Tag Archives: Greece

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

Saint Paisios in Sarakina

Part One:

It all started most unusual. As I was walking in the street, at about 16:00, under the sizzling sun, on my way back to St Porfyrios after an obedience , I saw an old priest, nearly 80 years old waiting, all alone, at the bus stop. I stopped to get his blessing and inquire if he needed any help because this was not the right time for anyone to be all alone in the streets, under the scorching sun, esp. if you are 80+. But this priest was not your ‘ordinary’ elderly priest!

It turned out that Father Methodios was the parish priest at Thessaloniki St Gregory Palamas cathedral, and he was very excited about something and most eager to share his news with me! His tama to St Paisios —to build him a church—would be brought to fruition in just a few days, this Saturday evening before Pentecost, near Sarakina, a small, nearby town, 45’ drive from Thessaloniki. The main church will be consecrated to St Paisios, and the two chapels to St Gregory Palamas and St Porfyrios! Further on, he explained to me how he had offered the donation of 7.5 acres and how the monastery of the Assumption in Panorama had undertaken all the work. In the end, Father Methodios invited me to the the laying of the Foundation Stone for the construction of the Holy Church of Saint Paisios, gave me his private mobile number, supplied all necessary names and references, monastery ones included, offered ample navigation guidance for the trip to the ‘unknown’ he was inviting me, and kept repeating that I should come, that St Paisios had arranged our meeting at the bus stop!

He also described to me most vividly an overnight stay by St Paisios at his house! One evening, late in the night, his doorbell rang and the priest’s sister went to open the door. She returned pale and was utterly dumbfounded! When Father Methodios asked her who was at the door, all she could whisper was “A Saint!”. So Father Methodios went to the door and to his surprise saw St Paisios! ‘Father, how come you are here?’ And St Paisios smiled and told him: ‘Haven’t we been discussing about this visit and overnight stay all this time? Well, now is the time!’ And so he spent the night at his house.

What an amazing experience, a most exciting opportunity! How can one refuse such an opportunity? To tell you the truth, I was a little concerned that I have to drive on your own in these thickets, but how could I refuse? And deep in my heart, I felt that St Paisios would be with me. —And St Porphyrios.

I felt joy even at the prospect! It was such a joy to meet such an old, blessed priest, full of joy, radiating the Holy Spirit under the heat! I felt such joy that such priests still exist 🙏 Glory to God! If only you saw his eyes! These days I had been studying in detail the making of St Porfyrios monastery in Milesi, all the Saint’s work, toil, prayers, the volunteers, all the people who helped in every possible way. And while contemplating all this, I met this priest! Amazing!

So, if St Paisios and St Porfyrios would be travelling with me then it felt safe! Anyway, out of precaution, I also started making inquiries to the Monastery about the precise location —no gps it turned out, I am afraid,only vague road signs, cranes,oh dear…— trying also to find somebody else willing to join in the escapade. It turned out that nearly everybody was planning to be away this long weekend of the Monday of the Holy Spirit (nearly national holiday). Nearly.

Eventually, the Saints and my spiritual father’s prayers have provided me a travel companion for Saturday’s holy expedition. A fellow chanter had another obedience nearby so arrangement were sorted out really fast. And another chanter too, a blessed three tied cord, God will not despise? “And if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him; and a threestrand cord is not quickly broken.” Ecclesiastes 4:12. Glory to God for all things.

Of course it was still a mystery where and what precisely this church was. But Mysteries are revealed not understood!🙂 My spiritual Father assured me that Our Lord said I am the Way the Truth and the Life. Without the way there is no going, without the truth there is no knowing, without the life there is no living. He was assured that the Way would find a way for me. He keeps encouraging me these days to be open to the Holy Spirit and be led by Him.

The ancient saints travelled many miles to many places. I wish I could do some of this traveling together with him. But maybe at hisspiritual stage, it is only conducted in Spirit? The thoughts are spiritual for a spiritual father who travels with his spiritual children, whether in this life or the next.

Part Two:

Well, it was not a wilderness we ended up, after climbing up and down Hortiatis mountain and traversing small villages. We arrived at a pretty ‘civilised’ place, a spiritual centre and a small church in a 7.5 acres land, dedicated to The Mother of God of the Life-giving Spring or Life-giving Font (Greek: Ζωοδόχος Πηγή, translit. Zōodóchos Pēgḗ, part of Father Methodios’ family inheritance. Here, Father Methodios would gather his spiritual children for years for spiritual retreats. Here, he also retreated in hesychia to pray. At its centre, this new church to St Paisios will be erected, a metochion to Panorama Monastery of the Dormition of Our Lady.

This is the original chapel of The Mother of God of the Life-giving Spring and the spiritual centre.

Father Methodios’ mother grave, behind the Theotokos chapel

Why a Cross on the Foundation stone?

“As is well known, the Passion of the Lord culminates in His Crucifixion. On the Cross, the God-man Jesus Christ, being “The King of Glory”, gave the hardest and most terrible battle in human History, defeating the Devil and Sin. With His Holy Blood that was shed on the Cross, He strengthened and secured His Church. That is why we placed the plaque with the engraved Holy Cross on the foundations of the Church, because the Cross is, first of all, the foundation of our faith. And every Orthodox church has not only in its foundations, but also internally, externally and on its roof (in the dome) the sign of the Cross to bear witness to the victory of Christ to all those who may be inside or outside the Church.

 Secondly, the Cross is the symbol of Sacrifice. Christ on His Cross gave the unique and unparalleled example of the supreme sacrifice for the human race, in order to teach us that, His earthly Church and Her members must always follow the path of sacrifice for the salvation of the world. This is the role of the Church and her children.

Thirdly, the meaning of the Cross is joy. “Behold, through the Cross joy has come to the world”, we recite every Sunday morning, but also every day for forty days after Easter. As the Apostle Paul writes, “if we die on the cross with Christ” (Gal. 2:20); if we live our personal crucifixion, daily crucifying “our sinful self with its passions and desires” (Gal. 5:24), then surely true joy will come to us, which, according to the promise of Christ, “no one will be able to take away from us.” (Jn 16:22)

Fourthly, the Cross is hope. Through the Cross, the secured and unwavering hope is born. If we rely on the Cross of Christ, we will never bend under the weight of trials and tribulations in our lives. (Source)

We arrived early and the place was rather empty, other than Father Methodios and some workers. All around us, Nature was enchanting.

Can you spot the squirrel?🐿️

Lots of water and a miracle with water when the original church of the Theotokos was founded.

Everybody is drinking from this abundant, fruit of prayer, holy water, gushing out!

“On the last and greatest day of the feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, ‘If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.’ By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive. Up to that time the Spirit had not been given, since Jesus had not yet been glorified.” (John 7:37-39)

Gradually, more people started arriving, and the place was crowded, Bishops arrived and the ceremony started.

Bishop Philotheos from Thessaloniki laid the Foundation stone, blessed us all sprinkling holy water to us and the new church’s four corners. We all chanted together the Apolytikion of St Paisios, St Gregory Palamas and St Porfyrios, the two chapels. This is the first church to be dedicated to Saint Paisios and St Porfyrios! The bishop used St Paisios’ holy cross with a piece of the True Cross of Christ, a gift to Father Methodios 52 years ago! Saint Paisios also prayed and blessed his calling to become a hieromonk. Amidst lots of chanting and prayer, Father Methodios thanked us all in tears and told us that he had been praying about this for the last 40 years of his life!

“Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace according to Thy word, for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation: which Thou hast prepared before the face of all people. A light for revelation to the Gentiles, and to be the glory of Thy people Israel (Lk 1.29–32)

Then, a traditional Greek bouffet followed, lots of brothers and sisters all over the region and Thessaloniki to greet.

Night arrived amidst joyful fellowship, we helped clean up and tidy the place, and left, full of joy, nearly midnight! What an experience! May God soon bless us to perform the Consecration of our Holy Church, so that the glorious and majestic name of God always be glorified in it.