The Catalog of Good Deeds

The Story of Aviv Saliu-Diallo (Switzerland)

Sometimes my friends ask me, “Didn’t you know Fr. Daniel before he died?” I answer, “No.” I did not know him personally; in fact, when I saw a video of his sermon on the internet just once, I thought, “Well, that is really too much. Why start off immediately with hell and eternal torments? After all, you could scare people off with such words.” And as I always did in such cases, I turned off what I found disagreeable and went back to my business.

Although I considered myself to be among the saved, I had neither zeal for salvation nor real love of neighbor. I had somehow forgotten the Savior’s words (or maybe I just never really thought about them): So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth (Rev. 3:16).

About a half-year later I left Russia. I was living and studying in Switzerland where my family is from. I was living alone—my wife had stayed on in Russia for another year. I missed my beloved Russia and my friends. I was now surrounded by the Swiss, who I no longer understood; I had grown unaccustomed to them, and was more used to the lively Russian people and the unpredictability of Russian daily life. My spiritual father, who I wasn’t even obeying anymore, was back in Petersburg and here I didn’t even have anyone to disobey. I studied hard. I pined for God of course, and went regularly to Liturgy—something I didn’t always do in Russia, prayed and read the Lives of the Saints. I especially loved the Lives of the martyrs and fools-for-Christ. But despite my lukewarmness I still nurtured the hope of coming to God. During rare moments I dreamed of sainthood, about the power of grace that enabled the martyrs to endure torments and death, and the fools-for-Christ to endure mockery and difficulties.

Then, I received a brief note from a friend: “Yesterday in Moscow the well-known priest Daniel Sisoyev was shot right in his church. Perhaps you have heard of him?” He further related this event, and how Fr. Daniel Sisoyev baptized Muslims. He not only Baptized them but also catechized them.

I immediately opened the news sites and saw with horror the church, the police, and the mourning Orthodox people at night in the cold Moscow bedroom community.

Then I turned to the Orthodox internet and gradually learned who this famous priest was, and I tried to understand who would want him dead. I began to acquaint myself with a new term coined by Fr. Daniel: “uranopolitan”—not at all a cosmopolitan, or “citizen of the world”, but an uranopolitan, or citizen of heaven. I listened to his sermons and read the commentary to them. An Islamic threat could be heard. It is true, however, that much later when I read Fr. Daniel’s Live Journal I mostly saw angry commentary from nationalists.

To me it was all very clear: he was a martyr for his faith in Christ. I wanted to find out as much as possible about him; it was all unbelievable that there could be a martyr, a saint in our days! It only would have taken one quiet night in a train from St. Petersburg to Moscow for some negligible 500 rubles and I could have heard the voice of a future martyr, received a blessing from a faithful servant of Christ, and kissed the hand of a saint. But even more importantly I could have learned from him and helped him in his good work. In our days, in our pious Church, a missionary was selflessly laboring. And not at rock concerts or in the Orthodox press, but amongst Muslims, sectarians, and occultists. He was a missionary who was worthy of a martyric death.

A few hours passed and my brother Rashid came to visit. I had to tell him somehow, “Dear brother, your brother Muslims killed our priest…” No. He would not understand. Or should I start off by telling him about hell and eternal torments? “Rashid, we now have hard proof. A martyr for the Christian faith has died, consciously given his life, because he was convinced, he knew that you, Muslims, will go to hell.” Will he understand? He will probably take offense… “You cannot be saved without Christ. So repent, brother, because Mohamed is a false prophet.” Apparently, I am still too full of rage. I have to begin with prayer; I have to find an appropriate moment and appropriate words… I am still looking for them.

Now I have work to do. Missionary work. It was probably a whole week I listened to all of Fr. Daniels’ talks on mission and Islam that were in the internet. His voice is infectious and strong. I listen to them over again regularly, especially when my spirit falls. His expression is always joyful, radiant, and, please excuse the expression, but it is no accident that saints are depicted and described as “similar”—they express that Light which radiates from the Trinity one in essence.

During that week I made the decision: it’s time to act, time to serve God, and not simply pretend to be a Christian. I want to serve God as a missionary and I want to carry out that service according to the image that the priest Fr. Daniel who was slain for Christ left us. I tried to take my first steps, but nothing turned out right. I made contact with Fr. Daniel’s students and co-workers, who sent me a detailed answer to my letter, gave me wise instruction, and most importantly, moral support. I want to take this opportunity to thank them. They are true continuers of Fr. Daniel’s work, and he is a continuer of the plan of the Holy Trinity, for “the Church’s mission is a continuation of Christ’s mission. Christ is the First Apostle,” as it says in the documents of our Church.

I remember my first street sermon. It was two days after I had learned of Fr. Daniel’s martyrdom. After the Liturgy I went to the train station and waited for someone to talk to about Christ. A young man walked up to me; he looked like a drug addict, and asked me for spare change. I replied, “I cannot give you change, but I can give you something much more valuable.” He said, “Alright, give it to me.” “I will give you the word of God! God is Love!” But he just said, “Get out of here.”

That is how I began… I continued to go out on street mission for over a year, but not with such “pearls” as the first time, because I received advice from those who do street mission in Moscow. My experience allowed me to understand that one method might bring good results in some situations, but not in others. The Moscow missionaries continually testified about how people responded during street mission and what interesting conversations arise. In Geneva, no one was interested. Here in Switzerland, even the Mormons and other sectarians have given up street mission long ago. They probably decided that it’s a hopeless cause with these people.

But I did not want to give up and was always looking for other forms of missionary work. I had and still have a sister in the faith, Lydia. At home, they call her in by her African name, Neyat. She came to Switzerland as a refugee when she was twelve. On Sunday after Liturgy she would go with me to a café and listen to me retell Fr. Daniel’s sermons. They immediately went to her heart. “Here we are in Switzerland and we are silent, although we know perfectly well that Orthodoxy is the true religion. Why are we silent?” she would say. We started working on translations of Orthodox literature, and Lydia, who is absolutely fluent in French, gave me a lot of help in editing my translations. One time she came with me on street mission, and later had a good laugh at how the people reacted to me. But even though my preaching did not convert other people, it was of no little benefit to me. It is not easy to get up the resolve to go and do such a thing, you really don’t want to take the risk; but when you overcome yourself for the sake of fulfilling Christ’s commandment, something changes within you and you become closer to God. It is only that street mission turned out not to be precisely what we need to start with here; our bishop also confirmed this to me later.

Besides Lydia, another co-worker came to help me—eighty-seven-year-old grandpa Charles (his Orthodox name is Joseph). Charles taught himself to read and write Russian independently. Forty years ago he walked into a Russian Orthodox Church and said, “This is the paradise that my grandmother used to talk about”, and after some time he became Orthodox, converting from Catholicism. Charles offered to help me with a translation of Fr. Daniel’s Serbian Conversations into French. This work helped him to bear his grief over his wife’s recent repose.

We would sometimes argue over words in this book. “How can one talk like that? It’s not polite,” he would say is disbelief. “One can and should,” I would protest. He would say, “How could we give such sermons here, in Geneva? People will either not listen, or they will take offense!” I thought to myself, “Let them even kill us,” but I said that any thoughts can be adapted to a particular audience.

He helped me, and he liked it; so afterwards we worked together on a translation into French of the book, 300 Sayings of Ascetics of the Orthodox Church. I thank Joseph with all my heart—he is a truly believing man, a faithful servant of the Lord. We managed to find money to publish the French translation of 300 Sayings. While Serbian Conversations are more oriented toward the Orthodox reader, this book could be interesting to the heterodox; it could help them to get a taste of patristic wisdom. Now I have begun a translation of the sayings of the Optina Elders. We have also begun little by little to look for financial help for aid to the Orthodox mission in Africa. So far we have helped cover some essential needs of the parish in the Ivory Coast. Now we are studying the possibility of organizing Orthodox catechetical talks in Geneva. The lack of such talks is really felt.

I have understood that for a successful mission it is important that you yourself represent what you are preaching. I am trying to work on myself in this respect.

Perhaps what I have written has not turned out to be quite what I thought it would. I wanted to write about how Fr. Daniel’s martyric death changed my fate, and about how, thanks to his preaching, which cost him his life on earth and which reached me and others also only after his death, I became a sincere Christian. About how I stopped being indifferent to my salvation and the salvation of those around me. I wanted to relate how, thanks to this fervent preaching, I began to read the whole Bible and not just small portions of the Gospels—according to Fr. Daniel’s advice I began a daily rule of reading God’s word. I felt the need to have a church wedding and not just settle for a piece of paper from the secular registration office, because Fr. Daniel revealed to me the meaning of this and other Sacraments. It was Fr. Daniel who instilled in me the thought of needing to regularly partake of Communion. And his example inspired me toward the path of missionary work.

Fr. Daniel called all to the path. I responded in word and deed, but not in spirit. Therefore, despite the directive to bring my faith to a higher level, I a sinner have not yet succeeded in beginning missionary work in my country. Therefore, I ask everyone’s prayers for me, sinful slave of God Aviv, so that through the prayers of the Mother God, the martyrs of Christ, the apostles and all the saints, I would labor unhypocritically in a life according to Christ’s commandments.

Source of entire article: http://orthochristian.com/57660.html

"Agony," I heard this word pronounced over me by the doctor.

Since I did not speak, being completely concentrated within myself, and my glance expressed a complete absence of affect in relation to the surrounding world, the doctors evidently decided that I was in an unconscious state and spoke about me audibly without restraint. But meanwhile, I not only excellently understood all, but it was impossible for me not to think and observe to a certain degree.

"Agony, death!" I thought, having heard the words of the doctor. "Am I really dying?" Turning to myself, I spoke out loud; but how? Why? I cannot explain this.

I suddenly remembered a learned discourse dealing with the question of whether or not death is painful, which I once read long ago, and, having closed my eyes, I examined myself with regard to what was taking place in me at the time.

No, I felt no physical pain whatsoever, but undoubtedly I was suffering. I felt heavy within and weary. What was this from? I knew of what sickness I was dying; what was the case here, was the edema choking me, or was it depressing the activity of the heart and this was making me weary? I do not know. Perhaps such was the explanation of my oncoming death according to the ideas of those people, of the world, which now was so alien and remote from me. I, however, only felt an insurmountable striving towards somewhere, an attraction towards something concerning which I already have spoken.

And I felt that this attraction increased with each moment, that I already had just, just about come very close, almost in contact with that magnet which was attracting me, which if I should touch, would cause me with my whole body to become fused with it, to grow into one with it in such a manner that no force would then be capable of separating me from it, and the more strongly I felt the proximity of this moment, the more fearful and depressed I became, and this was so because I simultaneously felt a resistance to this with increasing clarity, I felt more clearly that I as a whole could not unite, that something had to separate within me, and that this something was striving away from the unknown object of attraction with the same intensity that the something else in me was striving towards it. It was this struggle that caused me weariness, suffering.

XII

The meaning of the word "agony," which I heard, was entirely understood by me, but now everything in me somehow turned away from my relationships, feelings and extended to my conceptions inclusively.

Without doubt, if I had heard this word even at the time when the three doctors were examining me, I would have been frightened to an alarming degree. Likewise, if such a strange turn had not taken place in my sickness, if I remained in the ordinary state of a sick man, even at the present moment, knowing that death is approaching, I would have understood and explained all that had taken place with me differently; but in the present state the words of the doctor only surprised me, not having aroused that feeling of fear which is characteristic of people who are thinking about death, and I gave an entirely unexpected, in comparison with my previous conceptions, interpretation to that state which I was experiencing

"Well now, so that's what it is! It is the earth that is drawing me so," suddenly it dawned on me. "That is to say, not me, but that which belongs to her, that which she let me have for a period of time. And is the earth drawing it, or is matter itself trying to return to her?"

And that which previously seemed so natural and true, and namely, that after death I should turn completely to dust, now appeared unnatural and impossible.

"No, I as a whole shall not disappear, I cannot," I almost screamed out loud, and made an attempt to free myself, to tear myself from that force which was attracting me, and suddenly I felt a calm within myself.

I opened my eyes, and everything that I saw in the course of that minute, down to the slightest details, registered in my memory with complete clarity.

I saw that I was standing alone within a room; to the right of me, standing about something in a semi-circle, the whole medical staff was crowded together: having put his hands behind himself and gazing intently at something which I was unable to see due to their figures, stood the head physician; behind him, slightly bent forward — the younger physician; the old assistant doctor, holding a bag of oxygen in his hands, with indecision shifted from one leg to the other, evidently not knowing what to do with his apparatus, either to bear it away, or not to do so, since it could still be of use; and the young doctor, having bent down, was supporting something, but due to his shoulder, only the pillows were able to be seen by me.

This group struck me with surprise: at the place where they were standing there was a bed. What was it that drew the attention of these people, what were they looking at, when I already was not there, when I was standing in the midst of the room?

I moved forward and looked where they all were looking:

There on the bed I was lying.

XIII

I do not have any recollection of experiencing anything like fear when seeing my double; I only was perplexed: how can this be? I feel myself here, and at the same time I am there also.

I looked at myself standing in the midst of the room. Why this without doubt was me, exactly the same as I always knew myself to be.

I wanted to touch myself, to take the left hand by the right: my hand went right through; I tried to grasp myself at the waist — my hand again went through my body as through empty space.

Struck by such a strange phenomenon, I wanted that some one nearby should help me understand what I at was happening and, having made several steps, I extended my hand, desiring to touch the shoulder of the doctor; but I felt that I was walking strangely, not feeling contact with the floor; and my hand, no matter how I tried, could not reach the figure of the doctor. Only perhaps a few inches of space remained, but I was not able to touch him.

I made an effort to stand firmly on the floor, but, although my body obeyed my attempts and lowered itself, yet it could not reach the floor just as the figure of the doctor was not able to be reached before. Here also an insignificant amount of space remained, but I could in no way overcome it.

And I vividly remembered how several days ago the nurse of our ward, desiring to guard my medicine from becoming spoiled, lowered a vial containing it into a pitcher of cold water. However, there was much water in the jug and immediately the light vial was buoyed up; but the old nurse, not understanding what had taken place, persistently tried one, two, and three times to lower it down to the bottom of the pitcher and even held it down with her finger in the hope that it eventually would remain there. But hardly had she removed her finger, than it again would be carried upwards to the surface.

Evidently in a similar manner, the surrounding air must have become too dense for me, for present me.

XIV

What happened to me?

I called the doctor, but the atmosphere in which I was found turned out to be entirely unfit for me; it did not receive and transmit the sounds of my voice, and I understood myself to be in a state of utter dissociation from all that was about me. I understood my strange state of solitude, and a feeling of panic came over me. There really was something inexpressibly horrible in this extraordinary solitude. If a person becomes lost in a forest, is drowning in the depths of the sea, caught in a fire, sitting in solitary confinement — he never loses hope that he will be heard. He knows that he will be understood if his call for help is carried to somebody's hearing; he understands that another living being sees him, that the guard will walk into his casemate, and he will be able to start speaking with him, express what he desires and the other will understand him.

But to see people about oneself, to hear and understand their conversation, and at the same time know that no matter what happens to you, you have no opportunity whatsoever of informing them of your presence and of expecting help if in need — from such a state of solitude my hairs stood on end, the mind became torpid. It was worse than being on an uninhabited island, because there at least nature would have manifested positive signs of receptivity of one's individuality; but here, in this one deprivation of the capacity to associate with the surrounding world, as an unnatural experience for a human being, in it there was so much deathly fear, such a horrible acknowledgment of helplessness, which one is neither able to experience in any other situation nor convey in words.

I, of course, did not give in at once; I attempted in all possible ways and tried to make my presence known, but these attempts only brought me complete despair. Is it really possible that they don't see me? — I thought with despair and repeatedly approached the group of people standing over my bed, but none of them turned around or paid attention to me, and now I looked at myself with perplexity, not understanding how it was possible for them not to see me, when I was the same as I had always been. I made an attempt to touch myself, and my hand again only passed through air.

"But I am not a ghost. I feel and am conscious of myself, and my body is a real body, and not some kind of delusive ‘mirage,’" I thought, and again looked at myself intently and became convinced that my body really was a body, because I could observe it and see its minutest details, even a dot, with complete clarity. Its external appearance remained the same as it had been previously, but evidently its qualities changed. It became inaccessible to touch, and the surrounding air became too dense for it so that complete contact with objects was not possible.

"An astral body. It seems that is what it is called?" the thought flashed through my mind. "But why, what has happened to me?" I asked myself, trying to remember if I ever had heard descriptions of such states, of strange transfigurations in sickness.

"No, you cannot do anything here! Everything is finished," the young doctor said, waving his hand in a hopeless manner, and went away from the bed on which was lying the other me.

I felt inexpressibly vexed, that they continue to reason and fuss over that me which I completely did not feel, which did not exist for me, and were leaving without attention the other real me, which is conscious of everything and being tormented by the fear of obscurity, seeks, demands their help.

"Is it possible that they will not find out. Is it possible that they do not understand that I am not there?" With disappointment I thought and, walking up to the bed, I looked at that me, which at the expense of my real me, attracted the attention of the people in the ward.

I glanced, and here only for the first time the thought emerged: is it possible that that which has happened to me, in our language, in the language of living people, is defined by the word "death"?

This occurred to me because the body lying on the bed had all the appearances of a corpse: without any movement, not breathing, the face covered with a kind of pallor, with firmly compressed, slightly cyanotic lips, it vividly reminded me of all the deceased that I had ever seen. It may seem strange at first, that only in seeing my lifeless body I comprehended what really had happened to me, but if one carefully considers and thoroughly perceives that which I felt and experienced, such a strange, on first sight, perplexity on my part becomes understandable. With our understanding of the word "death" there is inextricably bound the idea of some kind of destruction, a cessation of life, how could I think that I died when I did not lose self-consciousness for one moment, when I felt myself just as alive, hearing all, seeing all, conscious of all, capable of movement, thought, speech? Of what deterioration could there be any consideration here, when I splendidly saw myself, and at the same time even acknowledged the strangeness of my state? Even the words of the doctor, that "all is over" did not draw my attention and did not call forth a guess concerning that which had taken place — to such a great extent did that which took place with me differ from our conceptions of death!

The dissociation from everything about me, the split in my personality more than anything could have made me understand that which had taken place, if I should have believed in the existence of a soul, if I were religious; but this was not the case and I was guided solely by that which I felt, and the sensation of life was so clear, that I only was perplexed with the strange phenomenon, being completely unable to link my feelings with the traditional conception of death, that is to say, while sensing and being conscious of myself, to think that I do not exist.

Subsequently I often had the opportunity of hearing from religious people, that is to say, those not negating the existence a soul and after-life, the following opinion or supposition: that as soon as the soul of man has shuffled off its corruptible flesh, it immediately becomes a kind of an all-knowing essence, that for it there is nothing unknown, and it is astonishing how in the new realm of reality, in the new form of existence, that it not only immediately enters into the field of new laws which are revealed to it by the new world and its own changed state of being, but that all this is so akin to it, that this transition is like a return to a real homeland, a return to its natural state. Such a supposition is founded mainly on the idea that the soul is a spirit, and those limitations do not present themselves for the spirit that exist for the physical part of man.

XVI

Such a hypothesis, of course, is entirely untrue.

From what has been described above, the reader sees that I arrived in this new world essentially the same as I had left it, that is to say, with practically the very same capacities, conceptions and knowledge which I had while living on earth.

For example, when I wanted somehow to make my presence known, I had recourse to those means which are commonly used in these cases by all live people; that is to say, I called, approached, tried to touch or push someone; having noticed a new quality of my body I felt it to be strange: consequently, my previous conceptions remained in me; otherwise it would not have seemed strange to me, — and desiring to become convinced in the existence of my body, I again had recourse to the usual method that I had been accustomed to in these cases as an earthly human.

Even after having understood that I had died, I did not grasp by means of some kind of new means the change which had taken place within me, and, being perplexed, I either called my body "astral," or before my attention there emerged the following idea, was not the first man ever to be created given such a body. And later, with the fall of his leathern sacerdotal vestment, which is mentioned in the Bible, is this not that corruptible body, which is now lying in bed and would in a short time change to dust? In short, desiring to understand what had taken place with me, I proposed such explanations which were known and accessible to me according to my mundane conceptions.

And this was to be expected. The soul of course is spirit, but spirit is created for life with the body; therefore in what way can the body be anything like a prison for it, some kind of bonds that chain it to some supposedly unrelated form of existence?

No, the body is a lawful dwelling place that has been, as it were, placed at the disposal of the spirit, and therefore it will appear in the other world at that level of its development and perfection, which it had attained during its joint existence with the body, in the lawfully established form of its existence. Of course, if during life a person was spiritually developed, spiritually disposed, then his soul will feel more related and things will therefore appear more understandable in this new world than that of the soul of the person who lived never thinking of the other world, and while the first will be in a position, so to say, of reading these, even though not rapidly and not without mistakes, the second, similar to my case, has to begin from the rudiments. Time is needed in order to understand both that fact which it never had thought about, and that actual realm in which it now finds itself and where it never drifted mentally during earthly existence.

Afterwards in recalling and thinking over my state of being at the time, I noticed only that my mental capacities functioned with such striking energy and swiftness, that it seemed not the slightest trace of time remained after I had made the exertion to comprehend, compare or remember something. Hardly had something appeared before me when my memory, immediately penetrating into the past, would dig up all the slightest bits of knowledge concerning a given subject which were carelessly lying about and forgotten; and that which at another time would doubtlessly have aroused a feeling of perplexity, now appeared as if it were quite apparent. At times, by virtue of some infusion of power, I even guessed beforehand that which was unknown to me; but this nevertheless not before it actually appeared before my eyes. And it was only this latter condition that turned out to be the outstanding quality of my capacities, besides those other, as it were, expected changes which resulted from my altered state of being.

XVII

I am now proceeding with the narration of the further circumstances in my unbelievable occurrence.

Unbelievable! But if up until now it has seemed unbelievable, then these further circumstances will appear as such "naive" stories before the eyes of my learned readers, that it would not be worth relating them; but perhaps for those who should want to view my narration differently, the naiveté itself and scantiness of the material presented will serve as proof of its veracity; because if I were making up this narration — imagining it — then such a wide field opens up for one's fantasia here that, of course, I could have thought up something more subtle and effective.

Now then, what further took place with me? The doctors, walked out of the ward, both assistant doctors were standing about and trying to explain the stages of my illness and death, and the old nurse turned to the ikon, crossed herself and audibly expressed the accepted wish in such cases:

"May he inherit the kingdom of heaven, eternal peace to him."

And hardly had she uttered these words, than two Angels appeared at my side; for some reason in one of them I recognized my Guardian Angel, but the other was unknown to me.**

Having taken me by the arms, the Angels carried me right through the wall of the ward into the street.

It already had grown dark. Snow was silently falling in large flakes. I saw this, but the cold and in general the difference in temperature between the room and outside I did not feel. Evidently these like phenomena lost their significance for my changed body. We began to quickly ascend. And the degree to which we had ascended, the increasingly greater became the expanse of space that was revealed before our eyes. And finally it took on such terrifyingly vast proportions that I was seized with a fear from the realization of my insignificance in comparison to this desert of infinity. Here also certain peculiarities of my vision became apparent to me. Firstly, it was dark and I saw everything clearly in the dark; consequently my vision received the capacity of seeing in the dark; secondly, I was able to include in the field of my vision such a vast expanse of space, which undoubtedly I would not have been able to do with my ordinary vision. And at the time I was not conscious of these peculiarities, but, that I did not see everything, that no matter how broad the field of my vision was. Nevertheless a limit existed for it. This I understood very clearly and was terrified by it. Yes, to what a great extent is it characteristic for man to give a permanent kind of value to his individuality: I recognized myself to be so very unimportant, a meaningless atom, the appearance and disappearance of which would of course remain unnoticed in this limitless space, but instead of finding some kind of consolation in this, a kind of security became frightened ... that I could get lost, that this unbounded vastness would swallow me up like a sorry particle of dust. A most wonderful rebuttal by an insignificant particle of the common (as some think) law of destruction, and an outstanding manifestation of man's acknowledgment of his immortality, of the eternal state of being of his individuality!

XIX

The conception of time was absent in my mental state at this time, and I do not know how long we were moving upwards, when suddenly there was heard at first an indistinct noise. And following this, having emerged from somewhere, with shrieks and rowdy laughter, a throng of some hideous beings began rapidly to approach us.

"Evil Spirits!" — I suddenly comprehended and appraised with unusual rapidity that resulted from the horror I experienced at that time, a horror of a special kind and until then never before experienced by me. Evil spirits! O, how much irony, how much of the most sincere kind of laughter this would have aroused in me but a few days ago. Even a few hours ago somebody's report, not only that he saw evil spirits with his own eyes, but only that he believed in their existence as in something fundamentally real, would have aroused a similar reaction! As was proper for an "educated" man at the close of the nineteenth century, I understood this to mean foolish inclinations, passions in a human being and that is why the very word itself had for me not the significance of a name, but a term which defined a certain abstracted conception. And suddenly this "certain abstracted conception" appeared before me as a living personification. Even up to the present time I am not able to say how and why at that time, without the slightest trace of doubt, I recognized evil spirits to be present in that ugly sight. Undoubtedly only because such a designation of it was completely outside of the normal order of things and logic, for if a similar hideous sight appeared before me at another time, undoubtedly I would have said that it was some kind of fiction personified, an abnormal caprice of one's imagination. In short, everything else but in no way, of course, would I have called it a name by which I would have meant something which cannot be seen. But at the time, this designation of its nature took place with such rapidity, that seemingly there was no need to think about it, as if I had seen that which already was well known to me long ago; and since, as I already have explained, at that time my mental capacities functioned with such incomprehensible intensity, I therefore comprehended just as rapidly that the ugly outward appearance of these beings was not their real exterior; that this was some kind of an abominable show which was probably conceived with the purpose of frightening me to a greater degree; and for a moment something similar to pride stirred within me. I then felt ashamed of myself, for man in general, because in order to arouse fear in man, a being who thinks so much of himself, other forms of being have recourse to such methods which we ourselves use with respect to small children.

Having surrounded us on all sides, with shrieks and rowdy sounds the evil spirits demanded that I be given over to them, they tried somehow to seize and tear me away from the Angels, but evidently did not dare to do this. In the midst of their rowdy howling, unimaginable and just as repugnant to one's hearing as their sight was for my eyes, I sometimes caught up words and whole phrases.

"He is ours: he has renounced God," they suddenly cried out almost in unison. And here they lunged at us with such boldness that for a moment fear froze the flow of all thought in my mind.

"That is a lie! That is untrue!" Coming to myself I wanted to shout, but an obliging memory bound my tongue. In some way unknown to me, I suddenly recalled such a slight, insignificant occurrence, which in addition was related to so remote a period of my youth that, it seems, I in no way could have been able to recall it to mind.

I recalled how during my years of study, once having gathered at my friend's, after having spoken about school studies, we passed over to discussing various abstract and elevated topics — conversations which often were carried on by us.

"Generally speaking, I don't like abstractions," says one of my comrades, "but here you already have absolute impossibility. I am able to believe in some kind of power of nature which, let us say, has not been investigated. That is to say, I can allow for its existence, even when not seeing its clear cut, definite manifestations, because it may be very insignificant or combined in its effects with other powers, and for this reason difficult to grasp; but to believe in God, as a Being, individual and omnipotent, to believe — when I do not anywhere see clear manifestations of this Individuality — this already becomes absurd. I am told: believe. But why must I believe, when I am equally able to believe that there is no God. Why, is it not true? Is it also not possible that He does not exist?" Now my comrade turned to me for support.

"Maybe not," I let escape from my lips.

This phrase was in the full sense of the word an "idle statement": the unreasonable talk of my friend could not have aroused within me a doubt in the existence of God. I did not particularly listen to his talking; and now it turned out that this idle statement of mine did not disappear without leaving a trace in the air, I had to justify myself, to defend myself from the accusation that was directed against me, and in such a manner the New Testament statement was verified in practice: We really shall have to give an account for all our idle words, if not by the Will of God, Who sees the secrets of man's heart, then by the anger of the enemy of salvation.

This accusation evidently was the strongest argument that the evil spirits had for my perdition. They seemed to derive new strength in this for the daring of their attacks on me, and now with furious bellowing they spun about us, preventing us from going any further.

I recalled a prayer and began praying, appealing for help to those Holy Ones whose names I knew and whose names came to mind. But this did not frighten my enemies. A sad ignorant Christian only in name, I now, it seems, almost for the first time in my life remembered Her, Who is called the Intercessor for Christians.

And evidently my appeal to Her was intense. Evidently my soul was filled with terror, that hardly had I remembered and pronounced Her name, when about us there suddenly appeared a kind of white mist which soon began to enfold within itself the ugly throng of evil spirits. It concealed them from my eyes before they could withdraw from us. Their bellowing and cackling was still heard for a long while, but according to how it gradually weakened in intensity and became more dull, I was able to judge that the terrible pursuit was gradually being left behind.

Source: https://www.fatheralexander.org/booklets/english/unbelievable_but_true.htm

The archaeological examination by robotic camera of an intact first century tomb in Jerusalem has revealed a set of limestone Jewish ossuaries or “bone boxes” that are engraved with a rare Greek inscription and a unique iconographic image that the scholars involved identify as distinctly Christian.

The four-line Greek inscription on one ossuary refers to God “raising up” someone and a carved image found on an adjacent ossuary shows what appears to be a large fish with a human stick figure in its mouth, interpreted by the excavation team to be an image evoking the biblical story of Jonah.

In the earliest gospel materials the “sign of Jonah,” as mentioned by Jesus, has been interpreted as a symbol of his resurrection. Jonah images in later “early” Christian art, such as images found in the Roman catacombs, are the most common motif found on tombs as a symbol of Christian resurrection hope. In contrast, the story of Jonah is not depicted in any first century Jewish art and iconographic images on ossuaries are extremely rare, given the prohibition within Judaism of making images of people or animals.

The tomb in question is dated prior to 70 CE, when ossuary use in Jerusalem ceased due to the Roman destruction of the city. Accordingly, if the markings are Christian as the scholars involved believe, the engravings represent – by several centuries – the earliest archaeological record of Christians ever found. The engravings were most likely made by some of Jesus’ earliest followers, within decades of his death. Together, the inscription and the Jonah image testify to early Christian faith in resurrection. The tomb record thus predates the writing of the gospels.

The findings are detailed in a preliminary report by James D. Tabor, professor and chair of religious studies at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte, which is published online.

“If anyone had claimed to find either a statement about resurrection or a Jonah image in a Jewish tomb of this period I would have said impossible — until now,” Tabor said. “Our team was in a kind of ecstatic disbelief, but the evidence was clearly before our eyes, causing us to revise our prior assumptions.”

The publication of the academic article is concurrent with the publication of a book by Simon & Schuster entitled “The Jesus Discovery: The New Archaeological Find That Reveals the Birth of Christianity.” The book is co-authored by Professor James Tabor and filmmaker/professor Simcha Jacobovici. A documentary on the discovery will be aired by the Discovery Channel in spring 2012.

The findings and their interpretation are likely to be controversial, since most scholars are skeptical of any Christian archaeological remains from so early a period. Adding to the controversy is the tomb’s close proximity to a second tomb, discovered in 1980. This tomb, dubbed by some “The Jesus Family Tomb,” contained inscribed ossuaries that some scholars associate with Jesus and his family, including one that reads “Jesus, son of Joseph.”

“Context is everything in archaeology,” Tabor pointed out. “These two tombs, less than 200 feet apart, were part of an ancient estate, likely related to a rich family of the time. We chose to investigate this tomb because of its proximity to the so-called ‘Jesus tomb,’ not knowing if it would yield anything unusual.”

The tomb containing the new discoveries is a modest sized, carefully carved rock cut cave tomb typical of Jerusalem in the period from 20 BCE until 70 CE.

The tomb was exposed in 1981 by builders and is currently several meters under the basement level of a modern condominium building in East Talpiot, a neighborhood of Jerusalem less than two miles south of the Old City. Archaeologists entered the tomb at the time, were able to briefly examine it and its ossuaries, take preliminary photographs, and remove one pot and an ossuary, before they were forced to leave by Orthodox religious groups who oppose excavation of Jewish tombs.

The ossuary taken, that of a child, is now in the Israel State Collection. It is decorated but has no inscriptions. The archaeologists mention “two Greek names” but did not notice either the newly discovered Greek inscription or the Jonah image before they were forced to leave. The tomb was re-sealed and buried beneath the condominium complex on what is now Don Gruner Street in East Talpiot.

The adjacent “Jesus tomb,” was uncovered by the same construction company in 1980, just one year earlier. It was thoroughly excavated and its contents removed by the Israel Antiquities Authority. This tomb’s controversial ossuaries with their unusual cluster of names (that some have associated with Jesus and his family) are now part of the Israel State Collection and have been on display in various venues, including the Israel Museum. These ossuaries will be in an exhibit running from late February through April 15 at Discovery Times Square.

In 2009 and 2010, Tabor and Rami Arav, professor of archaeology at the University of Nebraska at Omaha, working together with Jacobovici, obtained a license to excavate the current tomb from the Israel Antiquities Authority under the academic sponsorship of the University of North Carolina at Charlotte. Because of its physical location under a modern building (making direct access nearly impossible), along with the threat of Orthodox Jewish groups that would protest any such excavation, Tabor’s team determined to employ a minimally invasive procedure in examining the tomb.

Funding for the excavation was provided by the Discovery Channel/Vision Television/Associated Producers. Jacobovici’s team at the Toronto based Associated Producers developed a sophisticated robotic arm to carry high definition cameras, donated by General Electric. The robotic arm and a second “snake camera” were inserted through two drill holes in the basement floor of the building above the tomb. The probe was successful and the team was able to reach all the ossuaries and photograph them on all sides, thus revealing the new inscriptions.

Beyond the possible Christian connection, Tabor noted that the tomb’s assemblage of ossuaries stands out as clearly extraordinary in the context of other previously explored tombs in Jerusalem.

“Everything in this tomb seems unusual when contrasted with what one normally finds inscribed on ossuaries in Jewish tombs of this period,” Tabor said. “Of the seven ossuaries remaining in the tomb, four of them have unusual features.”

There are engravings on five of the seven ossuaries: an enigmatic symbol on ossuary 2 (possibly reading Yod Heh Vav Heh or “Yahweh” in stylized letters that can be read as Greek or Hebrew, though the team is uncertain); an inscription reading “MARA” in Greek letters (which Tabor translates as the feminine form of “lord” or “master” in Aramaic) on ossuary 3; an indecipherable word in Greek letters on ossuary 4 (possibly a name beginning with “JO…”); the remarkable four-line Greek inscription on ossuary 5; and finally, and most importantly, a series of images on ossuary 6, including the large image of a fish with a figure seeming to come out of its mouth.

Among the approximately 2000 ossuaries that have been recovered by the Israel Antiquities Authority, only 650 have any inscriptions on them, and none have inscriptions comparable to those on ossuaries 5 and 6.

Less than a dozen ossuaries from the period have epitaphs but, according to Tabor, these inscribed messages usually have to do with warnings not to disturb the bones of the dead. In contrast, the four-line Greek inscription contains some kind of statement of resurrection faith.

Tabor noted that the epitaph’s complete and final translation is uncertain. The first three lines are clear, but the last line, consisting of three Greek letters, is less sure, yielding several possible translations: “O Divine Jehovah, raise up, raise up,” or “The Divine Jehovah raises up to the Holy Place,” or “The Divine Jehovah raises up from [the dead].”

“This inscription has something to do with resurrection of the dead, either of the deceased in the ossuary, or perhaps, given the Jonah image nearby, an expression of faith in Jesus’ resurrection,” Tabor said.

The ossuary with the image that Tabor and his team understand to be representing Jonah also has other interesting engravings. These also may be connected to resurrection, Tabor notes. On one side is the tail of a fish disappearing off the edge of the box, as if it is diving into the water. There are small fish images around its border on the front facing, and on the other side is the image of a cross-like gate or entrance—which Tabor interprets as the notion of entering the “bars” of death, which are mentioned in the Jonah story in the Bible.

“This Jonah ossuary is most fascinating,” Tabor remarked. “It seems to represent a pictorial story with the fish diving under the water on one end, the bars or gates of death, the bones inside, and the image of the great fish spitting out a man representing, based on the words of Jesus, the ‘sign of Jonah’ – the ‘sign’ that he would escape the bonds of death.”

Source: http://www.bogoslov.ru/en/text/2505343/

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