ANBA KARRAS THE ANCHORITE ......(FROM THE TRANSCRIPTS OF ST. MARY MONASTERY (BARAMOS))

....After he blessed me and I left with joy and peace. I walked for a while, and then I could not walk because I could not see my way. After a while I opened my eyes and found myself walking in front of a cave inside a rock on the mountain. I walked toward the door and I knocked and said, "Aghabi."

Right then a voice from inside spoke to me saying, "It is good that you came today Anba Bimoa God’s saint, the one who was worthy to shroud the holy body of St. Hillaria the daughter of the great King Zenon. "

I entered the cave and stood staring at him for a long time, because he was venerable and full of awe. He was a very luminous person, and God’s grace was on his face. He was full of light and of average height. He had a long beard with only a few black hairs in it and he was wearing a simple tunic. He was thin, had a soft voice and was holding a walking stick in his hand.

He said to me: "You came to me today and brought death with you, and I have been waiting for you for a long time my beloved one." Then I asked him, "What is your name blessed father?"

He answered saying, "My name is Karras."

I asked him, "For how long have you been in this wilderness? " He answered, "For 57 years I haven't seen a human face, and I have been waiting for you anxiously and happily. "

I stayed with him for a day at the end of which Anba Karras became sick with a high fever. He cried and sighed and said to me, "..and what I was afraid of all my life came to me. Oh Lord, how can I escape from your face and how can I hide? Truly how fearful is that hour. Let it be according to your mercy oh my Lord and not according to my sins."

When the sun rose on the next day Anba Karras was lying down and could not move. And behold a great light, greater than the sunlight was coming through the door. Then entered a very radiant person wearing white clothes as bright as the sun and in his right hand was a luminous cross. I was sitting at Anba Karras' feet and I was afraid and surprised. But this luminous person stepped forward toward Anba Karras and put the cross on his face. He spoke with him a lot and then gave him peace and left. I stepped toward our father Anba Karras to inquire about that person, who had all that glory. He answered with all gladness , "This is our Lord and Master Jesus Christ and this is his custom with me. He comes every day and blesses me, talks to me and then he leaves."

I asked him, "Oh my blessed father I desire to be blessed by His glory."

He answered me and said, "Before you leave this place you will see the Lord Jesus in His glory and He will bless you and talk with you also."

When we reached the seventh day of the month of Abeeb I found Anba Karras raising his eyes which were full of tears up to heaven. He sighed deeply and said to me, "There is a great pillar that fell in Upper Egypt and the earth lost a blessed Saint. The world was not worthy of one of his footsteps. He is Saint Anba Shenouda the Archimandrite. I saw his soul going up to heaven surrounded by angels’ hymns and I heard crying and mourning rising from all of Upper Egypt's earth. The monks gathered around his holy body taking a blessing from him and his body was luminous."

When I heard that, I memorized the date and kept it in mind, it was on the 7th of Abeeb that Anba Shenouda passed away. On the next day, 8th of Abeeb, Anba Karras' illness worsened and in the middle of the day a great light appeared that filled the cave. The Saviour of the world entered preceded by the Archangels Michael and Gabriel, and many angels with six wings, accompanied by the voices of prayer and hymns here and there, and with the smell of incense. I was sitting at Anba Karras' feet while our Lord Jesus Christ in all his glory was sitting at the head of St. Anba Karras, who held our Saviors right hand. He asked him for me, "My Lord and my God bless him because he came from very far cities and a long distance for this day."

The Lord looked at me and said, "May my peace be with you Bimoa, what you saw and heard you will write and preach. But you my beloved Karras every human that knows your life story and mentions your name on earth, will have my peace and I will count him with the Martyrs and the Saints. Every person that presents wine, corban, incense, oil or candles in your memory, I will reward him twofold in the kingdom of heaven. Any one who feeds the hungry or gives drink to the thirsty, or clothes to the naked or welcomes a stranger in your name’s sake, I will reward him double in my kingdom. And who writes your holy biography I will write his name in the Book of Life. Anyone who shows mercy in your memory day I will give him what the eye has never seen and what the ear has never heard and what the heart never felt. Now my beloved Karras I want you to ask me for something that I can do for you before your departure."

Anba Karras asked him, " My Lord I have been praying the psalms day and night and I wished to see David the prophet while I am still in the flesh. "

In the blink of an eye David came holding his harp in his hand and he was singing the psalm, "This is the day the Lord has made let us rejoice and be glad.." pslam117 v.24

Anba Karras said, "I want to hear the ten cords together with the tune and melody." David moved his harp and sang, "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints." pslam116 v.15

While David was singing his psalms with his beautiful voice, and while the Saint was very pleased, his soul departed from his blessed body to the bosom of our Good Saviour who took it and presented it to the Archangel Michael.

Then, I Bimoa kissed the flesh of St. Anba Karras and buried him. The Glorious Lord pointed to me to leave the cave, which I did. Then Lord Jesus Christ surrounded by His angels left in front of the spirit, among songs and hymns. We left the body in the cave, and then the Glorious Lord put His hand on the cave and it became as if it had never had a door that could be opened. All of them raised up to heaven in happiness. I stayed standing alone in that place until that beautiful view vanished from my sight, then I closed my eyes to contemplate the bright light and the beautiful view. When I opened my eyes I found myself in front of the cave of Anba Abbamoud ElKallaa. I stayed three days and then I left him and I went to Anba Samaan ElKallaa. I stayed with him three days and then I left and returned to Shaheet Mountain where my church is. There I met all the brethren and told them the life story of St. Anba Karras the Great Anchorite, and his sayings about Anba Shenouda, the Archimandrite’s, departure.

After five days we got a message from Upper Egypt saying that St. Anba Shenouda the Archimandrite passed away on the same day that Anba Karras had seen.

May the blessings of St. Mary the Mother of Light and St. Anba Shenouda the Archimandrite and Anba Karras the Anchorite be with us all.

Glory be to God for ever and ever....

AMEN.

You will do greater things

I attended a crusade at a friend’s born-again Christian church a few months ago where it is likely that most members were former Catholics. Somehow the lack of teachings, doctrine and tradition becomes useful to them as it doesn’t get in the way of the central message.

It got me thinking about how, in many parts of the world, the church seems to be haemorrhaging souls to cults on the one hand and to the born-again Christian or Pentecostal churches on the other. 

With cults clearly there is a strong demonic influence, it goes beyond mere brainwashing and coercion to get people to believe their zany teachings and demi-god status of leaders. They promise freedom and deliver bondage. 

With the born again groups its quite the opposite I find, they are successful because they offer freedom and deliver on it, leading their congregation to be open to the Holy Spirit and into a close union with Him. The bad thing is that, now that what was missing in their lives is now filled, the converts perceive that all that they had before was lacking or irrelevant, so an element of deception creeps into the equation.

As Catholics we are really good at praying, going up the mountain, the private room, and it is our strength, as Padre Pio said it was the Masses said throughout the world everyday that hold it together, I believe that. 

Perhaps the born again Christian groups only exist because of our reluctance to enter in fully to the other dynamic areas of Jesus’ mission, empowered by the Holy Spirit to heal the sick, raise the dead, cast out demons. Imagine if everyone in your parish was equipped like that! 

The strength of the born again groups is that they take Jesus at His word, “you will do even greater things” and then allow Him to work His miracles through them. 

Surely we can do the same, and when you think about it, as our church has God given authority, would He not pour His Spirit out on us all the more, if we ask for it?

The Wrong number..

One night, about 3am, the phone rang in the Presbytery. The PP answered it and the caller enquired “Is that the funeral home ?” ; “No, we are all alive here, only sleeping, its 3am” was the response. The caller went onto explain that he had just returned from the USA having heard that his mother had just died and was trying to find out where she was. The Priest recognised the name; he was to conduct the mother’s funeral that week.

The plot thickened; as the son told him how he had left under a cloud, the ‘blacksheep’ of the family you could say, and although he wanted to attend his mother’s funeral he was a bit concerned about how he would be received by the rest of the family. Perhaps Fr.. could smooth things over for him ? He agreed to do so.

At the funeral, when he came in all his relatives embraced him and welcomed him, somehow the death in the family became a source of unity and they all cried together and were reconciled and put past events behind them.

The son was so pleased that he heartily thanked the PP for his help and said that “if there is anything I can ever do for you, just let me know and I will” The priest thought this over for a few moments and said “actually there is one thing, I’m having a Life in the Spirit Seminar here for the next few weeks and I’d like you to attend”

His face dropped at the prospect of having to spend a half a dozen evenings in church; He had been away from the church for a very long time, born into the Catholic church but never really deciding to be one. However he was grateful and so agreed to attend, just to please him.

As the weeks went by, and he listened to the teachings and testimonies of these “born again” Catholics, he received the gift of faith, it all started to make sense to him, the love of God, the sacrifice of Jesus, the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. He decided for God , was reconciled with Him and received His mercy and forgiveness.

A complete change came over him, the same zeal and dedication he had once had for sin, he now had for God and wanted to share this good news with others. Soon his family, amazed at his transformation, were attending the next Life in the Spirit seminar, as were some old friends. He was happy and at peace at last.

A couple of months later, still in his twenties, he had a heart attack and died.

The Royal Way

It was necessary for foreigners in Britain to renew their visas periodically. I had to have mine renewed by 31st December 1954, or leave the country. I did not have a penny to my name, how could I get those forms down to London ? A registered letter cost 1 shilling (12 pennies). I did not believe that God was going to let me be thrown out of school for the lack of a shilling.

And so the game moved into a new phase. I had a name for it by now. I called it the game of the Royal Way. I had discovered that when God supplied money He did it in a Kingly manner, not in some groveling way.

Three separate times, over the matter of the registered letter, I was almost lured from the Royal way. I was head of the student body and in charge of the schools tract fund. One day my eye lit first on the calendar, it was 28th December and then on the fund. It happened to contain several pounds just then. Surely it would be alright to borrow just one shilling.

And surely not, too. Quickly I put the idea behind me.

And then it was the 29th December. Two days left. That morning the thought occurred to me that perhaps I might find those pennies lying on the ground. I had actually put my coat on and started down the street before I saw what I was doing. I was walking along with head bowed, eyes on the ground, searching the gutter for pennies. What kind of Royal Way was this ! I straightened up and laughed out loud there on the busy street. I walked back to school with my head high, but no closer to getting the money.

The last round in the game was the most subtle of all. It was 30th December. I had to have my visa application in the post that day if it was to get to London by the 31st.

At 10 o’clock in the morning, one of the students shouted up the stairwell that I had a visitor. I ran down the stairs thinking this must be my delivering angel. But when I saw who it was my heart dropped. The visitor wasn’t coming to bring me money, he was coming to ask for it. For it was Richard, a friend I made months ago in the Patrick slums, a young man who came to the school occasionally when he needed money.

With dragging feet I went outside. Richard stood on the white-pebble walk-way, hands in pockets, eyes lowered, “Andrew, would you be having a little extra cash ? I’m hungry”
I laughed and told him my predicament and as I spoke, I saw the coin.

It lay among the pebbles, sun glinting off it in such a way that I could see it but not Richard. I could tell from its colour that it was a shilling. Instinctively, I stuck out my foot and covered the coin with my toe. Then, as Richard and I talked, I reached down and picked up the coin along with a handful of pebbles. I tossed the pebbles down, one by one, aimlessly, until at last I had just the shilling in my hand. But even as I dropped the coin into my pocket, the battle began.

That coin meant I could stay in school. I wouldn’t be doing Richard a favour by giving it to him: he’d spend it on drink and be as thirsty as ever within the hour.

While I was thinking up excellent arguments, I knew it was no good. How could I judge Richard when Christ had told me so clearly that I must not. Furthermore, this was not the Royal Way ! What right had an ambassador to hold onto money when another of the Kings children stood in front of him saying he was hungry. I shoved my hand in my pocket and drew out the silver coin.

“Look Richard, I do have this. Would it help any ?”

Richard’s eyes lit up. “it would mate”. He tossed the coin into the air and ran off down the hill. With a light heart that told me I had done the right thing, I turned to go back inside. And before I reached the door, the postman turned down our walk.

In the mail, of course, was a letter for me. I knew when I saw my sisters handwriting that it was from our prayer group back home and that there would be cash inside. And there was, a lot, a pound and a half, 30 shillings. Far more than I needed to send my letter; enough to buy soap, treat myself to my favourite toothpaste and buy Gillette supers instead of blues.

The game was over. The King had done it His way.