Monasteries - New and Old Shuamta, Iqalto, Nekresi and Martkopi
Categories: depression, anxiety, orthodox-life, holidays, monasticism, georgia, lives-of-saints, spiritual-journey
Date: 01 August 2009 08:12:53
Back to the Georgian holiday: and, again, wonderful memories come flooding back. Add to the joy of happy memories that I also get to see "the bigger picture" of life, and it is all somewhat of a help as life enters another bumpy stage.
New Shuamta Convent was our stop after Alaverdi Cathedral [which I will get to at some point: the way this series is going 2011 looks good!] on our journey from Sighnaghi to Telavi. New Shuamta Convent was built by Kakhetian King Levan II and Queen Tinatin in the 16th century. Tradition says as a child Tinatin had a dream that while resting on her way to her wedding, she rested by a white dogwood tree. A priest told her to build a church dedicated to the Nativity of the Theotokos there. Years later, as she travelled to be wedded to Levan, she saw a white dogwood tree that resembled the one in her dream, and thus building of the convent of New Shuamta began. The convent [I am unsure of 'correct' Orthodox use: Orthodox tend to use 'monastery' for both, but I feel using monastery or convent at least makes it clear...] is once again functioning as a working convent, and in fact the sister of one of our Tour Guides is a nun here -- and she came out to meet her sister.
A little before New Shuamta, down a beautiful shaded path, is Old Shuamta, separated by 1,000 years from its later namesake: the church at front left [a triple-church basilica: three parallel naves] dates from the 5th century while the other two [both tetraconch] from the 7th. Words cannot express the feeling of being in such an ancient Christian church that has stood for about 1,500 years. It is also interesting to note that the material used to make the church is a fieldstone that is exceptionally light -- there were some replacement blocks nearby and they were surprisingly easy to lift gven their size. The interior of the churches were whitewashed, but traces of frescoes from the 11th and 12th centuries are still visible. Nearby is a large forest: both of these monasteries, situated between two mountains [the literal meaning of 'Shuamta'], have a very tranquil and peaceful feel: even if a large picnic area and purveyors of trinkets and items for pilgrims are just outside the gates. Once I entered, a sense of true peace did descend.
Iqalto monastery was founded by St Zenon, one of the 13 Syrian Fathers, in the second half of the 6th century. The current church is from the 8th and 9th centuries, though restoration and repair has been done [and still are being done as can be seen]. In the 12th century, Davit the Builder [King of Georgia from 1089 to 1125: and popularly considered the greatest and most successful Georgian ruler in history] founded an academy here -- and Shota Rustaveli [whom I confess I had not heard of], author of The Knight in the Panther's Skin [an epic poem, consisting of over 1600 quatrains] and national poet of Georgia, is said to have studied here. Though the academy is in ruins and the church [The Transfiguration of Christ] is whitewashed and being repaired, the surrounds are rather pleasant -- the cypress grove in particular; and with work going on there are hopes, and prays, for the future of this place -- both as an education and spiritual centre.
There still remains a wine press and a large number of kvevri [where wine is stored in the ground] in the grounds. A small church, the Church of the Trinity, is behind the main church and dates from the late 6th century. Within the main church is the tomb of St Zenon [at right]. Again, while this aspect of the Orthodox Faith -- praying to Saints, death not conquering all and not, as time cannot, loosing the communion between us -- filled me with comfort and hope, it did also, given the intense experience and the emotions invoked, cause me some emotional and spiritual overload -- so many churches, monasteries, tombs, holy sites in such a short space of time. When I next go on pilgrimage, and I hope to, less is more for me: perhaps a week [or at least several days] in each place.
If I were able to go back to Georgia, while I would like to see new places, together with Davit Gareji I would ensure I got back [and perhaps, if possible, stay for a night or several] at Nekresi monastery. These two places moved me the most, and also, deep within, pulled at me the most. While Davit Gareji had the isolated settings in rocky mountains and a desert and sparse setting, Nekresi was isolated high on a hill amid a dense forest; while Davit Gareji had caves, Nekresi had a variety [age and style] of churches. Both had solitude: perhaps that is what most attracted me. The 45 or so minute walk up to the monastery was steep, but rather pleasant. The ruins of an old [Zoroastrian?] temple are visible along the walk also.
Nekresi became an important relgious and cultural centre with the arrival of St Abibos, another of the 13 Syrian Fathers, in the middle of the 6th century. But there was habitation before that: King Parnavaz [112-93 BC] is said to have founded the settlement; and in the fourth century King Mirian strengthened the walls of the community and after him his son is said to have built the first church here: a still-standing 4th Century Basilica [photo at right]. Stunning from the outside, with a most amazing space [a high roof], and sense of history, inside. The photo above shows the 8th century Bishop's Palace, the Refectory Tower and the Bishop's Tower added to the palace in the 16th century. The the main church, the Church of the Assumption [Orthodox usually say Dormition -- was not sure if it was a translation issue in terms of the difference] of the Virgin Mary is, like one of the churches at Old Shuamta, a three-church basilica. The beautiful frescoes within the church date from the 16th century and I was particularly taken with the cross with, if I recall correctly as my camera is not too clear, each of the Great Feasts of the Orthodox Church depicted. There is also a 8th-9th century Cupola Church and a small chapel. A wine press and kveri were also present outside, as well as on the lower level of the Bishop's palace: wine appears almost everywhere. Construction and repairs, as in many places, was happening: heartening to see. There was also what looked like an archaelogical excavation going on at the front of the monastery: a busy place -- yet still so tranquil.
Just before returning to Tbilisi from Telavi, we visited Martkopi Monastery, founded by St Anton of Martkopi, one of the 13 Syrian Fathers, in the 6th century. St Anton always carried with him, and is readily identifiable in iconography with him in it, the icon of Christ Not Made By Hands. St Anton soon became weary from the attention of those who came to visit and seek him at the monastery, and fled to the peak of a mountain where he lived and preached atop of a pillar [at left] for the last fifteen years of his life. The monastery church is a grand church indeed, with a beautiful iconostasis, arches and icons, and a true sense a "holy", set apart for God, space. Outside of the monastery gate, is a small chapel that was to me beautiful in its simplicity. I had gone ahead of the group, and had a few minutes in here to myself, to pray, to ponder, and to give thanks for the witness of such places: in both the past and the present.
These times alone were important for me: these places were very special to me in an intense way I was not expecting. Their impact on me, I believe, could not have been guessed at or prepared for prior. Such times, however short, did serve to "recharge" and "reset" me. However the overwhelming mass of emotions, thoughts, and questions that swirled in my head did mean I entered an anxious, and perhaps minor depressive, state, when we returned to Tbilisi. It ended with me crying uncontrollably at Tbilisi's Sameba [Trinity] Cathedral, returning to the hotel, crying more, seeing the receptionist for the number for Turkish Airlines so I could get out, getting a visit from the Tour Leader [obviously called by a concerned receptionist!], and having a most helpful talk [and release of emotions] with him. I decided to stay and see how things went [we were headed for the mountains and hence less chance of monastic/religious overload], but from then, I did withdraw moreso from the group: not intentionally, and I hope none were offended; but, while I was continuing on the travels, my mind was in a very strange place. But also a place I think it needed to go --for it has led to some decisions, some changes, and more importantly some realisations about who I am. For which thanks and praise be to God.