There are two incidents in my life, when I feel that Archbishop John greatly helped me… The first happened before I was Orthodox.
I had read a great deal about the Orthodox Church and had come to believe that it was the true Church. After many difficulties, I made contact with a priest and started attending the Russian Church at Emperor's Gate in London. After I had been attending for some time, an elderly priest (actually from the Greek Church) said to me very forcefully, "It is not enough to believe that the Orthodox Church is the true Church; you must always remember that every Liturgy in the Orthodox Church is celebrated on the relics of martyrs, and before being received you must be prepared to die for Orthodoxy." This rather frightened me and even confused me a little because I did not see how I could be sure of such conviction. In theory, yes, I could die for it — but what would happen when they started to interrogate me or torture me?
Several weeks later at the Sunday Liturgy, I was kneeling at the "Our Father" — I did not know yet that this was wrong, (Church canons proscribe kneeling in church on Sundays, for the sake of the honor of Christ's Resurrection) but God reaches even the ignorant — when I was flooded with the conviction that I should become Orthodox and that conviction left me with a feeling of peace and joy. After the Liturgy, I was anxious to tell the priest that I now felt at peace about becoming Orthodox, but a memorial service followed immediately, with the bishop and all the clergy serving. I had no understanding of Slavonic and was rather irritated that another service was going to begin. I turned and asked an old lady who the panikhida was for, and she replied, "For Archbishop John." I remember clearly thinking, "These Russians always have some old archbishop or other to pray for." At the end of the panikhida, there was no opportunity to speak with the priest alone. He lived out of town and spent Sunday afternoons visiting members of his flock. Just before leaving, however, he came to the house where I was staying to see the elderly couple who lived there. I thought that I would have no opportunity to speak to him, and felt shy, wondering how to express it in any case. Then, as he was about to leave, he turned and asked, 'Isn't it about time you became Orthodox?" I had not needed to prepare a speech or think what to say. I became Orthodox on Saint Marina's day, 1967. Several months passed and only then in The Orthodox Word did I read a life of Vladika John. Immediately I realized that the Sunday on which I had felt such conviction was the first anniversary of the repose of Blessed Archbishop John, and I understood that it was through his intercessions that this mercy was granted me.
Years later, when I was living in a monastery in the States, I was told that I was to be made an archimandrite and sent back to England. I had grave misgivings about this, but they were overruled. Only a date had to be fixed. I read somewhere that becoming an archimandrite was likened unto the special ministry with which the Apostles entrusted Saint Barnabas, and so I thought perhaps that I might receive some consolation if the prayer of elevation [to the rank of archimandrite] was read on his feast day, but that did not happen. At the last moment it was decided that the elevation would take place on the anniversary of the repose of Blessed Archbishop John, and again I felt assured of his loving care, especially as I was being appointed to a church which he had blessed and in which he had celebrated when in Europe.
To the outsider these instances are not striking miracles perhaps, but through them my darkened soul experienced the love of Vladika John. I earnestly hope that Vladika will be glorified by the Church on earth, as I believe that he has been by the Church in heaven.
A.A., England