Christmas (I)

Image by Linda Richardson

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, Christ is born. Glorify Him. May we too mystically return to our ‘country’, our ‘normal’ lives, after these Twelve Days, by “another way” (cf. Matthew 2:12), like the Magi, radically changed in our hearts! Because there is another way for each one of us. Not the way of the world, not the way of death, not the way of mundane life, of anger and confusion and busyness, of sorrow, sin, loneliness and suffering. But another way, for each one of us, obtainable because of our mystical meeting with Jesus Christ at the Manger, “at the next inn”.

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Christmas I

By George Herbert

After all pleasures as I rid one day,
My horse and I, both tired, body and mind,
With full cry of affections, quite astray;
I took up the next inn I could find.

There when I came, whom found I but my dear,
My dearest Lord, expecting till the grief
Of pleasures brought me to Him, ready there
To be all passengers’ most sweet relief?

Oh Thou, whose glorious, yet contracted light,
Wrapt in night’s mantle, stole into a manger;
Since my dark soul and brutish is Thy right,
To man of all beasts be not Thou a stranger:

Furnish and deck my soul, that Thou mayst have
A better lodging, than a rack, or grave.

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George Herbert is probably my favourite poet. Even in this ‘simple’ sonnet, the Nativity story is told from an innovative angle, and realigns one of Herbert’s favourite tropes for denoting the relationship of God and the soul, that of a kindly host and needy guest.

Shoppers and partygoers, busy staff and busy-er families alike might sympathise with the exhausted rider (“quite astray”) evoked at the beginning of Christmas (I). The unexpected opening modifier, “After all pleasures,” contains an important ambiguity. The preposition “after” suggests both a following in time, and an actual pursuit. Herbert’s speaker, seemingly, is exhausted both by the pleasures experienced and by the process of chasing them, as if unsatisfied pursuit, unsatisfied consumption and busyness were as crazily embroiled in the 17th century as the 21st.

The older meaning of “affection” is “disposition”, and the plural, “affections”, in line three, suggests a throng of bodily and emotional needs, rushing about like hunting dogs that are “in full crie” and yet have lost the scent of their prey. There’s no lecture on the emptiness of pleasure-seeking – simply a vividly realised picture of heated chase and confused disappointment – “the grief/ Of pleasures …” What an amazing line and how theologically true echoing the Prodigal Son parable! How patiently is the Lord awaiting each one of us until “the grief of pleasures” brings us to Him and then He offers relief!

That the inn where the rider pauses is partly an ordinary country inn, a natural place of recovery for huntsman and horse, is suggested by the wonderfully casual demotic of “I took up in the next inne I could finde”. But this inn is also the one in Bethlehem, whose stables are Christ’s birthplace. Touching on his favourite, lovely “hospitality” metaphor, Herbert reveals that Christ is already there, awaiting the traveller “and all passengers” like the kindliest of welcoming hosts.

A little metaphysical punning follows. God has “contracted” his light to be born in human time; he has made his light very much smaller to suit his incarnation, and he has made mankind a binding promise. There’s an almost maternal tenderness in this image of God “wrapt in night’s mantle”.

The mood is picked up in the emotional repetition of the epithet, “My dear,/ My dearest Lord …” From then on, the sonnet turns from first-person narrative to direct apostrophe, from anecdote to prayer.

The symbolism of Christ’s rebirth in the human soul is hardly original. But Herbert’s metaphysics are always strongly rooted in the actual, and his speaker’s prayer is sharp and fresh when he pleads, “To Man of all beasts be not thou a stranger …” The supposed overlord of the animal kingdom, Man, is singled out but also “contracted” at a stroke, to become just another beast in the stable. An almost timid recognition of how distant such a being is from God underlines the plea, “Be not thou a stranger”.

And then Herbert lightens the mood with a new metaphor, one of immediate interest to any of his parishioners planning to “deck the hall” – or the hovel. But the reference is only briefly playful, and Herbert’s speaker is looking ahead to the crucifixion when he asks that his “dark soul and brutish” be furnished and decked so as to be a fit lodging for Christ, “better … than a rack or grave”. (Cf. Carol Rumens’ Poem of the Week, 2014, The Guardian).

The conclusion of this poem where the weary traveller after a day (a life?) of travel, finds solace in the presence of God comes in such start contrast to the closing lines of Robert Frost’s dark, winter poem, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”:

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.”

How blessed are we that in the darkness of our world, the light of His presence breaks through piercing our personal struggle with the company of angels. Christ is born. Glorify Him.

May we too return to our ‘country’, our ‘normal’ lives, by “another way” (cf. Matthew 2:12), like the Magi, radically changed in our hearts!

A Lonely Christmas

* “The Christmas of a Lonely Woman”, by St. Nikolai Velimirovich. Dedicated to all those struggling, especially during this holiday season, with sadness, loneliness, and depression. Truly wondering why such sorrow, suffering and depression, especially in these days, is so widespread. Is it because of our extreme self-centredness or is there truly such extreme sorrow and anguish in our world? Such a temptation! Such a ‘difficult’ feast for all those who are ‘alone’. “I alone am left, and they seek to take my life.” 3 Kingdoms 19:10 Μόνος, μονώτατος ειμι!

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A blessed feast, dear brothers and sisters. “The sacrifices of God is a broken and contrite heart. 11 of the 12 Apostles were martyrs, each facing a commission and personal struggle. It is not a coincidence that we celebrate St. Stephen in two days’ time the protomartyr. Courage, not comfort, is the Christian calling. Yet in the darkness of our world, the light of His presence breaks through piercing our personal struggle with the company of angels. Christ is born. Glorify Him.” (Fr. J.H.)

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‘You complain about loneliness in the middle of a big city. So many people around you seethe like an anthill, and you still feel like you are in the desert. On major holidays the situation is unbearable. Everywhere joy is overflowing, while you are being pushed towards sadness. The festive days of Christmas and Easter seem like empty containers that you fill with tears. When these holy feasts are far behind or ahead of you, you are calmer. But when they approach and come, grief and desolation conquer your soul.
What can I do for you? I will tell you the story of Joanna’s Christmas, because perhaps it will benefit you. I will leave it to her to narrate it, just as she told it to me.


“For forty-something years I have seen this world as a woman. Never any joy, except a little as a child in the home of my parents. But before the world I didn’t show I was sad. Before people I pretended to be joyful, and in my loneliness I wept. Everyone considered me a happy creature, since I showed as much. I would hear complaints all around me, from the married and the unmarried, the rich and the poor, everyone. And I thought: Why should I also complain to these miserable ones about my own misery, and just increase the sorrow around me? God, if I show myself happy I will be more useful in this unhappy world, but my secret I will hide within and I will cry in my loneliness. I prayed to God to show Himself to me somehow, at least one of His fingers so I can feel. I prayed thus, in order to not disappear in my hidden sadness. From any income I gave to charity anywhere I had an opportunity. I would visit the sick and the orphans, and brought them joy from my own apparent joy. ‘I believe in You, my good God,’ I would frequently say, ‘but I beg You, appear to me in some way, to believe in You more. I believe, Lord, help my unbelief’ (Mk. 9:24). I would repeat these words from the Gospel. And indeed, I experienced the Lord’s appearance to me.

Most difficult for me were the big holidays. After the Liturgy I would shut myself in my room and I cried the whole Christmas and Easter. But last Christmas God appeared to me. This happened as follows. The big day was approaching. I decided to prepare everything like my mother prepared for me: meat and pasta and deserts and everything else. ‘May the Holy Trinity be merciful to the four corners of the earth.’ While I did these things I prayed without ceasing: ‘Lord, send me visitors, but especially the totally hungry and poor! I beg You, appear to me in this way.’ Now and then I thought: ‘Crazy Joanna, what visitors are you waiting for on Christmas? On this holy day everyone is in their own home. How will someone come and visit you?’ And I cried and cried. But again I would repeat the prayer as I was preparing.
When I returned home from church on Christmas, I lit the candle and laid out the table. I put out all the food, and I began to walk back and forth in the room. ‘My God, do not abandon me!’ Again I prayed. Few passed by on the road. It was Christmas, and our road was deserted. But once the snow crackled under someone’s feet, I flew to the door! ‘Perhaps it is my visitor? It isn’t.’ This is how I passed my time. The afternoon came and went, and I was alone. I began to cry and scream: ‘Now I see, Lord, that You have forsaken me altogether.’ This is how I wept and I silently wept continuously!
Suddenly someone knocked on the door, and I heard voices: ‘Give brother, give sister.’ I quickly ran and opened the door. Before me stood a blind man with his guide, both hunched, ragged and frozen. ‘Christ is born, my sirs!’ I cried out merrily. ‘Truly He is born!’ they rattled with their teeth trembling. ‘Mercy, sister, have mercy on us! We are not asking for money. From this morning nobody has offered us bread, some money or a glass of raki. We are very hungry.” Because of my joy I was lifted up to the third heaven. I led them into my home and served them a full table. With tears of joy I served them. Intimidated they asked me: ‘Why are you crying, miss?’ ‘Out of joy, my sirs, out of sheer and bright joy! That for which I prayed to God was given to me by God. I prayed to Him for a few days, to send me exactly the visitors such as you are, and behold, such He sent me. You did not come here by chance, but my good Lord sent you. Today He appeared to me through you. This is the most joyful Christmas of my life. Now I know that our God is alive. Glory to Him and thanksgiving!’ They, my beloved visitors, responded, ‘Amen’. I kept them till the evening, filled their bags and said goodbye.”

Such was the previous Christmas of Joanna. Grant O God that this year it will be even more joyful. You also pray, daughter, that the heavenly Father will manifest Himself to you in some way – and God’s ways are many – so that you may experience a miracle. Do not prepare for sadness on this big day, but prepare for joy. And He Who is All-seeing and All-merciful, will make you joyful.’
Source: From Missionary Letters of Saint Nikolai Velimirovich; Orthodox Christianity Then and Now; By John Sanidopoulos

DUSK IN THE QUEEN OF CITIES

The sun is racing to hide behind the aged Theodosian walls and reign in full purple over the vast Thracian plain. The guided tour program has ended and pilgrims have scattered in groups at the market for shopping and dinner.

Our company – seven souls – is walking through old Constantinople, searching for some relics of the Byzantine Queen of Cities in the modern city of 15 millions. Tonight, the last night of the pilgrimage, we would try to discover some Byzantine churches, more than a thousand years old, that still stand forgotten by Time, but unfortunately, also by Greek visitors to the City.

We cross a main street and turn left onto a smaller one. In front of us stands a large mosque, which externally bears the characteristics of a monastery chapel except for the Cross, which has been absent from its dome for some centuries.

We proceed and ask the hodja for permission to enter. Eager and friendly, he welcomes us and allows us entry. At the same time, he explains to us that this is where the famous monastery of Akataliptos (1) was located in Byzantine times. However, the time of prayer is approaching for the faithful Muslims; the hodja leaves us and, dressed in his official uniform, enters the interior and begins namaz (2). About a dozen men gather around him, repeating some prayers and kneeling when he gives the order.

Barefoot and silent, we explore the interior of the mosque, persistently searching its walls and arches for some fragments of frescoes or mosaics. However, we cannot see anything, since the plaster has been scraped off along with the iconographies that were depicted on it (aniconic Islam strictly forbids the depiction of the physical form of God and His prophets). Only in the arch of the central entrance from the apse to the main temple do we see traces of fresco. The figures are unrecognisable.

We leave the mosque, without having satisfied our desire to discover something unique from the years of Byzantine glory. As we stand in the courtyard of the mosque, we observe symmetrically towards the central building, constructions that could be the chapels of the catholicon (3).

As it has already become dark for good, we move to the left and enter a garden with trees, where there are many ruins haphazardly thrown away, who knows since when. Carved marbles, capitals, broken columns, stones and a wall on the north side of the garden, elsewhere collapsed, elsewhere standing still. It was as if we had entered another era. A few steps behind us was the City of the 21st century, and yet in that space we felt that time had stopped counting.

With considerable hesitation and some fear lest someone might stop us, we enter the ruins and proceed to the depths where an iron door is visible. Could it be a chapel? After crossing the garden of ruins, we reach the locked door. Its window has no glass and in the dim light we can make out the interior. It does indeed appear to be one of the chapels of the catholicon. However, there are no murals or mosaics in it, as we had imagined, but only cleaning supplies, trash cans, brooms, dust pans, street cleaners’ uniforms…

We return somewhat disappointed, but something does not let us abandon that place yet. We search through the ruins. We stop at a large marble slab, leaning against a terrace. Is it perhaps the breastplate of the old iconostasis? Does it have relief crosses and other Christian symbols somewhere? In a little while we will grasp that this marble is a Holy Altar. The casket of the inauguration is clearly visible, from which the cap and of course its contents are missing. There we bow as we feel that we are in front of a plundered holy Altar, one of the many that were desecrated and destroyed after the Fall. In shock, we embrace its edge.

We leave the garden and return to the mosque. We want to beg the kind-hearted hodja to open the right chapel for us, the entrance to which we have already located among the grass and the bushes on the other side of the mosque. He takes the keys and we follow him with awe and hope. We cross another garden with fewer ruins and reach the iron door. At this point, the light of a spotlight falls on the outside, but the interior of the chapel remains dark. It has many small spaces, niches, arches; an ideal place for a vigil!

The guide shows us a tomb, but his limited English does not allow him to explain more to us. However, he allows us to take photographs, as he draws our attention to the places where there are fragments of a mural-fresco, as he calls it. In the flash of the camera we can indeed see a few icons preserved in much better condition than those of the Catholicon. In a niche is the representation of the Theotokos – in the type of Platytera, (ie. More Spacious than the Heavens) – and on either side of it is the inscription Panagia the Kyriotissa (4).

We worship the mural of the Theotokos, humming Axion estí (ie. It is Meet and Right). In a moment we leave the solemn chapel and the priest locks the rusty lock again. He tells us that tomorrow all of us pilgrims could come to see this monument. We thank him and leave but we still do not feel like returning to the hotel. Today is our last night in the City and we would like to experience more of its secrets.

We now head north, continuing our journey through the old neighbourhoods. Somewhere we pass under an arch from the Byzantine period, a ruin that still stands. Next to it is a huge plane tree. Now the lights are fading and the area looks like a remote neighbourhood. In an opening in the semi-darkness, some children are playing ball. At the end of the small road that we cross, we turn into an alley and find ourselves in front of a small but beautiful and perfectly preserved, at least externally, Byzantine church. An elegant work of art with its central dome, three smaller domes in the narthex and two chapels integrated into the entire building. However, inside this little church is a Muslim mosque.To our surprise, we see Christian symbols welcoming us, carved into the marble slabs on either side of the central entrance.

The hour is past and the door is closed. However, someone seems to be inside and we gather the courage and knock to let us in. It is the hodja of the mosque, not as cheerful as the previous one, and he hurries to show us the fresco in the right dome of the narthex. In the dim light we see Christ Pantocrator at the centre of the dome and around Him a choir of Saints. The middle dome and the left are plastered on the inside. In the main church there is nothing to remind of the Byzantine past of this building, except for a few Corinthian capitals. The chapel on the right serves as a storeroom; it is closed. On the left, the other chapel is open and illuminated. It has been converted into… a restroom, three toilets in a row, in the space that once was the Sanctuary… Somewhere there is a small door, and a narrow, almost hidden staircase, leading up to a small room.

“The priest used to live there”, the hodja explains to us and adds in his broken English: “Byzantine holy water”, showing us a stone jar in the narthex filled with water. What could this be? A bottle of holy water from the Byzantine years, which has changed its use and is now used for washing Allah’s faithful before their prayer?

We thank the hodja, apologise for the evening disturbance and make our way to leave. At the exit of the mosque, a basket has been placed and we are asked to put whatever tip we want into the basket…We leave and take the road back. It is already late but we are in no hurry to return. In our inner world, emotions are mixed, especially of those who were coming to old Constantinople for the first time. Everyone reflects on what they saw tonight…

More than five hundred years have passed since the Queen of Cities fell, but some thousand-year-and more-old buildings remain standing, provoking with their presence Time, the Catalyst. They remain standing and wait. What are they waiting for? Are they waiting for sensitive international organisations to protect them and stop the work of desecration? Are they waiting for tourists to photograph them? Are they waiting for the Greek visitors, who have completely forgotten about them? Are they waiting for incense to be fragrant, for candles and multi-branched chandeliers to light their kube5 (Turk. ie dome)? Are they waiting for the sound of ‘Christ is Risen’ to be heard under their thousand-year-old arches?

And yet, they are waiting…

Hieromonk Synesios, Monastery of St.A, V, Ch.

Notes

  1. The Monastery of Christ Akataleptos (the Incomprehensible Christ) is first mentioned in a document from the year 1094 and existed until the end of the Byzantine empire. For a long time, it was believed that the Kalenderhane mosque was the church of this monastery. However, this church is now securely identified as that of the monastery of the Mother of God Kyriotissa. The former Byzantine church known as Eski Imaret Camii, which was usually taken for that of Christ Pantepoptes (the All-Overlooking Christ), has only recently been identified with the church of the monastery of Christ Akataleptos. Cf. https://www.byzantium1200.com/akataleptos.html
  2. Namaz: Turkish word for prayer with genuflection.
  3. Catholicon: In the Orthodox Church, a catholicon is the main church of a monastery, often located at the center of a monastic complex and serves as the primary location for main liturgical services.
  4. The Church of Theotokos Kyriotissa (probably now Kalenderhane Mosque) is located near the east end of the Aqueduct of Valens in Constantinople. While it is a large Middle Byzantine church with a cross-in-square plan covered by a dome, it has a complex structural history, with several stages of building on the site, including a bath complex. Cf.https://www.thebyzantinelegacy.com/kyriotissa

Born for Eternity

+ Father Gregorios, 19 November, 2019 — 6th year Memorial service

Memory Eternal, dearest Father!

“Love in Christ is a sacrificial Love, a self-sacrificing, self-denying Love, Agape. You sacrifice everything for the person you love, “your neighbour”. By “our neighbour”, we mean every person as God’s Image, even our enemy. By “love” we do not mean that we should do whatever the other person wants us to do, but to love him with Christ’s burning and flaming Heart, for his salvation” (+ Elder Gregorios Papasotiriou)

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This is how we have always felt his love! For years, Gerondas Gregorios of blessed memory offered his prayers with tears and his never-to-be-forgotten spiritual guidance. My rebirth in Christ ((John 3:4), my new life literally started with his guidance about 40 years ago. I feel so unworthy of such a blessing!

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“Father Gregorios, born Dimitrios Papasotiriou, was born on February 16, 1940 in Paleokomi, Serres, to pious parents, Alexios and Efthymia.

From his childhood, he was characterized by an inclination for life in Christ and very early he felt the divine call for the priesthood and complete dedication to the Lord through the monastic calling. Thus, after completing his studies at the Theological School of Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, he came to the Holy Metropolis of Kassandria, where he was ordained a deacon and priest by the blessed Metropolitan Synesios Visvinis. During his stay in Polygyros, the Elder, together with other fathers under the guidance of Fr. Spyridon Trantelis (later Metropolitan of Lagadas), formed a group that served the people of God, as well as the children of the Polygyros boarding school for boys, with much love and self-sacrifice.

From his student years, the Elder particularly loved Mount Athos. He visited it very often and was particularly associated with the Holy Monastery of Saint Dionysios and the blessed Hegumen Fr. Gabriel, who became his spiritual father for a number of years. However, the main turning point in the Elder’s spiritual journey was his acquaintance with Saint Paisios the Athonite. He became connected to him with an unbreakable spiritual bond, becoming his disciple and striving throughout his life to imitate his holy life. In fact, Saint Paisios also became his godfather during the monastic tonsure of Elder Gregory in the cell of the Holy Cross in the year 1977.

In the year 1970, the flame of hesychia led Father Gregory to the then dilapidated Metochion of the Holy Monastery of Saint Dionysios in Metamorphosis, Chalkidiki, where, with the blessing of the local Bishop, he settled in a monastic cell-barn next to the Church of the Holy Forerunner.

This place from then on became the arena of his great ascetic struggles and the base for his priestly-pastoral ministry here in Chalkidiki. Only God knows his ascetic labors and efforts in order to serve the people of God with the pilgrimages, the preaching, the confession, the holy services, the vigils, the divine Liturgies. Saint Porphyrios, who attended a divine Liturgy in 1974, commented: “When Father Gregory serves the Holy Liturgy, all of God is within him and all of Father Gregory is within God.”

With the encouragement or rather the command of Saint Paisios, the life of the Monastery begins in 1975. The Holy Monastery of Dionysios grants the necessary area for the construction of the Holy Hesychasterion. The blessed Abbots Fr. Gabriel and Fr. Charalambos supported Elder Gregory with great love, foreseeing that the now deserted place of the old Metochion would be transformed into a spiritual oasis. Then the first group of spiritual children of the Elder was established, which formed the nucleus of the later sisterhood. The first Abbess was Eleni Paschaloglou from Rodolivos, Serres – herself a spiritual child of Elder Gregory -, later Elder Ephemia, who passed away to the Lord almost five months after the Elder’s “fallen asleep” after 45 years of sacrificial ministry in the Monastery.

The life of Father Gregory is henceforth spent in material and spiritual labours for the construction of the Hesychastirion, for the guidance of the Monastics, but also in his great offering as a priest, preacher and above all a spiritual father to the people of God. The Elder who abhorred worldly prominence and loved humility and obscurity, is now becoming well known as Father Gregory the Spiritual Father. Hundreds of souls found the path to salvation with him, thousands rested under his rock, countless were helped by his spiritual guidance.

The blessed Elder suffered from many illnesses throughout his life, which he bore with great patience and a doxological disposition as if someone else were suffering. Especially the last few years were a cross of painful trials and a life of patience, because the pain and illnesses reached their peak.

The good God, wanting to rest the good shepherd and His faithful steward, called him to Himself after a sudden stroke on November 19, 2019. The funeral service and burial were held on November 21, the day of the Feast of the Entrance into the Temple of Our Most Holy Lady the Theotokos and Ever-Virgin Mary, the birthday of the Monastery, when 45 years ago Saint Paisios gave the blessing and the command to Father Gregory to begin the great work for which he sacrificed his life.” (Ραδιοχρηστότητα, by his spiritual son and priest Father Nikolaos at St. Palnteleimon, Mesimeri )

May we have his prayers! “Kai sta dika mas.” “And to our own!”  May we be reunited with you dearest Father in Heaven in God’s Kairos!

Should I Confess the same sin again?

This profoundly moving and thought provoking homily is by Father Anastasios, the spiritual father of dear friends, a Father who is hearing Confessions all the time, from morning to night, and from night to morning. Indeed, our thoughts, the logismoi that surround us, especially concerning certain acts, even after they have been forgiven, are  symptoms of our fallen  state and marred image. Indeed we should, as we say  in the liturgy,” live out our life in peace and repentance.” I wish you all a blessed Christmas Lent!

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“It is a topic that is discussed a lot.

Since you have confessed this sin, why do you have to confess it again? You have said these things!!!

Is this opinion correct?

It is, if Spiritual Life is not a continuous path from Darkness to Light.

It is correct, if Spiritual Life is not a continuous Purification, Illumination and Theosis process!

However, since Christ, the Theotokos, the Holy Apostles and our Saints prove to us with their Life and teaching that the Spiritual Life is a path of Repentance, Forgiveness of Sins and Eternal Life, then our Sin is also constantly revealed!

A path of continuous Illumination, which reveals our Sin to us first as an ACT. We confess it.

With Confession we receive Absolution of Sin, as an act, and we have peace.

However, the Light of the Holy Spirit, which entered inside us with the Absolution of Sin, reveals to us, as we continue in Kairos our Repentance, that before the act, we entertained many sinful Thoughts (ie. Logismoi) .

The same Sin is revealed to us, not only as an Act, but also as a Logismos.

Next to it, we begin to see other acts, which preceded and followed the Sin that we confessed.

We go to the Confessor and reveal the new revelations of our Sin, but also the new Sins, which we saw in the prayer for our Sin.

We receive more Light from the new Confession and with our continuous Repentance, Christ reveals to us the same Sin as our heart’s desire, connected to many other heart desires.

The Light of the Mysteries of Repentance, Confession and Holy Communion constantly reveals to us new facts that surround the Sin that we first confessed; they reveal to us other Sins, but also Sin itself more deeply, things that we did not see before.

The Light of the Mysteries, with Careful Repentance as the protagonist, constantly reveals to us deeper and deeper the same Sin, from action, to thought that preceded and desire from which the Sin began.

It constantly and daily reveals to us, along with Sin, our Mind and how it functions, our Heart and how it functions.

It reveals to us, constantly and daily, that WE HAVE NOT ONLY HARMED OURSELVES, BUT ALSO THOSE AROUND US, OUR SPIRITUAL FATHER, OUR BRETHREN, OUR WIFE, OUR HUSBAND, OUR CHILDREN, THE ENVIRONMENT, OUR NATURE AND NATURE.

It reveals to us that the one SIN THAT WE HAVE CONFESSED IS A LIFE IMPRINT;  IT IS NOT AN ISOLATED ATTITUDE OF LIFE, BUT OUR WHOLE LIFE!

There are two Commandments, Love for God with all your soul, which cleanses, purifies love for ourselves as the Image of God and for our neighbour!

Of all our Sins, one is the WORST, ONE IS OUR WORST PASSION, to which we must direct all our Vigilance and prayer.

It is OUR SELF-LOVE with all its CHILDREN, first, and OUR CARNALITY, SENSUALITY with all its children.

Didn’t David see these things and say “MY SIN IS FOREVER BEFORE ME”?

Didn’t Fr. Anatoly, in the Russian film “THE ISLAND”, see this?

Isn’t this the Vision of the Hesychasts, either in the Desert of Nature, or in the Desert of Big Cities?

Our spiritual awakening, the Revelation of one passion, reveals ever-increasingly all our hidden passions, like the laboratory tests of a Cancer Patient, which bring to light new data, so that the proper pharmaceutical treatment can be carried out.

THE LIGHT OF THE HOLY SPIRIT OF THE MYSTERIES OF THE CHURCH GRADUALLY LEADS US TO PURIFICATION, ILLUMINATION AND THEOSIS.

Just as the Archaeological excavations slowly, with daily labour, uncover the findings of ancient civilizations, so the Divine Light progressively reveals to the person who is Penitent until Death, the hidden Sinful Life.

Repentance, Confession and Holy Communion, with the cooperation of the Penitent with the Holy Spirit, constantly reveal our Sin, our sinful Life.

It is like the investigation of a crime, where the more the authorities search for it, the more the causes, the culprits, their intentions, their participation in the criminal action are revealed.

This work, while it begins with pain, because we identify the damage we have caused with our sin, always ends with Heavenly Joy, ripens within us the Fruits of the Holy Spirit: Love, Peace, Joy!

As we progress unto Purification from the vision of our Sinful Life, which we see constantly coming out of our Heart, as Christ tells us, we begin to see our Nature, our heredity and ourselves as a Member of the Body of Christ and the Church!

This is the Hesychastic Life of the Orthodox Church, where constant Repentance brings the Holy Spirit, who is the Protagonist of our Life, as Christ said to the Samaritan woman:

“God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth.” (John 4,24).

To  those who see sin as an act, a thought or a desire, they think that a confession is enough to be forgiven. This opinion is natural, if this is knowledge.

However, to those who see Sin as a symptom and imprint of a constantly revealed SINFUL LIFE, a whole Life is not enough for them to confess and cleanse themselves.

This is how our Saints lived, with the culmination of Abba Sisois, who pleaded to Christ, when He came to take his soul :

– WILL YOU NOT ALLOW ME, LORD, JUST A LITTLE MORE TO LIVE, SO THAT I CAN REPENT?

Hearing this, his Disciples said, “Elder, you HAVE BEEN REPENTING YOUR WHOLE  LIFE!”

And the Great Sisois said:

–  BELIEVE ME, BROTHERS, I DO NOT THINK I HAVE EVEN MADE A BEGINNING YET. 

Those who see, know that the vision of running water, while it appears to be the same, is not the same.

Those who see, in the Holy Spirit, constantly know their Sin, that it is not itself, that is why they cry out with a sigh, “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me!”

And the Forgiveness of Sins comes and pain becomes Joy, slavery becomes Freedom and darkness, Eternal Light!

Spiritual Life is not only an interrogation and attribution of responsibilities; it is mainly a lifelong treatment, which is done with great care and diligence, daily and constantly until death.”

Father Anastasios, Confession

SLICES OF WARM BREAD 

A spiritual Father’s diary

“Someone recently described Thessaloniki as like a dry cake. I’m not sure about this simile. I would prefer to describe it in terms of warm slices of bread. Exchanging a cold, windy, wet Manchester of 13C for a calm, warm late evening 25C, Thessaloniki was indeed a taster of what was to come. Having navigated the vicissitudes of the roaming signal with a friendly local, a familiar “taxi” driver arrived to pick me up from the terminal. 

I have often thought that the word terminal speaks of rather sad endings rather than the springboard and opening to new adventures. 

Having been delivered to my assigned apartment I enjoyed the sleep of the just traveller. 

The five days in Thessaloniki spent with my spiritual children had both an eternal and a brief dimension. Time expands and contracts according to God’s ordinance. 

House blessings, Confessions, Social Gatherings, Prayers, Church and Monastery Visits and the not so mundane coffee stops roll into a well risen loaf with the yeast of kindness and the warmth of hospitality. 

In just one day we visited: 

  1. The Holy Church of St Nicholas Orphanos 
  2. The Church of Pammegistoi Taxiarches where there was a Byzantine Crypt and huge Basil bushes outside. 
  3. Vlatadon Monastery. 
  4. Latomos Monastery and later the cave Church of St David the Dendrite. 
  5. St Demetrios Church. 
  6. St Theodora Monastery and Church where we venerated the holy relics of St Theodora and St David. 
Church of St Theodora

Stopping for late lunch the first thing to arrive on our table was warm sliced bread — a gift and a symbol of the spiritual slices of holiness we had tasted earlier. 

St Demetrios church St Anysia relics
Church of Pammegistoi Taxiarches with byzantine crypt
St Nicholas Orphanos
Basil bush
Osios David the Dendrite Latomos monastery
View from Vlatadon Monastery

We took the bread, blessed it, gave thanks, broke it and shared the humble gift with the meal — a eucharistic pattern that is woven into every fabric of the Christian Life. 

So many precious memories in a short space of time — but God’s time (kairos not chronos). For these treasured moments I give thanks to God”.

⚔️ The Line of the Sword of Archangel Michael and Autumnal Equinox⚔️

Last week, Archangel Michael, became central in my life. First, my spiritual father arrived and rescued me after a summer of fires, all kinds of fires, and carried me in his arms like the Good Shepherd. He also brought me this icon of the Archangel Michael to protect me from the attacks of the evil one “through the valley of the shadow of death.

Then, a dear spiritual sister of mine is leaving tomorrow on a pilgrimage to Archangel Michael of Panormitis (Gr. O Πανορμίτης) on the island of Symi, and promised to give our names for commemoration and bring a copy of that miraculous icon of the Archangel Michael, one of the most famous miraculous icons of the Archangel in Greece.

Archangel Michael of Panormitis, Taxiarches monastery,  Symi island

The other famous and truly fierce, if I may use such an expression for an icon, is the miraculous icon of Archangel Michael is that of Mantamados on the island of Lesvos, where a dear spiritual brother lives and prays for all mankind. This is an icon that once you encounter and venerate, you never forget all your life. I had this blessing a few years ago.

Archangel Michael of Mantamados, Lesvos

Last but not least, today, Monday 22 September, is the day of of the autumnal equinox, September 22, which is closely related to Archangel Michael in a way that may surprise you.

Forgive my long parenthesis. Now to the autumnal equinox and Archangel Michael. There is an ancient legend: when Archangel Michael defeated the devil, his sword carved a fiery line on the ground. And the amazing thing is this: on the map of Europe and the East, seven holy shrines dedicated to the Archangel are aligned – all on the same line!

📍 1. Skellig Michael (Ireland) – a rocky island in the ocean, where ascetics lived in strict conditions, believing in the protection of the Archangel.
📍 2. St. Michael’s Mount (England) – a place where the Archangel appeared to fishermen in the 5th century.
📍 3. Mont-Saint-Michel (France) – a famous monastery on an island, which seems to be floating above the sea.
📍 4. Sacra di San Michele (Italy, Piedmont) – a monastery on a mountaintop, with a view that touches eternity.
📍 5. Monte Sant’Angelo (Italy, Gargano) – a cave, into which, according to tradition, Michael descended and consecrated it.
📍 6. Monastery of St. Michael (Symei Island, Greece) – an ancient pilgrimage site in the Aegean Sea, where believers flock for healing.
📍 7. Monastery of St. Michael on Mount Carmel (Israel) – the last point of the line, a symbol of union with Heaven.

✨ All seven of these sanctuaries are located on a straight line. And if we pay attention – this straight line coincides with the sunset on the day of of the autumnal equinox, September 22.

Archangel Michael stands guard.

+ Memory Eternal — Mother Akylina

Day 8-Part B: The Lamp of the Perfect

+ 9 September


“I remember dear little Mother Akylina . Her bent figure eagerly recommending books in the bookstore, hardly seeing her over the counter but an eagerness to impart a clear voiced wisdom learned from ascetic struggle. May her memory be eternal and may she pray for us in the nearer presence of Christ” (Little Abouna)

From Singer to Monk, From Cancer to His Kingdom

“We pray again for the repose of the soul of your servant Dionysios the Monk… † October 19, 1993

The famous and great singer Dionysios Theodosis who became a monk at Mikra Agia Anna on Mount Athos, shortly before cancer led him to Christ at the age of 35…

No one knew his secret throughout his battle with the incurable disease, until at his funeral procession at the Church of St Thomas the Apostle in Goudi, his spiritual director, Fr. Spyridon Mikragiannanitis, mentioned:
“We pray again for the repose of the soul of your servant Dionysios the Monk!”
Everyone was speechless.

Dionysios Theodosis (June 16, 1958 – October 19, 1993) was a Greek singer.
During his career, he collaborated with well-known Greek composers including Yiannis Spanos, Giorgos Hatzinasios and Marios Tokas and with singers such as Giorgos Dalaras, Dimitra Galani and Haris Alexiou.

He was experiencing great existential impasses, until he met Saint Paisios, who discerned his pain and said:
“You, my child, are bringing me a lot of pain, you need to confess, and to a good spiritual father.
Go to the Mikra Agia Anna and talk to Father Dionysios, he is good and will help you”.

Dionysis followed the advice and set off by boat for Mikra Agia Anna.
A monk next to him struck up a conversation and introduced himself: “Father Dionysios Mikragiannanitis”.
After the initial surprise, they struck up a conversation for a while, but Dionysis thought he was a “jester” since this was not the image he had had until then of a spiritual person:
that is, a serious, perhaps even grim old man.
His illness, however, came to radically change the landscape.
He began chemotherapy in London.
His visits to Mikra Agia Anna intensified and he announced to the Fathers that he wanted to become a monk!
At least once a month when he finished at dawn his work he would take his motorcycle and travel to Mount Athos.

With his mother, also a singer, in a shop somewhere in Istanbul…

During that time, the song “As Long as a Coffee Lasts” was also written, which he performed himself and which few know that he dedicated to his Elder!

He wished to get well and dedicate his life to hesychasm.
His elder, Dionysios, before leaving for treatment abroad, shaves his head and allows him to visit the hospital in England without his cassock.

On Mount Athos, together with Elder Efraim Katounakia

No one knows his secret, not even his mother Despo, who stands by his side in his last moments and reads a book he gave her about the garden of the Virgin Mary.

She is impressed by what he tells her about Mount Athos.

She prays to God in her heart:
“May my son get well and with my blessing come to serve you.”

Dionysios says his prayers in the bed of the hospital and she does not know that those prayers are his monastic rule!
One day, the English nurse tells Dionysis’ mother in a lacklustre voice, lacking any real emotion: «he died».

The funeral took place in Greece.
Among other relatives, friends, well-known singers, actors and musicians, his elder, Dionysios, also attended.

Fr. Spyridon revealed the secret at the ceremony when he said the name of the deceased: “the servant of God, monk Dionysios”(!)
The congregation was amazed.

Immediately after the ceremony the Fathers took his body, wrapped it in a sheet and monk Dionysios was buried in Mikra Agia Anna, in the place where he wanted to become a monk.

His stepfather and godson Benjamin Koul, a person who converted to Orthodoxy by Dionysis often visited his grave, knowing the people of Mikra Agia Anna.
(Benjamin was a Turk and was baptized in Greece.
His son, Dionysis Theodosis, was his godfather in the Sacrament…)

At the baptism of his step-father and godson


His wish was to be buried next to his child when he departed this life.

His wish was fulfilled.
He fell ill a few years later and also departed this life, adding another painful loss to the lady-Despo who, when the three years of his burial had passed, took the bones and brought them to Ouranoupoli.

There the monks received them and buried them next to those of his spiritual father, godfather and child, monk Dionysis.

From the page, “Dionysis Theodosis / DionisisTheodosis” and Amfoterodexios

Please watch monk Dionysis sing the song he dedicated to his spiritual father. At first sight, it looks erotic but it is about Agape!

As long as a coffee lasts

Dedicated to his spiritual father

Don’t leave me alone this night,
I am roaming in a minefield
When I drink you up and dry up this night
Either I’ll be saved or I’ll be lost

Stay a little longer
Until I escape
And if you want, hold me
As long as a coffee lasts
Stay a little longer
Until I escape
And then say bye
And that you will come again

Don’t leave me alone this night
My mind turns to evil
Comfort my pain this night
Lead me on with your love, like a baby

Stay a little longer
Until I escape
And if you want, hold me
As long as a coffee lasts
Stay a little longer
Until I escape
And then say bye
And that you will come again (2)

Memory Eternal! Christ is Risen!

A SHORT HISTORY OF  SILENCE 

A rustling of paper 

The squeak of the chair 

The cough 

The sniff and sneeze 

The dropped pencil 

The ruler being placed on the desk 

The buzz of the electric light 

The hum of the traffic outside 

The wind and rain on the windows 

The voice saying: “Stop writing please boys”! 

On the board outside in large red letters on  the white background SILENCE — EXAMINATION IN PROGRESS. Complete silence is hardly possible. 

The history of silence, ironically it seems,  starts, as physicists say with the “big bang” — I  say ironically because there was no one there to  hear it unless you believe in God and since the big  bang may have happened in a vacuum, there was  no sound. 

Our lives more than ever are filled with sound;  it seems as though we cannot do without  distractions; from the mp3s to the music that  invades our lives. We need to have space, peace  and quiet. 

John Cage 

4′33″ (pronounced Four minutes, thirty-three  seconds or, as the composer himself referred to it, Four, thirty-three) is a three-movement  composition by American avant-garde composer  John Cage (1912–1992). It was composed in 1952  for any instrument (or combination of  instruments), and the score instructs the performer  not to play the instrument during the entire  duration of the piece throughout the three  movements (the first being thirty seconds, the  second being two minutes and twenty-three  seconds, and the third being one minute and forty  seconds). Although commonly perceived as “four  minutes thirty-three seconds of silence” — the  piece actually consists of the sounds of the  environment that the listeners hear while it is  performed. Over the years, 4′33″ became Cage’s  most famous and most controversial composition.  The writer composer is trying to show that there is  no such thing as silence — that there is a  movement and dynamic — he invites us to listen. 

Silence sometimes has a bad press in the  Bible — often when it is used, it refers to God  silencing His people to stop their mouths: 

He silences the lips of trusted advisers and  takes away the discernment of elders. (Job  12:20) 

But the king will rejoice in God; all who  swear by God’s name will praise him, while  the mouths of liars will be silenced. (Psalm  63:11) 

“Therefore, her young men will fall in the  streets; all her soldiers will be silenced in  that day,” declares the LORD. (Jeremiah  50:30) 

Hearing that Jesus had silenced the  Sadducees, the Pharisees got together….  (Matthew 22:34) 

In a positive way however, silence is the space in  which God speaks. A relationship between two  people involves dialogue — speaking and  listening. If we cannot listen we cannot have a  relationship. My silence allows others to speak  and your silence allows you to hear me. At the  very heart of God’s universe is a dialogue  between heaven and earth — from creation  onwards it has always been so. It is in fact what  happens in an iconic way with the Holy Liturgy.  When Christ came to earth there were those who  heard him and those that did not. If you want to  acquire a quality of reception on your radio, you  have to turn it on and tune in until your radio  receiver allows you to hear. Our hearts, minds and  souls are like radio receivers — if you want to  acquire a quality of prayer, you must tune your  heart towards God in a qualitative receptive  silence. 

Silence between notes makes music, silence  between words makes language — otherwise we  have cacophony and noise. Any teacher can vouch  for that truth and every pupil knows it. 

We need space and silence. When the desert  father went into the silence of the desert in the  fourth century they found the devil and  themselves before they found God. When Jesus  went into the desert he was tempted too by the  voice of the devil. St Seraphim went into the  desert of the Northern Thebaid in Russia as a  hermit but not before he had learned obedience  and humility within a community. Without  obedience to a rule one would go mad. Silence  can be torture and is a torture with white noise.  Yet in solitude we can listen to other things — the  birds of the air, the wind, the sea — we never have  complete silence for the whole of Creation is  either singing or groaning. We can be part of a  communal silence in the monastic tradition — the  silence of a community is a dynamic silence — it  is not the silence of the one — the monolith — but of corporate sharing— full and replete — like  the dynamic of the Holy Trinity. 

The definition that Metropolitan Kallistos  gives of prayer is, I think, so valuable — “I just  sit and look at God and He just sits and looks at  me.” Sometimes words are unnecessary — when  one is in love with another person words  sometimes becomes an interruption to that shared mutual appreciation. 

Prayer is a relationship with God and an  encounter with the real world not limited by time  and space — it is not two dimensional but brings  us into the very reality of our being. It brings us  into contact with those invisible dimensions  which interpenetrate our life. For life lived  without prayer, without God is only two  dimensional — it is a flat world and it is lived in  relationship only to self. But in fact Visible and  Invisible coexist as fire is present in red hot iron  as hydrogen and oxygen co-exist to bring us thirst  quenching water. They are not mutually exclusive. 

Prayer as Metropolitan Antony Bloom said in  “Courage to Pray” is an end to isolation — it is  living our life with someone. Prayer makes us  aware of God’s presence which we would not be  if we did not pray — like switching the radio on  and tuning in we have to make the effort to hear  God speaking. Indeed he who does not pray is in  isolation — the more we pray the more we realise  our need upon God — the reality of our vulnerable  state of mortality comes to the for, but at the same  time we begin to appreciate more grace and divine  support. Prayer does not change God — prayer  changes us, because it is God the Holy Spirit  praying in us. C. S. Lewis, that great friend of  Orthodoxy, expresses it like this in his poem on  Prayer: 

Master they say that when I seem 

To be in speech with you, 

Since you make no replies, it’s all a

dream – One talker aping two. 

They are half right, but not as they 

imagine; rather, I 

Seek in myself the things I meant to

say, And lo! The wells are dry. 

Then, seeing me empty, you forsake 

The listener’s role, and through 

My dead lips breathe and into utterance wake

The thoughts I never knew. 

And thus you neither need reply 

Nor can; thus while we seem 

Two talking, thou art One forever, and I

No dreamer, but thy dream. 

– C.S. Lewis 

So we need to distinguish between negative  silence, which is isolation from God, and positive quietude — calm, hesychia — which is union with  God. The experienced use of mental prayer (or  prayer of the heart), requiring solitude and quiet,  is called “Hesychasm” (from the Greek “hesychia”, meaning calm, silence), and those practicing it  were called “hesychasts.” “A sign of spiritual life  is the immersion of a person within himself and  the hidden workings within his heart.” 

“Acquire a peaceful spirit, and around you  thousands will be saved.” (St Seraphim of  Sarov.) 

In our busy life bombarded by sound — we value  things by what we do, what is achieved, the end  product, the target fulfilled, the box ticked, but  perhaps rather than the measure of doing perhaps  we need to recalibrate our lives into being — after  all we are not human doings but human beings.  We should try to set aside at least half an hour  each day for quiet reflection and application:  SILENCE — EXAMINATION IN PROGRESS – — since we shall experience it sooner or later: 

[The Seventh Seal and the Golden  Censer] When he opened the seventh seal,  there was silence in heaven for about half an  hour. (Revelation 8:1) 

Eν Χριστώ 

Fr. Jonathan 

ابونا جوناثان