man was instantly healed. Every day he did about seven hours of services with the prayer-rope and around 700 great prostrations. He prayed much for the living and the reposed. He sincerely considered himself the most sinful person in the world.
He foresaw his end and prepared everything for his burial. He returned to the cell of his first struggles, that of St Nilus. On 12 June 1958, the feast of St Peter the Athonite (his own nameday), they celebrated Divine Liturgy and he received Holy Communion. After the Liturgy he went outside to prepare the treat for the fathers who had come from the surrounding cells. He sat among them so they could wish him “many years.” He closed his eyes and gave his holy soul into the hands of his Creator. The fathers thought he had simply dozed off from tiredness. When they realized what had truly happened, they heartily wished him “Good repose” and “A blessed Paradise.”
Sources • Monk Paisios the Athonite, Athonite Fathers and Athonite Matters, Souroti, Thessaloniki 1994 (3rd ed.), pp. 64–73. • Monk Moses of the Holy Mountain, Great Gerontikon of Virtuous 20th-century Athonite Fathers, Vol. B (1956–1983), pp. 595–597, Mygdonia Publications, 1st edition, September 2011.
May the humble and radiant Elder Petro intercede for us all!
