Monasteries - Ninotsminda, Bodbe, Khirsa and Natlismtsemeli
Categories: orthodox-life, holidays, monasticism, georgia, lives-of-saints, spiritual-journey
Date: 28 July 2009 10:58:00
While Davit Gareji was the most challenging and inspirational monastery visited for me, that is not to suggest the others had no impact on me: for they did. I will split the other monasteries visited into several posts and try and be brief for the sake of the sanity of any readers. If you would like further information on any of them, or on my experiences, please ask.
As mentioned in the Davit Gareji post, the Thirteen Assyrian Fathers were encountered with great regularity on our travels throughout Eastern Georgia: we visited a number of churches and monasteries founded by them or dedicated to their memory. There were also a number of new [to me] Georgian Saints to discover and take inspiration from their lives: particularly Saint Nino, titled Equal to the Apostles and the Enlightener of Georgia [c. 296 – c. 338]. I, again, commend to you St Herman Press' The Lives of the Georgian Saints; and give thanks to John who recommended it to me.
Our first stop out of Tbilisi, on the way to Sighnaghi, was Nintosminda Cathedral. In ruins [19th century earthquake damage], this 6th century cathedral is still amazing and imposing. The remaining visible frescoes are 16th century [the bandit bullet holes from the 18th/19th!]; the brick belltower is 16th century; and the fortifications from the 16th/17th centuries. Nintosminda Cathedral was the first example in Georgia of of Tetraconch [four-apse] form, and an example for future churches in the same style. The Cathedral complex is now operated as a nunnery: with reconstruction work going on. It is a joy to see ancient sites revitalised with monastics. One of the sisters took us around and explained the history and current developments. We were blessed to, at I think every monastery we visited, to have a monk or nun guide us around; with translation provided by our wonderful guides.
On our first full day in Sighnaghi, we had a morning walk from the town to Bodbe Convent [about 2 kilometres] -- with some superb views. Bodbe was my first experience venerating a tomb [at least that I can recall and at least one where the intiative was from deep within: the journey of mine to such acts of piety has been a slow one]. The experience of venerating Saints' tombs was to prove overwhelming at times, particularly as such sacred sites and places continued. But always a blessing. The church itself was covered with icons seemingly everywhere: again, a new experience but one that would be repeated throughout my travels. Founded on the grave of St. Nino, the current church -- named for St. George -- was built in the 9th century and had signficant modifications in the 17th. I also, with 2 others, took the walk down [and down it was at times -- rather steep: and I was put to shame by many elderly Orthodox ladies who seemed to race down with ease] to St Nino's Spring and the Chapel of Ss Zabulon and St. Sosana, the parents of St Nino. Due to the large queue, and rather slow progress of the pilgrims, I did not enter the spring myself: an excuse to go back! The chapel, though small, was a haven of peace and solitude: I feel blessed to have visit it.
The Assyrian Fathers return: Khirsa Monastery was founded in the 6th century by St Stephen [hence its other name, Stepanetsminda]. His tomb is to the left of the altar in the Church of St Stephen the Proto-martyr. Actually seeing, more than that, touching and praying at the tombs of Saints, moved me greatly. It did feel strange at first, it not being something I have not had experience in as mentioned above, and I was not quite sure if there was a 'protocol' [always a rule-follower me!]: but death does not separate us in terms of communion in Christ, so it is a natural thing to do -- at least in Orthodoxy. Any feelings of unease did soon disappear as I pondered the life, and death, of the Saint and what example they had for me through their life: and pondered the fact that though separated in time, we are One in Christ.
Much of the church has been whitewashed, though now richly decorated with hung icons. An interesting sight was the presence of a chain used by monks to climb to cells above the church [I came in late and did not hear the full story: I believe they were used in times past]. From the monastery grounds there were great views all around [though sometimes an annoying tourist got in the way! :D ], an interesting stone wall and some superb entry gates. A monk, perhaps the abbot [my knowledge of Orthodox clerical dress is approaching 0], gave me an icon card, which is a fond memory as well as the icon I bought of St Stephen of Khirsa.
On the way back from Davit Gareji, we stopped off at Natlismtsemeli Monastery. Natlismtsemeli was founded by Ss Lukiane and Dodo, disciples of St Davit of Gareji, and dedicated to St. John the Baptist. As with many monasteries and churches we visited, it was exceptionally heartening for me to see a great amount of construction and work going on: these ancient sites are not just 'museum' sites, but active, and through the grace of God may they be flourishing, monastic centres once more.
At each church visited, the group participated in some Georgian chanting -- the Trisagion being the main one. I did not participate as (1) I find singing in a group, even for fun, not so much fun [add to that the fact I am a very poor singer]: I do sing in a church service; but not in 'groups' outside; and (2) I was wandering the church, venerating the icons, and any tombs, lighting candles and saying prayers, and generally taking it all in. It was a blessing to be doing this while chanting was occuring though: it did add an extra sense of the 'holy', in that I seemed far away from the cares of the world, wrapped in a mystical communion with God and His Saints. At Natlismtsemeli I retreated to an upper chapel, with a view down towards the main church and its iconostasis.
Looking back through the photos, and pondering the experiences I had and the reflections I have now, looking back, it is interesting what stands out. Something as simple as the bells to the left communicates something deep within me: not sure exactly what, but their presence, humble as they may be, indicates a community: a call to prayer; a call to meals; other calls I may be unaware of. Looking at other photos and remembering the places -- and people: the number of pilgrims who had also made a journey to these place -- gives a sense of peace. And hope. Inner hope. That while the world has its fair share of struggles, and sometimes I wonder where we are all headed, I remember the men and women who have devoted themselves to a priestly or monastic life: and that, in the midst of my daily grind, their prayers for the world are ascending like incense to the throne of God. And also recall that I too, within myself, am called to cultivate the love, joy and peace of God, in whatever way I can. Thanks be to God.