The earthly end of Father Ilarion Felea
It was around 1960-61, in the cell in Aiud. One day it was announced, through the media, from the prison, from the wall, from the Morse code on the wall: Father Ilarion Felea has died!
Who didn’t know Father Felea in Aiud? We all knew from each other that he was a professor at the Orthodox Theological Academy in Arad, he was my teacher and above all my teacher.
We knew him, us the ones who were from Bihor and Arad, the people from Bucharest knew him, and especially the Romanian Academy, which awarded him the prize for his books. He was an excellent preacher in the cathedral of Arad and wherever the Church called him. In the cathedral, the faithful and the students could always reproduce his sermons, such was his popularity.
At the Theological Academy, his desk was transformed into a pulpit, and he had a captivating baritone voice. Twenty pens were spread out on his notebook to cover the day’s lesson. Physically he was an imposing figure of a man, his bearded face was like the head of an effigy, he was generous and communicative, that’s why everyone liked him.
He was a native of the Criș Alb valley, which perhaps gave him his high destiny. He was invited to various events and occasions: “Father, sing us a song from Iancu!”… and he would sing softly and sweetly, taking them to the lands of Iancu and Horea in the times of moți people’s dignity.
He wrote with great spirit about the holy things of God and the worthy history of our nation. I took him with me wherever I went as a spiritual mentor in my life as a priest and shepherd of souls. That is why he was so well known to many in the Orthodox world and other denominations. In Aiud and in the other prisons, he was known for his expositions and biblical texts, which he transmitted on the tape recorder, especially to the young people.
In Aiud there were high ranking figures from other denominations, but none had the popularity of Father Staniloae, the hieromonk Anania and Father Ilarion Felea, all of whom were in Aiud at the time.
When someone dies outside, all the relatives come and spend it according to all the Christian rites. Father Felea was with our souls, we, his “brothers and relatives” of ideals and suffering. He was not old, but he died because he did not receive the medical care that was “planned” in the communist prisons.
The people, we prisoners, watched the sick man’s progress until he closed his eyes.
When we heard the news of his transfer to the Lord, we kept vigil for two evenings until they took him to the grave at the “Three Poplars”, the cemetery for political prisoners. On the second evening, the people downstairs, near the morgue where Father Felea’s body was, raised the alarm: “Now they’re taking Father Felea to the grave!”
In fact, they could hear a cart pulled by a horse with two guards, carrying his coffin. There were three gates to the main gate, and in the silence of the night you could hear the cart.
We sat under the blanket, it was after 10 o’clock, curfew time, we didn’t move. Now the “burial service” began. All 5000 political prisoners in Aiud, assisted by 400 Orthodox priests, prayed according to custom: “Rest with the saints, O Lord, the soul of your servant, Ilarion the priest, where there is no pain, no sorrow, no sighing, but life without end”.
These words were said by all, even if there was no priest in the cell; if there was a priest, a more elaborate ritual was performed, also under the blanket.
Those below told us that they had reached the main gate, where the most sinister scene took place: the officer on duty came with a sharp iron rod and drove it into the heart of the deceased to convince the “master” of the man’s death. What a grim and dark scene, worthy of the Middle Ages, but it took place in modern times, in the communist era.
The hearse was taken to the “Three Poplars”, a wooden pole was placed at the head of the deceased and a tin plate with the prisoner’s serial number was tapped onto it. According to the communist codes, this was all that remained of the man’s life.
When the last words of “Amen” were uttered at the end of the last prayer, the Morse code could still be heard on the wall and the radiator: “God forgive him, may his memory live forever”.
(Pr. Ioan Bărdaș, “A funeral at Aiud” in Telegraful român no. 31-34 of 1994, p. 4)