She left before dawn
Dr. Michel E. Abs
Secretary General of the Middle East Council of Churches
At two o'clock yesterday night, while Sister Claire was about to enter Saint Elias church at Saint Elias al-Ras monastery, in Kesrouan, her flesh fell to the ground while her soul was freed, embracing the Redeemer.
On the threshold of the earthly church, the nurse nun fell, who for decades healed the wounds of Christ in every patient in the hospital in which she worked, and did not need anyone to bandage her wounds or give her a last drop of water.
How great are you, Sister Claire, the enlightened, leaving in the darkness of a darkened universe and a pitch-dark homeland. How great you are, you who are bent on relieving the pain of your patients, leaving in silence, not groaning, not calling for help, and not disturbing your companions in this blessed monastery in which the likes of you are raised.
When your departure was imminent, you accepted it with the humility of the apostles and the silence of the martyrs, and you walked to meet the merciful Redeemer. When it was time to leave, you did not ask anyone’s permission nor did you care about anything, but rather you went to meet the Incarnate where he is, where everyone is alive with him, where time turns into eternity.
“Blessed is the way you are going today, for I have prepared a place of rest for you,” says the ecclesiastical text.
You have the right to rest after you have spent your life providing comfort to your loved ones by virtue of your profession called the profession of angels of mercy.
The departure of the righteous is joyful and painful at the same time, but the departure is destiny, and there is no escape from fate.
You have departed in the pledge of allegiance, O benevolent nun, and those who depart in the church have "returned that which is entrusted to them". In the name of the Living Cross, you were not afraid to leave, for you have returned “from the land of the fatherless, in the nakedness of the Crucified,” as stated in the service of incense.
You were faithful with the talents that were given to you, and you fructified them as best as could be. Alleviating the pain of humankind and treating it is the noblest thing that a person can do. Your talents accompanied you until your last day in this mortal world, and there is no love greater than the love you gave to people and crowned it with the healing of your companions in the monastery.
You, daughter of the monastery, is one of the wise virgins who filled their lamps with oil, waiting for the bridegroom, and you knew the day and the hour, and you were on time, so the Lord recognized you, because by their fruits you know them.
Nurse Claire, nun, this troparion applies to you: "Behold, the bridegroom comes at midnight. Blessed is the servant whom he finds awake, but he whom he finds unaware does not deserve. See, my soul, that you do not fall asleep and be shut out of the kingdom and deliver me to death, but be watchful."
The Bridegroom came in the middle of the night and found you awake, not falling asleep, but attentive and watchful, and you entered the kingdom of heaven.
You are the one who Saint Augustine said about you: “Thus, he who believes in Christ shall live, provided he wears the wedding dress, and is called to remain, not to be expelled.”
You who touched with tenderness the wounds of the suffering, your companions in the blessed monastery of Saint Elias Al-Ras will remember you for a long time, and will miss you whenever they suffer pain or are hit with disease.
However, you can sleep tight where you are, for you have given back the talents.