Former Muslim Yusuf Abdul Oglu lived an adventurous life. The hand of God guided him when his own household rejected and betrayed him, his homeland Turkey persecuted him, and his new homeland Russia looked upon him with suspicion. His search and discovery of Christ was a cross to bear — filled with torment, danger, and trials. He was deemed worthy not only to come to know the true faith and be baptized, but also to receive the angelic schema, and by the grace of God to witness and taste “visions and revelations of the Lord.” Like the Apostle Paul, at the end of his life he “was caught up into Paradise and heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter” — experiences and states few have ever lived. A powerful testimony that “God is no respecter of persons, but in every nation, whoever fears Him and works righteousness is accepted by Him.”
Monk Nicholas of Optina:
On Thursday, May 13th, around three in the morning, I began reading the Akathist to Saint Nicholas the Wonderworker. The Lord sent me such a blessing that I was overcome with tears. The entire book was soaked with my tears. When I finished the Orthros (Matins), I began to read Psalm 50, “Have mercy on me, O God…” and then the Symbol of Faith (the Creed). I read the whole thing and ended with the words, “I look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen.”
At that moment, an invisible hand took my hands, crossed them, and my head was surrounded by a fire that looked like the yellow color of a rainbow.
This fire did not burn me, but it filled my entire body with indescribable joy — a joy I had never felt before. It was a joy unlike anything of this world. I don’t remember when or how, but I found myself in a wondrous and beautiful place, a landscape full of light. I saw nothing there resembling anything on earth — only an infinite sea of light.
Then, two people appeared to my left: one was a young man and the other an elder. I came to know that the young man was Saint Andrew the Fool-for-Christ, and the elder was his disciple, Saint Epiphanius. Both were silent. Immediately, I saw before me a burgundy curtain. I looked above the curtain and saw the Lord Jesus Christ. He was seated on a throne, wearing resplendent vestments like a High Priest, and a mitre on His head. To His right stood the Theotokos (Mother of God), and to His left, Saint John the Forerunner, dressed as in the holy icons. Saint John held the Cross of the Lord in one hand. To the right and left of the Lord stood two radiant young men holding swords of light.
My heart was filled with unspeakable joy. I gazed upon the Savior and rejoiced simply in seeing His face. The Lord appeared to be about thirty years old. Then I realized: I, the greatest sinner, worse even than a dog, had been granted by the Lord such mercy — to be before His throne of glory.
The Lord looked at me tenderly, as if He wished to give me strength. The Theotokos and Saint John the Forerunner also looked at me in the same way. But from neither the Lord, nor the Theotokos, nor Saint John did I hear even a single word.
I also saw before the Lord our skete’s hieromonk, Fr. Nicholas Lopatin, who had died at noon on May 10th. We had not yet buried him, as we were waiting for his brother to arrive from Moscow. Fr. Nicholas was making prostrations before the Lord, but he was not wearing monastic garments — he wore the garb of a novice. He held a prayer rope in his hands and his head was uncovered. Whether the Lord or the saints said anything to him, I do not know.
Then I looked to the right and saw many people approaching me. As they drew closer, I began to hear beautiful and sweet hymns, but I couldn’t make out the words or what exactly they were singing. When they came near, I could see them better. Some wore the vestments of bishops and priests, others were monks, and some carried palm branches. There were many women too, wearing rich and beautiful clothing. On their faces, I recognized many saints I knew from icons — the Prophet Moses, holding the tablets in his right hand, the Prophet David, holding a musical instrument like a dulcimer and playing wonderful melodies. I saw my patron saint, Saint Nicholas.
Among them, I also recognized several elders of Optina who had already reposed — like Leonid, Macarius, Ambrose — and a few elders from the monastery who were still alive. All these holy people of God were looking at me.
Then a great, dark and deep abyss appeared between me and the curtain — like a ravine — but the darkness did not prevent me from seeing into its depths. There, I saw the king of darkness, as he is depicted in icons. On his lap sat Judas, holding a money bag. Next to him was the false prophet Mohammed, wearing a green robe and green turban. Around Satan, in the center of the abyss, were many people of various ages — men and women — though I didn’t recognize anyone.
From that abyss rose voices of despair and terror — voices that cannot be described in words…
This terrifying vision ended. Suddenly, I found myself in another place, again full of light and resembling the first place I had seen. Saints Andrew and Epiphanius were no longer at my side. It is hard to describe the beauty of that place. A beauty that cannot be conveyed in words. If here on earth we sometimes struggle to describe nature’s beauty — using colors and sounds — how can I, a poor man, describe the beauties of Paradise? The human tongue is too poor to express this wondrous vision.
I saw great and beautiful trees, heavy with fruit. They were planted side by side like a forested path. I could not see where the road ended. The branches joined above, forming a lush green canopy. The path beneath was paved with something like pure gold. The ground sparkled. In the trees were many birds, resembling tropical birds, but far more beautiful. Their singing was so harmonious — no earthly music could compare to the sweetness of their song. They sang without words.
In that great garden, there was also a river of crystal-clear water. In the distance, among the trees, I saw beautiful monasteries. They looked like palaces — reminiscent of those in Constantinople — but these were of indescribable beauty. The walls were purple, like rubies. Paradise reminded me of our skete in Optina, where the monks’ cells are spaced apart, with fruit trees between them. Who designed our skete in this way, I do not know.
Paradise was surrounded by a wall. I saw only the southern side. On the wall were written the names of the Twelve Apostles. I don’t remember in what language they were written.
I also saw a man clothed in brilliant garments, seated on a white throne. He appeared about 60 years old, though his face looked like that of a young man. Around him were many poor people to whom he was giving something. A voice told me that this man was Saint Philaret the Merciful. Apart from him, I was not granted to see any other of the holy inhabitants of Paradise.
In the center of Paradise, I saw the life-giving Cross with the crucified Lord. An invisible hand gestured for me to venerate the Cross. I knelt before it, and as I bowed, my heart was filled with heavenly sweetness — like a warm flame filling my whole body.
After this, I saw a great monastery, more beautiful than the others. Its roof resembled the dome of a church and rose so high it disappeared into the sky. In this monastery, on a balcony, I saw a radiant throne upon which sat the Queen of Heaven. Around her were many beautiful young men in shining white robes, holding scepter-like objects, though I couldn’t tell what they were. The Queen of Heaven wore the same garments as in icons, but more colorful. Upon her head was a royal crown. She looked at me tenderly and said something, but I was not granted to hear her words.
Then, I was granted a vision of the Holy Trinity: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit — just as they are depicted in holy icons — the Father as a venerable Elder, the Son as a younger Man holding the life-giving Cross in His right hand, and the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove. I saw this vision of the Holy Trinity in the air. It seemed that I walked in Paradise for a long time, enjoying its beauties — beauties that surpass all human understanding.
When the vision ended and I found myself alone in my cell again, I thanked God for this great consolation and joy I, a great sinner, had been granted. The rest of that day, I was beside myself from the overwhelming joy that filled my heart. Nothing in this life could compare to the joy I felt — and never again experienced.
Source:
“Monk Nicholas of Optina, in the world Yusuf Abdul Oglu,” Staretz Barsanuphius, ed. Archim. Nektarios Antonopoulos, Akritas Publications, pp. 99–
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