Σήμερον κρεμάται επί ξύλου ο εν ύδασι την γην κρεμάσας.
Today He who hung the earth upon the waters is hung on the Tree.
Σήμερον κρεμάται επί ξύλου ο εν ύδασι την γην κρεμάσας.
The King of the angels is decked with a crown of thorns.
He who wraps the heavens in clouds is wrapped in the purple of mockery.
He who freed Adam in the Jordan is slapped on the face.
The Bridegroom of the Church is affixed to the Cross with nails.
The Son of the Virgin is pierced by a spear.
We worship Thy passion, O Christ.
Покланяемся страстем Твоим, Христе.
We worship Thy passion, O Christ.
Show us also Thy glorious resurrection.
Christmas Hymnography
I was raised as an evangelical Protestant. Christmas hymns sounded like this:
O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see Thee lie
Above Thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go byYet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in Thee tonightFor Christ is born of Mary
And, gathered all above
While mortals sleep, the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love
It’s beautiful, peaceful, perhaps a little plaintive. Compare it with the following short hymn chanted on Christmas Eve in the Orthodox Church:
Hear, O heavens, and listen, O earth. Let the foundations be shaken, and let trembling seize the netherworld. For God the Creator has entered the physical world; He who created creation with His mighty hand is a fetus of His own creature. O the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How inscrutable are His judgements, how unsearchable His ways!
The incarnation of the Creator of all was a silent affair, kept hidden from the powers of this world, both secular and demonic. However, it was an event of cosmic significance. Of course I’m only comparing two hymns, but I really think that Orthodox hymnography conveys the stupendous, monumental, earth-shaking import of Christ’s birth somewhat better.
Christ is born! Glorify Him!
With The Saints Give Rest
This hymn was recorded during a funeral at the Cathedral of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Kropyvnytskyi, Ukraine. It perfectly encapsulates the grief and love and faith and pain and yes, even hope that I’ve been living with since March 15. It’s rough and raw and deep — and it ends on Alleluia.
Today should have been Dad’s 72nd birthday.
With the Saints give rest O Christ
to the soul of Thy servant
where sickness and sorrow are no more,
neither sighing but life everlasting.
Thou only art immortal
who hast created and fashioned man.
For out of the earth were we mortals made
and unto the same earth shall we return again
as Thou commanded when Thou madest me, saying unto me
for thou art dust and unto dust shalt thou return.
Whither we mortals all shall go
making our funeral dirge the song:
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!
In Memoria
My dad was known for his sharp and inquisitive mind and his gentle strength of spirit. Many happy evenings were spent sitting quietly in the living room with his wife, each reading a book. At work, he was happiest in the lab, designing or testing equipment. At home, he crafted ingenious solutions out of wood or metal to meet particular needs: laptop stands, bike racks, custom furniture. His love of working with his hands extended to gardening: vegetables, flowers, and a collection of indoor plants all flourished under his care. His love of the natural world included bird watching and camping with his family. We remember him as a quiet, soft-spoken man with a warm sense of humour and a strong faith. He sang in many church choirs over the years, and played in several community bands and orchestras. Dad met his wife-to-be in one of them. He touched the lives of many, and will be missed greatly.
Many Years, Abouna!
Today was the final Liturgy that the Archpriest Fr. Iskander Younes served as the pastor of St George’s Antiochian Orthodox Church in Richmond Hill, ON. Afterwards, the parish hosted a luncheon to honour Abouna for his 23 years of service to our parish. I was invited to say a few words about his outreach to non-Orthodox. Here is the text of that speech.
* * * * * * *
Fr. Iskander, Fr. George, Fr. Bogdan, Dcn. Nabil, Dcn. Elias, my dear brothers and sisters in Christ;
It is both a pleasure and an honour to say a few words today about how Fr. Iskander has reached out to the non-Orthodox. I can’t give a complete description, but I can share with you what I have observed.
My parents raised me to love Christ and the Scriptures, and to show kindness to those who are different from me. When I was twenty, I enrolled as a student at an evangelical Protestant Bible college here in Toronto. I had many questions about the faith, the Bible, and Church history. I knew that two of my friends in high school were Orthodox, but all I knew about the Orthodox Church was that it existed, so I added Orthodoxy to my list of things to learn more about.
During the time I spent as a student, I read about Orthodoxy and discussed what I was learning with my friends. After years of study and debate, my dear friend Carsten said, “We should visit an Orthodox Church.” It seems obvious in hindsight, but that had simply never occurred to me before.
That was in the autumn of 1995. Driving down Bayview to school over the years, I could watch as the construction of the church progressed. When we looked around for an Orthodox parish to visit, this was the obvious choice. It was geography that brought me and Carsten here, to this parish. It was Fr. Iskander who kept us coming back.
Over the next few months, Carsten and I would attend Vespers every Saturday evening and then sit with Abouna in his office and talk for hours. I would occasionally feel guilty about the time he spent with us instead of his family all those Saturday evenings, but Abouna never once rushed us out. He also never pressured us into becoming Orthodox. He listened to us with respect and treated us as real Christians in spite of our Protestant background. Our talks together were wonderful, and I learned more about Orthodoxy in those few months than I had in the previous five years.
Eventually I reached a point where I found myself asking, “Why am I not Orthodox?” I became a catechumen soon after that, and that’s when Abouna began guiding me into the deep waters of Orthodoxy. Our weekly conversations continued, but now he was lending me books to read and offering guidance for my spiritual life. By the end of Great Lent, Fr. Iskander received me and Carsten into the Orthodox Church through the Sacrament of Holy Chrismation. The date was Saturday, April 13th, 1996.
The journey didn’t end there, though. Over the following months and years, Fr. Iskander continued to nurture and guide me. He brought me and Carsten with him to the Holy Dormition Monastery to meet his spiritual father, the confessor Fr. Roman Braga of thrice-blessed memory. Abouna heard my confessions. He gave me opportunities to serve in the parish. He attended the funerals of my (non-Orthodox) grandparents. And above all, his heart was always open.
I know that he has met with other inquirers over the past twenty-three years, and some of them are dedicated members of our parish to this day. The genuine care and non-judgemental attitude Fr. Iskander shows to inquirers, plus his deep knowledge and great generosity with his time are major reasons why people are willing to learn more about the love of Christ and the truth of the Orthodox faith.
I began writing this speech in Halifax, at the Parish Life Conference. While there, I spent a few minutes chatting with Fr. Christopher, the priest at Christ the Saviour in Waterloo. When I told him about this part of our luncheon, he said that the incredible dedication Abouna showed in establishing their parish is continuing to bear fruit, that Fr. Iskander’s love for Christ is continuing to reach the non-Orthodox through the parish that he founded in Waterloo.
A few times a month, Abouna would drive from Richmond Hill to Waterloo to serve the Divine Liturgy in English for a small community of Orthodox Christians there. A few of our parishioners would go with him, to chant, to serve in the altar, to direct the choir. This went on for years, and while he was planting a parish, he was also meeting with individuals the way he had met with me. Eventually, the number of people who were committed to the mission in Waterloo was large enough for them to require a full-time priest. Fr. Christopher was called to the mission and took up where Abouna left off.
And that leads me to my last point. Reaching out to the non-Orthodox isn’t just the work of one person. In my journey into Orthodoxy, the parishioners of St George have been vital. Our parish is very unique and special. Most of us have roots in the Middle East, but we also have Russians, Greeks, Romanians, people with Catholic backgrounds, people with Protestant backgrounds, people who came from other faith traditions. The faithful of St George have opened their hearts and their homes to those who came seeking shelter in this Orthodox parish, no matter where these strangers came from or what language they spoke.
If we are to continue Fr. Iskander’s legacy of welcoming people into the Life of Christ in the Orthodox Church, we must continue to work together in love — all of us, priest and parishioners together — and remember to always welcome the stranger and outcast into our midst.
I’ve spoken too long already, so I’ll conclude by saying we should read over today’s epistle and strive to live it out together. (1 Cor. 12:27-31; 13:1-8)
I thank all of you for giving me this opportunity to say a few words, but most especially I thank Fr. Iskander for all that I’ve mentioned, and all that I’ve left unsaid. Thank you, Abouna.
Wherein I wonder where to wander….
As hinted in my last post from two months ago(!!!), my return from pilgrimage and integration back into normal life has left me feeling too busy for some of the contemplative activities which give me joy: photography and writing are the two most relevant for a blogger. Unless and until my situation changes, updates here will likely remain few.
That said, I’ve decided to take a bit of time to record some of my thoughts on a potential next pilgrimage. I’d only been back home for a month or two when a fellow parishioner came up to me after church and asked where I was planning to go next. At that point, I was still adjusting to life in Canada again, and hadn’t given it any thought. She made a suggestion which I found really appealing, but there are a few other options that I’ve looked at in the past 30 months. At this point, I’m not actively planning anything — I’ve got a full time job and commitments at church, so if I do head off again, it’s not likely to be any time soon.
(I suppose I ought to have typed “when” I do head off again. Life as a long distance walking pilgrim is wonderful, and wonder-full. The world is full of beauty and populated with generous and loving people dwelling in interesting places.)
Leaving Foncebadon in the snow
Although I’m far more interested in new experiences than repeating old favourites, the pilgrimage I’m most likely to undertake next is the Camino de Santiago in 2021. My first Camino was in January and February of 2010, which was a Jubilee Year. In 2021, the western feast of St James will fall on a Sunday, making this a Jubilee Year too. Pascha will be very late that year, so I could begin walking in February and still be back home in Toronto for Forgiveness Vespers on March 14. (Any non-Orthodox folks interested in joining me will be glad to know they’ll be home a few weeks before Holy Week.)
Domes of Spasa na Krovi
Another short (six week) option is the one suggested by my friend at church. Her idea was that I go to Russia and visit the cities of the Golden Ring. I’d visited Russia once before, for a week in 1999. That time, I was part of a tour group that visited sites in the far west of the country. We had a Russian-speaking guide, a bus and driver, and a fixed itinerary. I’m very grateful to have had the chance to visit Valaam Monastery, Kizhi Pogost, St Petersburg, and many other places! This visit was only ten years after the fall of Communism, and I’m eager to see the country now that a generation has passed.
This would be a very different experience. I don’t know if it’s even possible to get a tourist visa unless you’re part of a registered tour group, but that kind of detail will wait until this particular pilgrimage enters the research stage. At this point, I’ve determined that there are towns and villages spread along the route of the Golden Ring, most only 30 kms apart. There might be a few nights that would require sleeping rough between towns, but this is one trip I will not do during the winter! Yes, I’m Canadian and I actually enjoy walking in colder weather, but I’m not willing to carry enough equipment to survive sleeping outdoors during a Moscovite winter.
The walk from Land’s End to John O’Groats (LEJOG) would be rather different for me. Rather than having as its goal a traditional site of pilgrimage, this route from the southern-most tip of Great Britain to the northern-most would be an historical and cultural exploration. The British History Podcast has kinda whet my appetite to see more of Great Britain than I already have, and there would certainly be opportunities to visit sites of pilgrimage along the way. One advantage this has over the others I’ve done is that I know I will be readily understood by everyone I encounter. (My comprehension of the local accents is not such a sure thing.)
I don’t know if I’ll ever actually do this. It typically takes two to three months to do the walk, ten to fourteen days by bicycle. At this point in my life, if I’m going to take that much time to walk, I’d rather do it as a pilgrim than as a tourist.
The final journey that I’ve been idly contemplating is also more of an adventure and less of a pilgrimage. When I first started telling people of my plan to walk the Camino, two of my friends recommended the same author: Patrick Leigh Fermor.
(One of them actually lent me his copies of A Time of Gifts and Between the Woods and the Water. Then when I was laid up in northern Italy, I met another long distance walker who told me that the final volume of Fermor’s journey had been published posthumously. I bought The Broken Road from Amazon and read it with the Kindle app on my phone while I waited for medical approval to continue my pilgrimage.)
In 1933, when Fermor was 18, he dropped out of school and set out to walk from the Hook of Holland all the way to Constantinople. (Technically İstanbul. The Turkish government had renamed the city only three years earlier.) He followed the course of the Rhine from the Atlantic to its source in the Bavarian Alps, and then picked up the Danube at its source and followed it to the Black Sea. From there, he followed the coastline until he reached the great city.
As I mentioned earlier, the world is vast and beautiful. I know that I can’t see everything, so I need to be selective. Central Europe is an area about which I know very little, although the current chapter of Mike Duncan’s podcast Revolutions is filling in some of the gaps. If I were to begin following the course of the Danube at its source near Donaueschingen in the Black Forest of Germany, I would pass through ten countries by the time I reached the Black Sea. The capital cities of Vienna, Bratislava, Budapest, and Belgrade all lie on the Danube. If I were to do this, I’d also want to visit Prague, but that would require a side trip.
Most of my travels have taken place within the bounds of the Roman Empire. The Danube was the northern-most border in continental Europe, just as Hadrian’s Wall was in Great Britain. My Roman roamin’ includes England, France, Spain, Switzerland, Italy, Albania, the Former Yugoslav Republic of Makedonia, Greece, Bulgaria, Turkey, Syria, Lebanon, Cyprus, the Holy Land, Jordan, and Egypt. (And at this point, I just have to mention Mike Duncan’s awesome, award-winning podcast The History of Rome.)
Traversing the length of the Danube would be very satisfying to me from a strictly geographical sense. As a bonus, roughly the last half of my journey would take me through traditional Orthodox lands. I know enough about Romania to REALLY want to visit. Following the Danube would keep me on its border with Bulgaria, so perhaps I would take my leave of the river once I left Serbia.
Anyway, these are some of the travel / pilgrimage options I am playing with. The most “immediate” of them is still three years away, so this post should not be taken as an indication that I’m going away any time soon. (With the caveat, learned the hard way, “If the Lord wills.”)
If you have any suggestions about possible destinations or pilgrimages, please leave a comment for me! (Grabarka is already on my list, and I’d love to visit the Caucasus region some day…)
St Gregory Palamas’ Homily on the Transfiguration
After Pascha, the Feast of the Transfiguration is my favourite festival of the ecclesiastical year. Here’s a homily on the subject by one of the greatest preachers and teachers of all time.