Transfiguration

While reading the Transfiguration account in the Gospel this morning and I remembered that phone conversation I had this August...

There is an old Russian priest, father Ilya (Elijah in English), old and very simple man – his education is limited to elementary school long ago in Turkey, so he speaks a bit illiterate Russian and almost no English. He’s a man and thus certainly is not ideal, but he’s a very good one, of fervent faith, genuine humility and love towards God and His children. If not a saint, he is, I believe, at least very close to that. Now he’s retired, but until recently he had served Liturgy and all other daily services pretty much every day for the last few decades. During the services, he usually struggled and stumbled as he read the Gospel during the Liturgies; but he often stopped because he couldn’t restrain tears rolling out of his eyes, and you can imagine how that affected us.

I have not seen him in a long time, and after the Liturgy on that Transfiguration day in August I wanted to call and greet him, and simply hear his voice and let him know he’s remembered. So, I called and told him that I missed him. I could hear him smiling as he responded in his beautiful simplicity: “Don’t you miss me; miss Him. Did you read today’s Gospel – how Moses and Elijah came to Mount Tabor to Him? Do you know why they came there? they just wanted to be with Him!"