Conversations with the priest Father Andrew

After a pleasantly cool night at Klostersee, we get up at 7:30 am. At eight o’clock we are already sitting at a lavishly laid table. We enjoy sweet rice pudding, fresh home-baked white bread, three fried eggs for everyone, sun-ripened tomatoes, sheep’s cheese and delicious tea made from flowers collected in the forest. Just the thing for cyclists. Then we are invited to a church service. Although we are not churchgoers, we are very interested in how the Orthodox Church pays homage to God. A nun leads us into the church, which is currently under construction. A woman is plastering the entrance at this point. A few helpers, young people and workers scurry around and go about their tasks. Sister Domnina, who translates everything for us with her perfect command of English, tells us that it is only now during the vacations that there is so much activity. Young people come to spend their vacations here. They actively support the master builder named Atoll, who incidentally is Father Andrew’s brother, in building the church or helping on the monastery grounds. There is endless work. Financing the church is a huge challenge. Father Andrew is often on the road to organize donations for the monastery. “Only with God’s help is this possible. Atoll has been building the church for three years. He usually only has two other helpers,” explains Sister Domnina. We are amazed because the large building with its three bronze domes looks impressive even when unplastered. “Come in. Find a seat,” a nun invites us into the church. The service is already in full swing. We stand at the end of the room. It is the basement of the church. Upstairs, in the main building, construction is still underway. Cool, incense-scented air wafts through the house of prayer. Nuns sing in a side wing. Their voices are as bright as bells and are instantly enchanting. Rarely have I heard such a peaceful, loving song. The atmosphere is sacred in the truest sense of the word. It instantly brings tears to my eyes. I am deeply touched. Believers kneel on the floor and listen to the magnificently dressed priest. He appears even more dignified in his robes. His eyes shine and his face looks peaceful. The rituals of the service seem highly complicated to me as an uninformed observer. Again and again, the servant of God disappears behind a wooden wall decorated with ornaments. The singing changes. Once the priest takes over and then the nuns take over again. A perfect and ingenious interplay. Then Father Andrew strides forward again. Speaks and sings. The strong in faith sink to their knees. Others drop even further forward from their knees to support their upper body on the floor with their forearms. All of a sudden, everyone stands in front of the pedestal with a golden book, obviously the Bible. The godly bow down and kiss it. They are then blessed by the priest. With consecrated water, he paints a cross on the forehead of each individual, including us, because we have joined the ranks of the people. Then everyone is given the blood and body of Christ. A large piece of white bread soaked in red wine. At other times we can observe that the believers go forward. The priest takes off his magnificent robe piece by piece. The faithful bow down and Father Andrew places his robe over them. This is intended to take away the fear and give confidence to people who feel great fear or have other serious problems in life. The priest recites sacred texts and drapes another part of his captivatingly beautiful costume over the visitors to the church. We stand there attentively and observe this ritual. A rite that gives believers strength for their often difficult everyday lives. The nuns are still singing with their crystal-clear voices.

The service lasts at least three hours. The entire time is spent standing. Only sick people are allowed to sit. Some women weep, others look devoutly. People cross themselves incessantly. Which is probably because of what the servant of God is preaching right now. I would love to understand the language, I would love to know what is being spoken. Once again, the priest appears behind the wooden wall decorated with ornaments. He swings incense back and forth in a bronze-colored censer hanging from a chain. The little bells on it ring in time with the swinging. My eyes can hardly get enough of the colorful, lush house of prayer. The still unplastered walls are decorated with holy Orthodox pictures. Everything is covered with Moldavian carpeting. Behind us is a gift table on which visitors place gifts for the monastery. It is not much that the poor people have to give. Bread, a handful of eggs, a home-baked yeast plait, a bottle of sunflower oil, sweets, etc. There are candles in the bread everywhere. One table, we were told, is for praying for the deceased and the other for asking God’s blessing for oneself and one’s family. Some nuns take care to remove the burnt-out candles from the stands and candlesticks. Believers immediately put new ones in and light them. After 1 ½ hours we leave the church. It’s exhausting for us to stand for so long. Even many a pious visitor goes out for a breath of fresh air in between to listen to the rest of the sermon a little later. On Sunday, the public holiday, all visitors to the monastery are invited to a free and, as already mentioned, very tasty lunch. There are often over 200 hungry guests. So even the poorest get something to eat. We can especially see children with big, expectant eyes. They happily fill their bellies and leave the dining room laughing.

Who can eat cream slices in the long term? We sit down on a bench in front of the restaurant and have a lively chat with Sister Domnina. She is a very likeable, extremely courteous and friendly 28-year-old young woman. We are discussing the philosophical question of the ups and downs of life when Father Andrew joins us. We shake hands, with the right hand squeezing the other’s and the left on top. A very intimate, loving handshake. Then we kiss each other on the left, right and left again on the cheek. Father Andrew beams at us. Really no problem liking this man, I think to myself. I continue my explanation about the ups and downs and say, “Life is like a pulse. It has ups and downs. It goes up and down. Boom, boom, boom, goes the heart, contracts, expands to pump fresh blood back into the veins of the body. Every one of us humans has a mountain to climb, by which I perhaps mean a big challenge, like an apprenticeship. Then, when we have made it and are at the top, we can enjoy a fantastic panoramic view over other mountains and valleys. Unfortunately, we can’t stay up there forever. We have to go down again, we need something to eat and drink. Perhaps going down can also be compared to breaking a leg or something else that doesn’t go the way you want or planned. At that moment, it’s good to know that things will go up again. That the next high has to come. That’s like math for me. It’s a fact, just like one and one makes two. If we take that on board, the valleys are easier to bear. And apart from that, who can eat cream slices incessantly for years on end? There will definitely come a time when a simple slice of bread tastes like Jell-O,” I continue my thoughts. Sister Domnina immediately translates my story. Father Andrew laughs at me and invites us to follow him into his private rooms.

We enter a simple room about ten square meters in size. A closet with Orthodox saints and many books rests opposite the entrance. Two armchairs and a sofa are located on the other two walls. Tanja and I are allowed to sit on the sofa while father Andrew and sister Domnina take a seat on the armchairs. As soon as we have made ourselves comfortable, we continue our conversation. We learn more about Father Andrew’s life, about the founding of the monastery and the enormous challenges of financing it, but also about the very positive progress so far. “They didn’t want a monastery to be built here. We had many enemies. A restaurant was actually supposed to be built on the road to Transnistria. That was the interest of some business people. Nobody believed that we would manage to build such a beautiful place of peace out of nothing. Nevertheless, with love and God’s help, we did it. Today, our former enemies come here to pray. They have become friends of the monastery,” he ends the brief explanation.

“Tanja and I believe we are sensing a global change. We believe that more and more people are reflecting on their lives and the earthly and economic connections. More and more people are reading spiritual books and have a desire for clean food and a clean environment. Many are also prepared to do something about it. I think this is due to the fact that we have constant food scandals that are finally waking up the population. Global warming can also no longer be denied. People are coming together to found aid organizations. Doctors who go to structurally weak countries to help. Organizing fundraising campaigns, planting trees, protecting animals, etc. There’s no doubt that there’s a lot more going on than before and I think humanity has a chance of ironing out its past sins and surviving,” I say. As Sister Domnina translates, a few tears roll down the priest’s cheeks. “He is emotionally moved,” Domnina also translates this emotion of the priest.

Then we talk about wealth, happiness and unhappiness. About the fact that many wealthy people are unhappy despite their money. That they always have to have more and believe that this will finally bring them satisfaction and happiness. “A vicious spiral that often makes people ill,” I reply.

Father Andrew’s story about happiness, love and friendship “Father Andrew would like to tell you a story about this,” says Sister Domnina. “Gladly,” we reply and listen. “Once upon a time there was a rich sheikh. He had so much money that he could buy anything he wanted. No wish was denied him. He had many wives. One prettier than the other. He owned many palaces. One more beautiful and larger than the other. He ate only the best food and won every war with his armies. One day, he confessed to his most loyal servant how unhappy he felt. “Why are you unhappy sheikh? You have more money than anyone else. You are warmed by the most beautiful women in the country. You feast on the finest food. You own so many palaces that it takes you a year to pay a short visit to each one. You win all wars and your treasure chests are filled with golden jewelry studded with the rarest gemstones. My lord? Why are you unhappy? You have no reason to be.” “I don’t know either. I have never felt happiness in my life. I don’t know any happiness. Love is completely unknown to me. I am a very unhappy man,” said the ruler, completely crestfallen. The servant thought for a while about how he could help his master. Then he said aloud, “I know a holy man. He can help you. He lives in a desert. We should visit him, but we have to walk a long way to reach his house.” “Well, let’s go and visit the holy man. Arrange for my three best camels to be loaded. We’ll set off first thing tomorrow,” the sheikh ordered his servant.

The sheikh and his servant left the palace before sunrise. They rode south, right into the great desert. They had already been on the road for two weeks when their water supplies ran out. The faithful servant even gave his own water to his master. When the servant’s thirst became so great that he could hardly walk, the sheikh ordered his servant to kill a camel. The servant carried out the order and drank the animal’s blood. However, just a few days later he also had to slit the throat of the second animal in order to drink its blood. The sheikh still satisfied his thirst with his subject’s water. His own rations had long since been used up. When they had to kill the third camel, the servant was no longer able to walk. He was dying. The sheikh knelt beside his loyal subject. He thought to himself that he would not leave the desert alive without him. “Only with the servant’s help do I have a chance of getting out of here,” he whispered. He looked at the old man’s face. Suddenly he remembered what it was like when he was still a child. In his memory, he saw his faithful servant as a strong young man who soon looked after him every minute. He remembered that the servant was his teacher, educator and advisor. What was he supposed to do without this man? “He is not only my servant but also my friend,” he whispered, surprised that he was only now realizing this. Suddenly he felt guilty because he had never once thanked his friend for the love and sacrifice he had shown him. Not even once! And now he lay before him and died. He cried bitterly. He tussled his hair and asked God to let him die in his friend’s place. He took his last bottle of water and put it to his friend’s lips. He wiped his eyes and face and prayed that he would only be allowed to look into his always kind and loving eyes one more time. He emptied the entire contents of his bottle into the old man’s mouth until he suddenly began to swallow and opened his eyes. The sheikh couldn’t believe what he saw at first. When he realized, he began to laugh. Laughed louder and louder, jumped up and danced with happiness. He threw himself back onto the sand to hug and squeeze his servant. Tears of happiness ran down his cheeks and he knew that this was the most beautiful, joyful and happiest moment of his life. “What’s wrong with you? Why do I see you so happy?” asked the servant. “Because you’re alive. Because I can now thank you for all these years. Thank you for your lifelong sacrifice. Thank you for being alive and allowing me to look into your loving, warm-hearted eyes once again,” said the sheikh. Suddenly, clouds rolled in. The gates of heaven opened and it rained for many hours. It rained so much that they had enough water to continue their journey. “I don’t want to travel any more. I don’t need to see the holy man. Let’s go back, because I’ve found what I’ve been longing for all my life,” said the sheikh and they went home. Once in his palace, he immediately began to distribute his wealth among the poor. He had recognized. There is more happiness and fulfillment in giving than in receiving.”

After a minute of silence, I wipe a few tears from my eyes. “A very nice story,” I whisper. Father Andrew nods. “Yes, she is representative of many people today,” answers Father Andrew.

It is already late afternoon when we leave Father Andrew’s room. We are immediately led into the dining room by Sister Domnina. The nuns have kept the food warm for us and immediately start to set the table for us. There is vegetable soup, sheep’s cheese, tomatoes, delicious sweet pastries, honeydew melons, a carafe full of wine and a carafe full of cherry juice. Again we eat until our stomachs are full. Then we go to the monastery lake to enjoy the peace and shade under the large, dignified oak trees. We move into our rooms in the evening. It’s 1:30 a.m. as I toss and turn, still drenched in sweat. I grab my flashlight and sneak back to the lake through the pitch-black monastery grounds. The many oak trees and the water make it really fresh here. A few crickets chirp. Every now and then a fish darts out of the water and there is a rustle in the nearby bushes. If I wasn’t on the monastery grounds, you could be a bit scared. It doesn’t take long and I fall into a deep, blissful sleep.

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