The Life and Teaching of Elder Onesimos of Lakkoskete, Part 1
Elder Onesimos (né Petros Bourantas) of Lakkoskete (b. 1915 (?), d. 1994) is one of the lesser known modern elders of Mount Athos, and for a reason: his strange prophecies defy categorization or ready interpretation, and are largely ignored or dismissed by even the monks of Lakkoskete, near which the cave is situated that he occupied for more than thirty years. Even so, a very small circle of lay devotees remains centered around his teaching and the miracles attributed to him after his death. Practically nothing seems to have been published about him- even in Greece, only a few papers languish in neglected university archives. Approaching certain monks and clergymen who had dealings with him, one senses that the Elder's obscurity is, for them, not regretted. The following material is taken largely from the pamphlet, simply entitled Miracles and Visions of Elder Onesimos of Lakkoskete, which was distributed anonymously among certain pious circles and in very limited quantities, shortly after his passing in 1994.
The first segment we present is the striking account, purportedly by Elder Onesimos himself, of his conversion from a hardened communist guerilla in World War II to an ascetic hermit. There are several variants circulating of this unnerving episode; dates and details vary, but the strange lights seen below the lake surface and the mysterious destruction of the German platoon are among the constant factors. The version here is taken from the aforementioned pamphlet Miracles and Visions... The English translation is my own. - A Vernardakis
You know I was not always a monk, not always a Christian even. My mother and father were both anarchists- their religion was literature, philosophy. These things are alright but they cannot save us. My grandma had me baptized in secret- she didn't tell me till I was a teenager and I didn't understand. I did not preserve this gift of baptism, and remained a materialist as I had been raised. In the war I came into the ELAS. I had seen so much evil and was full of hate and rage. But I would be changed.
It was late Summer 1944, a few weeks after the massacre at Distomo. We all heard how they killed everyone there. Even babies. And they beheaded the priest. We were atheists to a man but somehow that bothered us. Hate, rage, horror. We were around Lake Yliki, in the hills there; there was smoke from one of the villages that the Germans had torched, and we saw some of them moving along the lake at dusk. We took positions in the scrub and rocks of the hills and began firing down at them.
It was a poorly judged attack; we didn't realize there were more of them on our flank, and we were pretty quickly in a hopeless situation. A bullet had grazed my skull and sent blood pouring over my left eye; I lay as flat as I could, with my face in the dirt. Strung out in front of me in the dirt, on its silver chain, was a medallion of the Archangel Michael that grandma had put around my neck years ago. Instinctually I grabbed and kissed it.
I dare not say what I saw next, except this- weird green lights were moving in the lake, and the water was troubled, but the darkness around us deepened, as the sun plunged below the hills. It was such a complete darkness that I could barely see my comrades beside me, except with their rifle-flashes lit their faces. But the gunfire lessened and quieted, and instead the hills around the lake echoed with shouts and pitiful screams. There were other things I heard and saw, but for your sake I will not relate them.
Those of us surviving huddled in terror through the night and when dawn came, there was nothing to be seen of the Germans, except a boot, some tracks, shell casings, things like that. Without telling anyone I threw my rifle away and vanished into the hills. I turned to the Lord. Lord, I said, what can rifles do, compared to what You have shown me? I am a worm, and no man. Teach me repentance, Lord. Teach me humility and love.
A few years ago I heard the authorities dredged the lake for war remains. They found a motorcycle and sidecar, some helmets, but not a single skeleton or bone.
The first segment we present is the striking account, purportedly by Elder Onesimos himself, of his conversion from a hardened communist guerilla in World War II to an ascetic hermit. There are several variants circulating of this unnerving episode; dates and details vary, but the strange lights seen below the lake surface and the mysterious destruction of the German platoon are among the constant factors. The version here is taken from the aforementioned pamphlet Miracles and Visions... The English translation is my own. - A Vernardakis
You know I was not always a monk, not always a Christian even. My mother and father were both anarchists- their religion was literature, philosophy. These things are alright but they cannot save us. My grandma had me baptized in secret- she didn't tell me till I was a teenager and I didn't understand. I did not preserve this gift of baptism, and remained a materialist as I had been raised. In the war I came into the ELAS. I had seen so much evil and was full of hate and rage. But I would be changed.
It was late Summer 1944, a few weeks after the massacre at Distomo. We all heard how they killed everyone there. Even babies. And they beheaded the priest. We were atheists to a man but somehow that bothered us. Hate, rage, horror. We were around Lake Yliki, in the hills there; there was smoke from one of the villages that the Germans had torched, and we saw some of them moving along the lake at dusk. We took positions in the scrub and rocks of the hills and began firing down at them.
It was a poorly judged attack; we didn't realize there were more of them on our flank, and we were pretty quickly in a hopeless situation. A bullet had grazed my skull and sent blood pouring over my left eye; I lay as flat as I could, with my face in the dirt. Strung out in front of me in the dirt, on its silver chain, was a medallion of the Archangel Michael that grandma had put around my neck years ago. Instinctually I grabbed and kissed it.
I dare not say what I saw next, except this- weird green lights were moving in the lake, and the water was troubled, but the darkness around us deepened, as the sun plunged below the hills. It was such a complete darkness that I could barely see my comrades beside me, except with their rifle-flashes lit their faces. But the gunfire lessened and quieted, and instead the hills around the lake echoed with shouts and pitiful screams. There were other things I heard and saw, but for your sake I will not relate them.
Those of us surviving huddled in terror through the night and when dawn came, there was nothing to be seen of the Germans, except a boot, some tracks, shell casings, things like that. Without telling anyone I threw my rifle away and vanished into the hills. I turned to the Lord. Lord, I said, what can rifles do, compared to what You have shown me? I am a worm, and no man. Teach me repentance, Lord. Teach me humility and love.
A few years ago I heard the authorities dredged the lake for war remains. They found a motorcycle and sidecar, some helmets, but not a single skeleton or bone.
Comments
Post a Comment