"Do not gravitate to the earth -
All is corruptible; only the happiness beyond the grave is eternal,
unchanging, true, and this happiness depends upon how we spend this life of
ours!"
"Make the habit to remember God,
not only during your prayers, but at every hour and minute of the day, for
He is everywhere present. Thus, peace will descend into your soul and
purpose into your work; and this work will be well regulated....He who
remains in the sun and he who remembers God, never freezes."
--- From What is the Spiritual Life
This thought is repeatedly expressed
in the books and letters of the great ascetic and recluse of Vysha,
Bishop Theophan. They are not mere words, for his own life served as
an example of this correct view of the world and the destiny of the soul; a
life of self-denial, reclusion, and the desire to take no thing from life
but a striving toward God. Bishop Theophan was born on January 1st, 1815, in
a village in the heart of Russia. His father was a priest and thus, from the
first impressions of his youth, he lived with the Church.
The difficult and even severe
conditions of the Orel Seminary where he studied, developed in him a strong
mental temper. He continued his education in the Kiev Theological Academy.
One may surmise that during this time the young student often went to the
justly renowned Kiev Caves Lavra where there could have been formed in him
the resolution to leave the world. Even be fore finishing the seminary
course, he was tonsured a monk. On this occasion he went to the Lavra to the
well-known Elder, Hieromonk Partheny, who told him:
"Remember that one thing is
most necessary of all: to pray and to pray unceasingly in your mind and
heart to God."
This counsel made a lasting impression
on the newly tonsured monk and he spent the rest of his life striving to
attain this "one thing needful."
Having finished the course with a
master's degree, Hieromonk Theophan was assigned as temporary rector of the
Kiev-Sofia Theo logical School. In the years that followed, he held various
administrative and teaching positions in different seminaries and academies,
but such scholarly work did not satisfy him and he petitioned to be
discharged from academic service.
In 1859 he was consecrated bishop for
Tambov. Here he established a diocesan school for girls. During his stay in
the Tambov See, Bishop Theophan came to love the isolated Vysha Hermitage.
In the summer of 1863 he was transferred to Vladimir, where he served for
three years. Here too, he opened a diocesan school for girls. He often
served in church, traveled much throughout the diocese, preached constantly,
restored churches, and wholeheartedly lived with his flock, sharing with
them both joy and sorrow.
In 1866 Bishop Theophan petitioned to
be relieved as Bishop of Vladimir and was appointed head of the Vysha
Hermitage, and soon, at a new petition of his, he was freed even from this
duty.
What reasons induced Bishop Theophan,
full of strength, to leave his diocese and retire into solitude? Various are
the characters and gifts of men. It was difficult for him in the midst of
the world and those demands to which one must yield as a consequence of
human corruption. His unlimited goodness of heart, a meekness like that of a
dove, his trust of people and indulgence of them-all this indicated that it
was not for him to live amidst the irreconcilable quarrels of vain worldly
life. It was very difficult for him to be a leader, especially in such an
important position as that of bishop. His trust could be abused; he could
never give necessary reprimands. Besides this, he felt the call to devote
all his energies to spiritual writing. As for himself personally, he wished
to give up all his thoughts to God alone, Whom he loved so absolutely. He de
sired that nothing might disturb the complete communion with God that was so
dear to him. And he left the world to be alone with God.
In reclusion, invisible to people, he
became a public figure of enormous magnitude. He sought only the Kingdom of
God, and his great significance for the world was added to him.
The first six years the Bishop went to
all services and to the early Liturgy. In church he stood without moving,
without leaning, with eyes closed so as not to be distracted On feast days
he usually officiated.
Beginning in 1872, however, he
discontinued all intercourse with people except for the chief priest and his
confessor. He went no longer to the monastery church, but built with his own
hands in his chambers a small church dedicated to the Baptism of the Lord.
For the first ten years he served the Liturgy in this church every Sunday
and feast day, and for the next eleven years everyday. He served completely
alone, sometimes in silence, but sometimes singing.
He seemed to be no longer a man, but
an angel with a childlike meekness and gentle ness. When people came to him
on business, he said what was necessary and plunged back into prayer. He ate
only enough so as not to ruin his health. Everything that he received he
sent by mail to the poor, leaving himself only enough to buy necessary
books. From his publications, which were quickly distributed, he received
nothing, hoping only that they might be sold as cheaply as possible.
In the rare moments when he was free
from prayer, reading, or writing, he occupied himself with manual labor. He
painted excellent icons and was skilled in woodcarving and the locksmith's
trade.
Every day Bishop Theophan received
from twenty to forty letters, and he answered them all. With extraordinary
sensitivity he penetrated to the spiritual situation of the writer and
warmly, clearly, and in detail replied to this confession of a distressed
soul.
In addition to this enormous flow of
correspondence, the years of reclusion also produced a wealth of books.
These include works on moral theology-The Path to Salvation, What the
Spiritual Life is and How to Attune Oneself to it; commentaries on Holy
Scripture, and translations, among which is to be found the spiritual
classic Unseen Warfare.
The life of Bishop Theophan passed
unseen by the world, and death too came to him in solitude. Beginning
January 1, 1891, there were several irregularities in his schedule. On the
afternoon of January 6, his cell-attendant noticed that the Bishop was weak
and looking into his room, he found the Bishop lying on the bed lifeless.
His left arm rested on his breast and his right arm was folded as if for a
bishop's blessing. He had died on the very day of his most beloved Feast, to
which his chapel was dedicated.
For three days the body remained in
the small church in his cell, and for three days it was in the cathedral-and
there was no corruption. When he was vested in his bishop's vestments, the
face of the dead man was brightened by a joyful smile.
In Bishop Theophan's cell everything
was extremely simple, even meager. The walls were bare, the furniture old.
There was a trunk with instruments for lathe-work, carpentry, book-binding;
photographic equipment, a bench for sawing, a joiner's bench. And then the
books-books without number, without end, in Russian, Slavonic, Greek,
French, German, and English. Among them were: a complete collection of the
Holy Fathers; a theological encyclopedia in French in 150 volumes, the works
of the philosophers Hegel, Fichte, Jacobi, and others; works on natural
history by Humboldt, Darwin, Fichte, and others. One calls to mind his
words: "It is good to understand the structure of plants, of animals,
especially of man, and the laws of life; in them is revealed the wisdom of
God, which is great in everything."
The great hierarch is hidden from us
in body, but his spirit lives in the divinely wise printed works which he
left. In the person of Bishop Theophan, as Archbishop Nicander of
Vilna has said,
"we have a universal Christian
teacher, even though he did not speak; a public figure, though in
reclusion; a preacher of the Church who was heard everywhere, even though
in his last years he appeared in no Church see; a bright lamp of Christ's
teaching for Orthodox people, even though he concealed himself from the
people's gaze; possessing scarcely a sufficiency of earthly goods, yet
enriching all with the spiritual wealth of his teaching; seeking no
temporal, earthly glory, yet glorified now by all those who have been
inspired by his writings to follow this holy recluse on the path to
salvation, a path which leads to constant prayer and the state of being
alone in one's heart with God."
From "Orthodox Word,"
July-August, 1966
