Глава X. Последние дни жизни старца иеросхимонаха Амвросия, его кончина и погребение

I am already hungry, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have died, I have kept the faith (2 Tim. 4:6-7) About the last days of Fr. Ambrose, we will speak, guided by the notes and stories of the Shamordin sisters, if possible - in more detail, day after day. September 21st was Saturday. As usual, the hieromonk came from the monastery to serve the elder’s vigil, but in the morning the priest felt weaker than usual, and by the end of the day he was so weak that he could not hear the singing and felt chills. “Father has weakened, father has fallen ill,” was heard from all parts of the monastery. Everyone was greatly alarmed, well aware that for a weak, almost eighty-year-old old man, it would take little to ruin his life. On the other hand, the idea that the priest could die was so terrible and seemed so incredible that no one stopped to consider it. Everyone reassured themselves that “God is merciful; Yes, the priest shouldn’t die, he’s still needed.” On the 22nd, Sunday, the priest began to complain of pain in his ears; despite the fact that he continued to engage in monastic affairs, even receive some visitors, joked and was generally cheerful. The next day, the 23rd, the pain in the elder’s ears intensified; he began to hear poorly and received very few visitors, as it was difficult for him to speak. And everyone asked him to give himself rest, but the priest got up, walked around the cell and took several people for a blessing. In the evening, the elder ordered it to be read aloud to him. When asked if it would be difficult for him to listen with pain in his ears, he did not answer, thought for a few minutes and said: “This is the last test - I have lost my hearing and voice.” The elder’s voice, however, had long since begun to weaken, so that by evening he sometimes spoke in a whisper. For the next two days, the elder was still in the same position and hardly took anything, as he had completely lost his hearing and voice. From morning to evening the people did not leave the porch of his cell. How much sorrow there was, how many tears were shed! Some couldn't wait long; Through the cell attendant they asked in absentia for blessings and answers to their questions. In order not to bother the priest with conversations, in extreme cases questions were asked to him in writing. On the 26th, Thursday, the elder felt even worse - he complained of severe pain in his ears, head, face and throughout his body. There was an abscess in one of his ears. The deterioration of the old man’s health greatly confused everyone. It was decided to call Dr. Babushkin, who had previously treated Fr., by telegram from Moscow. Ambrose. Father agreed to this. On the 27th, the abscess in my ear burst, and the pain gradually subsided. In the evening, a Moscow doctor arrived and, after examining the patient, reassured everyone, saying that there was nothing dangerous, that it was influenza. He prescribed complete calm to the patient and gave him some sedatives. By the way, having visited the elder before, this doctor always said: “I come here for the sake of form; if it were an ordinary patient, then I would say that he has half an hour to live; but that's about. Ambrose - he can live for years.” On the 28th, Fr. was in good health. Ambrose continued to improve. On the 29th, Sunday, the priest suddenly came out of his cell and said that he had forgotten to pray before the icon of the Queen of Heaven “Joy of All Who Sorrow.” At his request, a prayer service was served in front of this icon in his cell. Sisters and lay people crowded at the door to pray for the recovery of their dear father. On October 1, the elder said to one of his spiritual daughters: “I can no longer arrange anything for you; I gave you to the Queen of Heaven.” The doctor, having stayed with the elder until October 2, left for a while. The elder himself escorted the doctor to another room and talked to him a lot. The first two days after that the patient felt well. And although the pain in the ears did not decrease, and small abscesses appeared in one ear and then in the other, there was no fever. Father continued to use the medications prescribed by the doctor, and everyone in the monastery was calm. On the 4th, Friday, the elder said that the pain in his head was getting worse, and in the evening he had a fever. All the days following that he had a fever every other day, and he spent most of the day as if in oblivion. However, despite his extreme weakness, at times he was able to get out of bed without outside help, walked around the room and even called on some of the people he needed and made orders for buildings. On this day, one of the elder’s closest disciples, Hieromonk Joseph, who was in Shamordin, wished to confess to him; but seeing that the elder was very weak, he was afraid to disturb him. Meanwhile, as soon as he made a small hint that he would like to confess, the priest immediately put on the epitrachelion and brace and himself handed him the confession book. And Father Joseph had the good fortune to confess to him that day for the last time, after which, saying goodbye to the elder, he left for the monastery. On the night that followed, according to the story of Fr. Joseph, for some reason he could not fall asleep for a long time and at that time he heard that someone said: “The old man will die.” The words were heard clearly. On October 6, the elder had a vigil. Halfway through the all-night vigil, the priest felt ill and began to breathe heavily. All the doors were opened wide. Everyone was scared. A difficult time has begun. The elder’s spiritual children did not leave the waiting room and silently, with bated breath, awaited news. Almost all the time, akathists were read in turn. On October 6th the following remarkable incident occurred. After lunch, the elder called and said to the cell attendant who came in: “Go and see who is there on the porch asking to come back to the monastery.” When the cell attendant said that there were a lot of people there, the elder again sternly told him: “Go now and find out.” A few minutes later the cell attendant returned and said that there was indeed a former Optina novice standing there, Brother M., who had left Optina for Athos, and now, already in secular dress, had come to ask the priest for advice on which monastery he should enter again. Father immediately ordered to call him, spoke with him for several minutes and blessed him to go to the Glinsk Hermitage. On October 7, the abbess of the monastery experienced unbearable melancholy. Her soul was in such a desolate state that nowhere and nothing could give her the slightest consolation. This, as she put it, was like a foretaste of hellish torment. Entering the cell of the sick old man, she explained to him her terribly difficult condition. It turned out that the elder himself experienced the same inexpressibly painful temptation. Probably, he was providentially allowed to experience, for some time, what seemed like abandonment by God, in order to give him a full understanding of the poverty and weakness of human nature. After listening to the abbess, the elder said: “I feel something that I have never experienced in my entire life.” According to the elder Fr. Joseph, the priest at that time was languishing with the sorrows and sins of his many spiritual children. On one of the elder’s dying days, his confessor, Fr. Theodore said to him: “Father, you are dying, to whom are you leaving your monastery?” The elder answered him with the following words: “I leave the monastery to the Queen of Heaven; and I gilded my cross.” On October 8, at six o’clock in the morning, the elder said that he was very chilly, and his face had changed greatly. A few minutes later the patient became feverish, and he forgot. An hour later he asked for fish soup, but suddenly became so weak that he could hardly name what he wanted. The fever intensified and delirium began. They immediately sent to the monastery for the monastery leader, Fr. Hieromonk Anatoly and for Fr. Hieroschemamonk Joseph. The latter soon arrived and upon arrival immediately hurriedly walked to the elder. Leaving him a few minutes later, he said to those present: “It’s in vain that you crowd here: after all, the elder does not speak, and there is no hope for his recovery.” Soon Fr. arrived. Anatoly. All that day the patient grew weaker and weaker, so that he could no longer speak. His fever intensified, reaching 40 degrees. Probably, at this time the elder was experiencing excruciating pain in his body, which did not allow him to lie quietly in bed, because he kept giving a sign to those who were with him. Joseph with his cell attendant Fr. Alexander to be raised; but as soon as they lifted him up, he again gave a sign to be put into bed. At the same time, he was shaking as if in a fever. In the evening the Moscow doctor returned, but already found the old man hopeless. He suddenly felt so bad that they thought he was already coming to an end, and therefore Fr. Joseph read the exit note for him. It was finally decided to honor the elder. While preparations were underway for the unction, it was already 11 o’clock in the evening. And here is the head of the hermitage, Fr. Anatoly with Fr. Joseph and the elder's confessor, Fr. Theodore began the rite of blessing of oil, during which the priest lay unconscious. His heavy, hoarse breathing, probably from accumulated phlegm, which the old man did not have the strength to cough out, could be heard two rooms away. The sisters stood in the waiting room and prayed. When the unction was over, the prayer books standing there entered the elder in threes to look at their fading luminary and say goodbye forever to their dear, loving father, to whom they were accustomed to resort in every sorrow, and who always so consoled and encouraged them. Barely holding back their sobs, afraid to break the silence, the sisters silently bowed at the elder’s feet and kissed his motionless hand, which was burning with fire, looked into his face, wanting to more clearly imprint the dear features in themselves, then immediately went out the opposite door. Some still harbored a faint hope that perhaps this was not the end, perhaps these eyes would open again and look at them tenderly, perhaps this hand would sign the sign of the cross over them more than once or pat the guilty one on the head with fatherly love. But no, it was a vain hope. After 12 o'clock at night, the old man began to perspire, and the fever began to subside. This cheered everyone up somewhat. Then he regained consciousness, and this moment was used to introduce him to the Holy Mysteries of Christ. It was about two o'clock in the morning. Introduced by Fr. Joseph. That night, one of the elder’s close disciples entered the priest’s room several times with another nun to look at the sick man, and they were both struck by the unusually bright expression on the elder’s face. His eyes were fixed intently into the distance, and he seemed to be talking with someone visible only to him. The whole next day the old man did not lose consciousness, drank several sips of coffee, got out of bed when it was necessary to move his bed away from the wall, and even took a few steps towards his table. But that was the shortest time. When the abbess approached him, he was already lying down again and, looking at her tenderly, quietly said: “It’s bad, mother!” He expressed the most touching gratitude these days to everyone who surrounded him and looked after him, or who especially worked hard to carry out his orders. So, while still able, he once lovingly hugged Fr. Joel and spoke to him for a long time, but so quietly that he could not understand anything. Having learned about the elder’s excessive weakness, the Optina rector, Fr. Archimandrite Isaac and Hieromonk Macarius came on this day (October 9) to say goodbye to him. At the sight of the extremely exhausted patient, they both cried. Father recognized them and, fixing a deep, intent gaze on them, raised his hand and took off his cap. All this day, as on previous days, the sisters continuously prayed with tears in the church before the miraculous face of the Mother of God. Prayers with kneeling were served non-stop, and all the admirers of the elder, as one person, screamed and asked for recovery to their dear father. But the Lord judged differently!.. And on this day, so sad for Shamordin, we suddenly receive a telegram from the Kaluga governor that on October 10, the Kaluga Bishop Vitaly is leaving Kaluga for the Shamordin monastery. Everyone in the monastery knew the purpose of this visit, and therefore this news led all the sisters of the monastery into extreme confusion. And it became more and more difficult for the old man. By evening he again developed a strong fever, and from six o'clock he no longer raised his head and lay in one position. All night his breathing was heavy. The eyes were directed upward, and the lips moved quickly. Apparently, the patient whispered a prayer until the morning. October 10th arrived. By the morning of this day, the elder’s strength had completely left him. He lay motionless. The eyes dropped down and stopped at some point. The lips stopped moving. The pulse became weaker and weaker. Breathing was rare, but calm. Seeing that the elder was very close to the end, Fr. Joseph hurried to go to the monastery to take from there the things kept in the elder’s cell for his burial - the old fly robe in which he was once clothed when he was tonsured, and a hair shirt, and also the canvas shirt of Elder Macarius, to whom Father Fr. Ambrose had deep devotion and respect throughout his life. On this shirt there was the handwritten inscription of Elder Ambrose: “After my death, it is imperative to put it on me.” Needless to say, in these last days of the elder’s life, the brethren of Optina, alarmed by the deterioration in the elder’s painful situation, gathered in even greater numbers than before. Many were ready to stay forever, if not for obedience and the shortness of the vacation. When the elder departed, in the cell where the dying man lay were: Fr. Isaiah (now sacristan in Optina), Fr. Alexander (now Fr. Anatoly - confessor of Optina and Shamordin), Fr. Joel and others. When news was received in Optina about the departure of the Right Reverend, Fr. Xenophon, then treasurer, and now abbot of the monastery. Having left Optina, he learned on the way that the bishop would stop for the night at the Trinity Buttercup Monastery. Taking advantage of his free time, Fr. Xenophon hurried to Shamordino. Here the most bleak news awaited him: the elder was coming to an end. Having joined his Optina brethren, Fr. Xenophon did not leave the dying old man until the very last minute and was honored to witness his blessed death. At 11 o'clock in the afternoon, the elder's confessor, Fr. Theodore read the canon of the Mother of God for the last time on the exodus of the soul and overshadowed the elder with the cross. The old man's face became deathly pale. The breathing became shorter and shorter. Finally, he took a deep breath. About two minutes later it happened again. Then, according to eyewitnesses, the elder raised his right hand, folding it to make the sign of the cross, brought it to his forehead, then to his chest, to his right shoulder and, bringing it to his left, he hit it hard on his left shoulder, apparently because it cost him a lot of effort. Then he sighed for the third and last time... It was exactly half past 12 o'clock in the afternoon... The old man's earthly life ended. Those who surrounded the bed of the peacefully deceased elder stood for a long time, afraid to disturb the solemn moment of separation of the righteous soul from the body. Everyone seemed to be in a daze, not believing themselves, not understanding whether this was a dream or the truth. But his holy soul had already flown off to another world in order to appear before the throne of the Most High in the radiance of the love with which he was filled on earth. His old face was bright and calm. An unearthly smile illuminated him. As soon as everyone came to their senses, a terrible cry and sobbing arose. The news of the elder’s death spread throughout the monastery with the speed of lightning, and the soul-tearing cries of the Shamorda nuns merged into one common terrifying groan of helplessness and hopelessness. Then this first outburst of terrible grief subsided a little and turned into quiet grief. Father Xenophon, immediately after the death of the elder, went out into the neighboring rooms and, in a voice barely audible from excitement, announced the great grief to the admirers of the elder who were crowding there, and hurried with this sad news, without delay, to Optina. The sad roar of a large bell announced to the Optina residents about a sad event for them, and the brethren, plunged into unspeakable grief, flocked to the cathedral for the first “Alleluia” for the newly deceased Elder Ambrose, and Fr. Joseph, having taken everything necessary for cleaning, immediately left, hastening to rush to the cooled body of his dear mentor, in order to serve him for the last time and kiss, if possible, his still warm hand. Meanwhile, in Shamordin, preparations began for the elder’s body for burial. Just at this time, Hieromonk Joseph returned from the monastery with the things needed to hide the elder’s body and with the monk Gabriel, who was obliged to hide the bodies of the dead for obedience. First, according to the elder’s will, they put on him the canvas shirt of Elder Macarius, then on top of this shirt a hair shirt, and then, according to custom, other monastic clothes and a schema. While the monks were tidying the body, they read the Psalter nearby. The hidden body on a mattress was carried out into the abbess’s hall by the hands of the elder’s disciples. Seeing the lifeless, cold body of their dear father, the sisters again burst into loud sobs. In the hall, the body was laid on a prepared table, and immediately the first requiem service was performed for the repose of the newly deceased elder Hieroschemamonk Ambrose. Immediately, on the occasion of the death of the elder, many telegrams were sent to different parts of Russia to all admirers especially close to him and his spiritual children. A telegram was also sent to Kaluga to the local bishop, His Eminence Vitaly, but it no longer found him in Kaluga. At the very moment of the death of Elder Ambrose, Vladyka left Kaluga, heading to the Shamorda community. As a sick man, having driven only 28 versts from Kaluga, he stopped for rest and overnight at the Przemysl Trinity Buttercup Monastery, located on the way. It was here that he received the news of the death of the elder. The Bishop and the abbot of the monastery sat in the hall, talking about various subjects; By the way, the bishop expressed displeasure that the elder, as he put it, did not have obedience to the highest authority. Just at this time the cell attendant gave Fr. telegram to the rector. He, not suspecting anything special, immediately opened the telegram in the presence of the bishop. But as soon as he read that Elder Hieroschemamonk Ambrose had died, his hands trembled and tears flowed from his eyes. Looking at him, the bishop asked: “What is it?” - “Sad news, your Eminence!” - “What is it?” – Instead of answering, the rector sent a telegram to the Reverend. Looking at it, the bishop said: “What is this? Has the elder died? “As you can see,” answered the abbot. The Bishop was amazed. He turned to St. icons, clasped his hands and exclaimed: “My God! What is this? The fate of the Lord is inscrutable!” The next morning, instead of the Shamordino community, the Right Reverend went to Optina Pustyn. Here he learned that the elder died at half past 12 o'clock in the afternoon, at the very time when he was getting into the carriage to leave Kaluga. “Now I see that it was the elder who invited me to the funeral service. Bishops do not perform funeral services for ordinary hieromonks; but this elder is so great that the bishop must certainly perform the funeral service for him. The doctors released me on the condition that I not serve anywhere; but now I consider it my duty to perform the funeral service for the elder,” said the bishop. Meanwhile, in Shamordino, the body of Elder Ambrose was transferred by the hieromonks into a simple coffin, upholstered with simple black cloth, and half-covered with a simple cover common to all monastic dead. The sisters alternately read the Psalter, and every time the name of “our newly departed father, the elder hieroschemamonk Ambrose” was pronounced, everyone in the hall bowed to the ground. The next day, October 11, funeral liturgies were celebrated for Elder Ambrose both in the Shamorda community and in Optina Pustyn, and in many other places. At the second hour of the day, the last requiem service was served over the body in the cell, and then the coffin with the body of the deceased was carried out of the abbot’s building into the church, where the reading of the Psalter continued, and requiem services were sung incessantly, with the inconsolable crying of the spiritual children and admirers of the elder who filled the church. As a result of the telegrams sent out and the news spreading, admirers of the elder began to arrive in Shamordino from all sides, wanting to attend his burial, so that in total up to eight thousand people had accumulated in Shamordino by the day of the burial. Meanwhile, out of love and respect for the deceased elder, a misunderstanding arose between Optina and Shamordin on the question of where to bury the body of the deceased, dear to both sides, in Optina or in Shamordin. By order of the Holy Synod, the body was to be interred in the Optina Hermitage. Throughout the following night, October 12, memorial services were continuously performed at the coffin of the deceased, at the request of the sisters and visitors. The people, as long as the body of the deceased was discovered, brought scarves, pieces of canvas and other things, asking them to be attached to the body of the elder, and accepted them back with faith and reverence, as a shrine. Some mothers put their small children to it. On October 12, Saturday, the rector of the Likhvinsky Intercession of the Good Monastery, Abbot Agapit 67, who arrived at the burial of the elder, his former clerk and disciple, served a conciliar prayer service with an akathist before the miraculous Kazan Icon of the Mother of God 68, a liturgy and a requiem service over the elder’s tomb. Then private funeral services continued all day and night. On October 13, Sunday, His Grace Vitaly scheduled a funeral service in Bose for the deceased elder Hieroschemamonk Ambrose. The day was clear and warm, which are rare in October. The bright rays of the morning sun illuminated the quiet Shamordino monastery and, penetrating through the windows into the church, played merrily on the golden decorations of the iconostasis and on the large candlesticks that stood near the coffin. The entire church and the square in front of the church were filled with a dense crowd of people. Everything had the appearance not of the presence of a deceased person in the church, but of some unusually bright, spiritual triumph. Finally, at half past eight, the ringing of bells announced the approach of the archpastor, who had an overnight stay in Optina Hermitage. Having approached the building where a room had been prepared for him, he asked: “Where is the body of the deceased elder?” Having learned that it was in the church, the bishop wanted first of all to bow to it and, without entering the house, went on foot to the church. Meanwhile, the church did not expect the Eminence at that time and sang a requiem. The Bishop unexpectedly entered the church just at the time when, at the end of the immaculates, they sang “Alleluia” and, thus, the words of the deceased elder, who answered the sisters’ question about what to sing to the Bishop when he entered the church, were fulfilled: “We will sing Alleluia to him.” The sisters, seeing the Eminence in the church, could not withstand the onslaught of memories and burst into tears loudly. Then, having come to their senses, they began to sing the entrance to the bishop. The Bishop went to the altar and kissed St. to the throne and to St. icons, went up to the coffin, bowed low, made the sign of the cross over the deceased three times and left the church. Some time later, the Right Reverend again arrived at the church to serve the Divine Liturgy and this time was met in the established order: two archimandrites, two abbots and four hieromonks who were preparing to concelebrate with him. During the liturgy, the choir of bishops sang on the right choir, and the sisters of the community sang on the left. After the sacramental verse, with the blessing of the Right Reverend, a student of the Moscow Theological Academy, Hieromonk Gregory (Borisoglebsky), who had deliberately arrived from Sergiev Posad for the burial of Elder Ambrose, came to the pulpit and uttered a beautiful word that clearly outlined the significance of the late elder both in particular for the Optina Hermitage and the Shamordino community, and in general for monasticism and for all over Russia. The preacher's words were often drowned out by the sobs of the listeners. The preacher said: “Do not be surprised at this large gathering of praying people... In this poor monastery lived a man whom all of holy Rus' knew, to whom countless crowds of people from all over it had long been coming... The name of this man was known both in the royal chambers and in the village huts. This is Father, Elder Ambrose, the great shepherd-sorrower of the Russian land. It was he who attracted this great crowd of his admirers here today... What were the merits of this man? He returned the image of God to fallen people and taught repentance. The sad man of the Russian land knew how to make those who had forgotten tears since childhood cry, cry with tears of tenderness, tears of repentance, tears of rebirth to a new spiritual life... And therefore sorrow, holy Rus'! You have lost in this hermit, poor in spirit and body, your great sad man, who loved you with all the power of Christian love, gave you his whole life and, one might say, sacrificed it to you. You won't come to Fr. anymore. Ambrose with his sorrows and sorrows for consolation, you cannot send your Dostoevskys and Tolstoys to him to learn from a simple monk the highest science: the ability to live like a human being, like a Christian. Weep bitterly, holy Optina monastery! You have lost your elder, who was the bearer of the holy traditions of eldership, who has adorned you for a long time... No longer will you, Optina monks, in moments when the weight of the monastic cross more strongly crush the strength of your spirit, when your soul grieves and yearns deeper than usual, go to dear Father Fr. for sure relief. Ambrose. Cry bitter tears too, you, the local Shamorda community! In the deceased you have lost your spiritual father, who loved you with all the strength of his selfless pastoral love. He gave birth to you by spiritual birth into the light of God; he, like a tender mother, cherished you in the days of your infancy; he gave you all the donations that flocked to him; he built this holy church for you; he gave you all the last days of his long-suffering life, which he spent within your walls, so that at the end of his days, with his presence, his eye and his word, he could more strongly inspire those working on your spiritual and physical dispensation.” Next, the preacher reminded the listeners of the elder’s covenants and convinced them to follow them. Addressing the Orthodox laity, he said: “So, God-forgetting Christian world! Come here and see how you should arrange your life. Come to your senses! Leave the vanity of the world and know that you need to live on earth only for heaven... Do not think that it is impossible to live on earth only for God. Behold the tomb that will convict you... Leaving the world, family and friends, Fr. Ambrose, from a young age, went to a monastery, where, living in a wretched cell, eating the merest food, when he became strong enough in the fight against carnal man, he devoted himself entirely to serving his neighbor. From morning to evening he lived only for the benefit of his neighbors. He never refused advice to anyone. He treated everyone kindly. Often in the evening the sick old man's tongue became so tired that he could not even speak. And how much charity he did! How many people did he raise to his feet not only with advice, but also with financial help! And look at this monastery: it was created and nurtured by his love. He lived the lives of others, rejoiced and grieved at the joys and sorrows of his neighbors. He, one might say, did not have his own personal life. So, Christian, come to this tomb and learn that on earth one must live only for heaven, that such an order of life is possible and feasible, and that the basis of this life is complete, active self-denial for the good of one’s neighbors.” Turning then to the monks, the preacher first portrays Elder Ambrose as a high ascetic and man of prayer. “His cramped cell,” he says, “will tell you how this constantly ill, almost always dying old man, tired of the endless daylong conversation with visitors, with a pastoral conscience tormented by the sins of those who repented, used to stand on his bed and listen attentively, tearfully to the all-night vigil. And how many lonely warm prayers, bitter tears, deep bows these walls have seen! This is their secret! Yes, he was an ascetic, the likes of which are rarely found. And now his dead lips speak loudly to the entire monastic community about the increasingly strict keeping of monastic vows and regulations. But in Father Ambrose there was one more feature, the highest feature of Christian asceticism, which has been somewhat forgotten in recent times, but which the monks should learn from the deceased. Living outside the world and running from it, he knew how to live for it... Believe me, not a single reception room of any worldly person, shepherd or dignitary, has ever had as many lay people as were in the cramped, wretched cell of this hermit. Believe me, this whole world lying in evil has not received from anyone as much advice and instructions, both written and oral, as the deceased gave them to him... He knew how, by the power of his faith and love, to push the cramped walls of his cell into vast spaces. He, as a shepherd, knew that there, in a sinful but God-seeking world, there were many hungry and thirsty for Christ’s words of love and faith, he loved this world and gave it his whole life... All those who were toiling and burdened from the world came to him from the world, and he calmed them down.” In this service of love, monks must imitate the elder... “And you, monastics, serve, serve sincerely and selflessly, as the late Fr. Ambrose to the worldly people. Reverently, with a feeling of ardent, tearful love, perform God's services. Where can a layman, if not in a monastery, listen to a real service celebrated according to the rules? Where can he listen to real, truly church, ancient Russian singing, if not in the churches of holy monasteries? And you, monasticism, sacredly keep the rules and church singing and serve this world. Where does a lay person become especially religious? Again in the monastery. He goes to the walls of St. monastery where the relics of St. saint, does the miraculous St. remain? the icon walks, and his soul is filled with reverent fear. He listens to every sound, he is edified by every inscription, every sacred picture. Know this, monasticism, and reverently guard this religious disposition of a layman. Serve him in the monastery with everything you can, preach to him tirelessly; believe that he will preserve the monastery sermon for a long time, go with him to all your shrines, to all churches, show and tell him everything. Take the poor, the sick, the orphan under your roof. When you, a monk or nun, stand up for prayer, do not forget to fervently pray for the sinful world: it needs your prayer. So, Russian monasticism, remember and sacredly observe the posthumous covenant of Elder Ambrose: love sinful people and serve them in whatever way you can.” Finally, turning to the pastors of the Church, the preacher invites them to learn from the elder, to learn, first of all, from his high spiritual mood, which cannot always be found among modern shepherds. “Compare the attitude of the flock towards any priest and those who come to the deceased elder. There they - each - firmly remember their position and rank: the man comes after the master, the rich before the poor. You will come to the priest’s family as an acquaintance; Often you will sit the whole evening and not hear a word about the spiritual, about the Church, about Heaven; all the same conversations about worldly things that you have. Not so with the old man. Before him, every person felt like only a layman; princely titles and counts, fame, and wealth, and nobility, the advantages of education - everything remained beyond the threshold of his cell... Everyone talked to him, and he spoke to everyone only about spiritual things; anything mundane he said was certainly interpreted as talking about something spiritual... They looked at the priest only as a servant of God... He was a doctor with a sick conscience. But even more, we must learn from the elder his all-encompassing pastoral love, that love which, according to the Apostle, is long-suffering, merciful, does not envy, does not boast, is not proud, does not act rudely, does not seek its own, is not irritated, does not think evil, does not rejoice in untruth, but rejoices with the truth.” Having said a few more consoling words to the Shamorda sisters regarding the fact that they would not have the grave of the elder they so loved, and advising them to “carefully preserve intact and pure the spiritual image of the deceased, which will be pleasant for him and useful for them,” the preacher finished his word, which made a strong impression on all listeners. At the end of the liturgy, His Eminence Vitaly and with him 28 clergy, all in white vestments, stepped into the middle of the church for the funeral service... This sacred spectacle was majestic and touching. The reverent service of the archpastor, the harmonious singing of both choirs, the touching chants of the funeral monastic rite, many praying with candles burning in their hands, and, finally, in the midst of a brilliant setting, a poor coffin with a dead man lying in it, entwined with a schema, dear to all those present - all this made a stunning impression on everyone. Many were crying bitterly. Before the singing of “Rest with the Saints,” Hieromonk Trifon, a student of the Moscow Theological Academy, 69, who personally knew the deceased and was his novice and student and, together with Hieromonk Gregory, deliberately arrived at the burial of the elder, made a brief but deeply felt speech. Noting the amazing, truly miraculous circumstance of how the constantly dying elder continually resurrected the dead spirit of his neighbors, and pointing out some cases of his personal relationships with the deceased, the preacher vividly and sincerely outlined the main feature of the elder’s mood - his Christian love for everyone. This is “not that partial, pagan love that loves only the one who loves it and does good only to those who for some reason are useful or pleasant to it. But that love which sees in all people, first of all, the image and likeness of God, loves him and weeps over his distortions if he notices them. And he does not meet human weaknesses and infirmities with a proud word of reproach, but bears them all on himself. That love that lays down one’s soul for one’s neighbors, higher than which, as attested by the word of God, nothing can be. That love that forced one saint to boldly cry out to God in his prayers: “Lord, if I have acquired grace before You, if I have reached the Kingdom of Heaven, then command my brothers to enter with me; and without them I will not go there...” It was this love that permeated the priest’s entire being.”... As one of the features of the moral character of Elder Ambrose, Fr. Tryphon pointed out his love for children. “Let those close to the case tell us in what terrible condition the children sometimes arrived at the women’s orphanage he founded. Everyone was accepted and everyone was given a true Christian education, and some of them had already become brides of Christ. You should have seen our father among the children surrounding him, hugging and caressing him - how especially touching he was here, how often we saw his tears of emotional tenderness here... Father Tryphon concluded his speech with veneration at the elder’s coffin. Finally, the hour of the usual farewell to the deceased has arrived. The sad, harmonious sounds of the wondrously high sacred song “Come, let us give the last kiss, brothers, to the dead” were heard... Again, screams and sobs filled the church. The bishop was the first to approach the coffin. He took the Kazan Icon of the Mother of God lying on the lectern in front of the tomb and, with deep prayerful feeling, blessed the deceased with it three times, bowed low to him, kissed his head and hands, and blessed him three more times with his saintly blessing. The clergy, the abbess, the sisters and the people began to say goodbye to the bishop. This sincere, tearful last kiss lasted a long time. Finally, around three o’clock in the afternoon, the bishop took leave. Eternal memory was proclaimed to the elder. The bishop poured oil and wine, consecrated during the unction, on the body of the one who had fallen asleep in the Lord, and earth was sprinkled, according to the order of the Holy Church. Then the coffin lid was immediately nailed tightly. At three o'clock it was all over. The clergy, led by the bishop, and other guests went to the abbess’s chambers, but the coffin remained in the same place, and continuous funeral services began again... All night from Sunday to Monday the Shamordino church was full of people. Near the coffin of the deceased elder, as before, many candles were burning. Every now and then incense swirled, dirges were sung, and the reading of the Psalter continued to the side. The elder's admirers continually venerated the coffin. On the 14th, Monday, the funeral liturgy was performed by the monastery's leader, Hieromonk Anatoly Soborne. At the end of the liturgy and requiem, at 11 o'clock in the afternoon, the coffin was raised by the hands of the sisters, placed on a stretcher and, in the presentation of St. icons and banners, was first surrounded around the church, and then through the monastery, past the abbot’s building and the stone cathedral founded by the elder, the procession headed [the procession headed] to Optina Pustyn. The weather that day was stormy. The cold autumn wind pierced the travelers through and through, and the continuous rain, now subsiding, now intensifying, completely dissolved the earth. The coffin was carried alternately by the sisters of the community, the Optina monks, and lay people who wanted to show their love and devotion to their deceased mentor until the very end. Thousands of people, for more than a mile, walked and rode behind the coffin. The procession was slow. Often, despite the rain and cold, they stopped to perform funeral lithiums. When we approached villages along the way, funeral bells began to ring in the churches. Priests in vestments, with banners and icons, came out to meet them. The villagers spoke, prayed, many of them kissed the coffin of the deceased and then joined the funeral procession. Thus, as we approached Optina Pustyn, the crowd grew and grew. It is remarkable that the burning candles with which the body of the late elder was carried did not go out throughout the entire journey, despite the heavy rain and wind. Evening was approaching, and it had already become somewhat dark when the elder’s coffin was carried through the last village of Stenino, located a mile from Optina. The large seven-hundred Optina bell hummed sadly, shaking the air with rare measured strikes and spreading far and wide the sad news of the approach of the final farewell to the deceased great elder. The local clergy and many townspeople came out from the city of Kozelsk to meet the funeral procession. High above the heads of the people, through the evening twilight, a black coffin could be seen, mysteriously illuminated by the bright flame of burning candles. Swaying from the procession of those carrying him, he seemed to be floating through the air. Truly, this touching, sad and solemn transfer of the body of the deceased elder, as many noted, was more like the transfer of relics and made a touching and gracious impression on all those present. On the narrow Zhizdra River, which flows right under the monastery, and is usually crossed by ferry, this time a bridge was temporarily built. It was here, to meet the deceased elder, that a procession of the cross came out of the monastery, led by two archimandrites and accompanied by many monastics and laymen. It was a majestic sight when the elder’s coffin, carried across the bridge, was carried into the ranks of a large host of clergy in brilliant vestments, and countless crowds of people from both sides united together. The ringing of funeral bells, the singing of singers, the fluttering banners, and this vast multitude of people both in front and behind, far, far across the river, and, finally, this poor coffin, to which the eyes of all those present are directed, to which heartfelt sighs rushed from all sides, with a fervent prayer for the repose of the soul of the deceased in the heavenly abodes, with the secret grief of the heart for the loss of a dear father and with the request of his intercession at the throne of the Most High Heavenly Father - all this struck the hearts of all who had gathered to pay their last debt to the elder. It was five o'clock in the evening. The procession headed to the Holy Gates of the monastery. The coffin with the body of the deceased elder, brought into the monastery, was placed in the cold Vvedensky Cathedral, which shone with festive lighting. The abbot of the monastery, Fr. Archimandrite Isaac, co-served by several hieromonks, performed a memorial service for the deceased. A short time later, a solemn all-night vigil began in the warm Kazan Church, while in the Vvedensky Church, where the body of the elder remained, memorial services were performed continuously throughout the night and the people said farewell to the deceased. The next day, October 15, the coffin was transferred to the Kazan Church. At ten o'clock the liturgy began, which, despite his poor health, was again performed by His Eminence Vitaly himself, co-served by two archimandrites Moses and Isaac, three abbots and five hieromonks. On the right choir the bishop's choir sang, and on the left - the monastic choir. At the end of the Divine Liturgy, the Bishop, turning to the people, delivered a beautiful, touching speech, in which he depicted the essence of eldership and vividly outlined the moral character of the valiant keeper of the covenants of eldership - Fr. Hieroschemamonk Ambrose. At the end of the liturgy, the Reverends served a memorial service, in which forty clergy took part, all in white brocade vestments. At the end of the memorial service, after the 9th ode, Hieromonk Gregory (Borisoglebsky) once again delivered a brief farewell speech to the elder. In this word, he expressed the last greeting to the elder on behalf of the Moscow Theological Academy, with which the elder had a living, spiritual relationship, and for which he had always been a high example of faith and life and a spiritual leader. “We are the pupils of theological schools,” said Fr. Gregory, those preparing for shepherding, and our leaders looked at you as a model and example of shepherding. During your lifetime, the leaders, mentors and students of our Moscow Academy were all imbued with a sense of reverent respect for you, many of them used your advice, and you, loving the spiritual youth, knew how to instill in those who turned to you the true spirit of shepherding - ascetic, selfless, breathing love. Believe that the Russian clergy, the Russian spiritual youth will always preserve your memory sacredly and reverently.” The young student preacher concluded his words with earthly worship of the deceased elder. After the funeral service, the coffin of the deceased was lifted into the arms of the clergy, and, in the presentation of St. icons and banners, the funeral procession headed to the prepared grave. The bishop walked behind the coffin in full bishop's vestments with other clergy. The sad funeral chime, merging with the singing of funeral chants, accompanied the body of the deceased elder to the place of his last earthly rest. The grave for Elder Ambrose was prepared next to the grave of his great teacher, Elder Hieroschemamonk Macarius, near the southeastern wall of the summer Vvedensky Cathedral. After the funeral litany performed by the bishop, and after the proclamation of eternal memory to the deceased, the coffin was lowered into the grave. When the priest was buried, one secular observer notes, one of the monks closest to him 70 stood at the grave, folding his arms crosswise on his chest and lowering his eyes. Everyone went to dinner. Two hours passed. The same monk was still standing in the same position at the priest’s grave. It is surprising, the same observer says, that in both monasteries (Optinsky and Shamordinsky) the grief for the priest, although deep and sincere, is at the same time light and not hopeless. You can talk about him with the person closest to the priest. Everyone is calm, restrained and doing their job. Only sometimes the monk’s face will twitch with pain, or you will catch him in deep thought. And sometimes, among the conversations about the elder, someone will suddenly quietly say with a sigh: “Eh, father, father!” And so much humble sorrow can be heard in these short words! You talk to anyone about him, everyone loves him, everyone is blessed by him... “Who didn’t he love?” - Here is a common, unanimous voice. By the way, here is an excerpt from a poem dedicated to the memory of the deceased elder, one of the nuns of the Shamordino monastery: Our elder has died! The word has fallen silent! The lamp on earth has gone out! Extinguished, only to be rekindled In the distant mountain side... Great pastoral works, The joyful time has come - Oh, woe to us! How lonely How gloomy it has become on earth!.. Who will awaken us in our sleep? Will you meekly calm down the confusion? But we believe: you will not leave, And imagine the souls of your children Isn't it your voice that rings out? Now he rushes with a call Isn't that the same watchful eye We are seen from the blue stronghold, What went deep here? Into the bends of the sick conscience... Thus ended the earthly wandering of the ever-memorable Optina elder, Fr. Hieroschemamonk Ambrose! His earthly wandering ended, but his true, eternal and, we believe, blessed life in Heaven did not end, but only began. We believe in this because already here on earth, the reflection of heavenly blissful glory obviously shone in him for everyone, shone in the features of his moral appearance, shone in that inexpressible joy and spiritual peace that he shed into the soul of every person who came into close or distant spiritual contact with him, shone in that deep moral renewal and revival that took place in people sometimes under the influence of just one word or glance about. Ambrose, finally shone in those special, grace-filled gifts of clairvoyance and miracle-working, which, according to the general unanimous testimony of eyewitnesses, were inherent in Elder Ambrose. It is these gifts of his that we want to talk about now, when we have already finished our story about the earthly wandering of the elder, for they introduce us to the realm of no longer the temporary, earthly, but the eternal and heavenly life of the elder and with particular clarity certify us that Father Fr. Ambrose, who warmed so many with his love here on earth, does not and will not cease to take care of us even after his resettlement in the heavenly abodes, therefore with all the greater hope and boldness we can ask his holy prayers for us before the Throne of God, especially in certain sorrowful and difficult circumstances of our lives! Now (in 1912) he is an archimandrite living in retirement in Optina Pustyn. This prayer service is performed in the monastery weekly on Saturdays, according to the commandment of the elder. Now (in 1912) Bishop of Dmitrov, senior vicar of the Moscow Metropolis. It was Fr. Isaiah is the elder’s cell attendant. You might be interested in: