Constantine
Tsertsvadze
St.
Gabriel (Ugrebadze) showed through his life a very elevated example of
eldership. He possessed the God-given gift of prophecy. He preached the Lord’s
word, sang, danced, wept, laughed, joked, rebuked, forbade, instructed, prayed,
again wept, and again laughed… One had to live side-by-side with him for a few
months in order to learn how to understand the profundity of his inner world,
and not be scandalized by his strange acts of foolishness-for-Christ. In him
was a strength before which people bow down even now—the strength of prayer and
love.
Today
is his commemoration day, and before us is a collection of stories from the
life of Elder Gabriel, which are filled with great love, make us smile, and
leave us without any doubt that he does not abandon the faithful for a minute
and continues in his very original way to work and console us in our very
troubled times.
The
sisters Nata and Manana recall how they met Fr. Gabriel in the city, were very
happy, and wanted to receive his blessing. Because it was a rainy day and they
stood before puddles, they could only make a small bow with their heads
lowered[1] They had no time to think before Fr. Gabriel plopped down into the
puddle and started asking the sisters for a blessing. The sisters had no choice
but to follow his example. Blessing them in the puddle, he winked, “One to
zero.”
He had
such love for God and neighbor that no power could stand before the elder so
enlightened with the grace of the Holy Spirit. A clear confirmation of this is
the story of how at the May 1[2] celebrations he burned down the portrait of
the “soviet leader”.[3] After this he was sent to suffer many tortures, but
this did not stop him from trying to light the flame of faith, hope, and love
in people’s hearts.
One
day he was sitting on Prospect Rustavelli in Tbilisi, with two icons lying next
to him and a cross in his hands. He boldly and loudly preached. The militia
demanded several times that he cease his preaching, but he as if did not hear
them. Nothing worked, so they seated him in the sidecar of a motorcycle and
drove him to the local police station. Fr. Gabriel made use of this chance—he
stood up to full height in the sidecar and preached with a thundering voice as
they drove: “Love our Lord Jesus Christ! Love the life-giving Cross!” The
motorcycle was barreling along, and Elder Gabriel’s ryassa was furling like a
banner… “What are you doing?” the militia angrily asked him. “You are the ones
who have provided me with a ride through the city,” the saint answered. They
stopped the motorcycle and said, “Get out, please!”
His
gift of clairvoyance was always accompanied by strange acts, or not totally
comprehensible but humorous recitations. A spiritual daughter of Elder Gabriel,
Ketevan Bekauri, recalls: “Before Nun Parasceva[4] came to the monastery, Elder
Gabriel would come out and say, jokingly: “Eh, I’ve grown old… grown old… I’m
almost like Robinson Crusoe. I need a Friday… I need a Friday!” And Friday in
Georgian [and Greek] is Parasceva. Several weeks passed, and novice Seraphima
came to the monastery; she was soon tonsured with the name Parasceva. That is
how clairvoyant he was.”
Many
did not understand his strange acts, but as years went by they were able to
guess what a saintly man they had encountered. He had a peculiar approach to
everything. Nun Parasceva recalls: “Once two women came to the elder from
Tbiliisi. They talked for a long time, and Fr. Gabriel invited them into his
cell. After sitting there for some time, the women asked his permission to
smoke, and he nonchalantly granted it. The women calmly began to smoke their
cigarettes, when suddenly a nun came to the cell, read the prayer, and asked
permission to enter. The women became confused, they were ashamed, and quickly
shoved their lit cigarettes into the hands of the elder. So there he sat with
two smoking cigarettes in his hands, in his own cell, with two women. When the
nun witnessed this scene she stammered with wonder, “What? How? How can this
be? Fr. Gabriel, are you really smoking?” The women turned red and couldn’t say
a word, while the elder raised his eyebrow, looked at the nun, and said, “Yes,
and what of it? When I want, I smoke with my right hand, and when I want, I
smoke with my left. What’s so unusual about that?!” The nun excused herself and
ran out of the cell. When the two women understood what had taken place they
quit smoking!
St.
Gabriel (Ugrebadze).
When
we laughed, Elder Gabriel would come close to us and say, “What are you
laughing about here without me? Or have you received a dispatch about your acquisition
of the Kingdom of Heaven?” He would say this with a tender smile.
Elder
Gabriel’s spiritual children called this smile a “grace-filled smile”. After
all, every act, every smile, and every word had saving power. Ketevan Bekauri
recalls, “My grandfather died. In Georgia there is a custom: When a person
departs this life, his belongings are given away to people. So, we gave away
everything, but their remained one completely new handkerchief. It was so
pretty that I wanted to give it to Fr. Gabriel. I wanted to, but I didn’t have
the courage. It was awkward. “How can I be so bold? How could I give a simple
handkerchief to such a venerable elder?!” I thought, and decided not to do it.
So, several weeks later I came to Samtavro Monastery and saw Elder Gabriel
leaning on the stairway banister, loudly pronouncing the following words:
“Everyone, come over here! I want to tell you an interesting story!” Everyone
went over to him, and naturally so did I. The elder straightened up and began
his story: “You know, I possess enormous theatrical talent. In my youth I acted
in the theater. I played the role of Othello! Othello!” Then he suddenly came
close to me and said in a sing-song voice, “Desdemona, Desdemona, where is my
kerchief, where?!” Everyone laughed, and I froze, immediately understanding
what it meant! It became clear to me that he read people’s thoughts!”
"The
saint continues his foolishness-for-Christ even after his death,” noted Elder
Gabriel’s cell attendant Nun Parasceva in an interview. Leila Sikharulidze, the
editor of a Life of Elder Gabriel, The Elder’s Diadem, talks about this.
“Finishing my work on the book, I and several of Fr. Gabriel’s spiritual
children were sitting in his cell. We joked, remembered various moments in the
life of the fool-for-Christ, and involuntarily smiled. I also wanted to say
something funny and I joked, 'Well, I’ll finish working on this book and Fr.
Gabriel will marry me off (I was seventy at the time)!' Then suddenly Fr.
Gabriel winked at me from his photograph. I froze in amazement and couldn’t say
a word. Nun Parasceva asked, 'It was the left eye, wasn’t it, Leila?' As it
turns out others also noticed this, and one of those sitting with us said,
'That’s nothing! Sometimes he even flicks us on the forehead!'”
I
would like to add a couple of my own recollections that brought me even closer
to Fr. Gabriel. We shot a film on Elder Gabriel, which premiered in Moscow in
August. We worked on the film exactly one year. I was against it ending in
Elder Gabriel’s will and testament. I said that this is a sad motif, and I did
not want the film to end on that note. They tried to persuade me but I
resisted. Then one day I had a dream: I was sitting when the elder came in and
said, “Eh, you, chubby. The will is last. You should change the music and write
in Parasceva [Nun Parasceva, the elder’s cell attendant]” I opened my eyes, and
Dato Dardjania (the film’s producer) called. And what do you think? It turns
out that the elder also appeared to him in a dream and said that the
320-kilogram chubby guy should do such and such. We of course changed the
music, and I consented to have his will and testament at the end. Well, and I
resigned myself to being called chubby.
I
would also like to share a story that happened to me on Christmas night.
Services were going on in the Trinity Cathedral, and I was serving with
Patriarch Ilya II. At the end of the service I went home. I entered the house,
turned on the light, prayed before the icon of the Savior, and went to bed.
Despite being very I tired couldn’t sleep; but this insomnia was something
special! If in other cases I would feel bad and ache all over, this time it was
something completely different! I felt some kind of joy! “No, Kostya,” I said
to myself, “get up right now!” I turned on the light. My gaze turned to the
center of the room, and I suddenly remembered how I danced five years ago.
I
thought, well, everyone expresses their reverence before the Lord in his own
way, and all rejoice—some sing, others propose toasts, sit at a laden table
(but I didn’t have any sort of laden table, and I don’t know how to sing), and
I felt like dancing for the newborn Jesus! So why not turn on the music and
dance!
I
turned on the Georgian dance called “Adjara” and at four in the morning started
dancing and saying to Jesus, “Well, my beloved Christ, all are celebrating You
and rejoicing, and I am also rejoicing!” I danced, then came closer to the
icons, made a prostration, and went to bed. Soon I had a dream. It was the same
situation. I was dancing when suddenly Elder Gabriel came in wearing a ryassa
and said, “Well now Kotiko, don’t stop,” and started dancing with me. He danced
and joked, and told me that I had gotten too fat, like a “Christmas pig”! I
laughed with my full voice! In the morning I woke up and my joy knew no bounds.
But the most unpredictable thing was yet to come! When I came home that night I
locked the doors and checked them twice, but in the morning they were open,
although no one had left, or, naturally, come in. Well, of
course except for Elder Gabriel!
Constantine Tsertsvadze
11/2/2016
[1]
Instead of a full prostration to the ground, as they would have wanted to make
before the venerable elder.—Trans.
[2]
International Workers’ Day.
[3]
Elder Gabriel set fire to a large portrait of Lenin.
[4]
Nun Parasceva would become the elder’s cell attendant until his repose.
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