An Interview with the Author of Journey of an Aching Heart 2
Tell us about your new book, Journey of an Aching Heart 2.
When I finally arrived in Belgrade, I had been traveling on foot for months. Writing down my experiences was a significant part of that time period. I would walk for a few days and then sit down to write next to a church, on a mountainside, on a sidewalk, or just wherever I happened to be at that moment. In Belgrade, that changed. I stopped writing about my journey and simply focused on the Jesus Prayer. Journey of an Aching Heart 2 was written from memory six years after my pilgrimage. There were so many wonderful occurrences during and after my time in Belgrade that were not included in Journey of an Aching Heart, so the new book came about from wanting to share these experiences and finish the entire story of the pilgrimage. It was not difficult to remember the details because my memories unfolded like a movie before my mind’s eye and soon I was back there again in the beauty, the pain, the prayer, and the mystery. The book covers my journey through Belgrade, Bosnia or Republika Srpska, Italy, and Greece.
Italy is not an Orthodox country, why did you want to include Italy in your pilgrimage?
There is a rich Orthodox history in Italy before 1054. Countless Orthodox Saints lived in Italy and many were martyred there. Personally, I wanted to be near the Colosseum where so many Orthodox Christians suffered. It was important to me to pray there with my komboskini.
What was it like returning to the home of the priest in Medjedja?
Walking on the road was tough. I was constantly pouring sweat, exposed to the wind, rain, and sun, and only sometimes did I have a decent amount of food and water. Even when I did have food, many times it was simply bread-- bread that was either softened by the rain or hardened by the sun. A smelly stranger with a beard does not always earn people’s immediate respect, and although there was much hidden physical suffering, another element that increased my pain was mistrust and mistreatment. Overall, the people whom I met on the pilgrimage were great, especially if they spoke a little English which would allow us to get to know one another. Even so, there were moments, most of which I have chosen not to write about, that were, let’s say, difficult. The road can be lonely, and walking 30 kilometers on a full stomach is quite different from walking the same distance with an empty stomach. The spiritual warfare was relentless. Constant prayer created a feeling that I was somehow removed from time. Did a minute just pass or an hour? I never knew the hour, the day, or even the month. I journeyed from village to village and city to city in a state of existence outside of everything that I have ever known. I did not have a cell phone, so there was no comfort of immediate communication. I did not have others around who could rejoice and suffer with me. It was me and Christ. Honestly, I loved it. The reason why I am saying all this is because when I walked through the door of the priest’s house, I felt the immense peace of being loved, trusted, understood, supported, well-fed, relied on, and prayed for. It was a different and much welcomed reality in comparison to life on the road. The entire family cared about me and showed me a type of hospitality that made me feel as if I were more of a family member than a guest. This particular kindness, I believe, is rare in general, but it was such an incredible blessing considering the trials of my journey. I basically made one big circle after entering Serbia, and after I walked through Fruska Gora and Belgrade, I made my way back to Northern Bosnia to be with them again. I am so glad that I did.
Why did you choose the title Journey of an Aching Heart?
Throughout my pilgrimage there was a considerable amount activity in my heart that I could never understand. Sometimes it would burn like fire and other times so much pain would emanate from it that I had to stop walking and be still for a while. I tried to explain this to a priest on Mount Athos, and he gave me his thoughts, which were positive. Regardless, it was a constant mystery. Normally there is a process to dealing with pain: Where am I hurting? Why am I hurting? What can I do to remove the pain? How can I heal long-term? Because what was taking place in my heart was a mystery, there could be no healing process. I simply observed what was happening and continued to say the Jesus Prayer. This was an every-day occurrence and I just learned to accept it. After I witnessed catholic priests being allowed to participate in the Divine Liturgy at the tomb of Saint Nicholas in Bari, Italy, the pain in my heart almost became unbearable. It was also like this when I witnessed a monk in Greece say that he did not believe the prophecies and warnings of Saint Paisios the Athonite. It was as if my heart was being stabbed with a spear and crushed under a rock at the same time.
What more can you say about these two experiences?
The Orthodox Church seems to be fighting an enormous battle against the subversive elements of ecumenism and the rejection of the prophecies made by our Saints, holy elders, and holy eldresses. What happened in Bari appeared to be the fulfillment of an unfortunate latent expectation. Saint Paisios said that a union with the roman catholics would never be accepted by the Orthodox Faithful. He said that you cannot mix gold with copper. I once witnessed a very kind and generous catholic woman allowed to play a significant role in the life of an Orthodox Church. She was married to an Orthodox Christian, but she never converted. She was allowed to put up pictures of the catholic pope in the children’s room used for Greek School. She also hung up pictures of catholic saints that are not recognized by the Orthodox Church. When the Archbishop came to town, he spoke about the differences between Orthodoxy and catholicism. Afterwards, I heard her say in a tone of disagreement,
“He is not preaching Unity!”
Because she was normally so nice and allowed to play an active role in the Orthodox church, yet was not Orthodox, one could imagine the effect this had on fellow parishioners. The Archbishop did not come to the church often and his influence was somewhat distant, but she was in a position to sway people away from the Archbishop’s words because she was so well-known and appreciated.
“There it is,” I thought, “that’s the crack, the fissure, this right here is where the split is occurring. It is occurring on the ground in the middle of everyday life and it is almost unrecognizable. Ecumenism is the almost imperceptible threat which is slowing influencing people to think differently about their Orthodox Faith and the teachings of the Church Fathers.”
The Archbishop’s words were, in fact, in line with the teachings of the Orthodox Church. What happened in Bari was just heart-crushing. Anyone who stands behind the altar during Divine Liturgy must have a blessing from an Orthodox priest. It is an important and serious role. To allow people who are not Orthodox behind the altar during Divine Liturgy is unthinkable, yet it happened. It is especially painful considering the fact that Saint Nicholas confronted the heretic Arius in order to defend the proper teachings of the Orthodox Church and this unacceptable occurrence happened at his tomb during the Liturgy. Later, I spoke with a holy Orthodox elder and explained what happened in Bari at the Tomb of Saint Nicholas.
“What was I supposed to do,” I asked him.
He looked at me and said, “Say catholics upstairs.”
This was profound and shocking to me because I had not told him that that was exactly what I said. When I was on Mount Athos, I sat with the Geronda at Saint Anne’s Skete and we spoke about spiritual matters. I asked him to tell me what he thought about the prophecies of Saint Paisios. He told me,
“Everything that Saint Paisios said is true and it will all come to pass. We do not know exactly when it will happen, but it will all come to pass.”
So, when the other monk rejected the words of Saint Paisios, I remembered what this Geronda told me. Without a doubt, I will choose to believe the words of the Geronda of Saint Anne’s over a monk whose metropolitan wrote a book with scientists in order to debunk the words of Saint Paisios.
What was one of your most memorable experiences?
I was in Thessaloniki. It was freezing. I was tired. The Orthodox church of Ypapanti was closing and I had nowhere to go. A woman came into the church to light a candle on her way home from work. She was told that I was an Orthodox Christian on a pilgrimage and that I did not have a place to stay. She looked at me and in a split second, told me that I could stay at her sister’s empty apartment. She took care of me like as a loving mother would-- cooking me meals and taking me to church. In that split second where fear and uncertainty could have determined her choice, she chose the Christ-like love of a stranger. I was the broken and beaten man on the side of the road, and she was the good Samaritan who refused to leave me there. That split second has truly changed my life forever.
What do you hope for the readers of Journey of an Aching Heart 2?
Fearlessness. Faith in Christ. And mercy for the wounded. I believe the prophecies about the near future and World War III from Saints like Saint Paisios and Elder Ephraim of Arizona. I believe that there will be a period of suffering and hunger. When this time comes, I hope that they will remember that God will always be with them, helping them and strengthening them, that they will not be alone. Glory to God in all things!
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