The scientist Constantin Motaș, the declared atheist who found Christ behind the bars

I went in and found myself still in the same room number 3 that I had left not so long ago; an unforgivable oversight of the graft – despite the transformation of man brought about by socialism. And I stayed in the funnel and in the mud for another two weeks. The unyielding and sticky monotony, like that of the curmudgeons pressed into a box, was broken by the introduction of four other people, one of whom was the University Professor of Entomology Constantin Motaș, from the University of Bucharest – “the godfather of all the insects that appeared on the horizon of research”, as he himself confessed to us with charming modesty and frankness.

We soon understood that his great competence in entomology had given him the role of keeper and “baptiser” of all the insects discovered anywhere in the world. We did not find this recognition exaggerated when, for a moment, we perceived his science. But what amazed us more than his modesty and his science was his literary culture and his truly prodigious memory. He could recite to us in French, English and German poems, thousands of verses and long tirades by the classical dramatists – he who was in charge of the insects!

During the day and in his presence, as was my custom, I continued my catechetical or philosophical expositions, leaving him to satisfy the thirst for beauty and literature of my dark comrades. Seeing what an atmosphere it was, he carefully avoided quenching it a little. He did not join in the almost unanimous prayer. He sat respectfully on the sidelines, but without ostentation. When we asked him to enrich our cultural life, he said the best he could do was to recite some verses. At my insistence, with some embarrassment, he replied: “You know, my dear, I am an atheist, a socialist of the title of Petrescu, and I do not wish to shake with my knowledge any of the certainties of the truths of faith in which I see our cellmates are anchored. That is what they need here, not my atheistic knowledge. Faith keeps them in balance. How much I appreciated this open atheist at the time!

Following the example of others who had grown tired of the position of the sardine in the box and preferred to sit in the thick slime on the cement under the slingshot – a filthy mixture of dirt, sweat, filth and urine – I climbed out of the vat – a more inviting mud than the platforms, which supposedly had both air and light – and went down beside them, loathing the idea of a noble scientist like Motaș sitting where dogs would be loath to sit. But of course, as fascist beasts and Anglo-American imperialists, we deserved no better! […]

I did not have time to deepen the process, or even to have a little chat with Motaș, because he was shaking the bolt from the inside again and Geamănu was shoving it in my face, nodding his head wordlessly, knowing that I understood, that I understood his order to follow him with all my luggage in my arms. I did exactly the same, leaving behind me, as if to say goodbye, a gesture of collective embrace in which I embraced all those with whom I had shared the cross. In a small car, behind tinted windows, I was taken “on the back of the car” to the Ministry of the Interior, where I had never been before, but without ever having been posted there, and I, like everyone else, had heard of its fame, which sent shivers down our spines. […]

And behold, the work of Holy Providence continued… I have been taken and led back into the darkness of Jilava. As never before, alone, proof once again that I am guided by the hand of Providence. Not at night, as usual, but during the day, in the middle of the day; a Russian jeep picked me up from the interior and deposited me, my papers in order, in Maromet’s dungeon. Fortunately, it wasn’t him who took me in, but the first guard, Lis, a more serene character. He took me by the elbow and held me there until I reached the door, where I was delighted to see the number 3. It was completely unnatural and unusual that the secret, which had to be kept hermetically sealed, should return to the old place of such vivid magic. Why was I glad? I knew the environment only too well: lack of air, lack of space, urine and sweat, the smell of rotten teeth, the forgotten toothbrush. This would be my climate. But I was happy, perhaps because I was longing to find the support of prayer in community, where each one helps the other and is a sign of communion in suffering and hope. What kind of people will I find? […]

My confreres were the same, but the enthusiasm of the reunion had a reserve that I did not understand until, following their gaze, I recognised the window, a window that was different then: in it, with his back to us, was a man at prayer. I understood why they spoke in whispers and signs. After a few seconds, as a sign that he had just finished his prayer, the man at the window broke in two, knelt down and touched his forehead to the cement of the floor. When I turned towards the cell, already familiar with Jilava’s blackness, I recognised him: he was the avowed atheist scientist Motaș Constantin. Astonished and still in disbelief at what I saw, I said:

– You, Professor? – with the subtext: “How, you, an atheist, were you praying?”

– Yes, my dear, please!… Do you remember that not long ago you tried to prove that logic, enlightened by faith, is the only way to God? Then you ended your lecture with a quotation from the end of Camille Flammarion’s treatise on astronomy – “J’ai decouvert Dieu parmi les etoiles”[1] – he who had begun his studies as an atheist. And if he met God in the distance of the stars, I can say that I have found Christ here among the stars. I want to adore him, with the help of the Blessed Virgin, who, good as she is – much better than you have tried to describe her to us – accepted, standing under the grill as under the cross, under dozens of crosses of bars, to have the Wandering Son come to her side. I couldn’t bear to see the Son prolong the pain of her waiting. Now, when the waiting is over – along with the doubts and doubts within me – I want to believe that the Good Mother of those who return home will allow me to live with her. Today I am the happiest of all – as Karl Leisner, the Catholic in Dachau prison, described himself when he was ordained a priest for eternity by a French archpriest in the presence of a Protestant priest and some Catholic faithful. Motaș, of course, had not read Teresa of Avila[2] to absorb her thought. He had remained with the happy Leisner: he was happy in grace. […]

Once installed, life began to flow in its old way. Motaș liked my stay in the interior. He reflected more freely on what he had heard during the months he had spent listening to me from the sidelines, too unsigned and too incompetent to change his convictions. But I am sure that the scientist, as deeply honest as scientific research had made him, also deepened the hypothesis derived from what he had heard, which offered him suggestions for a new mental construct, elaborated in his own way. It was precisely for this modesty and honesty that he deserved divine help to surpass himself, for without the help of grace, even our inner ascent would not be possible. In Motaș, this interior elevation was achieved through prayer. And since prayer is the mother and source of our ascent to the heights (St. Dionysius the Areopagite), I believe that through prayer Motaș surpassed himself and arrived at what theology calls “scientific creationism”. I did not have the opportunity to explain to myself the spiritual process of conversion that the scholar underwent, nor did he share it with me. But I am sure he would have done so if we had stayed together longer. We didn’t. Too soon after our reunion we parted again, but we remained united in heart and faith. That was enough. His humility of mind and purity of purpose were the catalysts of his moving evolution, in which I had only played the role of a candlestick for the candle through which the Holy Spirit led him to heaven. […]

I could imagine that the new episode “Jilava” had served its purpose. Events soon confirmed this, for one day, around 10 o’clock, Sergeant Ivănică burst into the room, his importance heightened by the sheet of paper he was holding. And Ivănică, with communist fervour in his voice, shouted: “Bandits! Attention!” (What else could a shy and elegant scholar like Motaș be but a “bandit”! “Whoever hears you, take your bulendars and come out into the corridor! To my misfortune, I was the first to be shouted at.

(Tertullian Langa – Crossing the Threshold of Silence. A documentary book, 3rd edition, Galaxia Gutenberg Publishing House, Târgu-Lăpuș, 2010, pp. 109-110, 120, 131-136)

[1] “I discovered God among the stars”. C. Flammarion – French astronomer and writer, author of several treatises on astronomy.

[2] Teresa of Jesus (or Teresa of Avila), Catholic nun, reformer, mystic, founder of the Order of Discalced Carmelites.