What Kind of a Weird Miracle is This Supposed to Be?

That's what I asked myself when I first saw this video.  It shows the River Jordan reversing the direction of its flow when it is blessed during a Theophany service.  First you see it flowing to the left, then at the end, you see wooden crosses floating toward the right.  Apparently, this happens every year at Theophany.  Cool to look at, but so what?  One rather wishes, if there is to be a miracle, that it would have some sort of meaning, not just a strange effect.

So I decided to research it, and found out it is full of deep and multilayered meaning.  I will try to condense it into as short a space as I can.

Theophany? you ask.  Theophany?  I never heard of Theophany.  It's what you may know as Epiphany, a feast that comes directly after the Twelve Days of Christmas, which is to say, the 6th of January.  In the West, this feast is mainly about the Magi arriving to worship the infant Christ, but in Orthodox Christianity, the emphasis is upon Jesus' baptism in the River Jordan.

The Feast has two main themes.  The first is that this is the occasion when the Holy Trinity was first clearly revealed, when the Holy Spirt descended like a dove and the voice of the Father was heard saying, "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased."  The second theme is water, because we don't believe Jesus was purified but the reverse.  He sanctified the waters of the Jordan, and with them, all the waters of the world.

So on this day, we bless the waters again, in commemoration of the Baptism of Christ.  We bless the holy water that will be used all year, and we bless rivers and lakes and oceans, praying over them and throwing crosses into them, which brave boys compete to retrieve from the January water.  It is the blessing of the Jordan being shown in this video, along with the releasing of a dove.  (Actually, we do two blessings, the Little Blessing the day before Theophany, and the Great Blessing of the Waters on the day itself.  This is the day before.)

But the water flowing backwards, what's with that?

Well, it all begins with creation, but we can skip ahead to Moses, about 3500 years ago.  You probably know the story, from Exodus 14, of how Moses led the Israelite slaves out of captivity in Egypt, and how the king of Egypt pursued him with his army and his chariots.  It's an exciting story, a must-read.  Anyway, when the situation looked most dire, "Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the LORD drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided..."  The Children of Israel passed through the sea on dry land, the water forming walls on either side of them.  Those walls, of course, collapsed when the Egyptian army came in pursuit, drowning them all.  But the point here is, the waters were driven back.

St, Paul teaches an added meaning to this story.  He says it foreshadowed Holy Baptism (and that later bits of the story foreshadow Holy Communion).  From I Corinthians 10:

1 Moreover, brethren, I do not want you to be unaware that all our fathers were under the cloud, all passed through the sea, 2 all were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea, 3 all ate the same spiritual food, 4 and all drank the same spiritual drink. For they drank of that spiritual Rock that followed them, and that Rock was Christ. 

Rock, what Rock?  The Apostle is referring to another Moses story.  The children of Israel are now wandering around in the desert and they have no water. They turn against Moses with their usual complaints.  Were there not enough graves in Egypt that you brought us here? and, It would have been better to remain slaves in Egypt than to die out here of thirst, and so on.  "Then Moses lifted his hand and struck the rock twice with his rod; and water came out abundantly, and the congregation and their animals drank."  Num 20:11

But the Exodus story is not the only instance of waters being driven back.  Something very like it happens again for Joshua, when he leads Israel across the Jordan, preceded by the Ark of the Covenant,  From Joshua 3:

14 So it was, when the people set out from their camp to cross over the Jordan, with the priests bearing the ark of the covenant before the people, 15 and as those who bore the ark came to the Jordan, and the feet of the priests who bore the ark dipped in the edge of the water (for the Jordan overflows all its banks during the whole time of harvest), 16 that the waters which came down from upstream stood still, and rose in a heap very far away at Adam, the city that is beside Zaretan. So the waters that went down into the Sea of the Arabah, the Salt Sea, failed, and were cut off; and the people crossed over opposite Jericho. 17 Then the priests who bore the ark of the covenant of the LORD stood firm on dry ground in the midst of the Jordan; and all Israel crossed over on dry ground, until all the people had crossed completely over the Jordan.

And it happens again for the Prophet Elisha just after Prophet Elijah, his mentor, has died.  Here is a doubly interesting tale from 2 Kings 2:

11 Then it happened, as they continued on and talked, that suddenly a chariot of fire appeared with horses of fire, and separated the two of them; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven.

12 And Elisha saw it, and he cried out, “My father, my father, the chariot of Israel and its horsemen!” So he saw him no more. And he took hold of his own clothes and tore them into two pieces. 13 He also took up the mantle of Elijah that had fallen from him, and went back and stood by the bank of the Jordan. 14 Then he took the mantle of Elijah that had fallen from him, and struck the water, and said, “Where is the LORD God of Elijah?” And when he also had struck the water, it was divided this way and that; and Elisha crossed over.

15 Now when the sons of the prophets who were from Jericho saw him, they said, “The spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha.” And they came to meet him, and bowed to the ground before him.

. . .

19 Then the men of the city said to Elisha, “Please notice, the situation of this city is pleasant, as my lord sees; but the water is bad, and the ground barren.”

20 And he said, “Bring me a new bowl, and put salt in it.” So they brought it to him. 21 Then he went out to the source of the water, and cast in the salt there, and said, “Thus says the LORD: ‘I have healed this water; from it there shall be no more death or barrenness.’ ” 22 So the water remains healed to this day, according to the word of Elisha which he spoke.

All of these stories the Church takes as types of Christ, as foreshadowings.  Jesus is the ultimate meaning of the Law (Moses) and the Prophets (Elisha).  We especially take Psalm 114 as a Messianic  prophecy:

1 When Israel went out of Egypt,

​​The house of Jacob from a people of strange language,

2 ​​Judah became His sanctuary,

​​And Israel His dominion.

​3 ​​The sea saw it and fled;

​​Jordan turned back.

4 ​​The mountains skipped like rams,

​​The little hills like lambs.

5 ​​What ails you, O sea, that you fled?

​​O Jordan, that you turned back?

6 ​​O mountains, that you skipped like rams?

​​O little hills, like lambs?

​7 ​​Tremble, O earth, at the presence of the Lord,

​​At the presence of the God of Jacob,

8 ​​Who turned the rock into a pool of water,

​​The flint into a fountain of waters.

Elisha purified the water, Jesus sanctified it.  As the waters parted or were driven backward by Moses, Joshua, and Elisha, so we believe they were at the baptism of Christ, in fulfillment of the Psalm, and of the other events as well.  In New Testament usage, to "fulfill" means to give something its full or ultimate meaning.  So the backward flowing of the Jordan since Christ not only hearkens back to the Old Testament events, but points us forward as well, as explained in this article by Tenny Thomas in the Indian Orthodox Herald:  

On this day the River Jordan changes its course, and starts flowing backwards, underlying exactly this concept. The river Jordan, with its two traditional streams Jor and Dan represents also our lives, lives that flow from the first parents, Adam and Eve. From them the life of mankind started flowing toward the Dead Sea of sin and perdition, as Jordan River does. But when the Master entered the river, the Jordan started flowing backwards, in the same way as our lives turn toward our true godly origins when Christ enters into our lives.

The events on the banks of Jordan uncovers the deep meanings of the Sacrament of Baptism in Christian practice. The mystical presence of Christ is present at our baptism. When we enter into the baptismal font Christ is also there with us turning around the course of our lives from a life spent in sin and worldly things into a life in virtue, and heavenly glory.

As Gregory of Nazianzen says, “Christ is illumined, let us shine forth with Him. Christ is baptized, let us descend with Him that we may also ascend with Him.” God reveals His Son in the silence of our soul. Communion with God requires our active participation. Our will must be conformed to God’s will.

May we experience Theophany within ourselves, and see the Lord all around us. May our lives be freed from the cares of this world that the Lord might reveal Himself to us more and more.

To God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is due all glory, honor, and worship now and always, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Icon of the Baptism of Christ.  Here we see four fishes at Jesus' feet.  Two are swimming one way and two, the other way.  The other creatures represent the Jordan (left) and the sea (right).  Pretty cool to think this reversal of the Jordan's flow still happens every year.

Becky's Miracle

When you first see Becky, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt in church with hiking shoes, and sporting a butch haircut, your first reaction is bound to be, "Lesbian."  Either that or she lost all her hair from chemotherapy and is just now growing it back.

In fact, she's a faithful Orthodox Christian, and whether she is battling the other I don't really know.  What I do know is, she's a walking, living miracle.    At the coffee hour, she was saying something about how wonderful it was to be walking perfectly well, without even a cane, after so many years in a wheelchair.  "Was it cancer?" I asked.

"No, it was PLS," she said, "primary lateral sclerosis."

"Never heard of it."

"It's much like ALS," she said, "Lou Gehrig's disease."

"A progressive disease, I think," I said.

She nodded.

I was confused.  "But - but there isn't any cure for it, is there?"

She shrugged, grinning broadly.  "Supposedly.  But here I am!"

We didn't have enough time to talk, but in broad outline, she came down with the disease when she was in middle school, and she looks to be a  thirty-something now.  She spent many years in a  wheelchair and then one day, she felt herself so  much better than in  the course of "about three  minutes",  she found she could walk.  "And I wasn't Orthodox then,  either," she said, adding that this was what had brought  her to the Church.

When  I met her, a year ago, she was hobbling about  on crutches,  but now she walks better than I do.  And she stands through the whole service, a fitting tribute to Him Who made her able to stand.

There is no sign in her body, she says, of the PLS.  It's just gone.

All this she related to me in the presence of Amanda, who can only walk a few steps at a time, with a crutch.  If that doesn't beg the question, I din't know what does:  why some and not others?  The answer, well, we don't really know, but we do know God gives to each of us what will best help us spiritually.

Recently, I was talking to on old man (86) who asked me if I had ever seen a miracle, adding that he never had.  Yes, oh, yes!  Miracles abound.  Even if we, in our ingratitude, don't count each opening flower or each tiny bird, wonders are everywhere.  I think it's five people I've now met who have had miraculous cures.  (And 2 of those are not Orthodox.)

What does it mean when someone who isn't even a church-goer is given a miracle?  Of course it means God is forgiving and loving and accepting that person.  Jesus pointed out that healing and forgiveness are interchangeable:  "Which is easier to say, 'Your sins are forgiven' or 'Rise up and walk?'"  Because God wouldn't heal you if He were mad at you.

Next Sunday, I intend to ask Becky if she will let me video her telling her story for no more than five minutes.  If she says yes, I'll post the video so you can have the firsthand account.

I'll also ask her what she might do with her now wide-open future.

Some Major Differences In Catholic and Orthodox Doctrine

Last night, in our ecumenical discussion group, I once again heard a Catholic say that after all, we have no significant theological differences.  Many Catholics, if not most, seem to have been taught this.  It is false, and I thought it useful to show, very briefly, why.  So here are just a few of the major differences.

We deny the papal claim to supremacy, except in an honorary sense.  (Our patriarchs are in no sense intended to be rival popes, nor to be thought of in that way.)   You Catholics wouldn't consider that an insignificant difference, would you? 

We deny the papal claim to infallibility.  And these two denials are not mere isolated objections.  As if they were not major enough in themselves, they reflect a whole different ecclesiology (doctrine of the Church).  We differ on what the Church is and how she operates, how she is governed, and the role she plays in our lives.   Is this a small difference?

We object to the doctrine of the Filioque.  Usually this seems to people abstruse, arcane, and nit-picking, yet its consequences are concrete, profound, and far-reaching.  The Filioque is built upon a whole different triadology (doctrine of the Holy Trinity) from the Orthodox one.  This means we have two different understandings of who God is, no small matter in itself, but which in turn results in two different, in some points conflicting, kinds of devotional life.  The Filioque also has, from the Orthodox point of view, wrong ecclesiological implications.

"Palamism", to use the wildly inaccurate Catholic pejorative term, also divides us.  What St. Gregory Palamas was defending so vigorously, bottom line, was the fact that the Christian can and does have direct, personal experience of God, a point denied by scholasticism. Obviously this is not a trivial issue, but it is only one of the implications of what St. Gregory fought for.  I once made a list of reasons it was important, and as I recall, there were 13 items on it.

I hope this is enough to show you that whole systems are at variance and at stake in our Catholic-Orthodox dialogue.  But there is much, much more.  This morning I picked up the Catechism of the Catholic Church and five times opened it to a random page, and five times found there some divergence from Orthodox teaching.  The CCC is flat-out wrong when it states, "With the Orthodox Churches, this communion [with the Catholics] is so profound "that it lacks little to attain the fullness that would permit a common celebration of the Lord's Eucharist." (838)

It is far from true and what really bugs me (and other Orthodox Christians, you can be sure) is that, not lacking in sophisticated, informed, and intelligent scholars, Rome has got to know it is false.  How are we supposed to have any real dialogue in the face of that?

"Temporal" is Another Word for "Secular"

Recently, the Catholics in our dialogue group proposed to the Orthodox that we needed to unite in order the better to fight the threats of Islam and -get this - secularism.

Aside from that not being a proper basis for union, and aside from our belief that to preserve His Church is the Holy Spirit's job, well, I was dumbfounded. What can I say that won't be offensive?  Dear Catholics, can't you see the glaring contradiction here?

Now for my Violin, If you Please

Ahhhh, a six-week piece of sleuthing finished.  Fair damsel saved, albeit with a bruised heart (but that was going to happen no matter what), crook exposed, lies documented, criminal charges pending.  Victims unlikely ever to see their money again, but neither will they be losing any more.  Case over, at least as far as any involvement of mine.

Most satisfactory.

A Different Place

Walking into church Sunday, I was more than usually aware of entering a different world, or at least a different dimension.  Not that it is separate from the wider world; far from it.  It is, mystically, the very heart of it, creation's inner sanctum.  

But it's different.  Everything is different:  the architecture of an Orthodox church, the sights, the sounds, the "smells and bells".  The icons do not look like real people and aren't meant to; they are stylized.  (They attempt to depict glorified souls as well as bodies.)  The music is composed to appeal to your inner spirit, not to your ears, though if sung well, it may do that, too. The air is sweet with incense.  People are dressed modestly.  People move about reverently but freely, kissing, kissing, kissing.  They kiss each other, Bibles, icons... and it seems everybody is always bowing to everybody else.  Including the priest, who bows to the people three separate times during the service.  

In this place, values are different.  Money, fame, status, and prestige do not reign; indeed, they count for nothing.  In this place, candles, oil, water, wine, bread, all mean something different.  Everything means something different, and all is transformed.  In this place, people's beliefs are different.  They may seem to those outside the Church like elaborate fables: a God Who came among us as a true man, without compromising His divinity, Who permanently transfigured death into a new form of life.  Sunday, chills ran up and down me as I recited the Creed, those foolish-sounding, ancient words of wisdom.  In this place, both explicable and inexplicable miracles abound.  Physical and spiritual blindness, lameness, deafness are healed, with equal mystery.  In this place, the damage life has inflicted upon our emotions and intellects and character is gradually undone.  

And all this difference can be summarized in one word:  Love.  That is, unconditional, self-sacrificing love, Love that gives without asking anything in return.  It's all because we have encountered this Love in the flesh, and it has overwhelmed us, and made us long to love, and struggle to love, with that same love that has lifted us up.  And when we fail to love infinitely, perfectly, we sorrow, but to the extent we do participate in this Love, our joy know no bounds; in fact, we come to know deeply that there is no other true Joy.

And in Orthodox Christianity, every dab of paint in the icons, every note of the music, every flicker of candles, every doctrine and every gesture, is in the service of this Love:  to explicate it (insofar as that is possible), to help us grow in it, to guard the authentic experience and true understanding of it, to propagate it.  And that is what makes the church the heart of the world; it is a piece of the world as thecworld ought to be.  And that in turn makes it a little piece of heaven on earth.

Wonderful Reunion

Dinner Monday night with our beloved visitors from Russia, Father Vladimir and Ilya, his son.  Ilya is Kremlin correspondent for Bloomberg news.  Matter of fact, he once took me on a tour of the Kremlin, ah, long ago, when he was still a university student.  Now he is married and the father of two.

In case you are wondering how it is a Russian Orthodox priest has no beard, it's due to the severe injuries he once sustained in an assassination attempt.  He has no hair at all, not even eyelashes.

Fr. Vladimir is currently recovering from a RE-replacement of a hip, shattered at the same time.

     Two very dear friends, together again at last.  

So Far and So Near

Looking over my life, I clearly, tearfully perceive that no matter how far I have been from God - and that has been pretty far, most of the time, especially when I thought the opposite - there has never, ever, been a moment when He was far from me.  Whatever my soul's condition, He has always been right there, closer than my own breath, my whole life.

Back in Richmond

Traveling on different planes, different airlines, with different routes, we nevertheless both managed to make it back home, safe and sound.

Interesting things happen when you come back after an extended absence.  Especially if you have made the mistake of arriving on a week-end.  We ought to have learned that lesson from our Experience of being stranded in England, but obviously we forgot.  The reason you should never arrive on a weekend is, things like banks and the Department of Motor Vehicles are all closed.

So the first thing you want when you come home after an extended absence is food in the house, isn't it?

Well, around here, to get food, you need a car.

To drive your car (legally) you must re-activate its license tags (registration).  And, in our case, replace Demetrios' driver's license, stolen with his wallet in Athens.

To do these things you must (besides waiting until Monday), reinstate your auto insurance.

To reinstate your auto insurance, you must give the insurance company a ring.

To call up your insurance company, you must have a telephone.

To get your telephone, you must re-start your telephone, television, and Internet service.

To re-start these, you need, well, a telephone.

Forget that!  What you need is some very good neighbors, like our neighbors, Frances and Dickie!  They picked me up from the airport, took me to the grocery store, and would have lent me their phone, but Verizon miraculously followed instructions and had turned our service back on as of the day before we returned.

The next interesting thing happens if you had just re-organized the house shortly before you left.  What is this?  (Oh, yes, bought it the day before I left.)  How did this get here?  Where did that go?

A third issue we ran into was that the doors to two closets had swollen shut from humidity and had been that way for heaven only knows how long.  I couldn't get to my nightgowns, my bathrobe or slippers, to my church clothes (not that we can drive to church anyway), or any clothes appropriate to the season.  I'm wearing summer clothes.  Fortunately, it is warm today.

At long last, with Demetrios using a putty knife in the crack above the door and wielding it as if it had been a crowbar, and with me simultaneously tugging as hard as I could on the door handle, we managed to open the doors.

Almost wish we hadn't.  Not a pretty sight or smell.  Everything in that closet will have to be laundered, dry cleaned, or thrown away.  At least that solves the issue for me of the things I wasn't sure I had the heart to toss out.  I have.  And on Monday, I will go buy some laundry detergent...

It's beautiful here.  The autumn leaves, although past their peak, are still in high color and the days are warm at least during the middle of the day.

Last night, waiting for Demetrios to come home, I sat with my other neighbors on their new back-yard patio, complete with fire pit, in which they had lit a bonfire.  Then I went to Frances and Dickie again, just because I have missed them.

Monday we will go to the Department of Motor Vehicles, bank, supermarket, etc., etc., etc.

And our Russian friends are here in town and await us, which is the best thing of all.  Will write more on that later, but read their wonderful story here in the meanwhile.

Slogging Through a Wonderful St. Demetrios Day

It was a wonderful day, mind.  But it started early, ended late, and wasn't easy in between.

We got up in the deep darkness, arrived in the Church of St. Demetrios still in the deep dark (7:20).  That's the church built over the spot where the Saint was imprisoned and killed, in a Roman bath.  His relics are here.

St. Demetrios is one of several illustrious saints Thessaloniki has given the Church, but in this city, he is the favorite.  St. Gregory Palamas, another famous Thessalonian, called him the sun among the stars.  

I suppose, to explain about the Feast of Saint Demetrios, we have first to say what a saint is, in Orthodox Christianity.  "Saint" means holy person and there is a sense in which we are all made holy in Christ and the term rightly applies to all of us, but that isn't the sense under discussion here. 

Well then, a saint is not just a super-religious person who shows great devotion (Francis of Assisi) or writes beautiful religious poetry (John of the Cross) or renders great service to a religious institution (Ignatius Loyola) or has a towering personality and fabulous intellect (Bernard of Clairvaux) or does heroic deeds (Joan of Arc).  For us, Christ is the yardstick, the measure of holiness.  The criterion is, to what degree do we see Jesus Christ's own Life being lived in and through this person?  How well has he or she succeeded in becoming full of compassion, kindness, humanity, humility, self-sacrificing love?  To what degree is this person Christ-with-skin-on?

And the Orthodox believe such a person, still filled with the Holy Spirit after death, continues whatever ministry God had given him or her in this life.  Thus, the Lord's Mother is still the mother of all God's children.   And Saint Demetrios still, by his prayers, aids his city, Thessaloniki, entrusted to him by God.  To his intercessions is credited the rescue of the City from plague, from the Bulgarians, several times, I think; and it was on his feast  in 1912 Thessaloniki was liberated from the Ottoman Turks.  So his feast day is a national and especially a local holiday.  Christians here meet to praise God for this Saint, to sing songs in the saint's honor, and to commemorate his life and death. 

So by the time we got through all the police guarding every intersection near the Church, every approach  but one being closed, it was 7:20 and the downstairs was already hopelessly packed.  We headed up to the balcony, two and a half flights of steep stairs, where we found exactly two seats left, from which anything could be seen.  We wanted to be able to see the proceedings.  We had stayed strictly away from this church after our disastrous experience  there on this day in 2007,   when we became lost from each other and never did find each other again until the middle of the afternoon, at home, each meanwhile fearing the other had met with foul play.  But today, the Patriarch of Constantinople was serving the Divine Liturgy, so we came back, sticking to each other like glue.

Matins was already in progress.  At 7:40, the bells began ringing loudly, joyously, signaling the arrival of Patriarch Bartholomew.  We couldn't see him at this point, but he would have arrived in plain monk's garb, and would have been helped, at the back of the church, out of the black robe and into his flowing purple ad gold cloak, cum train.

Attended by a dozen other bishops and several priests, he led us in the Great Doxology, after some initial proceedings, and by just about 9:00, the Patriarchal Divine Liturgy began.  If I tell you that by 10:30, we had only gotten a far as the Lord's Prayer - about, what? two thirds of the way through the service? - you will understand something of what it was like.

Meanwhile, people just kept arriving.  I knew they would, but our seats, providentially, were right beside what you might loosely describe as an architectural feature (something like bleachers having been constructed in the balcony) that kept them at some small distance from us.  That, plus the fact I was able to look all the way up the aisle to the front of the church, kept my claustrophobia manageable.  (The church is at least the length of two football fields, maybe three.)  People just kept coming and coming and I grew more and more restless.  There were easily 700 of us, just on the balcony, thousands more below.  At some point, someone mercifully turned on the air conditioning and then I felt I could breathe.  The late arrivals had not even stopped when the early departures began, people going to receive communion and thence home, as there was no place for them downstairs and they weren't about to tackle those exhausting, crowded stairs a second time.  

There is exactly one stairway to and from the balcony, so it stayed busy the whole time.

At some point, late in the day, the dignitaries began putting in their appearance, filling up the center front of the church, which  had been kept clear for them.  A big chair, gilded, red velvet seat, was set in the center for the President of the Republic.  The Prime Minister, Mr. Samaras, was still in Brussels, where he belongs.  The Foreign Minister stood next to the President, and behind them, on one side, the rest of the ruling elite; on the other side, the top brass of the military.  Guards all up and down the aisle.  We had changed seats by now, finding empty ones nearer the front, so we had a good view, directly above them.

The Patriarch's sermon was wonderful!  The subject - what else? - was the Love of Christ.  Of course he alluded to the story of St. Demetrios, by whose prayers a young Christian named Nestor defeated Emperor Galerius Maximian's favorite giant gladiator, a Vandal named Lyaios.  And the Patriarch told us, Do not be afraid of the contemporary Lyaioses;  St. Demetrios is still praying for you and the same thing will happen again.  Not meaning we should do nothing!  Rather, that in our contest  with the contemporary big guys, we will win.  Of course the "contemporary Lyaioses" were standing right in front of him as he spoke!  Beautiful!   Not sure they got it, likely not.  But it took rather a lot of courage for the Patriarch to say this, the more so, given he lives among hostile Turks and depends so much upon Greece for various kinds of support.

Of course, what the Patriarch said  is exactly what the song of St. Demetrios says, too.  We sang it about five times, I think, in all.  (Instead of the one time it is always sung here.)  People sang it with great fervor and gratitude and hope.  

The world has found you to be a great defender
a champion in times of danger
and a vanquisher of heathens, you bearer of trophies.
As you bolstered the courage of Nestor,
who then humbled the arrogance of Lyaios in battle,
in like manner, holy one, great Martyr Demetrios,
intercede with Christ God for us, that He may grant us His great mercy.

At the end, our local Bishop, Anthimos, had us all sing the national anthem, a paean to Freedom.  We sang that with great enthusiasm, too: "Hail, hail, O Freedom!"

Here  are some Internet photos, mostly of the Lyaioses present, but ignore the ignorant captions.  This was a regular Patriarchal Divine Liturgy, much like the usual Liturgy, with added touches customary when a patriarch is serving it.  it was not some sort of "glorification ceremony," whatever that is thought to mean.   The 14th photo was taken from where we were.

We departed while the Patriarch was still being greeted by the big-wigs, working our way single file through a double police cordon outside and exiting the grounds through an opening that admitted just one person at a time.  It wasn't the Patriarch the were protecting; it was the contemporary Lyaioses.  

It was twelve noon.

We stopped at a little eatery where we had some breakfast pastries.  A marching band came by, playing "Macedonia", a patriotic song.  I was near tears, thinking what a proud but pathetic son;  "Macedonia the renowned, home of Great Alexander."  That's really pathetic, I said to Demetrios, for a little nothing country  to have to go back that far to find someone to be proud of.  He promptly reminded m that this was nonsense, that Greece, right up to modern times, has never lacked for heroes and martyrs, and proceeded to educate me about some of the more recent ones.

We went home and collapsed.  I couldn't tell whether my back or my feet were hurting more.

At night, we hosted eight of our friends for a St. Demetrios dinner at a taverna.  Here are some photos.  We got home at midnight.  Demetrios came home with a new shirt, tie, pullover, and book, and our friends brought a box full of chocolates just for me.  

Phideas, our nephew, Christos' son.  It's his nameday, too, as his middle name is Demetrios.

Ianna, left, and Mena

Pelagia, telling a funny story, and George

Manolis and Vasiea

George and Leonidas

Ioannis, "the Theologian"

Hamlet

 I've just re-read Hamlet.  There are 8 deaths during the play, incluing his own and the deaths of all those dearest to him (not counting the murder of Hamlet, Sr., which happens before the play begins).  Hamlet is directly responsible for at least four of these deaths, and indirectly responsible for all the rest.  

How did that happen?  How did he, literally and figuratively a prince of a man, starting out as a victim and gaining our strong sympathy from the start, end up being by far the main villain of the piece?

As I see it, his first mistake was to allow himself to be ruled by passions.  So your mother conspires to kill your father; that's strong stuff and obviously extremely hard to handle.  Within weeks, she marries the man who physically carried out the deed; that's even tougher.  But you just don't go all suicidal over it and carry on with whether to be or not to be.  To be is an unfathomably glorious gift and suffering is there to teach us wisdom, not to freak out over.

Hamlet' second mistake was to listen to his father's ghost.  That should be too obvious to need comment.  It's just superstition to suppose that until our bloody thirst for revenge is gratified, a dead person cannot rest in peace.  It's we who perhaps cannot.

Third mistake, setting himself up as judge.  The simple, sober fact is that we just do not know enough to judge anybody, even supposing we were righteous enough to do it without comdemning ourselves in and by the very process.  The first thing we do not know is anyone else's heart.  (It's hard enough to know our own.) The second thing we do not know is how much we ourselves have contributed to someone else's sin.  This is because our contribution to it is often very indirect, and also because we prefer not to see it.  But the truth is, every one of us has added his/her share to the rotten way this world is, so nobody's sin leaves my supposed innocence untouched.  The third thing we do not know is what we ourselves would do in the same situation.  We think we would NEVER do this or that; we promise ourselves we never shall, but when the challenge presents itself in real life... This is why we pray, "Lead us not into temptation," meaning do not put us to the test– because humility, which is just the correct perception of reality, compels us to admit we may flunk!

And then Hamlet's ultimate mistake was to set himself up as executioner.  Do this, thereby placing yourself completely into the hands of the devil, and he whose constant aim is to kill us all will use you to cause more horror than you could ever have imagined.  

And that, to me, is what this play is about.  

http://nfs.sparknotes.com/hamlet/

Wonderful site, presenting Shakespeare's original text side-by-side with a modern text.  

The one is sublime, the other more accessible, so we get the best of both.

Not About You ( or me)

An Orthodox worship service is not about making you feel comfortable in church.  It is not about educating you, amusing you, or entertaining you.  It is not about converting you, not about  evangelizing you; there are six other days a week for that.  It is not about using you to grow the Church.  It is not about making you feel good, giving you an emotional high so you will say you have been "fed".   It is not about inspiring you or comforting you or encouraging you.  It is not about making beliefs or practices seem more palatable to you.  It isn't about giving you pointers for a more successful life.  Although some of these things do happen in an Orthodox service, the fact is, it isn't about you at all.  

It's about God, the Holy Trinity, as revealed in Jesus Christ.  It's about God and what sort of worship best pleases HIM.  It's about remembering all His kindnesses and infinite mercies, His miracles, and all He has accomplished for our salvation.  It's about acknowledging Him, about praising and thanking and blessing and petitioning and glorifying Him.  It's about singing and praying to Him.  It's about offering ourseles, each other, our whole lives, one another, and our world back to Him.  It's about communing with Him, sharing in His mystical Body and Blood.

That's Who it is all about.

Nights Out, Part 2

Last Thursday night, we met at the house of Ioannis and Mena, and here are some pictures from there.

Ioannis, with Mena

Vasilis, Demetrios, Ioannis's wife Mena, and the other Mena, widow of Kostas

Vasilis

I only took photos of some of us; the others must await another time.  To tell you the truth, I wanted to show you the house in this case.  The only people of this (theological discussion) group I haven't shown you so far are Takis and his wife, Maria.  They usually come late.  Maria has Altzheimer's and getting her out is obviously an increasingly difficult job.

The house, or the compound, rather, is for sale.  Very nice property in the country.  Mountain views.  Spacious apartments for all of Ioannis and Mena's children.  One, however, is a nun in a nearby convent (in Souroti) and the others don't want to live out there where there are no jobs and there's nothing for young people to do.  So Ioannis and Mena are upping stakes to live in ttheir city apartment.

Nights Out

Out theological discussion group has been meeting every other Thursday as usual.  I do not find it

of particular interest, except because of being with our friends.  Here are some of us, at the home of Manolis and Vasilea.

Manolis

Mena.  Those three poles in the background are the masts of a model ship.  To the right of the chimney and behind it is a dining room, while to the left is a home office cum ship.

Mena again, and the knee of Vasilis, her son.  Grand piano gets lost in this room.

Vasilis

Vasilea

Stephanos, Manolis'es and Vasilea's son.  He is NOT mentally handicapped; he is spastic.  Cannot speak and drools continuously.  He is also the happiest human being I have ever met.

Inspiration!

This is well worth a read!!

http://frted.wordpress.com/2013/10/04/exorcism-in-the-haunt-of-demons/