Archimandrite Seraphim (Popescu) By the decision of the Holy Synod of the Romanian Orthodox Church on July 11–12, 2024, 16 servants of God, who shone with sanctity in the twentieth century, were canonized. One of them is Archimandrite Seraphim (Popescu), the abbot of the Sâmbăta de Sus Monastery, who will now be known as St. Seraphim the Long-Suffering of Sâmbăta, and his memory will be celebrated on December 20 according to the new style calendar.
He was like the bread of God—humble, meek, always trying to help everyone and encourage them. He never thought much of himself and never spared himself. When praised, he would reply that praise was the same as slander.
“I knew him for thirty-seven years as someone who gave people holy rest,” said his friend and disciple, Father Theophil (Părăian).
Constant prayer made him shine like the sun. Christ manifested Himself in him in all His splendor.
“Being near Father Seraphim was like being under God’s protection,” said one of the faithful from the village of Sâmbăta Făgărașului.
When Father Seraphim passed away, everyone understood they were bidding farewell to a saint. People continued to visit his grave and ask for his help, just as they did when he was alive. For his spiritual children, Father Seraphim is always alive.
A man with a halo of holiness.
Father Seraphim with his spiritual children
Father Seraphim was born on October 27, 1912, in the village of Totoi, fifty kilometers from the county town of Alba Iulia, into a family of devout peasants with five children. He was the fourth, with two brothers and two sisters. He was baptized with the name Dimitrie. At that time, Transylvania was part of Austria-Hungary, the Habsburg Empire, but he grew up in Greater Romania, with which Transylvania was reunited in 1918.
From an early age, he developed a passion for learning, and he often told his students:
“I love conversing with a book, because it tells me so much and says nothing about me to anyone. The book is my best friend.”
His parents, simple peasants, deprived themselves of everything to give him the opportunity to study. Rejoicing in the reunification of Greater Romania, the peasantry of Ardeal[1] began to dream of something else: that the children of peasants could stand on equal footing with the nobility. Father’s nephew recalled that, to educate Dimitrie, the parents had to sell agricultural products in bulk. Thus, the future abbot of Sâmbăta de Sus grew up in an atmosphere of love that reached the point of self-sacrifice. The parents spared no effort to see their clever child become an enlightener of the people, as priests and teachers were called in Ardeal at that time. But Dimitrie never forgot his beginnings, and perhaps it was for this reason that he spared no effort to enable his parents to see their dream come true.
Village of Totoi, in the foreground. Photo: Alba County website. Photo: radiounirea.ro
He studied at the high school in Alba Iulia, then entered the Andrei Theological Academy in Sibiu, from which he graduated in 1936. These were the glorious years when the rector of the Academy was Father Dumitru Stăniloae, and among the students was Father Arsenie (Boca). When this future “Saint of Ardeal” was in his final year, Dimitrie was in his first. They were destined to meet again at the Sâmbăta Monastery.
Metropolitan Nicolae (Bălan)[2] noticed in Dimitrie rare qualities of the soul and a remarkable intellect, and so sent him to the Theological Faculty of Chernivtsi University to continue his studies. Here, Father studied and rented a room with Father Vasile Miteu, who witnessed his way of life and later left invaluable memories of him.
Dimitrie avoided people, was silent, kind, and diligent. He stood in prayer for hours, only going to church and to study, nowhere else. Long periods of prayer filled his heart with grace, even though he was only 24 years old.
“Something indescribable emanated from him. It felt like mysterious waves were flowing out, and a spiritual aura formed around him. I used to tell people that I saw a man with a halo of holiness,” recounted Father Vasile.
When he once asked Dimitrie what he wanted to do after his studies, he immediately replied that he wanted to join a monastery. To prepare him for this, Metropolitan Nicolae (Bălan) sent him to Greece, where for a year he listened to leading professors of the Athens Theological Faculty. But the highest school, which would leave a lasting mark on him, was Mount Athos, where he spent six months. For six months, he was under the guidance of Father Antipa (Dinescu), alongside the young theologian and artist Zian Boca, with whom he would also take monastic vows.
A Disciple of a Saint
Archimandrite Antipa (Dinescu; 1858–1942). Photo: ziarullumina.ro
They were not alone there. During the interwar period, many Romanians seeking life in Christ crossed Father Antipa’s threshold. Father Daniel (Sandu Tudor) would also be there, and would later write heartfelt lines about this elder: “With gray hair flowing like white silk.” After being the abbot of the Prodromu Skete for fourteen years, Father Antipa retired in silence to a cell located on the lands of the Stavronikita Monastery, on the very slope of Mount Athos, from where only the sea could be seen.
There, in the silence caressed by the sound of the waves, the hesychast devoted himself to the art of the prayer of the heart, plunging him into the depths of Divine love.
“Do not much,” he wrote to his disciples, “and do not talk about vain things, but recount spiritual words from the Patericon, and hold to the prayer, ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me’ as much as you can.”
The Făgăraș Mountains and the Transfăgărășan Highway crossing them. Photo: Iulian Aștilian
On Mount Athos, at the feet of this saint, the young Dimitrie laid the foundation for his monastic life. Father Antipa ignited such a flame of prayer in his heart that as soon as he returned to his homeland, he immediately wanted to join a monastery. Metropolitan Nicolae (Bălan) chose for him the secluded Sâmbăta de Sus Monastery, built by Voivode Constantin Brâncoveanu. The Bishop intended to gather a community of learned monks here, who would sanctify the whole Făgăraș region and assist him in preaching Orthodoxy in Transylvania.
Here, too, the Metropolitan sent the young Zian (Boca). These two monks lit such a flame of faith in Sâmbăta that it still burns to this day.
In Sâmbăta with Arsenie (Boca)
Celebration at the Sâmbăta de Sus Monastery, 1940s.
All this took place in 1940 when Romania was on the brink of war. In those troubled times, Father Arsenie’s spiritual vision, which saw beyond temporal boundaries, and Father Serafim’s heart, strong enough to bear any pain, worked wonders. Father Serafim never possessed the divine gifts of his fellow monk. He would say that to him God had measured out his gifts drop by drop, but to Father Arsenie by the bucket. But what he did not receive from heaven, he made up for with diligence and meekness. And Father Arsenie would say to those who came to him:
“Go to Father Serafim; he is an angel in the flesh!”
“When Father Serafim went to the church for services, especially for the Divine Liturgy,” one nun testified, “it seemed like he did not touch the ground with his feet. He carried the censer with such reverence that you could feel he was serving before God. I would hold my breath; it seemed to me I was breathing too loudly—the silence was so deep when Father Serafim went around the faithful with the censer. In my soul, he left the image of a man with great fear of God, zealous for the house of God, and possessing the sensitivity characteristic of saints. He exemplified the meekness of the Seraphim after whom he was named.”
This deeply spiritual life stemmed from ceaseless prayer, which he had learned to perform even in childhood.
“Let us converse with God,” he would say to the pilgrims, meeting them on the way to the church.
Neither did his conversation with Christ and the saints cease for him in his cell. Whoever came to him would always find him kneeling with the epitrachelion on his chest, reading the Psalter before the icon. The heavenly world was his world. He even said to his disciples:
“Live in this world as if you are not in it. But make sure that your absence is not noticed.”
Thus, he sanctified his soul, passing through the whirlpools of time, untouched by them, with a heart full of love, peace, and unceasing joy.
Sâmbăta de Sus Monastery. Photo: blog.travelminit.ro
In 1944, he was appointed abbot of Sâmbăta and would pastor here until 1954. These were the most difficult years, when communism unleashed its fiercest persecutions. Partisans in the mountains fought against it to the death, and Father Serafim and Father Arsenie strengthened them with their prayers and with the word as much as they could. Yet, the flames of hellish communism did not touch Father Serafim.
“Paradise often passes before us. Oh, if only we could see it!” he would say to the faithful. “Paradise is love, unity, kindness, meekness, spiritual light, while hell is malice, hatred, and darkness. Hell often passes, too. Oh, if only we did not see it.”
The Blind Disciple
Archimandrite Serafim (Popescu) and Monk Theophil (Părăian)
Evening falls, the last rays of daylight filtering through the window of the cell overlooking the Făgăraș Mountains, which Father Serafim tries to catch to finish reading the Philokalia. He reads unhurriedly, taking breaks when he feels the sound of the typewriter is lagging behind him. The eyes of the one typing do not need light; they have been closed since infancy. Occasionally, they can make out faint shadows instead of the world he never saw. Father Serafim’s disciple is named Theophil; he is blind but loves books just as much as Father Serafim does. And the father helps him read like this, even though he has no time, being surrounded by the faithful everywhere, caught up in services and Confessions. He has no time, but he does this because he feels that Theophil has a great heart, full of love and prayer. And he was not mistaken about him. Among all his disciples, it was Theophil, this blind monk, who would become first not only in spiritual life but also in learning, compensating for the lack of sight with love and diligence.
He reached the stature of that elder from the Patericon who, because of his great goodness, no longer knew what malice was.
“Father Serafim dictated and read to me whole books, texts from the Philokalia, liturgical books, and the Prologue. He was a man who brought joy to people. This says enough, and nothing more needs to be added. And yet, I would add that he reached the stature of that elder from the Patericon who, because of his great goodness, no longer knew what malice was. Such was Father Serafim. Even enemies, if he had any (though he did not), could not have found any flaw in him.”
Miracles
A nine-year-old boy from the village closest to the monastery had a sore eye. His parents took him to the doctor and he underwent treatment, but despite this, the condition worsened to the point that, when they went for a check-up, the doctor said that the eye could no longer be saved and needed to be removed. To see one’s child lose an eye at an age when other children are occupied with their carefree games and joys is a tragedy for any parent. And so, the parents, as is needed in a hopeless situation, turned to God. They were from the village of Sâmbăta de Sus and confessed to Father Serafim, so they rushed to him as a last resort.
“Let’s anoint him with holy oil!” said the elder.
When the anointing was over, he asked the mother:
“What do you ask of God?”
“To restore my child’s sight!”
Father Serafim looked at the boy with his gentle gaze and said:
“You will see better with this eye than others see with both!”
And as the father said, so it happened: the child was completely healed.
This healing was not the only one. In the same village, a girl fell ill, and no doctor could help her. In desperation, the parents went to a priest who promised them healing but only asked for money. They were simple people with no money to spare, so they went to the monastery and poured out their sorrow to Father Seraphim.
They entered his cell and laid at his feet all the money they could gather, along with a prayer note for health.
“Leave the prayer note with me and take the money back; buy clothes for your children!”
Father Seraphim prayed for her for several days, and the girl recovered.
Little by little, news of the miracles performed by the abbot of Sâmbăta de Sus spread throughout the Făgăraș region.
“Father, we consider you a saint,” said his disciple and friend, Father Theophil (Părăian).
“Listen, I’m going to give you a good beating!” Father Seraphim replied with a smile.
But what Father Theophil said was what everyone who visited the monastery believed.
Father Seraphim celebrated the Divine Liturgy every day for fifty years
Father Seraphim also had the gift of clairvoyance, though he rarely demonstrated it:
“I know what you are thinking about when you walk from the cell to the church, but I don’t want to tell anyone, so I won’t completely lose my peace,” Father Seraphim would tell the pilgrims.
The years passed, filling him with love for Christ. Although his strength was fading, he did not spare himself. No one ever saw him sit down in church—e always stood, either on his feet, or more rarely, on his knees.
“Tell Father Seraphim to sit down, or he will die from the pain in his legs,” Father Arsenie (Boca) sent him a message from the Drăgănescu church, which he was painting at the time, but Father Seraphim did not listen. How could he sit before God?
“He filled us with a heavenly peace,” the believers said.
“Be reconciled with yourself, and heaven and earth will be with you,” he told his disciples. And indeed, in his heart, they were united.
In the last weeks of his life, Father Arsenie’s prophecy came true: Father Seraphim’s legs could no longer support him. He was bedridden, but even in his illness, he continued to receive monks who sought his advice.
“Let’s take care of Father Seraphim; he is a kind spiritual father who understands the weakness of human nature,” Father Arsenie (Boca) said to those who came to him. “If Father Seraphim dies, the Sâmbăta Monastery will be orphaned.”
The Dormition Church of Sâmbăta Monastery, 1698. Photo: coltisorderomania.ro
He died in the hospital on December 20, 1990, after surgery, having lived to see his homeland free from communists. His body was brought to the monastery and his funeral was served in the same ancient church that the Habsburg cannons could not bring down. The small church could not hold the vast crowd of believers who came to bid him farewell. He was buried just before Christmas.
“He was an angel in the flesh,” said a nun who had been his disciple.
This is the best definition of Father Seraphim’s holiness.
