Turning Despair Into Hope: Elder Arsenie and a Moment of Eternity

Standing in liturgy this Sunday, a wave of despair washed over me. A multitude of decisions I wish I could take back swirled in my mind and created a blinding haze of despondency. Bad habits, hard to break, overwhelmed me. My body, worn and broken, reminded me that the fitness of youth was now a distant memory. In that moment of moody darkness, my gaze lifted to the cross with Christ upon it in the corner of the church’s nave. I thought of the thief being crucified next to our Savior.

“There were also two others, criminals, led with Him to be put to death. And when they had come to the place called Calvary, there they crucified Him, and the criminals, one on the right hand and the other on the left. Then Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.’

And they divided His garments and cast lots. And the people stood looking on. But even the rulers with them sneered, saying, ‘He saved others; let Him save Himself if He is the Christ, the chosen of God.’

The soldiers also mocked Him, coming and offering Him sour wine, and saying, ‘If You are the King of the Jews, save Yourself.’

And an inscription also was written over Him in letters of Greek, Latin, and Hebrew: THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS.

Then one of the criminals who were hanged blasphemed Him, saying, ‘If You are the Christ, save Yourself and us.’

But the other, answering, rebuked him, saying, ‘Do you not even fear God, seeing you are under the same condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we receive the due reward of our deeds; but this Man has done nothing wrong.’ Then he said to Jesus, ‘Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.’

And Jesus said to him, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.’”

(Luke 23:32-43)

Despair can be a gift. A guide to an eternal place, it offers us a moment of decision: to find rest in surrender, to see paradise even in the bleakest of moments. Sometimes, it begins with the simple yet profound act of accepting that which we cannot control.

Torture breaks most men. Yet, paradoxically, it can be a direct path to God. In 1958, Elder Arsenie was arrested in the dead of night in the Romanian countryside and brought to the hellish confines of Aiud prison. Romanian prison’s at this time were a breeding ground for human evil. They offered inmates impossible choices: torture and kill your friend, or be tortured and killed yourself. Malnourished, beaten, mocked—faith itself was desecrated as feces replaced the Lord’s Supper.

And yet, here, underground in a prison removed from all human dignity, Elder Arsenie met God. He faced his torment with an intensity of purpose, striving daily to conquer eternity. As he reflected:

“The objective is to be able to conquer Eternity on a daily basis. This is the ideal. The idea of becoming somebody in life—a professor, etc.—is a human goal, not the ultimate goal. The aim is to serve the highest possible Good. If you do not know how to serve God, Who is Eternal, you will get stuck. You have to be attentive: ‘Wait a minute! Since this doesn’t pertain to Eternity, I won’t do it!’”

Whether we feel helpless, like the thief on the cross, or buried in the darkness of a prison cell, eternity is always within reach. It is only an intention away. And as hard as it may be to believe, those moments of utter despair might be the closest we’ll ever come to living and loving as we were created to.

Elder Arsenie described his imprisonment as a spiritual academy. Reflecting on his suffering, he said:

“No other means of preparation could offer such possibilities for growing in one’s faith, for spiritual deepening, for a living relationship with God as were offered by the tribulations of imprisonment. I bless that period of time.”

He spoke of a camaraderie that defied death, a bond forged in suffering and self-sacrifice:

“Those of us who succeeded in knowing each other on the cross, so to speak, remained united. The image I have of my imprisonment is very much bound up with that of the little group, in which I felt very well. There was a great camaraderie among us. Everyone was prepared for death…. What matters is the way in which each one of us accepted suffering. I would like to canonize all of them, because they were sincere and didn’t hesitate to sacrifice themselves. They all died, one by one. With a joy that is difficult to explain, I commemorate them all as spiritual fighters.”

Your despair is a doorway and there is one direction to choose: humbly, on your knees, toward God, and toward those who will walk with you through the fire. You are not alone. We will survive and pray with tears together where the truth of our existence will be revealed.

The moment is now and our Lord is waiting. Eternity is right here, in this moment. As the thief did, all you must do is turn toward God and ask to enter His Kingdom. When the door opens, walk through it with purpose.