By Fr. George Dorbarakis
We came to know Saint Arsenios the Cappadocian, called Hatzefentis, mainly from the book written about him by another Saint of our time, Elder Paisios the Athonite. He was the one who “charmed” Saint Paisios from a young age, already by their place of common origin, Farasa in Cappadocia, and for this reason he wanted to follow in his footsteps in life and become a monk, fully dedicated to God. And perhaps this turn of Elder Paisios towards the monastic life, apart from his own inclination, was due to a certain extent to the power of the prayer of Saint Arsenios, who saw in the person of the little Farasiotes (later Saint Paisios, son of the then President of the people of Farasa, Prodromos Eznepides), his own successor, as he even expressed this at the time of the child's baptism - it is known that at the time of naming, he "forced" the godfather to say his own name, Arsenios, instead of the name Christos. Saint Paisios' desire to write the life of Saint Arsenios was embedded in him for many years before this became a reality. And when he had already collected enough evidence, which over time increased after his own research and that of other acquaintances, and had somehow completed the book, Saint Arsenios after a miraculous appearance “applauded” the work of his disciple and “successor.”
The fact that a Saint writes about another Saint shows the seriousness of the undertaking and gives the inner confidance that what is written is valid and has the seal of the Spirit of God. Hasn’t this happened throughout time in our Church? How many saints wrote about their predecessors, such as Saint Athanasius, for example, about Saint Anthony the Great? Our souls are therefore at rest, as we go through the life of the Holy Hatzefentis, becoming partakers of the grace that his biographer lived through the report of the testimonies he collected. We do not wish to expand particularly on this life – it is very easy to seek it out and find it, as it is not very extensive – but to dwell on a point that Saint Paisios touches upon from the life of this new Cappadocian saint.
The only thing we would perhaps like to say from his biography is that he was born in 1840 in Farasa, from a young age he felt the grace of the saints who moved him to the desire for God. He studied because he had a great receptive mind, then he was ordained a clergyman and was a teacher to the children of the villages of his area. As a clergyman he demonstrated a rare sacrificial disposition towards his flock and not only that, he was gifted by God with a clairvoyant and miraculous charisma that was enjoyed by Christians and Muslims. He had intense patriotism so that he took the lead in maintaining and cultivating the national feeling of the Greeks who were immersed in Turkey. He was fearless and courageous like a lion, and all this within a harsh asceticism towards himself that was constantly expressed as deep humility (he fought ardently to hide it with a kind of foolishness) and boundless love for all. In 1924, he, along with the other people of Farasa, was forced to leave his homeland and take refuge in the Great Fatherland, Greece, where, arriving in Kerkyra, after forty days, as he had prophesied, he delivered his sanctified soul into the hands of his Creator. In 1958, Saint Paisios had his remains transferred and taken to Konitsa and then to Thessaloniki, while the Ecumenical Patriarchate in February 1986 officially included him in the charters of the saints of the Church.
What is the point we want to focus on? On what the venerable Elder Paisios writes about the pastoral activity of Saint Arsenios, when after the Divine Liturgy he would gather the people of Farasa, especially the older ones, in order to speak to them about topics from the Gospel, about the lives of saints, about stories even from the Old Testament. The manner and process of his pastoral work is remarkable, which reveals the height of his discernment and holiness.
“When (Saint Arsenios) saw some old men getting anxious, whenever the story was long, and they wanted to smoke, he himself would get up and bring them tobacco and relax them in these cases; and thus they were willing to sit and listen attentively, so that they could then tell them each in their own home or neighborhood.”
One would think that the Saint would be angry to see the anxiety of the elders in order to satisfy a passion of theirs. And perhaps justifiably so: he was preaching the word of God, attempting to elevate them to a higher spiritual level, that is, to make them sharers in God’s grace, while they were moving on a “carnal” level. Doesn’t this level challenge a worker of God? Because it reveals that the priority of these people is material and earthly things, their passions and not God and His word. But the Saint was down to earth and deeply understood human nature. He knew that when someone has given in to a passion, and indeed repeatedly, then this passion, due to habit, acquires great depth in the human soul, takes root and becomes so firmly established that it becomes almost impossible to eradicate. It is no coincidence that most philosophers of life say that habit becomes second nature to man – its elimination resembles the “death” of man and causes the greatest suffering. Saint Ephraim the Syrian, for example, often reminded us that we should not get used to giving in to our passions, because this habit becomes our second nature: “Do not become accustomed to defeat in war. For habit is a second nature.” Thus, Saint Arsenios understood the pain and “anxiety” of the elderly addicted to cigarettes. Even if they wanted to quit, they could not do it all at once.
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
