Once upon a time on Mount Athos there was a monk who lived in Karyes.
He drank every day, got drunk, and caused pilgrims to be scandalized.
At some point he died, and some believers relieved,went to Elder Paisios and, with particular joy, told him that at last this huge problem had been resolved.
Fr. Paisios replied that he already knew about the monk’s death, because he had seen an entire host of angels come to receive his soul.
The pilgrims were astonished, protested, and some tried to explain to Elder Paisios exactly whom they were talking about, thinking that he hadn’t understood.
Then Fr. Paisios told them the story:
“This particular monk was born in Asia Minor, shortly before the catastrophe, when the Turks were rounding up all the boys.
So that he wouldn’t be taken from his parents, they would take him with them to the harvest, and so that he wouldn’t cry, they would put a little raki into his milk to make him sleep.
As a result, as he grew up he became an alcoholic.
At some point, after discouraging advice from various doctors telling him not to start a family, he went up to the Holy Mountain and became a monk.
There he found an elder and told him that he was an alcoholic.
The elder told him to make prostrations and prayers every night and to beg the Panagia to help him reduce the number of glasses he drank.
After one year, through struggle and repentance, he managed to reduce the twenty glasses he used to drink to fifteen.
The struggle continued over the years, and he reached two or three glasses but even with those he would still get drunk.”
People, for years, saw an alcoholic monk who scandalized pilgrims; but God saw a fighter, a struggler, who with great effort fought to reduce his passion.
Without knowing and since each person is trying to do what they are able to do, by what right do we judge their effort?
