A True Story: “A Priest Is the Donkey upon Which Christ Rides”

From time to time the Lord teaches us the priesthood not by treatise but by tears—and by small, decisive acts of mercy. The calling is not self-display, but to become the humble bearer of Another, like the lowly creature that once carried the King into Jerusalem, so that Christ Himself might enter the life of a suffering soul.

The reflection that follows, by Deacon Dionisy Akhalashvili, tells of such an encounter and how one pastor’s compassion opened a way back to God.

We share it here for your prayer and pastoral meditation.

I have a good friend—Archpriest Nikolai. Merely to think of him warms my heart. Though many years have passed since we last met, I pray for him daily as if he were my own kin, and I remember our first meeting to this day.

It was late autumn. Everything in my life was unraveling: I had abandoned my university studies, broken off with my girlfriend, had no work, felt needed by no one, and knew not what to do.

I went to the nearest church simply because there was nowhere else left to go. We met during confession. I simply approached the first priest I saw and unburdened myself of my wayward life.

It was the first time in my life that a priest wept over me.

He stood there with his head bowed, weeping uncontrollably. And then he very earnestly urged me to come to the Church—he did not merely instruct or direct, but rather entreated. Thus we became acquainted.

After confession Father Nikolai asked, “Do you have a passport? You will go with us to Moscow!” By “with us” he meant a group of parish children and their chaperones. Everything felt like a dream. He led me to some people and said, “Take his passport and buy him a ticket. He is coming with us.” He handed them my passport and smiled radiantly. In this way I found myself at the Holy Trinity–St. Sergius Lavra and at many of Moscow’s sacred sites.

On the return journey, while we were on the train, Father Nikolai came over, embraced me—and suddenly there was money in my hand. He quickly put his hands behind his back and said, “Take it, take it! You’ll need it at the start! I won’t take it back anyway!” And with that he stepped out of the compartment.

He was a stranger to me then, not someone near or dear, yet he could not pass by when another was in distress. Later we visited Elder Nikolai Guryanov together on Zalit Island and many other holy places besides, but I shall never forget our first meeting—and I will tell my children about it.

Some might dismiss this story with a gesture of disbelief; others might scoff, “The clergy are living in luxury!” But for that lost youth, drenched by the cold autumn rain, it was the resounding call of an archangel’s trumpet from Paradise—by which he awoke, rose, and, though at first unsteady, began to walk toward the light and toward God, whom he encountered in this humble, slender priest.

I still remember his words about the priestly ministry: “The priest is the donkey upon which Christ rides.”

—Deacon Dionisy Akhalashvili

Afterword

May this witness renew in us a quiet courage for the “small obediences”: to draw near, to weep with those who weep, and to act without delay.

Remember in your prayers those who search for a new beginning, and the pastors who—often unseen—bear the Lord to them.

With prayerful love,

Your OCC Team