This story was told
to me in 1987 by Hieromonk Theophylact from Pskov Caves Monastery, previously
known as Konstantin Nikolayevich Belyanin who had been a military doctor in
Kazan. He became a monk after his son Konstantin died. He was collecting
stories about miracles and saints’ apparitions. He published a samizdat book
titled It Happened In Our Time under the pseudonym Nitsok (anagram to
Konstantin Nikolayevic). There might be a copy of this book in the library of
Pskov Caves Monastery even now. This is what he told me about the power of the
Life-Giving Cross and the sign of the cross.
There was a Council
of the Russian Orthodox Church in 1971, during which the bishops elected
Patriarch Poemen. Students of Moscow Theological Seminary and Academy helped with
maintenance and hospitality. A seminarian named K. shared the room with another
seminarian who was a photographer appointed to take pictures of the Council
sessions and guests. He always developed the photos after taking them, and he
had two bottles under his bed: one with developer and the other with pure
water.
As far as K. was
concerned, he “took care of the meals,” that is, he waited on the guests during
meals. There was a lot of delicious food, and the students were allowed to eat
the leftovers. K. got up one morning and was getting ready to go and perform
his duties. When he went out of his room, he heard his neighbor exclaim,
“There’s no water in the building!” It turned out that the water supply had
been cut off due to some repairs, and the seminarians had to do without water
in the morning. K. was dying of thirst, having eaten a lot of spicy food the
previous night. He recalled that there was pure water under his neighbor’s bed.
He took the bottle, poured some liquid into a glass and crossed it — a habit that
he had inherited from his pious parents. He drank it and went on to serve in
the kitchen. When he returned, he found his neighbor — the photographer — agitated.
He outstretched his arms and screamed so loud that it could be heard not only
in the room but even in the corridor, “Who took my developer?” The developer
was expensive, so K. was afraid to tell the truth.
Then he was curious
what exactly the developer tasted like. In other words, what could have
happened to him if he hadn’t crossed the glass? K. sneaked into the room, stuck
his finger into the bottle, and licked the chemical. He later said that his
tongue turned sore and burned for two days. What would have happened to him if
he had drunk the full glass without crossing it first?
There were similar
occasions in ancient times, too. Some residents of Bosra were envious of their
bishop Julian and decided to poison him. God made their plot known to Saint
Julian, so he took the poisoned cup and ordered all the citizens who took part
in the conspiracy to come to him. When they came, the righteous man declared,
“If you want to kill the humble Julian with poison, here I am drinking this cup
in front of your eyes.” He crossed the cup three times, saying “In the Name of
the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” and drank the poison — and the
poison didn’t harm him. The guilty citizens fell to their knees, asking him to
forgive them. It happened in the 6th century. However, the story narrated by
Hieromonk Theophylact happened just some forty years ago. Indeed, grace and
wonders will never cease in the Church until the Second Coming of Christ!
This story teaches
us two important lessons. First, the Lord “protects the little ones.” K.’s life
demonstrated the truth of the words of Christ, “[I]f they drink any deadly
thing, it shall not hurt them” (Mark 16:18). Second, the Cross is verily the
“Guardian of all Universe” — of our souls and bodies — and our lives, the temporary
and the eternal.
By Deacon Vladimir Vasilik
April 18, 2014
Translated
by The Catalog of Good Deeds
CONVERSATION