Paisii Discovers Power

"At the caves of the Kiev Lavra" by Igor Mashkov

This story comes from warring medieval kingdoms and features a fantastical elder with a staff. No, it's not Gandalf - but Moisey the Hungarian is worth knowing!

1042, Kiev Caves Lavra

Paisii, a young monk, made his way through the narrow tunnel of the cave. The light of his candle flickered on the rounded walls. In order to avoid hitting his head, he had to bend down in places, as he was a tall youth.

The passage was a part of a labyrinth of underground hallways, each dotted with small hand-carved cells for monks and niches for burning candles.

Paisii stopped at a low arched doorway. He would have to stoop to fit through it.

He paused, one hand resting on the sandstone wall. Although he had not been hurrying, his heart thudded within his chest. He could hear the soft chant of the psalms within. The scent of beeswax and incense floated through the tunnel and calmed him. 

He heard a scuff of sandal and turned around.

An elderly monk - Paisii didn’t know his name - hobbled towards him in long, shabby black robes. Paisii lifted his candle and flattened himself against the stone wall to let the monk pass. As soon as he got around Paisii, he stopped. Reaching into his satchel, he pulled out a jug of water and set it on the ground, just inside the doorway. The monk nodded a smile in his direction and hobbled his way down the passage.

Paisii took a deep breath, knowing he must get this over with, and called into the cell, "Kristos posredi nas!" (Christ is with us!)

“He is and will be!” a clear voice returned from within.

Paisii lowered his upper body and stooped through the entry. The cell was much like his own: just wide enough to lay down and deep enough for two people. In a tiny shelf carved into the wall, an icon and a candle rested behind a long-stemmed white flower laying on its side.

Next to it, a great elder stood, stooped over from injuries, but solid and commanding nevertheless. He held a giant staff to help him stand. His long beard waved downward in a mix of colors, the brown of fall leaves and the grey of ashes. His eyes were firm, but gentle, and they gave the young monk the courage to speak.

Paisii spit out the words he had practiced. “Help me, Elder Moisey. I burn. I burn day and night with sin. Every time I see a woman, I want her. The desire is burning me up and I can’t make it go away.” He felt his chest pounding again.

Elder Moisey looked at him hard. “Will you do what I tell you to do?”

Paisii’s voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I will do it.” He knew he had no other choice, not if he wanted to see God. The burning got in the way. He couldn’t escape its darkness. 

He swallowed, in an effort to moisten his throat enough to get the words out. “I promise to keep unto death everything you tell me to do.”

“As long as you live, do not speak a word to any woman.”

Elder Moisey took his staff and struck Paisii on the chest.

Paisii blinked and flinched and was about to yell, but then he froze. The stabbing pain he had carried with him into the tunnel was gone. The burning was gone. All of the temptation had vanished. Only peace and calm remained in his body.

The elder picked up the jug of water and handed it to the youth. As Paisii drank, Elder Moisey spoke towards the door. “Walk him back out, will you? He may be a bit stunned.”

Paisii followed Elder Moisey’s gaze and saw the old monk from before. The brother was so short, he barely had to bend his head in the doorway. Paisii doubted he needed this man’s help getting back out.

The commanding voice was talking to him once again.

“Young man, keep your promise. God will help you.”

Paisii bowed his head, kissed the hand of the elder, and started back down the tunnel.

***

The sandstone scraped the top of his head, and Paisii ducked to avoid further pain. He must have felt so free he was forgetting to watch the low ceiling. Thinking about it, he decided maybe he did need an escort.

Ahead of him, the older monk shuffled quietly, holding a candle to light the way. The old man’s shoulders bounced a little. It was almost as if he was… chuckling?

“Watch your head back there.”

Strange accent, Paisii thought. Frowning, he noted the amusement in the brother’s voice. “Are you laughing at me?”

How could this man be amused at a time like this? Paissi had just been healed of a burning inner fire that he had dreaded would consume him. This was life altering and serious! 

The monk answered, “At you? A little. But also at me. At memories of me as a teenager, in need of a good thwack myself.”

Paisii frowned and looked at the ground. He wasn’t sure why, but it seemed like this foreign monk was stealing some of the power of the miracle he had just received. They should be in awe. Not chuckling.

The narrow passage twisted up and to the right, becoming brighter. Paisii blew out his own candle. They were almost to the entrance of the cave. He could hear the brick-masons calling to each other from where they were building a stockade around the monastery grounds.

Paisii squinted into the daylight as he emerged onto the side of the hill.

His escort commented, “Gets me every time, even after so many years. The light.” He picked up a walking stick he had left by the entrance and turned to Paisii. “I’m Brother Antoni. Elder Moisey asked me to follow you into the cave today.”

Paisii’s mind tripped over the statement. How had Elder Moisey known he was coming?

The old monk continued, “In case you needed help back out.”

Paisii stared. 

“I came here with him nine years ago. I was the stable hand… back in the Kingdom of Poland."

Ah, thought Paisii, so that’s what the accent was. But why was he here now?

The bells from the church on the top of the hill rang above them in a familiar pattern. Paisii looked at the lowering position of the sun. “Almost time for the 3rd Hour.” He hoped to use the prayer service as an excuse to escape this irregular monk and enjoy his miracle in private.

Brother Antoni looked up the hill. “Shall we walk up together?”

Paisii sighed. Of course this monk would also be walking up to Church. Where else would he go? Paisii gestured, palm upward. “Lead the way.”

“Good answer, young one.” Brother Antoni had that irritating grin in his voice again, but before Paisii could get properly angry, the old monk sat down on a stone bench, looking up at him with earnest eyes. “It truly is amazing, what Elder Moisey did for you.”

Gone was the chuckle; gone was the amusement. Finally, Paisii felt, this man was properly appreciating what had happened.

“I. I didn’t expect it to happen like that. So quickly. I didn’t expect that sort of power.”

Brother Antoni raised his eyebrows. “You needed that sort of power, I take it.”

“I did.” Paissi lowered his eyes. “I did. But how could he heal me in one moment? Like a flash of lightning? At the crack of his staff?”

“Took me by surprise too,” Brother Antoni admitted. “Not the healing, but the unique application of Elder Moisey’s staff. I will never forget how big your eyes grew.” He pinched his lips together, as if holding something in, but then his face grew serious again. “It may have seemed like the power of thunder in one booming moment. But Elder Moisey spent six painful years building that power.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I met him, we were both slaves. We were from the kingdom of Hungary, taken prisoner after a battle. I was an overlooked stable boy, but Moisey was tall, muscular, handsome by worldly standards. 

"A rich young Polish widow became captivated by him and wanted to marry him, but he refused. He wanted to live only for Christ. A priest monk from Mt. Athos had traveled through and secretly given him monastic orders.”

“Well then, he wasn’t going to marry the widow.” Paisii was growing more curious.

“No. And she tried everything. She dressed him in fine clothes and put him atop a horse and rode him around her lands, reminding him he could be lord of them all. She tried starving him in a dungeon. She tried forcing her way with him. Whatever she tried, he told her he would not deny his heavenly riches for earthly dust.”

Paisii considered his own struggle and looked back towards the mouth of the cave. Now he understood why his abbot had told him to go to elder Moisey for help.

Brother Antoni continued, “After that, she got permission from the evil Polish king Boleslav to have the virgin Moisey beat with one hundred blows every day, so that he would bleed to death.”

Paisii considered the staff that the elder had leaned on to help him stand. “But he lived.”

“For almost a whole year. The king was evil and the kingdom revolted. Both Boleslav and the widow were killed. That’s when we were able to escape. We ended up here in Rus, in these caves.”

Paisii remembered the blow to the chest. “So it wasn’t his staff that was powerful. It was…” He couldn’t find the word.

Brother Antoni nodded. “It was his struggle.”

Paisii considered the idea as he surveyed the hillside. Hammering noises pounded in the distance, the leaves on the green shrubs on the hillside fluttered, and the sun shone warm on his face. “We better head towards church.”

Brother Antoni stood up with his walking stick. “Let’s climb.”

Moisey the Hungarian

Lagniappe

In Louisiana, we use the Creole French word Lagniappe (lan-yap) to mean "a little something extra." Here's your lagniappe this month.

1. I'd like to ask for your help. I am trying to find 1000 readers who are drawn to the kind of stories I'm telling. Who might be interested?

People who like heroes of the faith. Folks who like fantastical history. People who long for old tales retold for a modern audience. Please share this website with them. Thank you!

2. Moisey Ugrin translates to "Moses the Hungarian" in English. He has a fascinating life story. You can get the gist at wikipedia. He is known for helping for those who struggle with physical passions.

3. This book - The Kiev Caves Paterikon - is the original source of his story, along chapters about 36 other monks from the Middle Ages. It might make inspirational reading during the school year, reading one per week. It's out of print, but many church libraries have a copy. Excerpts are available online through the University of Toronto.

*painting credit:"At the caves of the Kiev Lavra" by Igor Mashkov