“With God’s mercy, I will leave tonight”
Midnight Masses
I met Father Argatu in the monastery of Căldărușani shortly after the terrible earthquake of 1977. There were many people in his chapel from all over the country, a sign that Father was stronger than any communist obstacle.
I saw him again a few years later in the monastery of Cernica, where he had moved permanently. Father was unchanged. He radiated the same spiritual strength and serenity, and above all, his eyes were bright, open, joyful, like those of a child.
An incomparable man of prayer, Father had the great gift of thaumaturgy and exorcism. Gentle and of immense patience, he listened to everyone’s problems, the prescribed medicine always being fasting and prayer, but accompanied by an obligatory change and healing of each person’s life, through participation in the Holy Mysteries of the Church, through a gradual awareness of the evil that hides, often unnoticed, in the mystery of our soul. For those who are seriously ill, demonised or afflicted by deep-seated passions, Father Ilarion recommends the Sacrament of Holy Unction, repeated 3, 7 or 9 times, depending on the seriousness of the case.
The door of Father Ilarion’s cell was always open. At six o’clock in the morning, with the discipline of a former soldier, he opened his cell to the faithful. At eleven in the morning and at six in the evening he would say the prayers of anointing, so that at midnight he could say the powerful molitvas of St. Basil. Many were healed physically and above all spiritually, because the Father had seven prayers of great power: for health, for strength and help in the home, for help in teaching pupils and students, etc.
In the simple and clean room, full of icons, there were always 12 plain candles burning (as he used to say), candles under which he placed the list of names and prayer requests of the sickest and most troubled faithful. He would sit in his martyr’s chair from morning till night, listening patiently to everyone. He didn’t talk much, often speaking in parables. He was convinced that prayer and exorcism could cure all mental illnesses. In the most difficult cases, he would stay with the patient in the chapel for several days, fasting and praying with them. Strengthened by the courage of his faith, he was not afraid to accept even those who were considered dangerous without discrimination. The only precaution he took was to ring a bell to alert the brothers in the monastery in the event of an unusual situation.
A guiding light
I had the immense privilege of spending a few hours of the night in Father’s cell, where there was another particularly violent young man – he was banging his head against the walls, desperately trying to hurt himself. Without losing his temper, Father said a few prayers, sprinkled him with holy water, and after a while the young man calmed down. Watching over him like a devoted doctor, Father began to talk to me about the virtues of patience, then he told me about his life of suffering: his childhood in a poor family, his escape from the Securitate for 16 years, his enemies’ attempts to poison him. Nothing in his words betrayed any ugly thoughts of hatred or revenge. Smiling and with a peasant’s humour of the highest spiritual health, Father spoke as if amazed at the strength God had given him. “You won’t believe me, brother, but for years I didn’t cough or even sneeze. Sitting hidden in an attic, with the secret police in the house waiting to catch him, Father felt God’s help as a revelation. After the guiding light of Christ had appeared to him in the church as a child, the same light was guiding his steps and keeping him from being caught. “In 16 years, I changed my hiding place several times,” says Father. I was walking along the road and suddenly an unnaturally bright light appeared in front of me. It was a sign that I should hide in the bush. In fact, a few minutes later, the guards passed by without seeing me.
Like any great confessor, he earned the gift of prayer in hardship and suffering. Humble and alive, Father Ilarion refused the honours of this world, press interviews, public appearances. Only once, after 1990, did he agree to be filmed by television, standing next to the walnut tree outside his cell, without saying anything.
His dream, a mystical command from his youth, was to build a convent of nuns in the Holy Land. A certain Brother Dumitru had given him a piece of land near Jericho, next to the Zacchaeus’ sycamore tree, the tax collector and not far from the winter residence of the Greek Patriarchate. He knew that the enemy would oppose this project fiercely, but despite all the attempts and death threats from the Arabs, he did not despair. Although he did not live to see his dream fulfilled, he bequeathed the land and the future monastery to the Roman Patriarchate as a sign of his longing.
Prayer of the heart
The night he received me in his cell, Father Ilarion was 80 years old. After keeping vigil for a while and listening to him, I dozed off. When I woke up, Father was praying. He hadn’t slept at all. At 80, he had the prayer of the heart and a strength that only true faith can give. Through Father, a vessel of great honour, many miracles were performed. Before the astonished eyes of the faithful, a crippled woman in a pram, after three days of prayer, stood up and walked home. Imitating the ascetic way of life of Saint Calinic of Cernica, Father Ilarion often fasted with the faithful, as he did with a woman who had cursed her son. She fasted for 14 days and, by constantly repeating the molitve of St. Basil, the child was cured. In his austere cell in Cernica, Father performed countless miracles, delivered those possessed by the devil – an unprecedented miracle – and brought many back to the faith. No one left his house without help, support and hope. Of all the gifts he received, he kept nothing for himself. He helped the poor, remote monasteries, built churches, like the one in Boroaia.
He died with a last and testamentary word on his lips: “Pray to the Mother of God”. He fell asleep peacefully, surrounded by the faithful, while in the morning of that day he was saying: “With God’s grace, I will go tonight”. It happened on a Tuesday. He would have been 86 on 2nd of August.
(Ion Marin Bălan – Formula AS magazine, 1999, no. 365)