Father Justin – a candle in the darkness of this age

“I wanted to be like the Elder”

– Father Justin Petre, tell us what Father Justin Pârvu meant for the life of your holiness?

– Like many of those who knew him, I can say that Father Justin changed my life. It was during my university days, when I was determined to pursue a university career and was thinking of getting married. I was in my fourth year, before my degree, during the Easter holidays, and my brother picked me up and took me to see Father Justin. It was more out of curiosity that I went to see the Elder. An encounter took place that really changed my life. There was no exchange of words, the Father did not clarify, no questions, no dialogue. I saw him – and something very deep in my soul was stirred. From that moment on I felt that I had to rethink all my aspirations, all my ideals, all my future.

I spent a long time, a long time afterwards, thinking: what happened then? And I think it left a very strong impression on me: the impression of a man who had got where he wanted to be, a man who had lived life the way he wanted to live it – rather than life living him, ‘by accident’. Although later, when I found out how he lived and learned about his imprisonment, I realised that he had lived a very tortured life. And yet he left me with the impression of a man who had no regrets about his past, a man who really shone.

This was in the context that at the age of 23, which was my age at the time, I was desperately looking for role models, I wanted to decide something for my future. Disillusioned with society, disillusioned with the university, disillusioned with the people I met, I was slowly, slowly slipping into a comfortable life, with a family, with children… That was the only prospect that excited me at the time. Not even the prospect of being a priest in a forgotten village brought me joy.

It was against this background that I came to the Elder, and he made a terribly strong impression on me, and I wished I could become like him. I said to myself, “There’s the man I’ve been looking for all my life! The first man in my life who made me believe that this was the way to live, and no other. That’s when a 180-degree turn in my life began. Everyone was very shocked when they heard that I had decided to enter the monastery…

“If you are convinced that this is your destiny, do it fully”.

In a few months I got my degree and immediately after I got my degree I returned to Petru Vodă. I had promised the Elder at the first meeting that I would come back and talk to him again. And I did. I said to him, “I don’t see myself doing anything else but the priesthood, I don’t see myself doing any other work in this life but the work of a priest! And then he said to me, “Well, if that’s what you want, and you’re convinced that that’s what you’re meant to do, then do it fully”. I didn’t understand. “What does fully priesthood mean?” I asked him, “what do you mean by that word?…” “Well,” he said, “become a monk!” “But why?”, I said, “isn’t it the same priesthood when you have children…” And he said, “My dear, I confess to thousands of priests and there are many, many problems! No matter how well you are prepared, no matter how well you do your work, there are many, many problems that arise and distract you from what you have to do in the service of Christ”. And then I made a calculation, I said that since I’m crazy and atypical, I’d better do it on my own beard so as not to torture anyone else…

– Now that you are a priest, do you think that Father Justin has left his mark on your mission?

– Of course he did. Something wonderful happened. He hastened me a little. After I entered the monastery, he made me a monk, not even three months later, I think. After three months of training there, in Petru-Vodă, he called me one day and said: “Tomorrow I’ll make you a monk. It happened on St. Catherine’s Day, 25 November 2001. And then, at the beginning of Lent, he called me again and said: “You have to be a priest by Easter”. I tried to arrange with His Eminence Pimen in Suceava to return to my dear Bukovina if Petru-Vodă still did not ordain you. But nothing came out of Suceava, time passed, Easter was approaching… And on Palm Sunday, a week before Easter, the Elder called me and said: “Tomorrow you pack your bags and go to Constanța”.

I had lost all hope. It was at that moment that I saw the old man as a man of the spirit, as a man who had a special passage before God, and every word he spoke was not spoken for free. And that was the first moment of doubt: “Look, the Elder is wrong, it’s not what he said. And on Monday I went to Constanța, on Tuesday I met with His Eminence Theodosius, on Wednesday I visited the monastery for which I was called here, on Thursday he ordained me a deacon, on Friday it was an aliturgical day (because it was Good Friday) and on Saturday morning he made me a priest. And the first Liturgy I celebrated at the altar was on Easter night! It was a wonderful thing for me. ….

“With Father Justin I experienced a communication of silence”.

– What was Father Justin like as a confessor?

– As a confessor, he taught me a lesson that I will never forget for the rest of my life. I had made a mistake once, and I wasn’t that affected by the stupidity I had done, so I went to him because I just had to go to confession: “Father, I have done this and that.” And I was looking like this, in his eyes, to see what his reaction was, to see: is he going to scold me, is he going to hit me, what is he going to do to me? And he didn’t say anything, he lowered his head, as was his habit, he bowed his head, and as I looked at him very closely, I was so astonished, and then I was struck by the Elder’s reaction. He really started to cry, tears were streaming down his cheeks. And only then did I realise the seriousness of the act, and for the first time I felt real repentance in confession. It was another moment of transformation that he brought to my soul. And just like the first time, the second time was without a word. That was his power, his work: he crushed you without saying a word.

– Of all the teachings he gave you, which do you think is the most characteristic of Father Justin?

– Unfortunately, I don’t know the answer to this question. When I was in Constanța, here in Dobrogea, I was also very often with Father Arsenie Papacioc and I can draw a parallel between them. Father Arsenie Papacioc was a father of the word. When I used to go to see him, you could not leave for an hour and a half, two hours. There were all kinds of questions, on different subjects. That was my relationship with Father Arseny, and the communication was at that level, of dialogue. I would always ask and he would answer. And in time, in a year or two, I managed to fix in my mind some very clear instructions from Father Arsenius.

But with Father Justin it was different. It was more of a silent communication. When I went to see him, I would tell him what I was doing in the monastery – things like that, unimportant things. I would show him photos, he would say words of encouragement… He once told me to shine my faith here in Constanța, like the lighthouse in Constanța. To be a light for others. That was how he used to take me, with soft, gentle words, to give me the courage to go on. Even during the short time I stayed in Petru-Vodă, I would go to the Elde, because I felt the need to see him, to ask him some questions – and everything would fall apart when I got to him, I didn’t know what to ask him; he would give me a banana, an orange, and that was the end of our meeting! Although he kept me for half an hour and more, we didn’t talk about the essential things, like repentance, tears, the prayer of the heart. It was a different kind of communication, a communication of sensibility. Whenever I left the Elder, I felt like a silly child, and at the same time very happy. He gave me sadness, because I realised that I wasn’t doing what I was supposed to do. But he never told me what to do. At least he didn’t with me.

“I cried tears as big as dew…”

– Can you tell us about a wonderful experience you had with Father Justin?

– Well, the most wonderful experience was this year on the 1st of June. I used to go to Petru-Vodă every year, for the last six years, on the 1st of June, the birthday of St. Justin Martyr and Philosopher. And there we would meet all the “Justines”, with Father Justin Pârvu at the head: there was Mother Justina, Father Justin the Young from Petru-Vodă – “Iustinel” as I call him – and myself. We had a glass of champagne, a biscuit, a very relaxed atmosphere. After Liturgy, of course, we went to see the Elder. A warm, cordial meeting, no big words, no fuss.

This year I went, also on the 1st of June. All the “Justines” were waiting for me, even surprised: “Look, it’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon and I thought you weren’t coming”. Father Justinel told me that he had been thinking about me during the whole Liturgy, wondering why I hadn’t come this year. Finally I showed up, I went to see the old man, but I couldn’t go in; I stayed in the antechamber because there was a doctor with him, and he was putting in his drips. And after the doctor left, I went in to see the Elder.

He was very weak. He looked me in the eyes, looked at me. I noticed that he couldn’t speak, he was trying, he was trying to speak, but he couldn’t understand much, and then again I felt like a stupid child who didn’t know how to express himself, he didn’t know why he had come, he didn’t know how to behave, and I said to him: “Father, we have come as usual on the 1st of June to celebrate together”. He was lying there in pain and I was talking nonsense! And I said one minute, two… He looked at me and there was silence. And he started talking. I didn’t understand what he was saying, I moved closer to him, and the moment I heard what he was saying, I was shaken again. It was the first time in my life that I cried with tears, how shall I say? Tears as big as dew. What did he say to me? Whispered, barely audible. I think he said fifty times over and over for a few minutes: “Forgive me! Forgive me! Forgive me!” I couldn’t hear, I came closer, and the moment I realised what he was saying, it shook me to the core. It was the most terrible shaking he’s ever done to my soul since I can remember.

“That’s it, we’re moving on.”

– Why were there so many people looking for him?

– From my point of view, he could rightly be called the greatest confessor of the Romanians, even statistically, if we were to talk about it, because I am convinced that more than ten million Romanians passed before him. Why did they seek him out? Because he had this power to transmit beyond words. A power that I also felt and that changed my life. I told you that I spoke to many people and they all told me the same thing: “Meeting Father changed our lives!” I even know someone who was of Turkish origin who converted to Orthodoxy after meeting Father Justin.

– Father had an extraordinary spirit of self-sacrifice that I have never seen in anyone else. To think that he spent seventeen hours a day at the service of the people…

– Yes. Many times when I went to see the Elder, I had the feeling that he was exhausted by the problems of the people who came, who complained, who were very broken… And when I came, or with other pilgrims from Constanța, I had the feeling that he kept us with him for an hour, two hours, just to catch his breath. To talk about beautiful things, bright things. Many times I felt him like this, at the end of his strength, and I asked him: “Father, don’t you want to rest? You are of an age now…” “Here I am.” “And until when?” I asked him. He said: “Well, until the end. That’s it, we go on”.

Again, let’s think about the fact that Father Justin is the only one who was aware and made a special effort to build monasteries on the places of suffering of the martyrs, of those who suffered in communist prisons. He managed to start something in Aiud, and he managed to start a monastery here in Poarta Albă. I thought that it would have been exactly one year since he was in Constanța last year for the consecration of the monastery – he stayed from the 1st to the 17th of June. We were waiting for him to come this year to see what had been done… But he sees it differently now.

I hope that the seed he has sown will grow and that monasteries will be built in all the fortresses, in all the prisons where those who believed in God were tortured…

(Hieromonk Justin Petre – Orthodox Family Magazine, No. 7 (54), July 2013, pp. 31-35)