The Former Metropolitan of Florina, Chrysostomos, as a man

Dionysios M. Batistatos

 

It is very difficult for one to forget a figure like that of Metropolitan Chrysostomos. He has imposed himself upon the souls of those who knew him and has left an indelible mark of his personality upon them.

But where lies the foundation of this power, and what is the source of this man’s brilliant radiance? His education was multifaceted and distinguished by its depth. Those who were fortunate enough to hear his sermons or study his works can attest that Metropolitan Chrysostomos had succeeded in uniting into an organic whole the depth of thought, the loftiness of concepts, the grace of speech, and the simplicity of expression. For Chrysostomos, education was not merely a collection of greater or lesser knowledge, arranged like books in a rich library. Rather, it was the spiritual framework of a life disciplined by the hierarchy of values, drawing its vital essence from the inexhaustible and unfathomable depths of the intellect—an intellect, however, illuminated by the unfading majesty of Christianity!

And for this very reason, from the overall demeanor of the ever-memorable Elder, that affected elegance of the "educated" was absent, which makes them repulsive due to their petty pedantries and dreadful due to their arrogance stemming from "education."

The unforgettable Bishop had transmuted all his vast and multifaceted education into a unique and ideal humanity.

And this precisely constitutes the distinctive seal of his personality. Metropolitan Chrysostomos was a man, "in the image and likeness" of the most perfect model.

A man! How difficult it is to be a man! The departed granted society this possibility and alleviated a vast circle with his noble humanity.

But let us examine some details of that sublime humanity, some aspects of that holy soul, as many as his profound humility allowed us to admire.

Simplicity! Whether he was serving the Divine Liturgy, speaking, or engaging in conversation, he was distinguished by the crown of humanistic virtues—simplicity. I remember him on his quaint little couch in his home in Kypseli, wearing his monastic cap. Merely seeing that holy Elder filled my soul with spiritual satisfaction. He would listen to you—indeed, he would listen with attention, with interest. And he did this not out of "condescension" toward your spiritual poverty, but out of humanitarian understanding, out of sincere respect for man, for any man!

He did not try to sway you to his opinion because he did not consider you inferior to him. He spoke to you with that majestic democratic simplicity that springs from true spiritual aristocracy and left you free to take your own stance.

I remember that one Pascha, I had intended to go to Mount Athos to celebrate there. So, one day during Palm Sunday, the holy and youthful in spiritual strength Elder called me to his office, and the following dialogue, approximately, took place between us.

- I have heard that you intend to go to Mount Athos!

- Indeed.

- Will you allow me to share my opinion with you, and then you may decide as you see fit?

- I would be glad to hear it, Your Eminence.

- Pascha is a feast of family joy. Your wife did not marry you merely to secure her livelihood and the benefits of your work; she has the moral and just expectation to share with you the holy days of Christian feasts. This, above all, constitutes the bond of marriage.

Do not rely on her consent to wrong a noble woman, and do not accumulate clouds in the sky of your family life. Besides this, you also have an obligation toward the congregations, who during these days expect a sermon from the laborers of the Church.

Let us not seek what pleases us, but rather what is required.

- Your Eminence, I am willing to carry out your command.

- I beg you, I do not give commands; I simply express my opinion, and you are free to decide.

We have presented this dialogue to highlight his greatness as a person. He was not a "despot" with "demands" and "expectations"; for this reason, he did not attempt to impose upon others—yet, strangely, he persuaded them!

Despite his educational and moral superiority, he did not live that sinful experience of distancing himself from other mortals. In other words, he did not consider himself superior to anyone, neither in knowledge nor in morality. And although he was a pure and undefiled nature, he was not marked by the weakness of such natures—egoism. Why? Because he was a man!

He never wished to comment on grammatical, syntactical, or expressive errors of his subordinates, nor to satirize their shortcomings with biting remarks. Whenever he noticed mistakes, if they did not alter the meaning of the text, he would leave them be so as not to offend his collaborator. If, however, they did change the meaning, he would strive to guide the person toward discovering the error themselves, so that it would not appear as though he were correcting them.

He submitted various documents and works of his to the judgment of others, even those less educated and knowledgeable than himself, not out of a vain display of humility, but out of a sincere appreciation for the judgment of his fellow men.

He never spoke unfavorably about anyone for any shortcoming.

This inner humanitarian disposition was reflected in his face with the sweetest affability. A pure smile blossomed on his lips, and his overall countenance inspired respect without instilling fear. Poor, because he always stood above material wealth, he did not refuse to provide material relief to those in need.

He respected the conscience of his fellow men; for this reason, he remained vigilant even over the smallest details of his life, so as not to cause scandal to even the least among them.

Once, he traveled to Aegina, to a small monastery. In the room that was given to him for rest, there was an extra bed and a pair of slippers. He requested that these items be removed from the room. Why? Because he was a man, and he respected the conscience of his fellow men.

Those who were in any way connected with him should be considered fortunate. And this boast is undoubtedly the noblest title of honor for their lives.

And this is because the holy former Metropolitan of Florina was not only the virtuous Hierarch, the profoundly wise intellectual, the most eloquent orator, the pure saint, the indomitable fighter; but above all, he was a man. And such men are phenomena that escape the principle of frequency. Such a phenomenon of a man was he who survives in our souls as an idea and a symbol, soaring among us as an immortal and blessed soul—the ever-memorable President of the Church of the G.O.C., Chrysostomos.

Who knows when humanity will encounter such a phenomenon again!

The lament of the paralytic is also the lament of society: "Lord, I have no man."

And this lament will now emerge even heavier from the hearts of those who knew him, for the loss of "the man" makes the reality of the absence of true men even harsher!

 

Source: Η Φωνή της Ορθοδοξίας [The Voice of Orthodoxy], September 12, 1955.

Online: https://metemorfothis.blogspot.com/2019/09/blog-post_61.html