Tuesday 22 September 2015

It's Greek to me ....

Since returning from my Big Adventure I have committed myself to write monthly for my local church magazine.  Here is my first article :



It’s Greek to me….



The August sun glistened over the deep blue Aegean Sea, the sound of a clanging bell rose from the valley calling me, calling me.



After the community breakfast in the retreat house, I and two new friends disregarded our dishwashing duty and followed our hearts.  The narrow cobbled side street, on the Island of Skyros, was full of people walking towards the cool shade of the Greek Orthodox Church.  Inside old ladies sat on ancient wooden chairs at the back of the building whilst men stood encircling the front area; two cantors were chanting from enclosed upright wooden booths using chest-high arm rests to steady them through the long service.



The priest, heavily robed and wearing a high hat, sported a long grey beard and swung an incense thurible as he muttered in a language I could not understand.  Icons, gold laminated, gave colour to the service and atmosphere; the sweet smell and smoke rising to the blue sky coloured dome above, where our prayers were heading.  Candles flickered and the congregation ‘crossed’ themselves before the communion was offered.



A baby, about 8 months old, was forcibly spoon fed wine – it really did not want it and was obviously scared by the man with a big beard holding his face towards him, crying and twisting his body over his father’s shoulder.  Bread, a whole cob, wrapped in cellophane, was handed out to everyone from a basket.  I took mine and tears filled my eyes feeling unworthy but included.  Later, I tasted it and it was sweet like saffron cake.



As we filed out into the morning sun we were all handed a plastic cup, filled with a wheat mixture, and a spoon.  My new friends explained it was in honour of the deceased – I had noticed a photograph of a man on a pedestal surrounded by white flowers.  We enjoyed fellowship together in a street cafĂ©.  Sunday in Skyros was a special day – ritualistic, dutiful, ancient, honouring.












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