After Epiphany — Yearning for a Retreat
Yearning for ‘Thin Places’ where Cassocks can by Hung on the Rays of the Sun
After Epiphany — Yearning for a Retreat
Yearning for ‘Thin Places’ where Cassocks can by Hung on the Rays of the Sun
You say you are Orthodox? And what did you say your baptismal name was? I am a Northern Irish convert to Orthodoxy who regularly finds himself working and going to church in places which are much closer to the traditional heartland of eastern Christianity. So I am often asked, by gingerly Greeks or sceptical Serbs, about my path to Orthodoxy and in particular my patronal saint. When I give the answer, the scepticism sometimes deepens. And so – if the conversation is worth pursuing at all – I find myself attempting to explain the Christian heritage of the place where I grew up, and my own relationship to that place. Sometimes people are interested; sometimes I can watch their eyes glaze over. But since my story is the story of many western Orthodox Christians, I shall try telling it in print.
St Columba’s Bay, Iona
When I had the joy of being received into the Orthodox Church just over seven years ago, I took the name of Columba, the saint of Ireland andenlightener of Scotland. The process whereby priest and catechumen settle on a name is always a mysterious one; but in my case the decision to accept the name and seek the protecting guidance of Columba seemed to accord well with my own cultural origins; and also with the calling I had felt, however dimly, to another Kingdom, in which all national and cultural differences are set aside. …
Columba and the other great saints of the early Christian West are part of the common heritage of the undivided Church, and so they have a well-deserved place among the treasures of Orthodoxy. But for good reason, people from the old Orthodox world are reluctant to be taught new tricks by upstart converts from strange countries; so more than once I found myself put down rather sharply. The other difficulty I encountered was with western Christians: “We know the Roman Catholics have an interest in the early Celtic Church,” they would say, “and so do the Scottish Presbyterians and the Anglicans – but what possible connection can there be between Gaelic saints like Columba and the eastern Orthodox?”
… But is Orthodoxy simply one among many competitors for a slice of the Columba heritage? Reading the ecclesiastical history of the British Isles in the 19th century, you can trace the almost comical way in which one Christian denomination after another tried to lay claim to the saintly enlightener of Scotland. Roman Catholics tried to proclaim Columba as a loyal servant of the Pope, while the non-conformists stressed the differences of practice between Rome and the early Celtic Church, making the saint into an early anti-Papist hero. In the 20th century, a charismatic Presbyterian churchman, George McLeod, founded a community on Columba’s island which modelled itself on the saint’s gritty practicality: it was supposed to combine religious practice with engagement with the problems of the world at its most sordid and grimy.
In the end, it is only the saint himself who can answer that question. …
For the whole article by Columba Bruce Clark, secretary of the Friends of Orthodoxy on Iona, and a senior journalist for The Economist, go to http://www.roadtoemmaus.net/back_issue_articles/RTE_17/Columba_Sails_East.pdf
For Celtic Orthodoxy the real ‘authority’ is Father Seraphim and his monastery blog at http://www.mullmonastery.com/page/1/?s=St+Columba Follow his struggles to found Mull Monastery, the first Orthodox monastery in the Hebrides in over a millennium.
*The temple of St. Andrew the Apostle. In the morning mist*
Away from the hustle of big cities, on the water surface of the Vuoksa, stands the temple of St. Andrew the Apostle. The temple is mentioned in Guinness Book of Records as the world’s only church built on a tiny island, the foundation of which serves the monolithic rock protruding from the water. It was built in 2000, by Andrei Rotinov, an architect (passed away by now), according to ancient canons. Nothing like this has been ever built. There is no mass pilgrimage, no pompous ceremonies (though services are held on schedule), and other things like that. This place is more for solitude with nature, to reflect on the events of your life, meditation and quiet conversation with God in a relaxed atmosphere. Around the picturesque banks of the Vuoksa, with rocks protruding from the water, and singing birds … idyll or peace.
* The church at the dawn*
An example for the architectural solution was the oldest church of the Ascension in Kolomna. While in the world, there are other “Churches on the water,” among which the church in Volgograd, Kondopoga, Church of the Assumption in Slovenia and surprisingly similar to Priozersky temple church in the town of Kalyazin on the Volga, but St. Andrew the Apostle church on the island Vuoksa surprises all.
*The lonely church against misty background*
The temple is named after one of the twelve disciples of Jesus Christ – according to church tradition, it was in these places people were baptized in the local waters. Andrew is the patron saint of sailors, so every ship is bound to have Andrew’s flag, and possibly surrounded by water from all sides church refers to this fact. The area of the island is only 100 square meters. To get here is possible by boat or ferry, but in the near future will be built a bridge, way to the dock and the pool for baptizing.
*The Church in the winter landscape*
The site is located near the village of Vasilevo of Priozersk District, in the suburb of St. Petersburg. From St. Petersburg the trip takes about 2 hours.