An Hesychast in the land of the absurd: Father Sofian Boghiu
For a young person today, to whom modern (post-) “civilisation” imposes the constant search for novelty, change, difference, monastic life, with its repetitions, can seem extremely monotonous. But if he would be patient and turn his face towards the Church, he would see that, far from being monotonous, “repetition” is in fact the path that opens unsuspected spiritual depths.
Much has been written about Father Sofian Boghiu. It could not have been otherwise, since he embodied to such a high degree the original meaning of the word “monk” (ancient “beautiful”, improved). In a seemingly monotonous worldly existence, Father Sofian lived immersed in the Spirit, whose paths he also opened to the countless faithful who came to him for confession or advice. It is remarkable, however, that the notes in the Securitate files contain the same appreciative words…
A man uninterested in politics
Uninterested in politics, totally devoted to monastic life and church painting, Father Sofian came late to the attention of the repressive organs of the communist regime. It was not until the great upheaval at the beginning of 1958, when the Romanian Orthodox Church was attacked by the communists at all levels, that Abbot Sofian of Plumbuita Monastery came under “scrutiny”.
More precisely, on 11 January 1958, the Securitate opened an investigation file on the name of Father Sofian Boghiu, the reason for which was the exchange of letters with the monk Andrei Scrima, who had gone to India on a scholarship supported by Patriarch Justinian. These letters also mentioned friends from the former “Burning Bush” reflection group, which had de facto disbanded in 1948. However, following the example of what happened in Hungary at the end of 1956, the Romanian Securitate made the weakest attempt to group intellectual circles and, above all, their links with foreign countries.
Hunted, arrested, sentenced
However, the information gathered by the agents of the political police painted a picture of Father Sofian that was far from that of a conspirator, and the witnesses were very ambiguous. We learn that Father Sofian was always an elite pupil, considered to be a quiet, capable, fair, honest and dignified man. Under various obediences, whatever task he was given, he worked “without stint” and was admired for the disinterestedness with which he worked for the Church. A little too “mystical” for some people, Father Sofian was hardly considered an enemy of the regime.
Nevertheless, Abbot Sofian was arrested. In its own way, the Securitate sought diversity, but only to destroy it in the name of communist uniformity. And in 1958 the Communists were less willing than ever to accept diversity, even in thought. That is why Fr. Sofian Boghiu was included in the “Burning Bush” trial and sentenced to 16 years in prison. In order to justify such a harsh punishment, the priest was also accused of reading Radu Gyr’s poems and catechising young students, which was considered an incitement against the social order. In prison, in Aiud or in the marshes of Brăila, Father Sofian did what he did best: he prayed. Those who wrote about him described him as a quiet man who did not take part in discussions except on “dogmatic questions”.
A special person, “unfortunately mystical”.
Released in 1964, Sofian Boghiu, like all former political prisoners, was kept under surveillance. The regime wanted to see if he had succeeded in re-educating or at least intimidating his opponents. Much more relaxed, the communist leaders were no longer so interested in the ‘unity of spirit’, but were content to subdue the people and involve them in various actions designed to bring prestige to socialist Romania.
As for Father Boghiu, the Securitate agents had nothing to accuse him of: “Boghiu Sergie Sofian is a very serious man and a man of his word,” said one report. There is not a word that he does not carry out with the utmost rigour. Wherever he has been asked to serve, he has done so conscientiously, and for this he enjoys the confidence of the Church authorities”. Another said: “As a resident of Antim, he is quiet, a good servant, with presence, always seeking the good. With an impeccable moral life…”.
Moreover, as a church painter with many commissions, Father Sofian earned quite well. However, another informer pointed out that Father Sofian’s only “possession” was a library, “the only wealth he cherished”.
The secretaries were puzzled: how could there be such an honest, conscientious person, without material ambitions, but not animated by communist ideas? The “new man” proposed by the atheist ideology ideally had the same coordinates as those identifiable in Father Sofian, but this seemed out of the question, since the Father was a “mystical” person, and therefore, according to the communist doctrinaires, incapable of such noble attitudes. This raised the question of his sincerity, which was clearly answered by one of his admirers who was forced by the Securitate to give a characterisation: “I don’t know whether his ideal behaviour is motivated by conviction or obligation. However, I am inclined to believe that what he does comes from a conviction of his mission”.
Going abroad
In the end, the political police let things slide in the case of Father Sofian, also against the background of Romania’s relative openness to the world. However, when he expressed his desire to go to Mount Athos in 1970, a last-minute slanderous denunciation was enough to prevent him from obtaining a visa to leave the country, even though all the checks carried out up to that point had been positive from the point of view of “state security”. It took another year and massive intervention from outside Romania before Father Sofian was allowed to leave the country. Specifically, his Lebanese painting apprentice, Daniel Bedran, asked him to paint the church of the Deir-el-Harf monastery, where his old friend Andrei Scrima also belonged. Metropolitan George Handre warmly invited him, and Patriarch Justinian warmly recommended Fr. Sofian to Lebanon.
Until the last moment, there was some doubt about the granting of a passport. It took the representatives of the Church in Lebanon coming to Bucharest, the Romanian Patriarch taking charge, and the agents around Fr. Sofian making it clear that he would return to the country, for the authorities to agree to his departure.
The ordeal of an absurd regime
Father Sofian kept his word: he finished painting the church in Deir-el-Harf and returned to the country. Word of his skill spread to the East, and in 1979 he was asked to paint another church in Syria, in Hama. Before he left, he was summoned to the Securitate, as was the custom, to be “processed”. In Syria, the priest was not to speak to anyone, to avoid contacts, not to lend money, not to give interviews, not to go to the police. With these “recommendations”, the Securitate wanted to avoid discussing the realities of communist Romania, i.e. what the agents of the political police considered to be defamation of the country. The height of ridicule was reached, however, when the officer asked Father Sofian to paint the cathedral as well as possible “in order to raise the prestige of Romanian church painters”. Such situations show us what an absurd country Romania was in those years: the torturers ask the victim to do his best “for the country”, in fact for the good image of an inhuman regime, and the “reward” is only eternal suspicion.
The officer reported that Fr. Sofian Boghiu “understood what was explained to him”. Did the priest take part in the absurd play staged by the Securitate agents? Not at all. He was simply following his heart, as he had done when he left for Lebanon. Just before leaving the country in 1971, he confessed to an agent: “Boghiu Serghie Sofian remarked that he was not just thinking about winning, but wanted to do something that would last. By going there (to Lebanon), he is fulfilling a wish of those there, where he will work as a representative of our country, saying: “If I let myself go, well, if not, even better, because I have a lot on my mind. I have never thought of leaving and staying there, because nowhere else will I find work in Byzantine painting”. At the same time, another agent pointed out that Fr. Sofian was “a man who loves his country”. In other words, the spiritual impulse, the conscientiousness of the craftsman and the love for the “eternal Romania” were the only reasons that motivated Father Sofian in his actions. Once again, love was the answer to the absurdity of the world.
The flourishing “monotony” of the spiritual life
After becoming one of the most famous confessors in Bucharest, Father Sofian returned to the “monotony” of his monastic duties. From time to time, the Securitate took an interest in this man who, paradoxically for them, had all the qualities of the long-dreamed-of “new man”, but who was “unfortunately” “mystical”. However, one cannot help but imagine that, at least in the late 1980s, even the regime’s own people saw that the uniformity brought about by communism had only killed off any trace of diversity, while the “monotony” of people like Father Sofian made souls blossom and offered hope. It was precisely “mysticism”, i.e. the awareness of the presence and work of God, that was the condition for the emergence of a “new man”. Communist atheism, on the other hand, produced nothing but misery and desolation. Today, in the post-modern world, those who seek external “new challenges” empty their souls day by day, while the Word of God, constantly repeated, perfects the one who speaks it.
(George Enache – Lumina Newspaper)