Father Gavriil, the covetous monk and wise confessor
When I think of my good friend, Father Archimandrite Gavriil Stoica, the first image that comes to mind is his cheerful face on a late December evening in 1958, an evening that I did not know at the time that I would never forget. I was in the hermitage of Ciocanu, near Câmpulung Muscel, and it was quite late when I heard some knocking at the door of the chapel.
I opened the door and saw the face of the one who was to be my dear friend for the rest of my earthly life, and whom I have no doubt I shall meet, if I am worthy, at the resurrection, so that we may spend eternity together under the merciful mantle of the One whom we have served, each according to our abilities, but with the same love, our Saviour Jesus Christ. The strong-willed monk who crossed the threshold not only of my cell but above all of my soul that December was Father Hieromonk Gavriil Stoica from the Slănic Hermitage, a hermitage located between Câmpulung Muscel and Curtea de Argeș. He told me that he was a student at the Theological Seminary in Bucharest, that he was on Christmas holidays and that when he came to Câmpulung, sent by the Abbot, he was late and could not find anything to take him to the Slănic Hermitage. Then he thought of going to the Ciocanu Hermitage, where he had been once before, with the intention of spending the night and going to his place of confinement the next day.
While I was talking to Father, I looked at him and it seemed to me that I was not looking at someone I was seeing for the first time, but on the contrary, someone I knew very well, an old and dear friend whose return I was very happy to see. It was not a meeting, but a reunion of two old friends. As has always been the unwritten rule in China, we first went to the refectory, where I gave Father a few words of advice, and then, back in the cell, we continued to talk, and I liked his particular way of speaking, the seriousness with which he treated his vocation as a young servant of Christ. We talked without having time to look at the clock, so we only woke up when we heard the bell for midnight Mass, and we both went to church. During the evening Mass, I enjoyed listening to Fr. Gavriil sing so beautifully that I thanked the Good Lord once again for bringing a special monk into my home and my soul. After the evening service, I took Father Gavriil to the chapel where he would sleep for the few hours remaining before dawn, but we continued to talk there as well, so that we could turn this dark and gloomy December night into a bright and joyful one.
At dawn, Father went to Câmpulung and from there to the Slănic hermitage. But it was God’s will and care that only two months later, in February 1959, I was consecrated in the Hermitage of Slănic, thus joining the same Oblate community as Father Gavriil. During the summer of that year, Fr. Gavriil, who had just graduated from the seminary, prepared with fervent zeal for the entrance examination to the Theological Institute at the University level in Bucharest. At that time, however, the relationship between the State and the Church had deteriorated to an unimaginable degree, and monasticism was increasingly viewed with hostility. It was in this tense atmosphere that, in the autumn of 1959, out of the rather large group of monks who had taken the exam, only one candidate was admitted to the Theological Institute: the graduate with the lowest average in the seminary! All the others, including Fr. Gavriil, were rejected. In spite of this painful injustice, Fr. Gavriil bore the undeserved defeat in the Institute examination with great dignity. He returned to the hermitage seemingly more at peace and at peace with himself, but also more determined than ever to face the even greater blows that the communist regime was preparing for monasticism, blows that were not long in coming, for in November 1959 Decree 410 would appear, with all its tragedies and horrors, which would put a bitter seal on many young people who had dedicated their pure lives to Christ the Saviour.
Although the time I spent with Fr. Gavriil in the hermitage of Slănic was short, it remains for me the most beautiful period of my life. There, in the community which the old and wise Vitimion led with zeal and skill, one lived in perfect peace, understanding and spiritual love. I lived in the same house with Fr. Gavriil, we had a common entrance and, being so close, I knew him so well that I can never forget Gavriil the monk, full of deep piety, spiritual fervour, Gavriil the prayerful monk, humble and so full of love for his fellow men that he went calmly to the point of sacrifice. Who could forget his pleasant voice, which beautifully adorned the Holy Masses that he loved with all his being? Father had a special love for proclaiming the Word of God, both in his homilies before the Holy Altar and in the wise counsels he generously shared with the faithful who sought him out of piety. Our joy and peaceful life in the Slănic Hermitage did not last until the summer of 1960, when, on the basis of Decree 410, our Hermitage was abolished and Father Gavriil was transferred to the Curtea de Argeș monastery, while Father Teofil Bădoiu and other brothers were expelled and left on the streets. In the hermitage, which has the status of a church attached to the parish of the village of Slănic, there are only three inhabitants left, led by the good Avva Vitimion.
For Father Gavriil, however, the persecution would not end there. The gifts with which God had endowed him made him sought out with love and hope by many of the faithful, and this naturally brought him in time into the merciless sights of the Securitate. In 1964 he was arrested and sentenced to 4 years in prison, accused of distributing religious books written by Father Nicodim Măndiță and of subversive propaganda. Released from prison after serving his sentence, he returned to Curtea de Argeș, where he did not stay long and was transferred to the Cheia Monastery in Prahova. In the meantime, I had also arrived in Prahova, at the Crasna Monastery, so it was God’s will that we should meet again and become “neighbours”. On 1 August 1978, Fr. Gavriil was appointed confessor of the Holy Zamfira Monastery, where he also moved. We remained neighbours. In fact, when I think about it, we were never separated, because even then, in the time of persecution, when we lived far from each other, we remained together in spirit, united in thought, prayer and fraternal communion. Becoming neighbours made it easier for us to see each other more often, either at Crasna Monastery or at Zamfira Monastery. We shared each other’s joys and sorrows, we always gave each other advice, and together we tried to find the best way when we were at a standstill or when the temptations of the enemy did not escape us. A monk full of zeal, a good confessor and teacher, kind to those who sought him out, but hard on himself, Father Gavriil was for me one of that rare breed of those chosen by God who know how to climb the steps of the spiritual life with great courage, going from virtue to virtue, from good to better, according to the teachings of the Holy Fathers and the great teachers of Orthodox monasticism, from whom I learned that for the spiritual man there is no standing still, but only a continuous ascent to perfection.
A skilful housekeeper of extraordinary meticulousness, he made his house and household a true paradise of cleanliness, order and the necessities of monastic life. His love of flowers contaminated the whole of the monastic community, so that Zamfira Monastery left indelible memories in the hearts and eyes of pilgrims.
To praise someone unjustly is a great sin, but to recognise the beautiful qualities and gifts that some people have received from God through spiritual zeal and holy living is a confessional word. Fr. Gavriil, today, half a century after that December when we first met, I have done no more than fulfil a small debt of gratitude to my good friend and spiritual brother, whom I will never forget and who will remain for me an example to follow throughout my life, a living icon of the monk striving for perfection, an icon whom I hope to see again beyond this passing age, in the eternal Kingdom of the Risen One, who “trampling down death by death”.
(Arch. Nicodim Dimulescu, “Father Gavriil, the desirous monk and wise confessor” in Archimandrite Gavriil Stoica. A Missionary Monk, Lover of Virtues and Flowers, published by arh. Timotei Aioanei, Basilica Publishing House, Bucharest, 2009, pp. 127-132).