The tears cleansed his soul as well as his face. For the first time in his life, Amvrosy felt his soul was finding peace. Amvrosy’s gradual sense that he was finding that peace was born not from overall reverence (his renown was greater than at any time before) but also not from the indifference that seizes many worthy people as they near old age. His sense of peace was tied to a hope that strengthened ever more and more in Amvrosy with each day he lived in the monastery. He no longer doubted the correctness of his path: he was satisfied that he was walking the only possible path.
He did not sense his previous alarm when he looked into the raging flames. More accurately, the alarm remained but at times the thought of an impending eternal flame ceded its place to memories of the past. Now he did not just see his childhood. He saw his life in Pskov and his wanderings. Amvrosy imagined Jerusalem when he closed his eyes by the hot stove.
Low trees in the Garden of Gethsemane. With broad, cracked trunks. With branches like twisted fingers. As crooked and broken as a frozen scream. The stone slabs of roadways, polished by many centuries of walking to Him. They retain the sun’s warmth all night. One can lie on them without the fear of catching cold. Amvrosy grasped that, when he lay on the warm slabs to sleep. When there was nowhere else to sleep. When he was still Arseny.
He was nursed back to health outside Jerusalem after a blow from a Mamluk’s sword. Two elderly Jews, he and she. They lived outside Jerusalem for fear of Mamluks. And it was clear from their faces that they had no children. Their names were Tadeusz and Jadwiga. And they cared for him. No, they were the ones who cared for the dying Vlasy, others cared for the dying Arseny. Perhaps they were Abraham and Sarah. The elderly always care for someone. As it happened, the dying Arseny survived. The elderly couple gave him oatcakes, water, and a little money for the road, and he set off for Jerusalem.
The ill continued to come to Amvrosy. There were many of them, though there could have been more visitors, had circumstances been different. Several factors contributed to reducing the flow. The primary factor was Elder Innokenty, who forbade disturbing Amvrosy for no real reason. He did not consider treating teeth, removing warts, or other such things worthy grounds for appealing to Arseny, for they distracted him from other, more serious, cases.
I request, announced the elder, that individuals resolve issues of this nature within their local communities.
The abundance of visitors was not just a distraction for Amvrosy. It also bothered the monastery’s brethren, who had withdrawn from the world. Beyond that, it disturbed many that people frequently went straight to Amvrosy, without ever giving thought to prayer, repentance, and salvation.
These people, said the steward father, forget it is our Lord in the heavens who brings recovery, not Brother Amvrosy.
Brother Melety was the first to greet those who came for help: he decided how to handle each case. He sent some home immediately without even hearing them out. This included the great majority, who had lost or never had virility. Melety saw no necessity to restore it, stating that, in his own experience, it was far more difficult to achieve the opposite effect. The exceptions were those living in a childless marriage: after an appropriate prayer, Melety brought these people to Amvrosy. Bedroom thoughts were bestirred after visiting the monastery. After the birth of a child, however, those thoughts quickly disappeared with the aid of Melety’s prayers.
The strictness of Elder Innokenty and Brother Melety was not the only reason the flow of visitors to Amvrosy dwindled rather than increased. Many residents of the Belozersk region did not appeal for help because—in light of the possible end of the world—they perceived no critical need. They thought they could tough out the short time left until that dreadful event. Or, at the very least, simply die, for a deferment of the fatal hour seemed insignificant to many.
There were, however, those who not only did not want to come to terms with death but also reflected on ways to overcome it, even in the case of a universal end. It was among these people that a rumor began to spread, saying Amvrosy possessed the elixir of immortality. That Amvrosy, when he was still Arseny, had allegedly brought that elixir from Jerusalem.
Despite the absurdity of the rumor, its emergence surprised no one at the monastery.
Some peoples’ nerves give out when waiting for the end of the world, said Elder Innokenty. And there is a certain logic that they await the elixir of immortality from Amvrosy. In seeking immortality for the flesh and blood, who else might they turn to if not a doctor?
Brother Melety attempted to explain to many of them that Amvrosy had no elixir, but they did not believe him. Fearing that there would not be enough elixir for everyone when the time came, some people settled in by the monastery walls and built themselves some semblance of housing. They imagined the monastery could function like a new ark that might take them in if the necessity arose.
Amvrosy came to see these people when their numbers topped one hundred. He looked at their squalid housing for a long time and then signaled to them to follow him. After entering the monastery’s gates, Amvrosy led them into the Church of the Dormition of the Mother of God. A service was finishing in the church at that same time and Elder Innokenty walked through the royal doors of the iconostasis carrying the Communion chalice. A ray of morning sun broke away from a grated window. The ray of sun was still weak. It slowly fought its way through the thick smoke of incense. It devoured barely perceptible dust motes one by one: once inside, they began swirling in a pensive Brownian dance. The ray of sun brightened the church as it played on the silver of the chalice. That light was so brilliant that those who entered squinted. Amvrosy pointed to the chalice and said:
The elixir of immortality is in there and there is enough for everyone.
At one time, the abbot transferred Amvrosy from the kitchen to the scriptorium because there were not enough scribes at the monastery. Three other people sat there along with Amvrosy. Elder Innokenty brought manuscripts for copying. His bold notations of hence and hither were all over the manuscripts’ pages. Ambrosius followed those instructions meticulously.
Amvrosy’s work days began with sharpening quills and marking paper. He would place a wooden block near the edge of the page of the manuscript being copied so it would not close. A thin strip of paper slid down the manuscript page, allowing him not to lose his place. He held the strip with his left hand and wrote with his right. The strip moved down, revealing line after line.
And another brother was deade, after being very ill. And one of his friends cleansed him with a sponge and went into the cave: he wished to see the place where his friend’s body would be laid, so he asked the Venerable Marko about this. The blessed man answered him: Go, tell the brother to wait until tomorrow while I dig his grave, and then he can pass from this life into repose. The brother said to him: O Father Marko, I have already even used a sponge to cleanse his body, which is dead. Who do you bid me to speak with? And Marko said again: as you can see, his place is not ready. I enjoin you to go and tell the departed: the sinful Marko is telling you, brother, live this day, too, then tomorrow you will pass on to our beloved Lord. So I will send for you when I have prepared a place to put you. The brother who had come listened to the venerable man. When he arrived at the monastery, he found the brethren in song over the departed, as was the custom. And he stood alongside the deceased and said: Marko tells you that your place is not ready, O brother, wait until tomorrow. And everyone was surprised by these words. And as soon as the brother uttered them in the syghte of everyone, the departed saw the light immediately and his soul returned to him. And he dwelled that day and all night with open eyes but said nothing to anyone.