What is Needed to Ensure That Family and Friends Remain Inseparable From Us Even After Death?
September 24
(How a Certain Abbot Prayed to God for his Monks, So That They Would Enter Paradise With Him.)
By Archpriest Victor Guryev
September 24
(How a Certain Abbot Prayed to God for his Monks, So That They Would Enter Paradise With Him.)
By Archpriest Victor Guryev
Having family and friends here on earth, we would, of course, wish not to be separated from them even after death. Unfortunately, this may not always be the case. When the Lord comes to judgment, He will separate some from others and say to some, “Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world;” but to others, “ Depart from Me, you cursed, into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels.” And some will go to the Kingdom of Heaven, and others into everlasting torment (Matthew 25:32–41, 46). It may well be that we too will be separated from our family and friends. It may well be that they will go to the Kingdom of Heaven, and we into everlasting torment, or vice versa. A terrible fate! But is there no way to avoid it?
A certain holy elder often prayed to God that his disciples, after death, would enter Paradise with him. "Lord," he said, "though I am a sinner, trusting in Your mercies, I hope to receive salvation. Do not separate me from my disciples in the future life; but grant them also to be with me in Your Kingdom!" The Lord answered the elder's prayer in the following way. There was a feast at a nearby monastery, and the elder and his disciples were invited to it. The elder was reluctant to go, but in a dream he was told that he must certainly go, except only after his disciples. The time came, and the elder's disciples went to the feast. On the way, they encountered a beggar lying on the road, covered in wounds. "What's wrong with you?" the monks asked. "I was already a sick man," the beggar replied, "and then a beast attacked me, wounded me, and now I lie here, without anyone to take pity on me and carry me home." "We pity you," said the monks, "but we have nothing to help you with. We are on foot, we have no donkey, and it would be difficult to carry you." They said this and walked away. A little later, the same beggar was met by an elder, their abbot. Having learned from the beggar the reason for his misfortune, the elder asked, "Didn't some monks meet you shortly before my arrival?" "Yes, they did," replied the beggar, "but they didn't help. Walk, they said, we can't carry you." "Couldn't you at least walk with me a little?" continued the elder. "No, I can't," was the answer. "Well, that's no use," said the holy abbot. "I'll take you and, with God's help, perhaps I'll carry you." "But how will you carry me?" objected the recumbent man. "The journey is long, and you're alone. It would be better if someone sent you." "No," the elder answered decisively, "I won't leave you; I'll take you and carry you." And with these words, he lifted the beggar onto his shoulders and carried him. At first, it was very difficult for the elder, but then his burden became lighter and lighter, and finally, the one being carried became completely invisible. The elder was perplexed as to what this meant. His confusion was soon resolved when he heard a voice: "You constantly pray for your disciples, that they, with you, may be deemed worthy of eternal life; but your behavior and theirs are not the same. Compel them to join in your work. I am a righteous Judge and I reward each according to his deeds."
After this, it is clear, brethren, what is needed to remain with family and friends even after death. If they lead a pious life, then follow their example and imitate them; if you are pious, then let them follow your example and imitate you. Otherwise, separation is inevitable. Amen.
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
