Spiritual maturity
One of the issues that occupied much of my reflection in prison, particularly during the 1950s and 1960s, was that of spiritual maturity. When I contemplated the effects of atheistic education on the souls of those who had been unconsciously infected by the morass of communism, I realised that this spiritual perversion would be the most tragic legacy of that regime.
In education, besides deepening elementary religious knowledge and liturgical practice, there is a pressing need for a specialised theological course of no more than two years.
The first year should be devoted to biblical history and archaeology, and the second to dogmatics and apologetics, accompanied by an experience of Christian community life (in a boarding environment). In this way, each soul would be edified, gaining a clearer sense of direction and responsibility before God, and an awareness of Christian solidarity within the broader social and historical context would be strengthened.
We had even drafted an analytical programme for each year and for every subject. As pedagogical methods for community life — divided into groups of 12–13 students, each guided by a priest-confessor (teacher) — I proposed: obedience and discipline, study and meditation, prayer and recollection. The student would be awakened to a sense of incompleteness and the desire for perfection, while the teacher — priest, educator, and confessor — would bear the profound responsibility of instructing souls with salvation in mind.
When I left prison, I had written all this in a notebook. Out of fear of being re-arrested and losing it forever, I made the mistake of entrusting it to a young bricklayer from my work team, believing he would keep it safely in the countryside until it could be handed over to the Patriarchate in case of my re-imprisonment.
He assured me it was well hidden. Yet when I asked about it in the 1980s, he claimed to remember nothing. Later, I heard from his children that they had gathered all the old papers in the house and sold them as waste paper — for about ten lei. I accepted this loss as a sign that God had not deemed it necessary for such a document to survive. After all, the Church itself tends every soul; the family and school have the sacred duty to build the faith of children; and the theological seminaries and faculties already provide students with a depth of formation. There was, perhaps, no need for another school.
Regular spiritual retreats kept me vigilant in my inner life and allowed me to share reflections of holy contemplation with those around me. Even if this was their only outcome, it was enough for our souls — which Satan and his servants continually sought to draw away from heavenly contemplation toward earthly distractions.
“Through the Holy Spirit the whole soul lives and is elevated by purity. It is enlightened by the unity of the Trinity and by the holy mystery. Through the Holy Spirit comes the fullness of the knowledge of God, the contemplation of heavenly things, and wisdom. For in Him all the paternal dogmas are revealed through the Word. Through the Holy Spirit flow the rivers of gifts that water all flesh unto the fruitfulness of life.”
This hymn of praise and adoration sung at the Eucharist is what my heart continues to sing in honour of the Holy Spirit, our Caretaker and Comforter of all.
“I will not leave you alone; I will send you the Counsellor, the Spirit of Truth, whom the world does not know, but you know, for He is with you and abides in you.”
At times, I thought it might have been good if that notebook had survived, at least as a document of spiritual life for those imprisoned under communism. Yet I came to understand that God does not work according to our plans, but according to His own. We do not always feel or comprehend His ways; we cannot reproach Him for not fulfilling our prayers or intentions, even when we sincerely sought to please Him. Our purpose, our thought, and our effort remain inscribed in the book of His omniscience, contributing to each person’s final joy or sorrow — according to the service to which every act of our life has been devoted.
(Virgil Maxim, Hymn to the Cross Bearer. Abecedar duhovnicesc pentru un frate de cruce, 2nd edition, Antim Publishing House, Bucharest, 2002, pp. 449–450.)