36. A Lesson From the Wondrous Passing of a Righteous Man

“Learn to live in this world”—so a father advises his son, an elder advises a young man, and we advise one another, not yet knowing how long we shall be granted to live in this world. A good and useful piece of advice, to be sure, for there is nothing better in life than knowing how to live well. But there is a far more important piece of advice that, however, is rarely heard among people. “Learn to die well”—this is what the Christian, who has no abiding city on earth but seeks the one to come, most of all ought to be advised. However important the art of living may be, the art of dying is even more important. Every mistake in life can be corrected, but one dies only once. It is appointed for all of us to die once, and after that comes the judgment. As a person dies, so shall he stand before that judgment (Sunday Reading, 1840, Aug. 18, no. 19, p. 165). From this most important of all sciences, we offer you today one example, or rather, a lesson drawn from the circumstances of the passing of Saint Seraphim of Sarov. “Not long before the passing of the Venerable one, one of the brothers of the Sarov monastery came to him. The holy elder said to him: ‘Blow out the candle.’ The brother blew, and the candle went out. The Venerable one said: ‘So also shall I pass from sight.’ Then he said to his cell-attendant: ‘The end is coming soon.’ After that he himself measured out his grave and placed a stone upon it. A week before his death, on the feast of the Nativity of Christ, he came to church, received Holy Communion, and after the Liturgy began asking the abbot that, when he died, they would bury him in his own coffin. Returning to his cell, he entrusted an icon of Saint Sergius to one of the monks, saying: ‘Put this icon on me when I die, and bury me with it.’ The day before his death, on a Sunday, the Venerable one came to church for the last time, himself lit candles before all the icons and venerated them, then, as was his custom, received Holy Communion. After the Liturgy he took leave of all the brothers who had been praying, blessed them all, kissed them, and comforting them, said: ‘Be saved, do not lose heart, be watchful: this very day crowns are being prepared for us.’ Having taken leave of all, he venerated the cross and the icon of the Mother of God; then, having gone around the holy altar, he made the customary bow and left the church through the north doors, thereby signifying that just as a person enters this world through one gate—the way of birth—so he departs through another, that is, the gate of death. At that time everyone noticed extreme exhaustion of his bodily strength in him, yet in spirit he was alert, calm, and cheerful. On the very day of the Venerable one’s death something remarkable occurred. In the morning one of the monks, leaving his cell for the early Liturgy, smelled smoke in the entry near the holy elder’s cell. He at once, having said a prayer, knocked at the door of the cell, but received no answer. He informed some of the brothers, and when one of them opened the door to the Venerable one’s cell with a forceful push, the monks saw by the light of a burning candle the following: the elder was standing in his usual place of prayer before the icon of the Mother of God called Tenderness, on his knees, with uncovered head, with a brass crucifix on his neck, and with his hands folded crosswise on his chest. They supposed he had fallen asleep; they began to rouse him carefully, but received no answer. The elder had finished his ascetic life… His eyes were closed, but his face was animated by thoughts of God and prayer” (“Life of Elder Seraphim,” pp. 230-234).

Thus ended the days of this servant of God—a great man of prayer, a glorious wonderworker, a wise teacher, a benefactor, friend, and father to the unfortunate—one who even in this life had entered into communion with the citizens of heaven and, while still in this body, had been found worthy to behold the mysteries of the kingdom of God.

What lesson, brothers, can we draw for ourselves from this wondrous passing? Know that we can draw not just one, but several. Therefore stand in your mind’s eye at the coffin of the Venerable one and be attentive to what he will teach you by his departure into the world above. First of all, the Venerable one foreknew his passing and attained this, of course, through his holy prayers. And you, cry out more often with the Psalmist to the Lord: Lord, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am (Ps. 38:5–6). The Venerable one, foretelling his departure, told the disciple to blow out the candle; he blew, and it went out. Calling this to mind, think on the vanity of earthly life and read: man—his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field; when the wind passes over it, it is gone, and its place knows it no more (Ps. 102:15–16). The Venerable one received Holy Communion twice before his death; so you too, take care before your end to be united with the Lord through receiving His Body and Blood, and embrace and hold within yourselves by faith and love this sure pledge of His abiding with you. Before his passing the Venerable one blessed, comforted, and kissed all who were dear to his heart. So you too, call those close to you to your deathbed, so as to take mutual comfort in their faith and your own, and to be mutually strengthened by their prayers and yours. Finally, the Venerable one with a prayer on his lips gave up his spirit to the Lord—that is, as he had always lived with the Lord, so he also died with Him. And you, take care always to be united with Him by unswerving faith, strong love, unceasing prayer, and blameless life. These, brothers, are the lessons from the Venerable one at his graveside. Strive to take them to heart and to follow them, so as to acquire a holy orientation for your souls, preserve it, and pass with it into the life to come. Amen.