Tag Archives: St. Joanna

The universe will not stand still.

Saint Joanna the Myrrhbearer

It’s not even midmorning as I am beginning to write this post, and already my Name Day has bestowed several particular delights. One of the first was the ability to take an early walk — it seems so easy when all the conditions are right, and somehow that rarely happens anymore. Hmmm…. Note the passive phrase that flows from my mind, referring to a thing that happens, instead of an action I take. But truly, I am always choosing a direction for my heart to follow, moment by moment, as I respond to constant promptings. This morning I felt no prompting from tired bones to stay in bed, and no prompting from the fog to mope — that tipped the balance.

St. Paisios of Mount Athos

Much as I love the church calendar, and the abundance of events and people to remember and celebrate every day, I don’t always keep in sync with it, or the civil calendar for that matter. Others have told me that they also might miss their name day if someone didn’t remember it for them and wish them a “Happy Name Day!”

I received such a prompt pretty early this morning, as it came from Greece. And the next name-day greeter shared a photo of the icon above, which is by the hand of Janet Jaime, a contemporary iconographer who is new to me. The friend who wrote me from Greece included an encouraging article about holy elders and saints whose prophecies have been much discussed of late, an example being St. Paisios.

Christ praying in Gethsemane

I do think about Current Events, of course. I wouldn’t want to close myself off from what my friends are thinking about, and right now I also have a personal reason to keep at least minimally informed, in that one of my own family members is living in the Middle East and very close to the recent action. Still, it’s important to detach from the stream of noise that is the news, for even half a day, or as long as possible. Because each of us has some work God has given us to do, whether washing the morning dishes or praying on your sick bed, managing a busy restaurant or walking across the street to check on a neighbor. We should be present wherever we physically are.

Today another thing “happened” that became a celebration of my name day, which was the long-awaited lunch together that my goddaughter and I have been trying to accomplish for two years. Naturally we had set the time and place, but without either of us realizing that it was the feast day of St. Joanna, until the day arrived. We spent half the afternoon catching up, and didn’t have a spare moment to talk about events outside of our realm of influence.

Father Stephen Freeman’s blog post for today just happened to be perfect for my name day and my mood: “Everything is in Motion”:

“God’s creation (as we should well know) is everywhere in motion. Every object in the universe is moving (further apart we are told). Even the particles of matter that compose so-called stationary objects (such as rocks) are in motion. Nothing is completely at rest.”

“Everything is in motion, and everything has its direction. That direction is its purpose – its reason for existence and reason for continuing in existence. This reason is its logos. The Logos of all logoi (plural), is Christ Himself.

In the beginning was the Logos, and the Logos was with God and the Logos was God. All things were made through Him…  (John 1:1)

“Each of us has a purpose and reason for existence. For human beings (and all creation), that purpose is union with God…. We move rightly towards the end for which we were created. Salvation, like all things in God’s creation, is dynamic and not static.”

Fr. Stephen goes on to mention how “dizzying” it can be, to live in the midst of this constant swirl that is our world, and our life. He relates how monasteries on Mount Athos will at times set chandeliers swinging during services, which has been described as “representing the dancing of the angels before God.” We often do this in my parish, with four of the six chandeliers that hold real candles turning and twirling while the flames dance.

When I first experienced this I had no idea I would one day enter the Orthodox Church at that parish. I was sitting on the floor during a Vespers service, having come primarily for a weekend food fair. So much was going on in that space, people coming out and going into the altar, other people bowing before the icons or lighting candles, the choir singing beautifully, and no pause in the hymns of praises going up — that is, a lot of movement! — when my gaze was lifted up to the huge chandelier above me — at that time there being just one — which was being pushed by an altar server in such a way that it began to swing into a wide and majestic arc. I thought at the time, These are serious Christians, to worship so extravagantly.

Over the many years since then, I should have known this tradition was symbolic of something, and not just a random act of jubilation. I found a short video that shows one such otherworldly occasion, where multiple chandeliers are in motion, on the Holy Mountain: The Dance of the Cherubim.

You may find it a little jarring, as I did, when phones and cameras other than the one making that video come into view. But I comforted myself knowing that since the angels are immaterial, they are not able to be seen in person or caught in a video unless they choose to take on a material form. But they are probably too busy doing their work of crying “Holy!”, carrying messages, and dancing, to bother about our devices — at least the material kind.

My day is now coming to an end, and it’s time to bring this post to a full stop. The universe is still in motion, I know, but my rational mind and my fingers will cease moving for a few hours. Thank you, St. Joanna, whose name I bear, for your example in actively following Christ in His earthly life, and for your prayers. Thanks be to God for the many ways I have felt His movement, pulling me in, and giving me the strength and will to respond. It feels very much as though I am in The Dance.

The first proclamation, the first Gospel.

My patron saint is Joanna, one of the women who went to Christ’s tomb in order to anoint the body of the Lord with myrrh after His death on the Cross. She also heard from the angels the joyful proclamation of His Glorious Resurrection. She was the wife of Herod’s household steward Khouza (Χουζά) and she served the Lord during His public ministry, along with several other women. She is mentioned in Luke 8:3 and 24:10.

All of these women are commemorated on Myrrhbearers Sunday, which is the second Sunday after Pascha. I found this in a church bulletin:

“The Gospel states that the apostles were amazed by the word of the
women that Jesus was risen. ‘Yea, and certain women also of our company,
who were early at the sepulcher, made us astonished. And when they found
not His body, they came saying that they had also seen a vision of angels,
who said that He was alive.’ Before the Evangelists picked up their pens,
before the apostles walked to the far reaches of the Empire with the sermon,
before Peter proclaimed the good news to thousands on the day of
Pentecost, the myrrh-bearers brought to the apostles the first proclamation,
and the first sermon, and the first Gospel. We should also stand before them
with astonishment.”

Myrrhbearing women at the tomb

I want to be famous.

Five years ago I shared this poem, on the occasion of my name day, which is the day some Orthodox commemorate Joanna the Myrrhbearer. That day is coming up this weekend, and I was longing for a poem to feed on. This is the right one for me now, again.

FAMOUS

The river is famous to the fish.

The loud voice is famous to silence,
which knew it would inherit the earth
before anybody said so.

The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds
watching him from the birdhouse.

The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek.

The idea you carry close to your bosom
is famous to your bosom.

The boot is famous to the earth,
more famous than the dress shoe,
which is famous only to floors.

The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it
and not at all famous to the one who is pictured.

I want to be famous to shuffling men
who smile while crossing streets,
sticky children in grocery lines,
famous as the one who smiled back.

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do.

-Naomi Shihab Nye, from Words Under the Words: Selected Poems

 

 

Wordless flowers, and myrrhbearers.

When I had brought flowers into the house this afternoon, I thought to share them, by way of one of those “Wordless Wednesday Saturday” type of posts, because what could one say that’s better than what the flowers themselves are are already communicating? Unless they are communicating to you what a failure at flower-arranging I am…. My excuse is that I have such atypical flowers for arranging, excepting the callas. This is the first time I’ve used acanthus. The purple blooms are chives, and the white that aren’t callas are ixia.

I wouldn’t have written any of those words, if I hadn’t remembered that it’s Myrrhbearers’ Sunday: I always want to express appreciation for my patron saint Joanna who is numbered among the women who came to anoint the Lord’s body. Flower essences were likely used in the ointments that the women brought to the tomb, and flowers are often given to one’s mother around this time, so let my flowers be in her honor, who is one of my mothers in the faith.

The following I found on our parish announcement page:

Joanna the Myrrhbearer was the wife of Chouza (he was the steward-administrator of King Herod Antipas). She is listed as one of the women, along with Susanna, Mary Magdalene, and others, who “had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities” who accompanied Jesus and the Apostles, and “provided for Him from their substance.” (Luke 8:2-3)

In Luke 23:55–24:11, we have the story of how these same women went to the tomb of Christ as Myrrhbearers to finish the job of embalming Jesus’ body, which was hastily begun by Joseph and Nikodemos. They were perplexed when they found the tomb empty except for the grave clothes. An Angel appeared to them and proclaimed the Resurrection of the Lord. They believed and became the first evangelists of the risen Christ, and became “Apostles to the Apostles.”

Although not mentioned by name, Joanna is most likely counted as one of the women who joined the disciples and Mary, the mother of the Lord, in the upper room in prayer. She was among the group of 120 who chose Matthias to fill the vacancy that was left by Judas, as well as being present on the Day of Pentecost.

According to tradition, Joanna recovered the head of St. John the Forerunner after Herodias had disposed of it (Feb. 24). When Herodias had John beheaded, she cast the head out into an unclean place. Joanna took the head and buried it with honor on the Mount of Olives, on Herod’s land. Later, in the reign of Constantine the Great, the head was found.

An ossuary has been discovered in Israel bearing the inscription, “Johanna, granddaughter of Theophilus, the High Priest.” Whether this is the same Joanna as the Myrrhbearer is unknown.

Just as Joanna stood beside the tomb,
So also she stands beside the throne in the age to come.

—Liturgical verse