Early in the morning on October 23, we went to the 13th century Monastery of Sopocani (i.e. “well-spring”), where, in the Cathedral Church of the Holy Trinity, I was to be principal celebrant at the Divine Liturgy. The Monastery brethren gave us a very warm welcome, and did not want us to leave. We would have been happy to stay longer, but we were extremely pressed for time: we had to be on time at the Kosovo border to meet the representatives of the security forces who were to escort us to the monasteries in Kosovo.
At the border, I was advised to remove my skuffia, lest I draw too much attention to myself on the part of the Albanian Muslims. For the same reason, Matushka Nektaria, a nun from Moscow who had joined our group, put on a red scarf. Three cars drove ahead of our bus: In the first were local Albanian military police, in the second, UN personnel, and in the third, KFOR troops. As our bus was emblazoned with the Belgrade address of a tourist agency, it was not difficult for the local residents to realize where we were coming from. Everywhere in Kosovo, Albanians looked at us with anger, and one of them threw a rock at our bus. For our return trip, Italian soldiers gave us a little Italian flag, which we affixed to the windshield.
One should note that Serbians cannot be indifferent to the fate of their ancestral land, land which Albanians have gradually settled, and constitute over 95% of its population. After the NATO operations of 1999, over 100 Orthodox churches in Kosovo were destroyed. Going through Kosovo, we saw minarets everywhere, but a cupola with a Cross was a very rare sight. It seemed to us as if we had landed in some Turkish province, where Slavic speech was almost never heard.
As in Bosnia, the conflict in Kosovo is a religious one, when anti-Christian forces strive to solve their problems with Muslim hands, carelessly failing to take into account that tomorrow those very same hands might turn their weapons against them.
Glory to God, we reached Decani, our first stop in Kosovo, without any incident. Waiting for us was the most-kind Hieromonk Savva, whose acquaintance I had made earlier when he was accompanying Bishop Artemije on visits to Washington. Fr. Savva had garnered international attention during the military campaign in Kosovo, by using his monastery website to transmit news about the Orthodox of the region. He also helped offer shelter to Albanian and Serbian refugees within the monastery. This erudite monk told us in considerable detail about the Cathedral Church and about the life and history of the Monastery.
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It is no accident that Decani is known as Visokij [great, exalted]. It is the pearl of Serbian Orthodoxy, established with the most exalted inspiration and the hands of a master, during the flowering of the Serbian state in the Middle Ages. |
Pilgrims with part of the brotherhood of the Decani Monastery in Kosovo. |
The main church is in fact extremely tall, measuring 20 meters in height. Its magnificence and beauty instantly stuns and fascinates you. All of the walls, soaring tall columns and cupolas reaching to the skies are frescoed in the spirit of Orthodox Byzantine culture. They have perfectly retained their fresh, bright colors. The wall-decorations of Decani number over 1,000 scenes and individual figures. The names of the iconographers are unknown. In but one spot, there is a signature, “The sinful Serdge.” Underscoring the great antiquity of the church is an enormous hammered brass panikadilo [chandelier], the vigil lamps hanging from chains many meters in length.
Decani is a men's monastery. The brotherhood numbers about 30 monks under the direction of Archimandrite Theodosij. The services made an unforgettable, truly mystical impression on us. During some of the services, the panikadilo, with its multitude of lighted candles, slowly turns while the vigil lamps before the icons rock back and forth and the monks beautifully intone Byzantine chants.
Miraculously, the monastery survived the NATO bombing of Yugoslavia in 1999. One bomb landed on its territory, but did not explode. Another fell on the outer wall, causing damage to some workshops.
Ancient manuscripts record that the Turks, having seized Kosovo after gaining a military victory over the Serbs, were planning to desecrate the Decani church. When the Turkish pasha approached the gates, a huge stone lion that adorned the church entrance fell, crushing the impious one. Terrified, the Turks fled the holy site.
In recent times, Decani had possessed a most rich vestry. Among its relics were ancient icons, extremely rare books of manuscripts, and wonderful church utensils dating back to Byzantine times. All of this had been removed from Decani and taken to Belgrade even before the bombing of Kosovo.
Today, the ancient monastery is under siege, and is under the protection of Italian forces. By day, the monastery is visited by people from various countries whom fate has brought to Kosovo. Germans, Spaniards, Indians, and Americans come to marvel at the wonderful creations the hands of men made to glorify God, the Pantocrator. For Serbians, gaining ready access to their favorite monastery has become extremely difficult.
And it was here that I had the opportunity to offer the Bloodless Sacrifice. I served in Church Slavonic, while monks on two kliroi responded with ancient Byzantine chant in Serbian. After the Liturgy, we, along with the UN representative and the commander of the Italian forces were served a large breakfast. After the meal, the prior, Archimandrite Theodosij, who had returned from Belgrade the night before, addressed us with warm words of welcome. He conveyed his thanks to our parish in Washington for providing a home for the Decani humanitarian fund, and he gave me a wonderful icon of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, made by one of the glorious talented iconographers of the monastery.
After breakfast, we had only a little time to see some of the monastery workshop and domestic management facilities. We stopped at the woodworking shop, where woodcarvings are made, primarily for Serbian churches - both in the homeland and in the diaspora - and for churches in Greece. We also stopped at the iconography studio. I ordered from the iconographers, two icons for our cathedral: analogion-size icons of contemporary saints – Holy Hierarch Nikolaj Velimirovic and Venerable Justin Popovic.
Thanking God for everything we had seen and heard in Decani, we went on to the women’s Monastery of Gracanica.
