New Year 2024

My spiritual father’s wish for the New Year: “Hope for the New Year is a gift from God along with faith and love. We should embrace these graces; we will be blessed as peacemakers and become wise if we love His Commandments.”

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Jan 2 +Seraphim the Wonderworker of Sarov

May the holy one pray for us. Back to home, work, hospital/ emergency rooms, crises, implosions, explosions, yet with more hope. Theophany is at the end of this long, dark tunnel. Glory to God!

“You cannot be too gentle, too kind. Shun even to appear harsh in your treatment of each other. Joy, radiant joy, streams from the face of one who gives and kindles joy in the heart of one who receives.” St Seraphim of Sarov — If only I could interact like this with some difficult family members!

*One of our friends K. who was in hospital and 3 times came near death, got back home! When his mind was in a haze in hospital, and he thought he was at work and gave orders to his employees, and he would not recognise even family members, yet when they prayed the Trisagion, he made his cross! And when one of the doctors was explaining to family members how that particular treatment brought him back to life, the unconscious K. corrected him and told him that it was not that medicine but God who had brought him back! And then, he returned to his coma!

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Jan 3 + The finding of the Holy Relics of St. Ephraim in N. Makri, Attica (1950) + Alexandros Papadiamandis Repose

Cleaning, tidying, cooking, skype prayer sessions, lots of telephone calls and Papadiamandis, the Saint of Greek literature! Papadiamandis’ desire to glorify God is shown even more in the way he ended his life and in his attitude toward death. In a prayer he offered at the end of a poem entitled, “To the Little Panagia in the Turret,” he beseeches her, “comfort me, as well, my Panagia, before / I depart and will be no more.” In a letter written by Papa-George Rigas, we learn about the last moments of Papadiamandis’s life on Earth:

His repose took place as follows: He became ill on the 29th of November 1910. On the third day of his illness, he fainted. When he revived, he asked, “What happened to me?” “It’s nothing, a small fainting spell,” his three brothers who were at his side told him. “I haven’t fainted,” Alexandros said, “in so many years; doesn’t it seem that it’s a prelude to my repose? Get the priest immediately and don’t delay.”… Soon after, having been called [by his brothers], the priest and the doctor arrived at the same time. Papadiamandis was, above all things…a pious Christian. So, as soon as he saw the doctor, he asked him, “What are you doing here?” “I came to see you,” the doctor told him. “Keep quiet,” the sick man told him. “I will first follow the ecclesiastical path [and call upon the help of God], and then you can come later.”…

He had control of his faculties until the end and wanted to write a story. Until the end, his mind was dedicated to God. On his own, a few hours before his repose, he called for the priest to come so he could partake of Holy Communion. “Perhaps later on I won’t be able to swallow!” he explained. It was the eve of his repose and, as irony would have it, it was the day they told him that he would receive the medal of the Cross of the Savior. On the eve of his repose, the second of January, he said, “Light a candle [and] bring me an [ecclesiastical] book.” The candle was lit. The book was about to be brought. However, Papadiamandis wearily said, “Don’t worry about the book; tonight I will sing whatever I remember by heart.” And he began to chant in a trembling voice, “Thy Hand Touching” [a troparion from the 9 the Hour of the eve of Theophany].

Papadiamandis sang this final hymn and, as day broke between the second and third of January of his sixtieth year, he wearily fell asleep. After passing through the furnace of pain and trials and tasting many of the bitter dregs of life while faithfully living the liturgical life of the Church, he now stretched out his strong wings to fly to the upper chapel of the angels, toward which he had oriented his whole life. It snowed on the following day and, like Uncle Yiannios in the story, “Love in the Snow,” Papadiamandis lay down his worn-out body, presenting himself, his life, and his work before the Judge, the Ancient of Days, the Thrice-Holy. This was, finally, the only judgment with which he was concerned as he passed through life. Though his life and struggle in this world have ended, his work will continue to give witness to his devotion to the liturgical tradition of the Orthodox Church for generations to come.

More about this ‘Saint’ of Greek literature in A Greek Dostoyevski

The Gleaner, A Christmas Story by Papadiamandis

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Jan 4 + Forefeast of the Theophany of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, St. Nikiforos the leper

Theophany carols to cancer hospitals, spastics society and autistic foundation centres.

Jan 5 + Eve of the Theophany of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ

Vespers Holy Liturgy in church and the visit of our new Bishop Philotheos. Such a humble and full of God’s love this Bishop he is! He discreetly emerged from the Royal Doors and joined us, chanting and blessing us- no special ceremony! Such a beautiful, brief homily and chanting! May the Lord richly bless him! We all wanted to stay all day, every day, with him!

More photos here

Jan 6 + The Theophany of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ- The Blessing of Jordan

Church service, blessing of waters at the Thessaloniki harbour, blessing of our house by the parish priest and lots of telephone calls from dear brothers and sisters, Glory to God! Turning point to this descent to Hades! Epiphany! Ascent to Heavens!

Meanwhile, somewhere in the UK …

The blessing of Jordan

The brightness of Theophany

Jan 7 — Synaxis of John the Holy Glorious Prophet, Baptist, & Forerunner, Afterfeast of the Theophany of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus

SAINT JOHN THE FORERUNNER AND BAPTIST

Thirty years of fasting and silence–

This, not even the mountain beasts can endure!

The lion alleviates his hunger with the music of roaring,

And the tree rustles when the wind approaches.

But you neither rustle, nor moan.

Neither your lament nor your song through the wilderness echoes!

Tell me, are you a man? What is your name?

Will you ever want to speak with someone?

“The voice, the voice, the voice: I am the voice–

But the Word of God, He is.

To the children of Israel I was sent to cry out:

Repent, O people; behold, He comes.

Bring forth good fruit, each according to your strength.

Behold, behold He comes–oh, wonder of wonders!

In the midst of the water, fire from heaven is concealed!

Behold, the Lamb of God, among the wolves, walks.

Wolves, your lupine temper in the water, cleanse!”

Thirty years of silence and fasting:

Of your body, what remains, save your voice?

Your withered body is but a shadow of your voice,

Which proclaims the news: Behold, God is come to us!

Your withered body was a reed, which Herod broke.

But the voice goes on and on, with no one to silence it.

Whose voice is that, at which even the centuries tremble?

A hungry lion! No, No–a man of faith.

The Prologue from Ochrid

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Και του Χρόνου!

By C.