Tag Archives: churches

We step down and back.

architecture, art, history, , , , , , , , , , ,

You can’t walk very far in Thessaloniki without encountering antiquity as more than an idea; the present city layout incorporates reminders of previous communities and cultures, the oldest of which had been buried for thousands of years.

The Church of Panagia Archeiropoietos prompted me to think about this when I visited over the last week.

One has to descend a flight of steps in order to travel back in time to when Byzantine Christians first worshiped here.

One afternoon my guide Maria and I found a university student at work behind the church, in a gated area where she had never been. The priest had given him two tasks: gardening, and also sorting and organizing stone and marble chunks of the church that had broken during earthquakes. He couldn’t have been more pleased.

“Would you like a piece of antiquity?” he asked me. “We have buckets of it!” And he handed me a few small souvenirs of my favorite type.

Inside the church, Maria pointed out to me distinctive features of this basilica style temple built in the 5th century.

It was the first church in Thessaloniki to be turned into a mosque when the Ottomans conquered the city in 1430, and Sultan Murad II inscribed his name and the date on a pillar.

Murad II’s insignia

Historians say that the blue-veined marble in the floors and columns of this church was sourced from the island of Proconnesos in the Sea of Marmara. Before the custom of sitting on chairs in church was introduced in the last century, the pattern on the floor imitating rivers would have been more obvious. Near the altar the lines are wavier. The floor is still the most captivating feature of the space for me. How many people have stood, processed, knelt and prostrated on these smooth and cool floors over the centuries?

I joined the ranks of that company this morning, not just to stand but to kneel, because it is Pentecost Sunday, when Orthodox Christians around the world join in three long prayers, in the service of Kneeling Vespers.

The Byzantine Christians built this temple on top of a Roman bath complex. At places in the church see-through panels (easily ignored and walkable for regular parishioners) reveal below, farther down and further back, three previous layers of Roman floor mosaics from that earlier era.

Yesterday I walked a half hour to the northwest corner of what would have been the old walled city. That’s where the Church of the Twelve Apostles is, which I hadn’t seen yet. But I had forgotten some of the things Maria told me about the best time to go, in order to find it open during or just following a service, and it was closed.

That was okay. I’m pretty much filled to the brim from all of the information and experiences of the last days, and was kind of happy just to have a walk in an area I hadn’t been yet. I came upon one wall portion…

… and as I walked around the church, noting that every gate was locked, I saw a magpie in a tree, a cat trying to stay comfortable in the heat, and the most beautiful pomegranate tree.

The temperature has risen since my arrival in Thessaloniki, and the humidity increased, so that I have needed to walk less briskly, and to return to my hotel in the hottest part of the day to rest for a while before going out in the evening.

But I enjoyed strolling back through the center of the city, where the new Metro has also been built in such a way as to highlight the ancient civilizations that lie in its lower regions.

Maria gave me a tour of it also, and from all levels of that central station we got different views of the street scenes that have been preserved. It was the vastness of the archaeological discoveries, when excavation began for the project, that demanded a thorough and extended discussion about how to respect these artifacts.

The main road of the Roman city.

Layers representing Hellenistic, Roman, Byzantine and Ottoman societies were found, and the decision was made to display the Roman city. All of the artifacts will eventually be exhibited in a museum, a foretaste of which makes a wall display in the lower levels of the Metro station.

I am amazed at the vision and scope of this project. History is alive here.

Roman artifacts

Because my time in Thessaloniki is running out, I need to tell you about the Rotonda now as well. It is the oldest of Thessaloniki’s churches.

This edifice that was built in the early 4th century by the Emperor Galerius, possibly completed by Constantine when he lived here, has walls six meters thick. As soon as I was inside, I felt the immense presence of the place. The only visitor at that time besides us was a woman sitting on a folding chair and reading, and I knew it would be a blessed place just to sit. But I didn’t want it enough to go back and pay another ten euros to enter.

Some historians think that Galerius built it as a mausoleum, as part of the complex including the Arch of Galerius and the palace. But others think it was built as a temple to a god, possibly Zeus, who was Galerius’s patron god.

Galerius was buried in Serbia in any case, and a few decades later the Emperor Theodosius (probably) was the one who ordered the Rotonda to be made into a church dedicated to St. George.

In 1590 it was converted into a mosque for a few hundred years, and a minaret was added. It’s the only minaret that was not removed when the city was liberated from the Ottomans.

Along with the serenity and hugeness of the church, the remaining ancient mosaics impressed me, with their brilliance and detail. So, so lovely, the art that has survived nearly two thousand years and doesn’t show its age. If my neck were stronger, I’d have craned it longer to feast my eyes on the colors of the birds especially.

I think services are held there on the feast of St. George. One doesn’t have to go down to go back, when the Rotonda is taking you; it sits elevated above the city. You just walk up the hill, walk inside, and there you are.

Thessaloniki – Day 1

architecture, church, travel, , ,

My first day in the Greek city of Thessaloniki has been splendid — even though I went to the “wrong” church for Divine Liturgy. What brought me here I will tell you later, but I wanted to report back briefly to everyone who’s been waiting with bated breath to find out where the plane was taking me Saturday.

Hagia Sophia Church in Thessaloniki

I was told that the Sunday morning Matins service was at 7:30, Liturgy at 8:30. As I had crashed utterly spent into my hotel room in the evening, I didn’t have it in me to go to Matins.

I made the short walk in time to arrive a little early for Liturgy, before Matins had ended, and was immediately translated to ancient Christianity by the nine deep and strong voices rising into the heights of the space, amplified by the bare marble floors and stone walls. It really hit me then, that my prayers had been answered and I had made it to my second and last destination of this trip. Thanks to God ❤️

Ascension of Christ – Dome of Hagia Sophia Thessaloniki

After the service the person I was planning to meet didn’t show up… I texted her and we still couldn’t find each other, until she figured out that I was not at the church she had given me Google directions to, which was the Panagia Archeiropoietos. What happened was, the wrong church was pretty much on the path I was following to the other, and I just stopped looking at the map on my phone, and went into the first really old temple I came to. To be safe, my friend came and retrieved me herself from Hagia Sophia Church and took me to the right church briefly.

Acheiropoietos

Surely I will have at least a little more to tell you about these churches and others I’ll be visiting, and about the several people who have already been so hospitable to me. But right now it’s time for bed; I hope Byzantine chanters will sing in my dreams.

Hagia Sophia in Thessaloniki

Last day in Paros.

family, food and cooking, travel, , , ,

Yesterday morning Pippin went out early to explore up the hill from our house, and discovered a carob tree.

She took me back to see it, and later when everyone was up and sipping coffee on the terrace, she read to us about the uses of carob throughout history. Just the night before we had eaten spring rolls that incorporated “carob rusks” for a little crispiness in the wrap of greens and feta.

But the carob pods the tree produces have traditionally been used primarily for feeding livestock — Until the 1960’s, when some of us started using carob flour in bread and candy, and for medicinal uses. I still have carob powder in my pantry, though it’s been a while since I opened the jar. My daughters vaguely remembered the Captain Carob Bread I baked, that was featured in the Laurel’s Kitchen Bread Book.

We walked to the Aliki beach for a last swim and bask in the sun. The goats that live in a dry corral came close to the fence this time and let Maggie and Pippin pet them and take their pictures.

In the afternoon we drove to Parikia to see the Byzantine church of the Panagia Ekatontapiliani, where we spent an hour in wonder and wondering over the ancient architecture and marble carvings, and the way later renovations incorporated broken slabs and pieces into their also tasteful structures.

This last day provided the most challenging parking situations for Kate. In Parikia our maps app directed us to a narrow street near the church, along which she nervously and skillfully, with the aid of several more eyes among us, snugged the car against a stone wall.

And when we returned to Aliki for dinner, we ended up parked on the other side of the bay, and walked across the stony path, which gave us new views of the neighborhood we’ve spent so much time in this week.

It was another sweet and companionable meal together, and our last for this trip.

I’m standing at the tiny Paros airport right now, the next morning, typing on my tiny phone. My daughters dropped me off before taking the ferry to Athens; they will all return home soon, but my stay in Greece is not half done.

Good-bye, Beautiful Paros!

a few churches

buildings, history, travel, , , , ,

The Apostle Thomas first brought the Gospel of Christ to India, so the history of the faith here dates from way back. But in this area around Mumbai it’s the Portuguese influence that began in the 16th century that has resulted in many Catholic churches, schools, and convents. The history of Christianity in India is too vast a subject for me to delve into, much less write about, but I don’t want to leave Mumbai without mentioning a few churches I saw and my quite personal and random impressions.

I didn’t visit any of the churches in the uninterrupted line of St. Thomas, because they are not as convenient to get to, and my contact with Catholic churches was also minimal. Tom and I did see the Afghan Church briefly. Many times the old church buildings themselves are a blessing to me, when I consider all the generations of worshipers who have sung and prayed there.

On my first morning, when Tom took me on that two-hour walking tour, we visited St. Andrew’s Church, which was locked. The caretaker was glad to let us in, and we found that we were not the only visitors. A woman was sitting in a pew facing the altar. We sat in silence for a few minutes also, and then went out to see the graveyard.

The most architecturally impressive church I’ve seen was The Basilica of our Lady of the Mount at Land’s End in Bandra, Mumbai. The current church was built in the 18th century, though a chapel in this spot had been built by the Portuguese in the 1500’s.

We made the trip in one of those black-and-yellow rickshaws such as you can see in front in this picture, and we came expecting that we might have to stand outside, because services are known to be crowded. But we were able to sit in the nave on bench pews, and when we came in there was singing already filling the church, very melodic and light.

People were indeed standing outside around the tall side doors that were open wide, and maybe that’s how birds would fly in and out. For a while only rock doves swooped silently across the altar and back, but soon they were joined by a very noisy crow who made it hard to hear the scripture readings. One dove changed course and flew up and down the length of the nave many times, and the crow eventually either flew out or merely fell silent just before the homily, which was a relief.

I enjoyed the outdoorsy feeling, though, and appreciated the simple and uncushioned, beautiful wooden pews. Just outside afterward we met an acquaintance whose photo with his cute niece I’ve been waiting weeks for a chance to post.

One church we attended in the neighborhood was new to Tom and Kate, as was the Basilica. We walked about ten minutes to get to St. Anne’s, including a walk down a very long driveway to accommodate the cars that weren’t planned for. Tom liked that the church was so old that it had been built before streets were needed, and later on they were not laid out so that they passed very near.

I liked the way the windows were open to the evening (We were at 6 o’clock mass.) and to the courtyard. After the service people hung around in the balmy air (winter is still warm!) to chat.

The atmosphere and the open windows reminded me of church summer camp, especially singing the sort of choruses that hearken back to an earlier period of Christian music in the U.S. at least, such as the ones I’ve copied here, sung out of a book or projected on a screen overhead.

Kate and Tom’s usual parish down the street is newer, and even more accommodating to the weather, the extremes of which I know nothing about. The sides of the nave to a height of eight feet or so consist of louvered, unscreened windows. The louvers were completely open, and large oscillating fans set close blew the pleasantest breeze through the pews. Baby Raj was in the sling and seemed completely asleep through the whole service, but it could be he was listening with his spirit. He was blessed also by the hand of the priest.

I’ve been missing my Orthodox parish, no doubt about it. But it has been a joy to see the lasting effect of faithful witnesses down through the ages in this one community, and to receive through them gifts of grace such as I knew when I saw the sign on St. Peter’s Church here, shortly after Christmas:

JESUS THE FACE OF THE MERCIFUL GOD