SM. Richardis Nováková, SCB
In May of this year, it has been twenty years since the death of the Carmelite Father Melichar Karásek, a long-time pastor in Kostelní Vydří during the times of totalitarianism (1950–85). On the occasion of this anniversary, we asked Sister Richardis for a few memories, who spent part of her childhood in the school in Vydří and thus knew the local Carmelites back in the days when many of us were either not yet born or had not yet made our way to Kostelní Vydří.
I met Father Melichar Karásek in 1946 when he came to Kostelní Vydří from Germany, where he experienced his religious formation during the war. Until then, I had only heard that he was the oldest of the four sons of Mr. Kostelník Karásek, whose family lived in a cottage by the forest and thus belonged to the residents of "Kopeček," as the upper church and its surroundings were called.
Father Melichar – as we all called him – appeared to be a shy, timid person, but calm and composed, with a kind gaze and a smile. He did not have the gift of speech, and his long stay in the German environment left marks on his Czech expression. Sometimes he could not quickly find the right Czech word. However, this improved over the following years.
I experienced the 1950s, when monasteries were being liquidated by the regime, in Prague. I heard about what was happening in Vydří from relatives who visited me. Back then, our order did not allow us to go home, so I only came to Kostelní Vydří in 1968 when, on the recommendation of the Second Vatican Council, our congregation accepted some modifications, including changes to religious attire and the practice of visiting relatives for apostolic reasons. That year, my mother also passed away. All three Carmelite fathers from Vydří were present at her funeral, which the whole family appreciated greatly.
Our congregation opened a novitiate in Moravské Budějovice at the beginning of 1969, which was relatively close to Kostelní Vydří. And because the help of the Virgin Mary is essential for the spiritual growth of the sisters, it seemed desirable to go as soon as possible on a private pilgrimage to Kostelní Vydří. There I met Father Melichar again, who faithfully guarded and patiently cared for the pilgrimage church. It needed constant minor repairs, the linden trees had grown considerably and were damaging the roof covering, and the harsh winter weather was affecting various parts of the church. Father Melichar did what he could, as long as church secretaries and conservators allowed him. Also, in line with the liturgical reforms of the Second Vatican Council, he arranged for a new altar and removed the grille separating the presbytery from the church nave.
During visits to the pilgrimage site, we had free access to the rectory and were always warmly welcomed by Father Melichar. Once in the summer, when mushrooms were growing, we collected some in the surrounding forests around Kopeček. Father Melichar allowed us to prepare them for lunch in the kitchen and then accepted our invitation to his table. At that time, I noticed that the household cat had settled on a pillow on the sofa behind the table. I expressed my disapproval of her behavior with a comment that the cat belonged outside the door and not at the table. The father looked at me with such a sad gaze and said, "You know, when a person is here all day and night alone, every living creature that breathes beside him is dear to him." I felt ashamed of my remarks when I realized at that moment that he was indeed lonely in that large house, he had no permanent housekeeper, and he had to do most things, including cooking, himself. But I think that spiritually he was maturing during that time. Once, while I was taking care of something at the rectory in Nové Syrovice, where there was still a relatively young priest but had suffered a heart attack, I immediately noticed that he had a picture of the Vydří Virgin Mary in the hallway. I expressed my joyful surprise, and he said to me, "I often go to the Virgin Mary and also to Father Melichar. He is very wise, has suffered a lot, even if it doesn't seem like it, and therefore he always advises correctly. There are more of us who go to him."
I know that he was always joyfully happy when Father Metoděj could also come to Vydří during the pilgrimages. It was certainly a support for him to be with a fellow brother for a few days. The prior was no longer alive back then.
Despite his mildness and kindness, Father Melichar was still harassed by the church secretary. When I arrived there once – I don't know exactly, perhaps it was already in the 1980s – he sadly told me that the church secretary had banned the all-night adoration before the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, which used to be attended by many. He reportedly told him that such customs from Orava would not be brought to Bohemia. By then, however, the area of Dačice had been transferred to the South Bohemian region. I laughed at that and told him, "It's a pity you didn't know that we brought that custom with my mother from Křemešník, that is, from Bohemia. We were there on pilgrimage in 1947 and we really liked that night adoration. So it was also established there with the approval of Prior Valeny in Vydří."
As the years went by, during another visit of mine, he expressed some complaints about health issues, saying he had already asked for some help from the consistory. I later heard that he had suffered a heart attack but also received help in the form of Father Pavel Klimovič. From him, I later learned about the death of Father Melichar. It occurred on the feast of Pentecost in 1985. After Mass in the church, he reportedly did not want to have breakfast, saying he did not feel well and that he would go outside to pray the rosary. There, at the main gate of the monastery, Father Klimovič found him dead after returning from Volfířov. Apparently, another heart attack ended his life, and the Virgin Mary, with that rosary in his hand, led him to the Carmelite convent in eternal bliss.
