New Confessor Sofian Boghiu: Wisdom from the Communist Prisons

This is wisdom: to know how to weigh every word, and every thought, to be a master of yourself, to always be able to control what you say and what you think; to be wise, quiet, measured in your speech

I have been in a monastery from a young age. More than anything else, I know that I must keep the commandments of God. Fulfilling His commandments, we will find Christ. This is what it says in the Philokalia: “Christ is hidden in His commandments” [St. Mark the Ascetic]. I sought to do this, but I cannot say I entirely succeeded. There is a Golden Rule in the Gospels: what you want others to do to you, do to them. Each person is happy when others trust him, when he is spoken of well, when others treat him fairly. I also tried to respect these Gospel commandments in relation to my neighbours. That which I did not like others to do to me, I tried to not do to others as well. I remember, for example, when I was an apprentice in painting, they did not pay me fairly - almost nothing. And I did not like it, but I never told them that I deserved more. However, when it came for me to distribute these wages, I paid the students as much as myself, and even more than that, so that they would not experience the same heart-rending that I did, because they did not act very humanely with me. 

A person must be honest with himself, and honest with others. He should think of God’s Judgement, when he will have to give an account for every word and every deed. But this somehow became the norm for my life. That is, I don’t take time to think beforehand: “now I will act politely,” but I act normally. 

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Q: Father, if I have guests over and I’m tired, do I close my door on them?

How can you close your door? Look, more than 40 people came to me this evening [for confession], each with his own troubles, and I could not think about myself. They had time, but I really did not have time. And I endured in this way: I responded to all of their problems, I handled each one in this way. One kept me for almost two hours, and I was in over my head. But I know that people today need this spiritual unburdening - at least for someone to listen to them. You see that I often hear confessions until late at night, and people here judge me: “what is this priest doing that he never finishes?” But this is what I do - I listen. And from time to time I also say something; because today there is great suffering in the world, and people in fact are very lonely. And to close my door is something demonic; it is the sign of a monstrous egotism. Father Paisius [Prelipceanu - a former spiritual father at Antim Monastery] had such love that no one entered his home without being served. There were no books on his table, as there are here in my cell. In his room there was onion, cheese, bread, and maybe a glass of wine. And when someone entered his cell, he would first ask him: “have you eaten?” And he would make him eat. And the poor people did not forget him. Hundreds of commemoration lists begin with him: “Father Paisius, Father Paisius.” 

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A spiritual child of Fr. Sofian was preoccupied with the issue of sincerity. “Father,” he asked him, “how far does sincerity towards my neighbour go?”

Father Sofian responded: “Look how this problem of sincerity is: for a spiritual work, we need honesty, we need sincerity. Look at how this problem of sincerity is: 

You must be very sincere with yourself and God in the first place. Yet with others, you must act according to the instruction in the Gospel: “wise as serpents and harmless as doves” (Matt. 10:16). The serpent’s wisdom means prudence - to be very prudent with the person you are talking to; to be attentive to the point of nuances; to feel his pulse from the start; to understand when it is the case to talk about yourself. If you feel that you cannot be sincere with him to the end, be silent. To lie, however, do not lie to him; because when lying intervenes, the devil also intervenes. Do not appeal to lying in any way. Be silent. You are not obligated to tell the other everything, but you are obligated to not lie. This is wisdom: to know how to weigh every word, and every thought, to be a master of yourself, to always be able to control what you say and what you think; to be wise, quiet, measured in your speech; to immediately feel the other’s pulse, because you cannot tell everyone everything. This was a big problem in prison. When they interrogated us, we would say: “yes, I know him.” They could not get anything else out of us. We did not say anything about what he did, because if we were totally sincere with them, with those interrogating us, then others would be taken to prison, and we did everything within our power to not cause this misfortune. Thus, keep this in mind: learn to speak to each person in his language. Lying - in no way. Prudence - to the point of nuance. 

“But what does it mean to be sincere with yourself?” the spiritual son asked Fr. Sofian. 

Do you know what “sincere” means? Sin cera, that is, without wax. There used to be silver plaques which people engraved. And if they were somehow mixed with wax, nothing could be engraved on or read from them. They had to be sin cera, that is, pure, without wax, pure silver. This is what sincere means: without a shade of evil. To be honest with yourself means to measure yourself to see how faithful you are or how superficial you are before God; how much you know, and how much you do not know about what you should know; how much you do from what you know; when someone praises you, to ask yourself how much of this praise is correct in relation to the reality within you. Because you hold yourself in your hand and know exactly how you are. How honest are you before God? Are you not false, superficial towards God? For example, you gave alms. Did you not give it for others to see, or did you not regret it? Are you aware that all that you have is from God, or do you attribute merit to yourself? 

This is what it means to be sincere with yourself: to be sincere with God, to know exactly how correct you are before God; to discover yourself as you in fact are. An elder said: “I said something to him with my lips, but in my heart I judged him.” God hears the words in your heart. He is very present in our life, in our heart, in our reins. This is what it means: to truly feel in your heart how you stand in relation to God. Do not forget this: just as our relationships with others are, so too is our relationship with God. Do not forget that you live under the new law, and not under the law of the Old Testament. If you have an enemy, you do not heal him with vengeance, or condemnation, but with humility and love. There was a priest named Veniamin, a kind of peasant, very cultivated and full of advice. And once he was interned in a hospital and put in a shared room. And in his room there was someone else that was sick who could not bear him. Whenever Father approached him, that one spat in his face. He told him that he hated him, and many other such things. And that one could not get out of bed - he was bedridden. And without asking, Father Veniamin helped him with anything he needed. He took his chamber pot to the toilet - that one was immobile, he was bedridden - he put water by his side, he cleaned for him, he washed his clothes. He kept silent and did. He did not dwell on the other one hating him, or spitting on him - and he also cursed him. And when Father Veniamin became well and left the hospital, that one cried: “Father forgive me! You defeated me. Know that you compelled me to have a good opinion of you, and now I cherish you very much.”

That is, I would like to tell you that this discrete, humble, silent attention to the one who wrongs you counts very much. And if someone humiliates you, instead of getting angry, think: “Am I not guilty of anything before God and others? How many times did I not harm others? How many times did I not desire evil for others, or I even blasphemed? Tuly, I deserve to be both rebuked and humiliated.” 

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I do not know what awaits you in life, or what trials God will lead you through, but keep this in mind as a rule: just as you want others to make your life joyful, so too should you make others’ lives joyful. When I was in Jilava, there was a doctor with us in the cell, and he was always mending others’ socks. He had made a needle out of a nail and thread from ragged socks, and he would repair all that could be repaired. And I asked him: “Why are you doing this?” And he responded to me: “I feel the need to bring joy to everyone - joy from myself. I have felt this all my life, for as long as I have known myself, from childhood. And now I cannot do otherwise.” And I rejoiced over him so much; I’m telling you the truth. This was the goal of his life: to bring as much joy as possible to others; even there, where evil was so well organized and you were not allowed to do anything good. If you did something good, you were immediately taken to the “black cell,” with water on the floor, frozen concrete, and terrible cold. And in this horrible place, he wanted to bring joy to others with everything that was within him. Do the same: things which make you happy, do to others, transfer them to others. And you will see how everything is transformed.