The Apostle Paul, writing to a congregation
altogether too enamoured of eloquence and distinction, delivered a verdict that
every generation of the Church is obliged to relearn- “But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to
shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame
the things which are mighty”-1 Corinthians 1:27.
It is a verdict our age receives uneasily, as
we are accustomed to measure spiritual authority by credentials, publications,
position, and visibility. Fr. George Philip possessed few of these instruments
of recognition. Yet those who lived with him or were formed under his quiet
discipline encountered a man whose spiritual authority seemed to arise from an
altogether different source, not from accomplishment, but from surrender to the
will of God.
The desert tradition of the Church produced,
alongside its great theologians and teachers, an entire company of deliberately
obscure men and women who cultivated a holiness partly expressed through the
refusal to be noticed. At the furthest end of this tradition stand the Holy
Fools, whose suspicion of spiritual reputation was so severe that they
sometimes embraced misunderstanding to escape veneration. George Achen was no
Holy Fool in that dramatic sense; he sought no scandal and cultivated no
eccentricity for its own sake. Yet he shared something of the same theological
grammar, the conviction that the self is an obstacle to be continually set
aside rather than a possession to be endlessly promoted.
Early Life and Call to Priesthood
Fr. George Philip was born on 20 November 1952
into the Mannalumbhagom family of Puthuppally as the son of Adv. P. J. George
and Mariamma George. Known affectionately to his family as Siby, he received
the baptismal name Philip and was officially named P. George Philip. He grew up
with his siblings, P. George Joseph, George P. Abraham, and Andamma George, in
a household rooted in the agricultural life of the land.
After
completing his schooling and graduating from S. B. College, Changanassery, he
travelled to Goa to study law, intending to follow his father’s profession. Before
long, however, he realised that the legal profession was not the path appointed
for him. Leaving his studies unfinished, young Philip made the decisive choice
to offer his life to the service of God. He informed the then Metropolitan of
the Kottayam Diocese, His Grace Paret Mathews Mar Ivanios, of his desire and
subsequently joined the Orthodox Theological Seminary, Kottayam.
It was only after entering the Seminary that
Philip began serving within the Holy Altar. Following his seminary studies, he
obtained master’s degrees in Malayalam, Sanskrit, and English. Yet scholarship
never became for him a means of distinction. Learning was placed within the
larger discipline of the spiritual life and subjected to the question that
would govern nearly every aspect of his existence- What is the will of God?
Fr. George Philip served as associate vicar and
vicar in several parishes of the Kottayam Diocese, including some that later
became part of the Nilakkal Diocese. During this period, he also lived at
Pampady Dayara, embracing a manner of life increasingly shaped by solitude,
restraint, prayer, and the disciplines of monasticism.
He served as Vice Principal of B.M.M. School
and as Head of its Malayalam Department. After many years of teaching, he took
voluntary retirement and joined Mar Baselios Dayara, Njaliakuzhy. With the
permission of his bishop, His Grace Geevarghese Mar Ivanios Metropolitan, he
eventually withdrew from parish responsibilities to serve as chaplain of the
Dayara and devote himself more fully to prayer, silence, and meditation.
A Pathway Around Idle Speech
During his years at the Dayara, students
noticed a peculiar habit. If George Achen saw two or three of them gathered in
conversation, he would sometimes turn aside and reach his room by another
route. It was not aloofness, nor was it intended as a rebuke. When asked about
the practice, he offered a simple and unsparing answer that when people stand
together, the tongue speaks more than it should, and eventually this may lead
to sin and disturb the spiritual life.
To modern ears, such reasoning may appear
excessively austere. We inhabit a culture in which continuous expression is
treated almost as an unquestionable good to remain relevant in society. Silence
is easily mistaken for absence, weakness, or disapproval. George Achen
understood that many of the soul’s gravest injuries begin in unguarded words.
The tongue can wound another, feed vanity, spread suspicion, and cloud the mind
that seeks God. He therefore guarded speech not because he despised company,
but because he understood his own frailty.
A few extra steps to avoid idle conversation
became a miniature expression of monastic anthropology. The body changed its
course so that the heart might remain attentive.
The Will of God Before Every Other Good
The phrase most closely associated with George
Achen’s spiritual teaching was the “will of God.” For Achen, this was the
criterion by which every action, including apparently virtuous actions, had to
be judged.
On one occasion, he advised an inmate not to
run about attempting to do everything that came before him. The inmate
explained that whenever he began one task, someone else would call him to
another. He believed that responding to every request was an act of obedience.
Did not the Lord command His disciples to go the second mile and to surrender
even their cloak when it was demanded of them?
George Achen listened and gently corrected that
one must look for the will of God in everything. Otherwise, even obedience,
when separated from discernment, can lead to wrongdoing.
George Achen did not permit even obedience to
take the place of discernment. For him, obedience was neither mechanical
compliance with every demand nor an anxious attempt to satisfy every
expectation. Even a seemingly good action could become spiritually disordered
if it arose from pride, fear, distraction, or the desire to appear useful. The
question was therefore not merely- “Is this action generous? Is it
difficult? Does someone expect it of me?” The deeper question was- “Does
this belong to God, or merely to my own restlessness?”
Prayer as Repentance and Intercession
When asked how one might pray continually,
George Achen’s answer was simple, practical, and grounded in an honest
knowledge of the human heart.
He taught that one should begin by praying for
oneself. After some time, the mind becomes aware that it has been occupied
chiefly with its own needs, and this awareness produces repentance. Repentance
then moves the person to pray for others. Later, while interceding for others,
one becomes conscious again of one’s own weakness and returns to prayer for
oneself. Thus, prayer continues in a rhythm, moving between personal repentance
and intercession for the world.
The apparent simplicity of this counsel
conceals considerable spiritual wisdom. George Achen did not imagine that
unceasing prayer required the elimination of human weakness. Weakness itself
could become the point from which prayer can begin again; self-concern led to
repentance, repentance opens the heart towards others, and intercession
returned the soul to an awareness of its own dependence upon mercy. Prayer thus
moved in a circle, but not a fruitless one. Each return went deeper.
“We should always pray for the will of God and
for God’s mercy,” he taught. These two petitions belonged together. To seek the
will of God without His mercy could become harsh striving. To seek mercy
without surrender to His will could become spiritual self-indulgence.
A Bible Worn by Use
Near the place where George Achen stood to pray
was a simple cane stool. Upon it he kept his prayer books and his Bible. The
Bible was heavily worn, its pages bearing visible evidence of a long
companionship with Scripture. There is an old saying that a good Christian’s
Bible is often worn.
On Saturdays, after evening prayer, he would
gather the students and ask them to read the relevant portions from the Old and
New Testaments according to the lectionary. At times he questioned them about
what had been read, taking particular interest in how the Old Testament and New
Testament readings illuminated one another.
Communion Before Charity
George Achen taught that the Christian life
flows from Holy Communion to good deeds, not the other way around. Through Holy
Communion, the faithful receive the Holy Body and Blood of the Lord and are
drawn into His life. From that union, we are called to serve others and act
with the mind and character of Christ.
The movement is from altar to the world, from
sacrament to service, and from communion to charity. Christian action proceeds
from union with Christ. For this to happen, we must remain continually
connected to Christ through the Eucharistic life of the Church.
It is this conviction which protects the
service from becoming self-glorification. When good works are severed from
communion with Christ, they can easily become an exercise in moral pride. The
person may seek to appear godlike through the greatness of his deeds while
remaining inwardly untouched by the humility of God.
Authority Without Ambition
Achen usually observed others in silence and
rarely invoked authority merely because he possessed it. Yet his restraint was
neither timidity nor indecision. When something needed to be said, he said it
without hesitation, and his words carried weight precisely because they had not
been multiplied carelessly.
The same freedom appeared during discussions
concerning episcopal nominations. When one of the monks suggested that all
suitable persons should be permitted to submit their names, George Achen
agreed. Achen reasoned that if the Church has asked for deserving candidates, then
all who are considered suitable should be offered to the Church with prayer,
leaving the result to the will of God.
While discussions and speculation continued
outside the Dayara, Achen remained calm and gentle, refusing to be drawn into
the surrounding negotiations.
When a fellow monk asked whether he should
submit his own nomination, George Achen advised him to do so and said that if
it were God’s will, he might be chosen; if not, the disappointment itself might
become a blessing by exposing and correcting any pride within his spiritual
life. When the monk later considered withdrawing, George Achen discouraged him and
asked him to leave the result to God. This monk and two others were
subsequently raised to the episcopate.
We are accustomed to judging success and
failure as opposites, one desirable and the other regrettable. George Achen saw
them differently. Neither was ultimate, and neither possessed an independent
meaning. Success could become spiritually perilous if it fostered pride, while
failure could become a blessing if it humbled and purified the heart. Both,
when surrendered to God, could serve as instruments of grace.
The Theology That Became a Life
While theological concepts are usually expressed
in propositions, George Achen’s was expressed almost entirely in verbs; through
yielding, in withholding speech, in tending soil and cattle, in reading the
Scriptures with unwavering constancy, in asking, before every act, whether the
act in question belonged to God or merely to himself. He returned to the same
truths until they entered the movements of his body and the instincts of his
mind.
The Church has always known that this is the
more difficult theology to develop; not the theology that is written, but the
theology that is lived, day after day, until the distinction between the person
and his prayer can no longer easily be drawn.
For George Achen, monastics were “living
martyrs.” They were called to die to the world each day so that they might live
more completely with God. This martyrdom was not ordinarily enacted in a single
heroic moment. It took place through inconspicuous renunciations, a word left
unspoken or a preference surrendered. His life was shaped by precisely this
hidden martyrdom.
George Achen fell asleep in the quiet of his
own cell, on 04th September 2022, days before the Church’s
commemoration of the Nativity of the Theotokos. The Theotokos is venerated by
the Church for the totality of her yielding; a will so thoroughly surrendered
that it became the very ground upon which the Incarnation could occur. “Let it
be to me according to your word” (St. Luke 1:38). The surrender expressed by
the Theotokos in that single sentence, a fiat without fanfare, had been the
long labour of George Achen’s life.
Achen’s mortal remains were taken to his mother
parish, St. George Orthodox Church, Puthuppally, and to his family home, where
the appointed services were conducted and then brought back to Mar Baselios
Dayara. On Monday, 05th September 2022, the funeral was conducted
near the chapel under the leadership of His Holiness Baselios Marthoma Mathews
III Catholicos and Malankara Metropolitan, together with the assembled
metropolitans and priests. He was laid to rest near the resting place of His
Grace Geevarghese Mar Ivanios Metropolitan (of blessed memory).
In an age fascinated by visibility, George
Achen’s witness recalls the Christian conviction that the holiest lives are
often hidden from the world and known fully only to God. This was the grammar
of his hidden sanctity. Grammar does not ordinarily draw attention to itself;
it stands beneath speech, quietly giving order and intelligibility to every
sentence. In much the same way, the hidden disciplines of Achen’s life stood
beneath his words and actions. Silence, repentance, Scripture, Eucharist,
obedience, and discernment were not isolated virtues, but parts of an
underlying spiritual order by which his whole life became intelligible.
Only after his departure did those who had
lived around him begin to understand the place he had quietly occupied among
them. Many remembered that he had not spoken to them often. Yet they also
remembered that he had been present, someone among them whose silence was not
emptiness but prayer.
May his memory be eternal and may the humility
he practised so unassumingly continue to instruct those of us who remain, still
labouring, as he once did, to discern in each small matter what is truly and
simply the will of God.
By the prayers and intercessions of our father
among the saints, Fr. George Philip, may the Lord have mercy upon us and help
us.
In Christ,
Rincy
(Ref: Mounamudridam, edited by Fr.
Yohannan A., Mashikkoottu, 2023)
No comments:
Post a Comment