Ancient Church

My diploma, please!

Such an eventful spring! I can hardly grasp all that has happened. Olga graduated magna cum laud from college, with a degree in in Classics (”Greek only, please. Latin is boring.”). She is now steeling herself to go cross country to start graduate school, where the unfathomable has happened: she will actually be paid money to go to school, in exchange for which she will be expected to do some teaching. That is an innovation that I fully support. Meanwhile, she has the summer during which she must amuse herself, so she has gone to audition for Sound of Music at the local community theater. As a family, we spent more summers than I care to remember doing summer musicals. I can only conclude that she is a glutton for punishment. This conclusion is buttressed by a plan we have concocted. When it is time for her to go to California, she and I will drive cross country, which is something we have never done before. We envision it as either a great bonding experience, or, if the weather is hot and the air conditioning cranky, maybe a great unbonding. A full report later.

Marina, meanwhile, is about two thirds of the way through her time in community college. Our deal with both of the girls is that if they will do the first two years at the community college, and then finish at a state institution, we would send them overseas to study. Olga liberally construed the last clause, spending two summers touring — uh, I mean studying — in Italy, Greece and Bulgaria. The lesson has not been lost on Marina, who has given a high importance level in choosing a college to what kind of study abroad programs they offer.

For my part, last weekend marked the conclusion of my third year of studies in Johnstown. There seems to be some mild uncertainty as to whether or not they want me to come back. Of course, the rational response is to cut all ties with me, and disavow knowledge of my existence. “That deacon?”, they might respond if asked. “Ummm. I don’t think we know that deacon.” On the other hand, however, the diocese is so forgiving that they may be hoping against hope that one more year may transform me into a cleric who, if not presentable, would at least not be a threat to spill live coals all over the floor. Time will tell the answer to that question. In the meantime, I have an exam to finish this summer, but for now I’m letting it simmer. I’ll pick it up eventually, maybe in a couple of weeks.

But first, in the midst of all of this education, I have found a book about a man who helps us keep perspective. In the past, I have written about the love I have for modern Greek elders. There have been some amazing people living in Greece within the last century. Never let anyone tell you that there are no saints in our time! One of those is Elder Porphyrios, who reposed on Mount Athos in 1991. He was a man who completed only one year of school. After that year, his family’s poverty required him to start working, when he was only seven years old. At 12, he ran away and went to the Holy Mountain, where he became a monk at the age of 14. A serious illness forced him to leave Athos before his twentieth birthday, and he eventually became the Chaplain and confessor at a large hospital in downtown Athens. He later established a monastery near the city. The Elder was given great gifts. He memorized the Psalter and the Gospels shortly after reaching the Holy Mountain, and had the uncanny gift of being able to discern precisely what physical illness people suffered from. He had to study medical texts in order to learn how to convey the information to physicians, but his insights were always correct. More than anything, though, the Elder was characterized by enormous humility and a heart overflowing with love.

So, as I prepare to start my exam, and proudly watch the girls doing wonderful things, I am reading a relatively new book about the Elder, titled Wounded by Love. It consists of many years of notes and recordings made by his spiritual children, and transcribed for the book. In some respects, it will remind you of the Father Arseny books, although the context is very different. Father Arseny was a highly educated man who entered the priesthood from an intellectual world, while Elder Porphyrios was almost illiterate. What Father Arseny and Elder Porphyrios both teach us, though, is that God does not look at the outer person, or at his or her intellect. God looks for a heart that loves Him, and it is there that He will make His home. It is a good thing to keep in mind, as we celebrate the achievements of those we love, and consider our own hopes and our dreams, and what we hope to do during our remaining years in the world.