Dedicated to Nikusha and Natasha, and their children Tyusha and Veriko
Very soon the Free Wanderer publishing house will publish a book about the Venerable Confessor Gabriel (Urgebadze) entitled, God Alone Knows Who Gabriel Is.
On the pages of her book, God Knows Who Gabriel Is, Ketevan Bekauri, the elder’s spiritual daughter, shares her very personal memories. Her stories are of great interest, since Ketevan was with Elder Gabriel (Urgebadze) almost on a daily basis for four years.
Most of the stories related by the author are being published for the first time. These are extremely honest reminiscences about one of the most venerated modern Georgian saints, who, out of love for God, undertook the most difficult podvig of “foolishness for Christ”. Amazingly sincere, these stories are full of faith and trust in God, warmth, depth, and humor, and have a typical Georgian flavor. Not only does the book introduce readers to events from the life of Elder Gabriel, but it also allows you to get a glimpse of the unique spiritual experience of this saint.
On the first day of Lent, when the whole convent does not eat anything, the sisters drink even water with temperance, and the Great Canon of St. Andrew of Crete is read in all churches, I also wanted to observe the fast as strictly as I could. That morning I went to see Father Gabriel in his cell. I found him lying on his bed and looking at the ceiling, saying regretfully:
“I’ve been a monk for forty years… Well, what would happen if I was given just one chicken? [He always pronounced this word in Russian, as well as many other words and expressions, such as “cell” and “the first and last monk”. He also had several tattoos from the time of his imprisonment, including on his shoulder, in Russian: “I will never forget my mother”. What would happen if they didn’t grudge a chicken for me... good rissoles... kabobs... cabbage rolls..., khashlama!1... khinkali2... shish kabobs... (He enumerated all this with long pauses). I want good shish kabobs, a good chicken!.. I want chicken, chicken! Kabobs, good shish kabobs!.. Khinkali!!! And good dolma!!!3 Hot khashlama! I’ve been a monk for forty years!.. I am a hungry and sick man!.. Don’t I really deserve just one chicken?! I’m going to die if I don’t eat it!”
For a very long time—almost half an hour—he enumerated the most delicious meat dishes. Meanwhile, his words whetted my appetite. Finally, he said:
“The doctor told me, ‘Gabriel, you have low hemoglobin. You mustn’t fast! You need to eat liver! Your remedy is liver!’ I’ve got to eat it every day. I’m sick. My doctor has forbidden me to fast! If I don’t eat liver every day, I’m going to die!!! I wish I had good kaurma!4 But who will give it to me?”
And he even cried a little as he said it.
“It’s not the time to fast now! Let’s cook some good kaurma! Let’s enjoy a good meal! I’ll give you some money: go to the market and buy some liver.”
Overjoyed, I went and fulfilled his blessing.
The nuns of Samtavro Convent generally abide by a very strict rule. Therefore, I thought I should take all precautions: “It will be awkward to cut liver in the cell during Lent.” But as soon as I walked inside, Fr. Gabriel blessed me:
“There’s not enough air for me here to breathe!... Let’s go outside. Cut it there! And do everything exactly [he always pronounced this word in Russian as well.—Auth.] as I tell you. Today you are fully in my obedience!”
I was embarrassed, but it couldn’t be helped. I obeyed, looking forward to finishing cooking as soon as possible. And he sat me down in the most conspicuous place. He took a seat next to me and blessed me very sternly:
“Well, you’re in my obedience today. Try your best! Cut as finely as possible and as slowly as possible! Cut it more slowly, more slowly!!! Into smaller, even smaller pieces!!! I’m not in a hurry... We’ve got to make good, delicious kaurma. So delicious that the Pope of Rome would ask us, ‘Let me try it too!’”
I got down to work. As I was cutting the liver, I felt very ashamed in the presence of the nuns. Fr. Gabriel proceeded very loudly so that everyone around him could hear him:
“Today I must eat excellent kaurma. My hemoglobin is low. The doctor ordered me to do so…”
And he began to enumerate meat dishes again. At some point I started cutting faster. He immediately yelled at me:
“What did I tell you?! Cut more slowly! I’m not in a hurry!”
For almost two hours I cut that miserable liver into very small pieces! At last I finished, and under the elder’s careful guidance, put a saucepan on the kerosene stove. And I began to cook kaurma, simultaneously following all his numerous instructions on when and what to put into the saucepan and when to stir it.
“Open the lid, put the pepper inside, close the lid! Take the salt, open the lid, add some salt! Close the lid! Open the lid, stir with a spoon! That’s enough! Enough! Now some herbs! Now let’s see! Enough! Come on, close the lid quickly!”
And so it went on for an hour and a half. There were two different worlds. In one world there was an ancient convent with its strict monastic rule, in which Lent was beginning; and in the other, in the center of the same convent, in front of all the nuns, I was cutting liver and cooking kaurma for three or four hours.
Meanwhile, I had completely forgotten that there was a strict fast, and my only desire was to start eating as soon as possible. I turned the kerosene stove off, removed the lid from the saucepan and got ready to eat. And suddenly Fr. Gabriel jumped on me in terrible fury:
“What have you done!!! Did I bless you to open the lid?! You vicious double-crosser!!! Are you going to eat my kaurma during Lent? And leave me without kaurma?! Do you have low hemoglobin too?!!”
Then he swore at me with obscene words and drove me away. And even shouted after me:
“Did you want to break the fast, you traitor?!! Remember: You will be punished as many times as you break the fast!!!”
From: Ketevan Bekauri; translated from Georgian by N. L. Kargareteli-Voronina, God Alone Knows Who Gabriel Is (Moscow: Volny Strannik, 2024)
