My Greek Odyssey

Independence Day - God Bless the USA

 

  

Years of Stone

Voice: Stelios Kazantzidis

Lyrics: Stamati Spanoudakis

Clarinet: Vasilis Saleas

Translation: Stavros

Σκληροί καιρόι μες την φωτιά
εφτά καημοί πληγές εφτά

Και γω κρατώ κλαδί ελιάς
και συ να κλαίς σαν με κοιτάς

Ελλάδα στους ώμους την γή κουβαλάς
εσύ που χάραξες τους δρόμους
την φωνή σου να βρείς ζητάς

Σαν μια γιορτή απ ' τα παλιά
χρυσή εποχή θα ρθείς ξανά

Ελλάδα στους ώμους την γή κουβαλάς
εσύ που χάραξες τους δρόμους
την φωνή σου να βρείς ζητάς

                * * *

Hard times in the inferno
seven yearnings, seven wounds

I hold an olive branch
and you cry watching me

Greece carried the world on her shoulders
opening up new ways
Now she seeks to find her voice

As a celebration of the past
a golden age will come again

Greece carried the world on her shoulders
opening up new ways
Now she seeks to find her voice

Years of Stone.  Hard times. As I see and read about what is going around me these days I cannot help but regard the era we live in as barren and devoid of hope for the future. My fellow bloggers at LandOfMiracles and Hellenic Antidote chronicle the steady stream of bad news from the Hellenic world.  While I bear silent witness to what seems to me to be the unremitting decline of my own country. 

To be sure our generation has not been the first nor will it be the last to experience hard times.  Our ancestors were tested in the crucible of this world, why should we be an exception? No doubt that the economic realities are bleak; unemployment and inflation are on the rise. The standard of living is falling. There is doubt that our children will do better than their parents.

The economy however, is the least of my worries. Whether my children will have a big screen TV or drive a BMW is unimportant compared to whether or not they will live in a just, moral society unencumbered by the ever growing presence of the state in every aspect of their lives. Will my grandchildren grow up in a society rife with citizens who are slaves of chemical dependency and sex, ignorant, directionless, unthinking wards of a cradle to grave state apparatus that is dedicated to stamping out individual excellence or initiative in the name of diversity and equality? Will they live in a society where people are constantly categorized into self interested groups who are pitted one against the other in order to facilitate the power of the few. Will they live in a leaderless society where people take their cues from bankrupt politicians and know nothing entertainers? Will they live in a society where they have the right to be taken care of but denied their God given and inalienable rights?

Now I don't profess to have all the right answers to the vexing problems facing us. Neither does any one political party or individual. The answers lie in our past, in our history, if only we would give our ancestors an opportunity to tell us. That said, I believe I can discern some of the root causes of the mess we find ourselves in. Absent any attempt to address these problems dooms us to more of the same, if not worse.  They are as follows:

Secularization. The struggle to banish religious faith and a moral code based on it from the public square as if religion must only be practiced in the confines of our houses of worship.

Balkanization. The emphasis on what divides us instead of what unites us. Every society must be based on a mutually accepted set of principles and cultural elements that everyone adheres to otherwise there is no glue keeping its disparate pieces together. Promoting the interests of one group over another or creating a victim mentality or sense of entitlement, no matter how well intentioned, is self-defeating.

Education. The transformation of the role of education from one devoted to the development of critical thinking and competence to one of political indoctrination and social engineering.

Leadership. The creation of a political elite that is self serving, morally bankrupt and unwilling to make the difficult political decisions required or lead by example.

Family. The breakdown of the traditional family unit (the foundation of every successful society) aided and abetted by the state, the breakdown of societal norms and the goals of self-interest groups such as feminists or gays.

Statism. The expectation that the state whether of the Right or Left, can solve every human problem, given the chance.

As I look around me I see the wreckage strewn far and wide. I see a nation which elevates and worships a sad, emotionally disturbed man as some kind of heroic figure. Lawmakers who vote for laws that they neither understand nor have read. Politicians who believe that adultery does not disqualify them from holding office or even assuming the role of a moral authority. Citizens who expect that their debts need not be repaid. Union members who feel entitled to exorbitant benefits even when they are paid for by the taxpayers. Teachers who teach their students what to think instead of how to think.

Time to stop wringing our hands, whether we live in the United States or in Greece, it's time to find a voice and fight the rot.

My Greek Father

This post appears in the latest issue of the Hellenic Voice.  Happy Father's Day to all the Fathers out there.

When I was a kid and television was still the kind of entertainment suitable for a family, one of my favorite shows was "Father Knows Best."  The actor who played the father in the series smoked a pipe, wore a smoking jacket and spoke flawless English.  He had a study where he sat in a big leather chair and solved everyone's problem with unparalleled wisdom.  Let's just say my Greek father did not fit this particular mold.

My Dad spoke English with a heavy accent, he never smoked, didn't own a smoking jacket or a leather chair, and his study consisted of  the kitchen table.  Dad owned tons of books, all in Greek, Euripides, Plato, Homer, Herodotus, the Church Fathers, and on and on. He read the Greek newspaper, carrying it home every night folded in his jacket pocket.  He would cut out articles he liked for future reference. Dad had a rule: speak Greek. This was a guy who also spoke Albanian, Turkish and Italian fluently. I had no idea though how he was ever going to improve his English,  so I wouldn't be embarrassed at parent-teacher meetings.  If that wasn't bad enough, I had to go along to translate. Sometimes he didn't need translation, as in the case of one particular grade school teacher who insisted on calling me "Steve" instead of Stavros. She made me erase the name Stavros from my notebook. When Dad noticed it, he went to school with me the next day, marched up to my teacher and announced:  "Please hees name is Stavros NOT Steve. Thees was hees papou's name. OK. It cannot be chan-ged." At that exact moment  I was hoping the earth would just open up and swallow me whole.

Dad was not the kind of guy that spent lots of time playing with us. I really don't think he knew how, since he was never really given much of an opportunity to learn during his hard scrabble youth in the horio (village). Other kids played catch with their Dads, mine fixed my Greek homework. Other kids went fishing with their Dad, mine helped me memorize the poem of the month at Greek School. Despite all this, there was never any doubt that Dad loved me. There was never a shortage of hugs and kisses, interspersed with a rare attention gaining whack.

When I wanted to join the Marines at the ripe old age of nineteen, Dad tried to talk me out of it. The Vietnam War was killing American boys on a daily basis and he was scared. When he realized that I had made my mind up and for the first time in my life I was digging my heels in refusing to do what he told me to do. He put on his best suit and accompanied me to the recruiting office, to stand by my side. Years later, he came to visit me  when I was a twenty-nine year old Captain stationed at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot at Parris Island, South Carolina.  During his visit I bought him a wrist watch at the base exchange. As I handed him the one I chose for him, despite his protestations, he admired it,  putting it on his wrist.  Teary eyed, he gave me a big hug and kissed me on the cheek. The saleslady behind the counter was startled.  She quickly recovered her composure and said in a quiet southern drawl, "Down here men don't do that sort of thing," she smiled uncomfortably, "but honey, I think its sweet that yo daddy ain't afraid to show such affection to his son." That was one of the best days of my life.

My Dad was always there to gives us a nudge in the right direction. Once that was done, he would back off and quit nit picking.  He understood that God is not finished with any of us yet and that each of us is still a work in progress. When it came to the Orthodox faith, which he loved, Dad always led by example. On more than one occasion I would wake up from a sound sleep to fetch myself a glass of water and catch my father in front of the family icons praying while  the oil lamp flickered in the evening darkness. On Sundays and feast days he was at Church without fail, always on time to serve as a psalter. Dad understood that he could not give  the gift of faith or God's grace to his children.  All he could do was prepare us within the Church to receive it. And so he did.

My daily contact with him during my youth disappeared during my military career when we only saw each other a few times a year. When I finally moved my family to Maine, I was able to spend more time with him after a long absence.  As luck would have it, his health began failing; first a heart attack and then a stroke a few years later.  Dad lived at home with my mother until his mental and physical condition deteriorated to the point where it was impossible for us to take care of him properly. We watched him progressively weaken, from walking unassisted to using a walker to having to use a wheelchair, to being bedridden. Eventually we made a difficult, agonizing choice which many people have to make nowadays.   Medical science can prolong life, however, it can't ensure a good quality of life.  Dad spent the last year of his life in a nursing home. It was to be our longest and most difficult journey together.

Watching what had been a once vibrant and strong man waste away is always difficult. What was harder was not being able to carry on a conversation and ask him the important questions that I never had the time or smarts to pose when he could have answered them. You never get a second chance. It was the little things that gave us both pleasure toward the end: physical contact, feeding him my mother's homemade yogurt  or listening to the hymns he loved so much as a psalter.   His room in the nursing home was sparse, his belongings few. His icons, photographs of his parents, wife, children and grandchildren were next to him.  Sometimes in the evening if I was working late and arrived after he had fallen asleep, I would sit next to his bed, watching him sleep while his slow respirations move his chest every so slightly up and down.  I’d often wonder what he was dreaming about.  I used to imagine that in his dream world he was a boy again back in Epirus. In this dream he was walking down a dirt road herding the family goats and sheep, the bells around their necks ringing as they moved toward his home. In the fading light he sees the smoke of a cooking fire wafting up from the chimney of a simple stone house.  His mother, a black shawl covering her head, stands at the doorway waving to him.  He waves back. He is happy, he picks up his step, all is right with the world.  Along the way he picks a succulent fig from a tree, peels it and savors it in his mouth, smiling. 

My father never made the cover of Time magazine nor did he ever have his fifteen minutes of fame. In a hundred years will anyone even remember that he had walked the earth?  Will his memory and the story of his life be just a collection of distant, fading shadows? Dad was a faithful husband, a loving father, a good Christian, and he lived his life as best he could. Can any of us ask for anything more?

Happy Father’s Day, Baba. May the soil that covers your grave, rest lightly upon you.

I wonder if God is shaken?

Greeks were the first humans who gave considerable thought to the concept of freedom. As a commodity, it is much sought after these days, as events in Iran attest to. Ordinary people are willing to endanger their lives in order to get a taste. In America, freedom has taken on the form of a religion.  Our freedom, is unlike the freedom that the Greeks called "eleftheria, " that is, freedom from being tyranized, enslaved or being violated.  No wonder then that when Iranians pour into the streets in a culmination of years of such tyranny that Americans might have a little difficulty recognizing what it is these people want and our President can only mouth meaningless platitudes.  To many Americans, freedom merely means choosing for oneself based on personal desires without respect to moral obligations.

In a nation that has few communal standards other than freedom, diversity  and choice, increasingly, anything goes.  For example, if a comedian like David Letterman or Bill Maher tells disgusting jokes about a political figure's teenage daughters, it's acceptable to laugh at those jokes, let alone condemn them on moral grounds.  In a world turned upside, praying for the unborn in public or saying the pledge of allegiance are a source of embarassment, yet laughing at the tawdry jokes of two has been comedians desperate to rescue their sinking ratings is not only hip but a celebration of freedom and diversity.

In our evolving democracy, I say evolving because it seems to be changing before our very eyes, the state is assuming ever widening powers aimed at protecting our "rights." These rights are no longer confined to those delineated in our Bill of Rights. They are ever expanding. The right to an abortion, free health care, a job, an income, with or without working, transportation, daycare, a college education, the right to vote regardless of qualifications and even the right to violate the law if you meet certain criteria. So if one enters the country illegally as an aggrieved minority or even "forgets" to pay his taxes before being considered for a cabinet level position, allowances can be made. Even known terrorists captured in war zones trying to kill Americans are entitled to the rights and benefits of citizenship such as Miranda warnings. Should they end up in a place like Guantanomo they can rest assured that they will either end up soaking up the sun in Bermuda on the taxpayer's dime or cooling their heels in a domestic prison where they have the opportunity to indoctrinate their fellow inmates at their leisure.

Responsibilities and duties inherent in citizenship, a bulwark of early Athenian democracy, were eventually cast aside as irrelevant even by the people that invented democracy. Athenians were expected to earn their citizenship by serving as hoplite soldiers or rowing in Athenian triremes. This attitude was replaced when the Athenian polity themselves shifted many of those responsibilities to the State. Even in ancient Athens, elections mattered. The State began hiring mercenaries, taxing the "rich" with increasing frequency and actually even paying its citizens to attend the assembly.  It made as few demands as possible on its citizens. The concept however, of individual rights to be ensured by the state never developed as it did in the United States. Athenians were still guided in large part by their responsibilities to their Gods, their families and their fellow citizens. Nowhere is this exemplified more clearly than in Sophocles' Antigone.

Greek director. George  Tzavellas directed the 1961 movie and wrote the screenplay starring Irene Papas, staying faithful to the original text by Sophocles who wrote the play in 442BC. It is the last of the Oedipus trilogy. The theme is whether one should obey the will of the Gods and family or the laws of the State/King. Antigone is brought before the new King, Creon, to explain why she buried the body of her brother Polynices. Eteocles disobeyed the order of King Oedipus, to rule with his brother Polynices every other year and exiled his brother. Polynices raised an army to reclaim the throne. During the battle the brothers kill each other. Creon, the new ruler of Thebes, has declared that Eteocles will be honored and Polynices disgraced. The rebel brother's body will not be sanctified by holy rites, and will lie unburied on the battlefield, prey for carrion animals, the harshest punishment at the time.  Antigone defiantly retrieves the body and is eventually brought before the King for judgment. She states to King Creon: "nor do I consider your proclamations strong enough, being mortal, to replace the unwritten and safe rules of the Gods" and is ultimately condemned to being buried alive. 

Many young Greeks today who decry what they consider to be an outmoded Orthodox Church often look back on their ancient forbearers as some kind of secular role models. Religion, in fact, was part and parcel, of every aspect of Athenian society.  It's importance as an essential element of Athenian democracy is contrary to the notion of the separation of Church and State which seems to be a guiding principle, these days in the US and Europe.  Although most Americans will tell you otherwise, it is never mentioned in the US Constitution.  In his farewell address, George Washington said "Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of Patriotism, who should labor to subvert these three great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens. The mere politician, equally with the pious man ought to respect and cherish them.  A volume could not trace all their connections with private and public felicity. Let it be simply asked where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation deserts the oaths, which are the instruments of investigation in the courts of justice? And let us with caution indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience forbid us to expect that National morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle."

Seems like we have come a long way since then.

Religious faith and a guiding set of moral principles are key ingredients to creating a workable democracy. They do not in and of themselves guarantee a sustainable or even a prosperous society. Nor am I arguing for a state religion. If history has taught us anything however, it is that the power of the state can be corrupted to such an extent that eleftheria disappears entirely.  When this happens all that we have to fight against it, thereby preserving our humanity, is our belief in God, our families and our fellow citizens.

ΟΙ ΠΟΝΟΙ ΤΗΣ ΠΑΝΑΓΙΑΣ

Πού να σε κρύψω γιόκα μου
να μη σε φτάνουν οι κακοί
σε ποιο νησί του ωκεανού
σε πια κορφή ερημική.

Δε θα σε μάθω να μιλάς
και τ' άδικο φωνάξεις
ξέρω πως θα χεις την καρδιά
τόσο καλή τόσο γλυκή
που μες τα βρόχια της οργής
ταχειά, ταχειά θε να σπαράξεις.

Συ θα'χεις μάτια γαλανά
θα 'χεις κορμάκι τρυφερό
θα σε φυλάω από ματιά κακή
και από κακό καιρό

Από το πρώτο ξάφνιασμα
της ξυπνημένης νιότης
δεν είσαι συ για μάχητες
δεν είσαι συ για το σταυρό
εσύ νοικοκερόπουλο
όχι σκλάβος, όχι σκλάβος ή προδότης

Κι αν κάποτε τα φρένα σου
το δίκιο φως της αστραπής
κι αν η αλήθεια σου ζητήσουνε
παιδάκι μου να μην τα πεις

Θεριά οι ανθρώποι δεν μπορούν
το φως να το σηκώσουν
δεν είναι η αλήθεια πιο χρυσή
απ' την αλήθεια της σιωπής
χίλιες φορές να γεννηθείς
τόσες, τόσες θα σε σταυρώσουν

THE VIRGIN"S PAIN

Where shall I hide you my son
out of reach of the evil ones
on what island in the ocean
on what high deserted peak.

I won't teach you how to speak
and shout against injustice
I know your heart
so good, so sweet
Caught in the rain of anger,
quick and rapid heartbeats

You wil have eyes of blue
a tender body
I will protect you against the evil eye
and bad seasons

From the first fright
of youth awakened
you are not a fighter 
nor are you for the cross
You are a child of home
not a slave, nor a traitor

And if one day in your restraint
in the flash of a just light
they seek the truth from you
my child don't  tell them

Beastly people cannot
bear the light
Is not truth more precious
than the truth of silence ?
May you be born a thousand times
they will crucify you as many.


                      translated by Stavros

 

The Maine Sate Legislature has passed the following resolution aimed at the Government of the Turkish Republic. It joins 26 other states which have passed similar resolutions urging Turkey to stop its ongoing attempts to control and eliminate the Ecumenical Patriarchate. The effort was spearheaded by former State Senator Peter Danton of Saco and it was sponsored by State Representative Linda Valentino, both Democrats.

The following Joint Resolution:
            H.P. 924

JOINT RESOLUTION MEMORIALIZING THE GOVERNMENT OF TURKEY TO UPHOLD AND SAFEGUARD RELIGIOUS AND HUMAN RIGHTS

    WE, your Memorialists, the Members of the One Hundred and Twenty-fourth Legislature of the State of Maine now assembled in the First Regular Session, most respectfully present and petition the Government of Turkey, as follows:

    WHEREAS, the Orthodox Christian Church, in existence for nearly 2,000 years, numbers approximately 300 million members worldwide with more than 2 million members in the United States; and

    WHEREAS, the Ecumenical Patriarchate, located in Istanbul, Turkey, is the Sacred See that presides in a spirit of brotherhood over a communion of self-governing churches of the Orthodox Christian world and the See is led by Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, who is the 269th in direct succession to the Apostle Andrew and holds titular primacy as primus inter pares, meaning "first among equals," in the community of Orthodox churches worldwide; and

    WHEREAS, in 1994, Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, along with leaders of the Appeal of Conscience Foundation, cosponsored the Conference on Peace and Tolerance, which brought together Christian, Jewish and Muslim religious leaders for an interfaith dialogue to help end the Balkan conflict and the ethnic conflict in the Caucasus region; and

    WHEREAS, in 1997, the Congress of the United States awarded Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew the Congressional Gold Medal and, following the terrorist attacks on our nation on September 11, 2001, Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew gathered a group of international religious leaders to produce the first joint statement with Muslim leaders that condemned the 9/11 attacks as "antireligious"; and

    WHEREAS, in October 2005, the Ecumenical Patriarch, along with Christian, Jewish and Muslim leaders, cosponsored the Conference on Peace and Tolerance II to further promote peace and stability in southeastern Europe, the Caucasus region and Central Asia via religious leaders' interfaith dialogue, understanding and action; and

    WHEREAS, since 1453, the continuing presence of the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Turkey has been a living testament to the religious coexistence of Christians and Muslims and this religious coexistence is in jeopardy because the Ecumenical Patriarchate is considered a minority religion by the Turkish government; and

    WHEREAS, the Government of Turkey has limited the candidates available to hold the office of Ecumenical Patriarch to only Turkish nationals, and from the millions of Orthodox Christians living in Turkey at the turn of the 20th century due to the continued policies during this period by the Turkish government, there remain fewer than 3,000 of the Ecumenical Patriarch's flock left in Turkey today; and

    WHEREAS, the Government of Turkey closed the Theological School on the island of Halki in 1971 and has refused to allow it to reopen, thus impeding training for Orthodox Christian clergy and the Government of Turkey has confiscated nearly 94 percent of the Ecumenical Patriarchate's properties and has placed a 42% tax, retroactive to 1999, on the Baloukli Hospital and Home for the Aged, a charity hospital run by the Ecumenical Patriarchate; and

    WHEREAS, the European Union, a group of nations with a common goal of promoting peace and the well-being of its peoples, began accession negotiations with Turkey on October 3, 2005 and the European Union defined membership criteria for accession obligating candidate countries to achieve certain levels of reform, including stability of institutions guaranteeing democracy, adherence to the rule of law and respect for and protection of minorities and human rights; and

    WHEREAS, the Government of Turkey's current treatment of the Ecumenical Patriarchate is inconsistent with the membership conditions and goals of the European Union, and Orthodox Christians in this State and throughout the United States stand to lose their spiritual leader because of the continued actions of the Government of Turkey; and

    WHEREAS, the Archons of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of the Order of St. Andrew the Apostle, a group of laymen who each have been honored with a patriarchal title, or "offikion," by the Ecumenical Patriarch for outstanding service to the Orthodox Church, will send an American delegation to Turkey to meet with officials of the Government of Turkey, as well as the United States Ambassador to the Republic of Turkey, regarding the government's treatment of the Ecumenical Patriarchate; now, therefore, be it

    RESOLVED: That We, your Memorialists, respectfully urge and request the Government of Turkey to uphold and safeguard religious and human rights without compromise, cease its discrimination against the Ecumenical Patriarchate, grant the Ecumenical Patriarch appropriate international recognition, ecclesiastic succession and the right to train clergy of all nationalities and respect the property rights and human rights of the Ecumenical Patriarchate; and be it further

    RESOLVED: That suitable copies of this resolution, duly authenticated by the Secretary of State, be transmitted to the President of the United States, the United States Ambassador to the Republic of Turkey, the Ambassador of the Republic of Turkey to the United States and to each Member of the Maine Congressional Delegation.

Adopted by unanimous vote.

by Dean Kalimniou

His Honour, the Mayor of Cheimarra Vasilis Bolanos, is currently languishing in prison. Some people have called him a criminal. I on the other hand, believe that he is the most stalwart Hellene I have ever had the privilege to meet. A cursory glance of any given year's batch of Diatribes will reveal as least one or two references to him. Vasilis Bolanos is the mayor of a historically Greek region that successive Albanian governments have deemed fit to keep out of the recognized "Greek minority zone." As a result, the Greek character of the majority of the inhabitants of the region is denied to them and they cannot enjoy the basic privilege of education in their mother tongue, or even the basic human right of being able to determine their own ethnic identity. Despite this non-recognition, successive Albanian governments have had to deal with the election of an ethnic Greek mayor over successive elections. This is somewhat embarrassing as it is difficult to explain why an ethnic Greek would be continuously re-elected in a region that is supposed to be non-Greek. Over the years, various Albanian groups have: beaten up and stabbed voters, stolen ballot boxes, engaged in blackmail and resorted to the Courts in order to have elections that Vasilis Bolanos had won, invalid. Despite all this, Vasilis Bolanos gets re-elected every time.

I will never forget driving with him through the village of Shen Vasilj, (Άγιος Βασίλειος), formerly inhabited exclusively by ethnic Greeks. As we struggled to negotiate the tortuous, pot-holed road, we came upon a desolate square, bordered all around by drab yellowing stone walls. On the far wall, in red ink, this slogan slashed its way across the brick-work: «ΘΑΝΑΤΟΣ ΣΤΟΥΣ ΕΛΛΗΝΕΣ.» I looked at the ruddy complexioned Bolanos out of the corner of his eye. His jaw had tightened, his lips had pursed so that I could see small rivulets of veins appearing at the corners of his mouth. Then with a twinkle of this eyes, he quipped: "Yeah, well now I think you know what these people's attitude is to Greek package tours."

If generalizations are ever permissible, one would venture to say that Cheimarriots are generally known to be stoic, inflexible and more unflinchingly patriotic than their compatriots. It is this unquestioned commitment to the Hellenic cause that has made the region of Cheimarra suffer perhaps more than any other under successive Albanian regimes. It was the Cheimarriots refusal to support the Communist Hoxha regime (after all, as early as 1914 their captain Spyros Spyromilios had declared the union of Cheimarra with Greece) that saw him ensure that they were not included in the government-sanctioned minority zone. Amazingly, they retained their language and traditions despite the official prohibitions and dire punishments in store for those who would assert the Greek character of the region. Vasilis Bolanos, who is also the president of Omonoia, the organisation that champions the awarding of human rights to the Greeks of Albania, is thus merely continuing in the tradition of his kinfolk. He does so in Cheimarriot fashion, commemorating Greek national days, raising the Greek flag and doing his upmost to convince Albanian public opinion, imbued for the large part as it is with nationalist exclusivist myths, that a Greek ethno-cultural affiliation can harmoniously co-exist with an Albanian nationality.

Read the whole thing here.

 

July 14, 1861.
Camp Clark, Washington

My Very Dear Sarah,

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days — perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more. Our movements may be of a few days duration and full of pleasure — and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine, O God be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battle field for my Country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing — perfectly willing — to lay down all my joys in this life to help maintain this Government and to pay that debt.

But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys, I lay down nearly all of your’s, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows, when after having eaten for long years the bitter fruits of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children, is it weak or dishonorable, that while the banner of my forefathers floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, underneath my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children should struggle in fierce, though useless contest with my love of Country.

I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm Summer Sabbath night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying perhaps the last sleep before that of death while I am suspicious that Death is creeping around me with his fatal dart, as I sit communing with God, my Country and thee. I have sought most closely and diligently and often in my heart for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I love, and I could find none. A pure love of my Country and of the principles I have so often advocated before the people — ‘the name of honor, that I love more than I fear death,’ has called upon me, and I have obeyed.

Sarah my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables, that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind, and bears me irresistibly on with all those chains, to the battle field.

The memories of all the blissful moments I have spent with you, come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and you that I have enjoyed them so long. And how hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our boys grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me — perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name.

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless, how foolish I have often times been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears, every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortunes of this world to shield you, and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the Spirit-land and hover near you, while you buffit the storm, with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience, till we meet to part no more.

But, O Sarah! if the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the gladest days and the darkest nights, advised to your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours, always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, or the cool air cools your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.

As for my little boys — they will grow up as I have done, and never know a father’s love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long — and my blue eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters, and feel that God will bless you in your holy work.

Tell my two Mothers I call God’s blessings upon them new. O! Sarah I wait for you there; come to me, and lead thither my children.

Sullivan

Amanes are a musical form which has both Turkish and Greek origins. They were  brought to Greece after the Turkish-Greek War of 1920-1922 by the flood of refugees that streamed out of Asia Minor. The sheer numbers of refugees created an audience for the music and there were many musicians among them. More importantly, their associations with the laments of Greek folk tradition, made them an ideal way to express the grief and nostalgia felt by the refugees. They were a cry of bitterness from the dispossessed, many of whom were mourning for the loss of loved ones and their worldly fortunes. 

For the newly arrived refugees, the cafes of Athens were places to gather and collectively mourn the loss of their homelands while at the same time enjoying the talented artists who had emigrated from Constantinople or Smyrna. These artists soon made a large impact on the local Greek musical scene. One of the best practitioners of this particular art form was a Rembetissa name Rita Abdazi. Not much is known about her life. She was born in Smyrna in 1903 and fled Greece as a refugee with her mother and sister in 1922. Her father was among the thousands of missing men who had been routinely separated from their families before their expulsion from Asia Minor. He was either killed or sent to work in a labor battalion somewhere in the Anatolian interior never to be heard from again.

The tragedy of her life and the lives of so many other Greeks is reflected in her powerful music. Indeed, they can be heard and felt in her voice, particularly in the many haunting amanades for which she became famous. Abadzi’s voice has been described as earthy and soulful. Her amanes are uniquely adapted to the plight of the refugees and close in spirit and sentiment to the many Greek folk songs about ksenitia (foreign lands). These songs are often about the loss of sons, husbands or other male kin who have gone abroad. Gazeli Neva Sabah is an example of one of Abadzi’s more chilling amanades. These  vocal improvisations built around the word “aman,” which is used in both Greece and throughout the Middle East are an expression of despair and frustration. Gazeli Neva Sabah was recorded in Athens in 1934. Abadzi is accompanied by Lambros Savaïdis on kanun (a stringed instrument with a narrow trapezoidal soundboard) and Dimitris Semsis (Salonikios) on violin. Its lyrics are both sobering and heartfelt:

Aman
A person must give some thought to the hour of his death;
when he will go down into the black earth
and his name will be erased.

The concept of the black earth, is an ancient one for the Greeks, stretching back millennia. Homer uses it, albeit in its archaic form no fewer than five times in the Iliad. In Book II, he describes the death of a captain called Protesilaus by writing:

‘ere now the black earth held him fast.

In modern Greek literature and music, the black earth represents not only death, but also foreign exile such as the kind experienced by Abadzi and her family. It also alludes to the death of Greek culture in Asia Minor following the catastrophe of 1922 and the expulsion of the Greek population. Three-thousand years of Hellenism was snuffed out virtually overnight and, as the song says, "its name erased."

Excerpted from Digenis Akritas; the Two-Blood Border Lord: The Grottaferrata Version

by Denison B. Hull

"BASIL the Two-Blood Border Lord, better known by his Greek name, Basileios Digenis Akritas, was a legendary hero of the Byzantine Empire, a gigantic figure clad in Christian orthodoxy, who has become the symbol of the eternal spirit of Hellas to the modern Greeks. His story, commonly known as Digenis Akritas, follows in many respects the same epic tradition as the Iliad, the Morte Darthur, the Chanson de Roland, and the Nibelungenlied, which honor national heroes, were written long after the event, and contain threads of recognizable history. Like these epics, the story of Basil the Two-Blood Border Lord contains the theme of loyalty to a code of honor and behavior, although its code is somewhat different.

The Eastern Roman, or as we now call it, the Byzantine Empire, therefore remained the sole defender of the Christian faith, the center of the civilized world, and a great power, for the name Rome still held magic. Its gold coin, the bezant, dominated finance and commerce throughout Europe and the Mediterranean world and maintained its value for over seven hundred years. The Sacred Palace of its Emperors was so splendid that it vied with the palace of Haroun al-Rashid in Baghdad, so vividly described for us in the Thousand and One Nights. And finally, Byzantium was the repository of all the learning of the past, the books and treasures of the classical world.

In a state with a centralized government such as that of the Byzantine Empire, where a huge bureaucracy existed, the road to advancement was solely through education, particularly a Hellenistic education. Any foreigner, whether Slav or Arab, could become a Byzantine simply by submission to the Emperor and conversion to the Orthodox faith, but the upper classes who occupied most of the offices in the bureaucracy were Greek, and both proud and jealous of their Hellenism. An education on the classical model was therefore essential, not for cultural reasons alone, but for economic reasons as well. Opportunities for learning were excellent. In Constantinople at the secular university in the Magnaura Palace, founded in 864, Leo the Mathematician, the man who built the famous golden plane tree with its mechanical singing birds and roaring lions in the throne room forthe Emperor Theophilus, taught philosophy, higher arithmetic, music, geometry and astronomy, and all students were expected to be thoroughly versed in the classics and rhetoric. Thus, at a time when only the clergy and a few traders in western Europe knew how to read and write, the upper-class Byzantines could swap quotations from Homer and the classics, or argue fine points of theological doctrine. Even in the provinces education was not wholly ignored. If the military aristocracy on its big estates could barely write a sentence that was free from elementary mistakes in spelling and grammar, even the poorest child could learn to read and write if he were determined. The Church, at the Third Council of Constantinople in 681, had ordained that the clergy should establish church schools in all towns and villages to teach elementary subjects that were economically necessary, and some of these, at least, must still have been in operation in the ninth and tenth centuries.

The central fact of the Empire was the Emperor himself. He was not only the legitimate heir to the throne of the ancient Roman Empire, still the most powerful single state in Europe, but more inportant, he was considered God's representative on earth. He governed by the grace of God; his imperial power proceeded from God's grace. If he were murdered, it was a sign that God's grace had abandoned him. If his murderer succeeded him to the throne, God's grace apparently had descended on the murderer. The Emperor was not deified, as the pagan emperors had been, although Constantine had been given the title Equal to the Apostles and was thought to be the wisest of the heralds of the faith -- one who, with Christ as his breastplate, could deflect the weapons of the enemy.

And the empire had many enemies. The German, Viking, Slavic, Hunnish and Turkic migrations during the fourth and fifth centuries were over, but they had left a turbulence and unrest in their wakes, for many tribes were still looking for permanent places to settle. The Empire was therefore in constant danger of being overrun, particularly from the north and east, the directions from which the latest migrants had come. The west was still Roman in culture and sentiment; the empire founded by Charlemagne on the ruins of the old Western Roman Empire was in convulsions for some time after his death, and the new German states of western Europe were still not

strong enough to make trouble. The Normans would not begin their conquest of southern Italy and Sicily for another hundred years, and the struggle between the Emperor and the Pope for control of the Church had not yet reached the breaking point. The Arabs under Maslama had tried to take Constantinople in 717 but had lost 150,000 men out of an army of 180,000 and all but five of a fleet of 2,500 ships, which had been burned by Greek fire, the secret weapon of the Byzantines, or had been sunk in action or wrecked by storms. The Slavs had infiltrated the central part of the Balkan peninsula, and the Bulgars had tried several times to take the city by land, but had failed. They were the most dangerous enemy the Empire had on its northern frontier. At the time the events in the poem begin, Krum, their Sublime Khan, had just died, and his successor, Omortag, had concluded a thirty years' peace with Byzantium. The worst threat at this time came, as it so often did, from the east, not from the Persians, their historic enemies, who had been permanently crushed by the Emperor Heraclius in the seventh century, nor from the Ottoman Turks, who had not yet appeared on the scene, but from the Arabs. Ever since the Prophet Mohammed had proclaimed Islam, the Arabs had been conducting a never-ending holy war; practically, there might be truces at any time because the state of active combat did not exist everywhere simultaneously and individual Arabs and Byzantines might become friendly. But the Prophet himself had made it a practice to raid enemy territory at least once a year. The Caliphs who succeeded him increased the number of raids to two, or sometimes three. The spring raid was usually conducted between May 10 and June 10, and lasted about thirty days. The summer raid was between July 10 and September 8, and lasted about sixty days. The third raid was in winter, and lasted about twenty days during February and March. To meet these threats the emperor had a well-equipped, wellorganized, well-trained, and well-disciplined army. It bore little resemblance to the infantry legions of pagan Rome, for it consisted largely of heavy cavalry used in mass formation, and infantry, though still in use, was only an auxiliary. In addition it had a form of field artillery, catapults mounted on carts, which were used for throwing stones or showers of arrows. The Byzantine - Arab conflicts that lasted from the 7th century to the early 11th century provide the context for Byzantine heroic poetry written in the vernacular Greek language. The acrites of the Byzantine Empire of this period were a military class responsible for safeguarding the frontier regions of the imperial territory from external enemies and freebooting adventurers who operated on the fringes of the empire. The work is comprised of two parts. In the first, the "Lay of the Emir", which bears more obviously the characteristics of epic poetry, an Arab emir invades Cappadocia and carries off the daughter of a Byzantine general. The emir agrees to convert to Christianity for the sake of the daughter and resettle in Romania (Byzantine, Roman lands) together with his people. The issue of their union is a son, Digenis Akritas. The second part of the work relates the development of the young hero and his superhuman feats of bravery and strength: like his father, he carries off the daughter of another Byzantine general and then marries her; he kills a dragon; he takes on the so-called apelates, a group of bandits, and then defeats their three leaders in single combat. No one, not even the amazingly strong female warrior Maximu, with whom he commits the sin of adultery, can match him. Having defeated all his enemies Digenis builds a luxurious palace by the Euphrates, where he ends his days peacefully They poured around me eagerly like eagles, Some striking at arm's length with rapid sword cuts, Some thrusting mightily at me with lances, And others stabbing at me with their daggers. Who was my ally then? My guard and shelter? 690 None except God, the great and righteous Judge, For He sent help down to me from on high, And against expectations, kept me harmless, Shut in the middle of so many foes, Smitten from every side, but scorning flight. 695 For I had armor that was strongly made, And, thanks to God, was not hurt in the battle, And thus their boldness did not come to much, But was extinguished quickly, with God's help. Then with the saints, the martyred Theodores, 700 Demetrius and George, I beat them all. I did not take a lance or bow against them, But drew my sword, and came within arm's length. As many of them as I caught I slew, And earth received them when they lost their souls. 705 Others who wished to flee, I overtook, And when they couldn't stand and fight against me, Dismounted from their steeds, threw arms away, Surrendered, and ran off, possessed by trembling.

 

The following is an address given recently by Athanasios, the Metropolitan of Limassol, Cyprus

"It is a fact that we are proud about our Greek origin and our relationship with Christ and with the Gospel, not wrongly of course, although sometimes we tend to exaggerate, but history justifies the Greek nation.
Many nations have heard the word of the Gospel, many nations were visited by the Apostles and for a time they became Christians, but over the centuries they were lost either because they were subjugated by other nations, or because they changed their religion entirely, or because they joined other sects whose beliefs  distorted the truth of the Gospel. The Greek nation, the Greek race, the Greeks, despite the many difficulties they had faced, kept the Bible, kept their faith in the Church, in Orthodoxy. They not only kept it intact but during the time of the Byzantine Empire they also gave the Gospel to other nations (e.g, Russians, Bulgarians, Romanians, Serbs, Georgians), throughout Eastern Europe.

Our Byzantine Greek ancestors insisted, although the West reacted against this, that nations new to the Orthodox faith should worship God in their own language. That is the reason why the Saints Cyril and Methodius who took the Gospel to the Slavs, created an alphabet for them, in order to make it possible for the Slavic people to have their own written language, to be able to become educated, to grow culturally as a people with their own identity, and worship God in their own language. The Gospel was never used by the Greeks as a means of conquest of other peoples. Instead, it was an offer of truth and light, offered as a choice, and never by force. In the Orthodox Church we do not have the phenomenon of imposing Orthodoxy by force on other nations. The question is, we Orthodox Christians, how can we identify the love for our country in conjunction with our Orthodox faith?

As Greeks and as Orthodox Christians, we are proud that until the present times we hold the Orthodox faith unchanged and unreformed, and with it, we have the blessing to carry the Cross, the Holy Cross of the Greek race in the world, which carries our glorious history. The Greek race, having very ancient roots in history, reached such high levels of philosophical depth and revelations that it has become to be considered as the precursor of Christianity.

I think that being Greek is not pride but a Cross , and only as a Cross and as a service to mankind we can keep ourselves today. We are Greeks and we have a history, like every nation and all peoples in the world, and we recognize the right for every person on earth to feel proud of his history, and his ancestors. We are proud as Greeks not because we worshiped the false gods of Olympus, but we are proud because we are a people with philosophical quests, we are proud because we are a nation that gave birth to democracy, to philosophy.National celebrations are of course celebrations of initiation in meaning, but they are also a way to judge our own life. And we must be able to accept this judgment because otherwise history will judge us as a people who have never learned from this same history and our course in it.

History must teach us, and we, if we are worthy of our ancestors, if we are their true children, then we must be willing to learn, because we have the heavy heritage of being Greek. This means that we have a glorious history in war and in struggles. The Greeks held their flag to show that they were fighting as they were saying "for the faith and the homeland", to show that they were fighting for certain ideals, they were idealists, they were not warriors in the real sense of the word, but became warriors when necessity called upon them, and when it was actually a vital need, in order to keep their faith and their homeland.  Today my brothers and sisters we have to keep this country within the margins that our heroes had delivered it to us , and within the same direction, with much care, with much wisdom, and with much patience."

Read the whole thing at NOCTOC

 

Chris Gavriel lives in Haverhill and when he drives down to Santarpio's in East Boston, it's usually for the lamb. But this day, he was there to talk about his kids, Dimitrios and Christina.

"They were a year-and-a-half apart," he said. "Christina adored her big brother."

When Chris Gavriel came here from Greece almost 40 years ago, he didn't speak a word of English, which is the only reason he didn't end up walking around the jungles of Vietnam. He got drafted, but the Army said he had to learn the language first, and by the time he did the war was over.

He and his wife, Penelope, embraced America, especially the upward mobility that education afforded. He became an aerospace engineer, she a scientist.

It was given that their kids would be high achievers. Dimi was an all-state wrestler, graduated from Brown University, and launched a career on Wall Street. Christina aced every test, got a doctorate, and became a pharmacist.

And then 9/11 happened and everything changed.

"Dimi had a lot of friends who worked in the World Trade Center," his father said. "He was on the phone with one of them, after the planes hit. He was talking to his friend when the tower fell. He heard the noise."

Later, when Dimi Gavriel stood before his father and announced he was joining the Marines, Chris Gavriel was filled with fear and dread and pride and awe, and the emotions fought with each other even as Chris Gavriel knew he could not fight with his son.

"He said, 'Dad, someone's gotta go. I can't just ask everybody else to do it.' Dimi was patriotic, but not in a gung-ho, political sense. He was very aware of the fact that this country had blessed his family. His exact words were, 'I want to give something back.' "

Dimi was 27, ancient for a Marine recruit. He dropped 40 pounds and convinced the Marines those nagging wrestling injuries were just that.

"Christina didn't want him to go. None of us did. She begged him not to go," Chris Gavriel said.

The day before he left for training on Parris Island, Dimi Gavriel got a big job offer. But by this time, you could have offered him all the money in the world. His world was not on Wall Street anymore, but with Bravo Company, First Battalion of the Eighth Marine Regiment, Second Marine Division.

When he got to Iraq, he didn't want his family to worry, so he told them he was doing logistics.

"It made sense that they'd have him work intelligence," his father said.

But nothing makes sense in war. Lance Corporal Dimitrios Gavriel, who read poetry and people's faces, chose to man a machine gun.

In July 2004, as the Marines fought to take control of Fallujah, he was shot and killed.

"You go through a range of emotions," Chris Gavriel explained. "Grief. Anger. Pride. Everything at once and everything alone. There's not a minute in my life that it's not on my mind."

He was surprised and not so surprised when Christina came to him later and said she had to do something.

She had to join the Marines.

She had to feel what her brother felt. Duty. Honor. Blisters on Parris Island. Camaraderie.

"I couldn't walk in their shoes," Chris Gavriel said of his son and daughter. "The decision they made, I couldn't make. As much as I love this country, I couldn't do it."

Corporal Christina Gavriel fixes helicopters at Camp Pendleton in San Diego, but when she calls her dad, the aerospace engineer, they don't talk shop. He tells her he loves her. That's enough.

On Patriots Day, people in these parts sleep in, or they run the marathon, or they watch others run it.

Chris Gavriel spends it remembering a son who embodied the day, and thinking of a daughter who personifies its enduring power.

              The went with songs to the battle, they were young,
              Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
              They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
              They fell with their faces to the foe.       
           
              They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
              Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn,
                    
              At the going down of the sun and in the morning
              We will remember them.

                                                                                 Laurence Binyon
                                                                                                               

        Ας είναι ελαφρύ το χώμα που τον σκεπάζει.

"Chance Phelps was wearing his Saint Christopher medal when he was killed on Good Friday. Eight days later, I handed the medallion to his mother. I didn't know Chance before he died. Today, I miss him.

Over a year ago, I volunteered to escort the remains of Marines killed in Iraq should the need arise. The military provides a uniformed escort for all casualties to ensure they are delivered safely to the next of kin and are treated with dignity and respect along the way.

Thankfully, I hadn't been called on to be an escort since Operation Iraqi Freedom began. The first few weeks of April, however, had been a tough month for the Marines. On the Monday after Easter I was reviewing Department of Defense press releases when I saw that a Private First Class Chance Phelps was killed in action outside of Baghdad. The press release listed his hometown--the same town I'm from. I notified our Battalion adjutant and told him that, should the duty to escort PFC Phelps fall to our Battalion, I would take him."

Read the whole thing here.

Freedom or Eleftheria?

Greeks were the first humans who gave considerable thought to the concept of freedom. As a commodity, it is much sought after these days, as events in Iran attest to. Ordinary people are willing to endanger their lives in order to get a taste. In America, freedom has taken on the form of a religion.  Our freedom, is unlike the freedom that the Greeks called "eleftheria, " that is, freedom from being tyranized, enslaved or being violated.  No wonder then that when Iranians pour into the streets in a culmination of years of such tyranny that Americans might have a little difficulty recognizing what it is these people want and our President can only mouth meaningless platitudes.  To many Americans, freedom merely means choosing for oneself based on personal desires without respect to moral obligations.

In a nation that has few communal standards other than freedom, diversity  and choice, increasingly, anything goes.  For example, if a comedian like David Letterman or Bill Maher tells disgusting jokes about a political figure's teenage daughters, it's acceptable to laugh at those jokes, let alone condemn them on moral grounds.  In a world turned upside, praying for the unborn in public or saying the pledge of allegiance are a source of embarassment, yet laughing at the tawdry jokes of two has been comedians desperate to rescue their sinking ratings is not only hip but a celebration of freedom and diversity.

In our evolving democracy, I say evolving because it seems to be changing before our very eyes, the state is assuming ever widening powers aimed at protecting our "rights." These rights are no longer confined to those delineated in our Bill of Rights. They are ever expanding. The right to an abortion, free health care, a job, an income, with or without working, transportation, daycare, a college education, the right to vote regardless of qualifications and even the right to violate the law if you meet certain criteria. So if one enters the country illegally as an aggrieved minority or even "forgets" to pay his taxes before being considered for a cabinet level position, allowances can be made. Even known terrorists captured in war zones trying to kill Americans are entitled to the rights and benefits of citizenship such as Miranda warnings. Should they end up in a place like Guantanomo they can rest assured that they will either end up soaking up the sun in Bermuda on the taxpayer's dime or cooling their heels in a domestic prison where they have the opportunity to indoctrinate their fellow inmates at their leisure.

Responsibilities and duties inherent in citizenship, a bulwark of early Athenian democracy, were eventually cast aside as irrelevant even by the people that invented democracy. Athenians were expected to earn their citizenship by serving as hoplite soldiers or rowing in Athenian triremes. This attitude was replaced when the Athenian polity themselves shifted many of those responsibilities to the State. Even in ancient Athens, elections mattered. The State began hiring mercenaries, taxing the "rich" with increasing frequency and actually even paying its citizens to attend the assembly.  It made as few demands as possible on its citizens. The concept however, of individual rights to be ensured by the state never developed as it did in the United States. Athenians were still guided in large part by their responsibilities to their Gods, their families and their fellow citizens. Nowhere is this exemplified more clearly than in Sophocles' Antigone.

Greek director. George  Tzavellas directed the 1961 movie and wrote the screenplay starring Irene Papas, staying faithful to the original text by Sophocles who wrote the play in 442BC. It is the last of the Oedipus trilogy. The theme is whether one should obey the will of the Gods and family or the laws of the State/King. Antigone is brought before the new King, Creon, to explain why she buried the body of her brother Polynices. Eteocles disobeyed the order of King Oedipus, to rule with his brother Polynices every other year and exiled his brother. Polynices raised an army to reclaim the throne. During the battle the brothers kill each other. Creon, the new ruler of Thebes, has declared that Eteocles will be honored and Polynices disgraced. The rebel brother's body will not be sanctified by holy rites, and will lie unburied on the battlefield, prey for carrion animals, the harshest punishment at the time.  Antigone defiantly retrieves the body and is eventually brought before the King for judgment. She states to King Creon: "nor do I consider your proclamations strong enough, being mortal, to replace the unwritten and safe rules of the Gods" and is ultimately condemned to being buried alive. 

Many young Greeks today who decry what they consider to be an outmoded Orthodox Church often look back on their ancient forbearers as some kind of secular role models. Religion, in fact, was part and parcel, of every aspect of Athenian society.  It's importance as an essential element of Athenian democracy is contrary to the notion of the separation of Church and State which seems to be a guiding principle, these days in the US and Europe.  Although most Americans will tell you otherwise, it is never mentioned in the US Constitution.  In his farewell address, George Washington said "Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of Patriotism, who should labor to subvert these three great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens. The mere politician, equally with the pious man ought to respect and cherish them.  A volume could not trace all their connections with private and public felicity. Let it be simply asked where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation deserts the oaths, which are the instruments of investigation in the courts of justice? And let us with caution indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience forbid us to expect that National morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle."

Seems like we have come a long way since then.

Religious faith and a guiding set of moral principles are key ingredients to creating a workable democracy. They do not in and of themselves guarantee a sustainable or even a prosperous society. Nor am I arguing for a state religion. If history has taught us anything however, it is that the power of the state can be corrupted to such an extent that eleftheria disappears entirely.  When this happens all that we have to fight against it, thereby preserving our humanity, is our belief in God, our families and our fellow citizens.

The Virgin's Pain - Nikos Xylouris

ΟΙ ΠΟΝΟΙ ΤΗΣ ΠΑΝΑΓΙΑΣ

Πού να σε κρύψω γιόκα μου
να μη σε φτάνουν οι κακοί
σε ποιο νησί του ωκεανού
σε πια κορφή ερημική.

Δε θα σε μάθω να μιλάς
και τ' άδικο φωνάξεις
ξέρω πως θα χεις την καρδιά
τόσο καλή τόσο γλυκή
που μες τα βρόχια της οργής
ταχειά, ταχειά θε να σπαράξεις.

Συ θα'χεις μάτια γαλανά
θα 'χεις κορμάκι τρυφερό
θα σε φυλάω από ματιά κακή
και από κακό καιρό

Από το πρώτο ξάφνιασμα
της ξυπνημένης νιότης
δεν είσαι συ για μάχητες
δεν είσαι συ για το σταυρό
εσύ νοικοκερόπουλο
όχι σκλάβος, όχι σκλάβος ή προδότης

Κι αν κάποτε τα φρένα σου
το δίκιο φως της αστραπής
κι αν η αλήθεια σου ζητήσουνε
παιδάκι μου να μην τα πεις

Θεριά οι ανθρώποι δεν μπορούν
το φως να το σηκώσουν
δεν είναι η αλήθεια πιο χρυσή
απ' την αλήθεια της σιωπής
χίλιες φορές να γεννηθείς
τόσες, τόσες θα σε σταυρώσουν

THE VIRGIN"S PAIN

Where shall I hide you my son
out of reach of the evil ones
on what island in the ocean
on what high deserted peak.

I won't teach you how to speak
and shout against injustice
I know your heart
so good, so sweet
Caught in the rain of anger,
quick and rapid heartbeats

You wil have eyes of blue
a tender body
I will protect you against the evil eye
and bad seasons

From the first fright
of youth awakened
you are not a fighter 
nor are you for the cross
You are a child of home
not a slave, nor a traitor

And if one day in your restraint
in the flash of a just light
they seek the truth from you
my child don't  tell them

Beastly people cannot
bear the light
Is not truth more precious
than the truth of silence ?
May you be born a thousand times
they will crucify you as many.


                      translated by Stavros

Maine State Legislature Adopts Resolution Supporting the Ecumenical Patriarchate

 

The Maine Sate Legislature has passed the following resolution aimed at the Government of the Turkish Republic. It joins 26 other states which have passed similar resolutions urging Turkey to stop its ongoing attempts to control and eliminate the Ecumenical Patriarchate. The effort was spearheaded by former State Senator Peter Danton of Saco and it was sponsored by State Representative Linda Valentino, both Democrats.

The following Joint Resolution:
            H.P. 924

JOINT RESOLUTION MEMORIALIZING THE GOVERNMENT OF TURKEY TO UPHOLD AND SAFEGUARD RELIGIOUS AND HUMAN RIGHTS

    WE, your Memorialists, the Members of the One Hundred and Twenty-fourth Legislature of the State of Maine now assembled in the First Regular Session, most respectfully present and petition the Government of Turkey, as follows:

    WHEREAS, the Orthodox Christian Church, in existence for nearly 2,000 years, numbers approximately 300 million members worldwide with more than 2 million members in the United States; and

    WHEREAS, the Ecumenical Patriarchate, located in Istanbul, Turkey, is the Sacred See that presides in a spirit of brotherhood over a communion of self-governing churches of the Orthodox Christian world and the See is led by Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, who is the 269th in direct succession to the Apostle Andrew and holds titular primacy as primus inter pares, meaning "first among equals," in the community of Orthodox churches worldwide; and

    WHEREAS, in 1994, Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, along with leaders of the Appeal of Conscience Foundation, cosponsored the Conference on Peace and Tolerance, which brought together Christian, Jewish and Muslim religious leaders for an interfaith dialogue to help end the Balkan conflict and the ethnic conflict in the Caucasus region; and

    WHEREAS, in 1997, the Congress of the United States awarded Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew the Congressional Gold Medal and, following the terrorist attacks on our nation on September 11, 2001, Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew gathered a group of international religious leaders to produce the first joint statement with Muslim leaders that condemned the 9/11 attacks as "antireligious"; and

    WHEREAS, in October 2005, the Ecumenical Patriarch, along with Christian, Jewish and Muslim leaders, cosponsored the Conference on Peace and Tolerance II to further promote peace and stability in southeastern Europe, the Caucasus region and Central Asia via religious leaders' interfaith dialogue, understanding and action; and

    WHEREAS, since 1453, the continuing presence of the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Turkey has been a living testament to the religious coexistence of Christians and Muslims and this religious coexistence is in jeopardy because the Ecumenical Patriarchate is considered a minority religion by the Turkish government; and

    WHEREAS, the Government of Turkey has limited the candidates available to hold the office of Ecumenical Patriarch to only Turkish nationals, and from the millions of Orthodox Christians living in Turkey at the turn of the 20th century due to the continued policies during this period by the Turkish government, there remain fewer than 3,000 of the Ecumenical Patriarch's flock left in Turkey today; and

    WHEREAS, the Government of Turkey closed the Theological School on the island of Halki in 1971 and has refused to allow it to reopen, thus impeding training for Orthodox Christian clergy and the Government of Turkey has confiscated nearly 94 percent of the Ecumenical Patriarchate's properties and has placed a 42% tax, retroactive to 1999, on the Baloukli Hospital and Home for the Aged, a charity hospital run by the Ecumenical Patriarchate; and

    WHEREAS, the European Union, a group of nations with a common goal of promoting peace and the well-being of its peoples, began accession negotiations with Turkey on October 3, 2005 and the European Union defined membership criteria for accession obligating candidate countries to achieve certain levels of reform, including stability of institutions guaranteeing democracy, adherence to the rule of law and respect for and protection of minorities and human rights; and

    WHEREAS, the Government of Turkey's current treatment of the Ecumenical Patriarchate is inconsistent with the membership conditions and goals of the European Union, and Orthodox Christians in this State and throughout the United States stand to lose their spiritual leader because of the continued actions of the Government of Turkey; and

    WHEREAS, the Archons of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of the Order of St. Andrew the Apostle, a group of laymen who each have been honored with a patriarchal title, or "offikion," by the Ecumenical Patriarch for outstanding service to the Orthodox Church, will send an American delegation to Turkey to meet with officials of the Government of Turkey, as well as the United States Ambassador to the Republic of Turkey, regarding the government's treatment of the Ecumenical Patriarchate; now, therefore, be it

    RESOLVED: That We, your Memorialists, respectfully urge and request the Government of Turkey to uphold and safeguard religious and human rights without compromise, cease its discrimination against the Ecumenical Patriarchate, grant the Ecumenical Patriarch appropriate international recognition, ecclesiastic succession and the right to train clergy of all nationalities and respect the property rights and human rights of the Ecumenical Patriarchate; and be it further

    RESOLVED: That suitable copies of this resolution, duly authenticated by the Secretary of State, be transmitted to the President of the United States, the United States Ambassador to the Republic of Turkey, the Ambassador of the Republic of Turkey to the United States and to each Member of the Maine Congressional Delegation.

Adopted by unanimous vote.

Free Bolanos

by Dean Kalimniou

His Honour, the Mayor of Cheimarra Vasilis Bolanos, is currently languishing in prison. Some people have called him a criminal. I on the other hand, believe that he is the most stalwart Hellene I have ever had the privilege to meet. A cursory glance of any given year's batch of Diatribes will reveal as least one or two references to him. Vasilis Bolanos is the mayor of a historically Greek region that successive Albanian governments have deemed fit to keep out of the recognized "Greek minority zone." As a result, the Greek character of the majority of the inhabitants of the region is denied to them and they cannot enjoy the basic privilege of education in their mother tongue, or even the basic human right of being able to determine their own ethnic identity. Despite this non-recognition, successive Albanian governments have had to deal with the election of an ethnic Greek mayor over successive elections. This is somewhat embarrassing as it is difficult to explain why an ethnic Greek would be continuously re-elected in a region that is supposed to be non-Greek. Over the years, various Albanian groups have: beaten up and stabbed voters, stolen ballot boxes, engaged in blackmail and resorted to the Courts in order to have elections that Vasilis Bolanos had won, invalid. Despite all this, Vasilis Bolanos gets re-elected every time.

I will never forget driving with him through the village of Shen Vasilj, (Άγιος Βασίλειος), formerly inhabited exclusively by ethnic Greeks. As we struggled to negotiate the tortuous, pot-holed road, we came upon a desolate square, bordered all around by drab yellowing stone walls. On the far wall, in red ink, this slogan slashed its way across the brick-work: «ΘΑΝΑΤΟΣ ΣΤΟΥΣ ΕΛΛΗΝΕΣ.» I looked at the ruddy complexioned Bolanos out of the corner of his eye. His jaw had tightened, his lips had pursed so that I could see small rivulets of veins appearing at the corners of his mouth. Then with a twinkle of this eyes, he quipped: "Yeah, well now I think you know what these people's attitude is to Greek package tours."

If generalizations are ever permissible, one would venture to say that Cheimarriots are generally known to be stoic, inflexible and more unflinchingly patriotic than their compatriots. It is this unquestioned commitment to the Hellenic cause that has made the region of Cheimarra suffer perhaps more than any other under successive Albanian regimes. It was the Cheimarriots refusal to support the Communist Hoxha regime (after all, as early as 1914 their captain Spyros Spyromilios had declared the union of Cheimarra with Greece) that saw him ensure that they were not included in the government-sanctioned minority zone. Amazingly, they retained their language and traditions despite the official prohibitions and dire punishments in store for those who would assert the Greek character of the region. Vasilis Bolanos, who is also the president of Omonoia, the organisation that champions the awarding of human rights to the Greeks of Albania, is thus merely continuing in the tradition of his kinfolk. He does so in Cheimarriot fashion, commemorating Greek national days, raising the Greek flag and doing his upmost to convince Albanian public opinion, imbued for the large part as it is with nationalist exclusivist myths, that a Greek ethno-cultural affiliation can harmoniously co-exist with an Albanian nationality.

Read the whole thing here.

The Letter of Major Sullivan Ballou

 

July 14, 1861.
Camp Clark, Washington

My Very Dear Sarah,

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days — perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more. Our movements may be of a few days duration and full of pleasure — and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine, O God be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battle field for my Country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing — perfectly willing — to lay down all my joys in this life to help maintain this Government and to pay that debt.

But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys, I lay down nearly all of your’s, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows, when after having eaten for long years the bitter fruits of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children, is it weak or dishonorable, that while the banner of my forefathers floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, underneath my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children should struggle in fierce, though useless contest with my love of Country.

I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm Summer Sabbath night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying perhaps the last sleep before that of death while I am suspicious that Death is creeping around me with his fatal dart, as I sit communing with God, my Country and thee. I have sought most closely and diligently and often in my heart for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I love, and I could find none. A pure love of my Country and of the principles I have so often advocated before the people — ‘the name of honor, that I love more than I fear death,’ has called upon me, and I have obeyed.

Sarah my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables, that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind, and bears me irresistibly on with all those chains, to the battle field.

The memories of all the blissful moments I have spent with you, come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and you that I have enjoyed them so long. And how hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our boys grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me — perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name.

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless, how foolish I have often times been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears, every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortunes of this world to shield you, and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the Spirit-land and hover near you, while you buffit the storm, with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience, till we meet to part no more.

But, O Sarah! if the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the gladest days and the darkest nights, advised to your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours, always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, or the cool air cools your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.

As for my little boys — they will grow up as I have done, and never know a father’s love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long — and my blue eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters, and feel that God will bless you in your holy work.

Tell my two Mothers I call God’s blessings upon them new. O! Sarah I wait for you there; come to me, and lead thither my children.

Sullivan

Aman

Amanes are a musical form which has both Turkish and Greek origins. They were  brought to Greece after the Turkish-Greek War of 1920-1922 by the flood of refugees that streamed out of Asia Minor. The sheer numbers of refugees created an audience for the music and there were many musicians among them. More importantly, their associations with the laments of Greek folk tradition, made them an ideal way to express the grief and nostalgia felt by the refugees. They were a cry of bitterness from the dispossessed, many of whom were mourning for the loss of loved ones and their worldly fortunes. 

For the newly arrived refugees, the cafes of Athens were places to gather and collectively mourn the loss of their homelands while at the same time enjoying the talented artists who had emigrated from Constantinople or Smyrna. These artists soon made a large impact on the local Greek musical scene. One of the best practitioners of this particular art form was a Rembetissa name Rita Abdazi. Not much is known about her life. She was born in Smyrna in 1903 and fled Greece as a refugee with her mother and sister in 1922. Her father was among the thousands of missing men who had been routinely separated from their families before their expulsion from Asia Minor. He was either killed or sent to work in a labor battalion somewhere in the Anatolian interior never to be heard from again.

The tragedy of her life and the lives of so many other Greeks is reflected in her powerful music. Indeed, they can be heard and felt in her voice, particularly in the many haunting amanades for which she became famous. Abadzi’s voice has been described as earthy and soulful. Her amanes are uniquely adapted to the plight of the refugees and close in spirit and sentiment to the many Greek folk songs about ksenitia (foreign lands). These songs are often about the loss of sons, husbands or other male kin who have gone abroad. Gazeli Neva Sabah is an example of one of Abadzi’s more chilling amanades. These  vocal improvisations built around the word “aman,” which is used in both Greece and throughout the Middle East are an expression of despair and frustration. Gazeli Neva Sabah was recorded in Athens in 1934. Abadzi is accompanied by Lambros Savaïdis on kanun (a stringed instrument with a narrow trapezoidal soundboard) and Dimitris Semsis (Salonikios) on violin. Its lyrics are both sobering and heartfelt:

Aman
A person must give some thought to the hour of his death;
when he will go down into the black earth
and his name will be erased.

The concept of the black earth, is an ancient one for the Greeks, stretching back millennia. Homer uses it, albeit in its archaic form no fewer than five times in the Iliad. In Book II, he describes the death of a captain called Protesilaus by writing:

‘ere now the black earth held him fast.

In modern Greek literature and music, the black earth represents not only death, but also foreign exile such as the kind experienced by Abadzi and her family. It also alludes to the death of Greek culture in Asia Minor following the catastrophe of 1922 and the expulsion of the Greek population. Three-thousand years of Hellenism was snuffed out virtually overnight and, as the song says, "its name erased."

Akritas

Excerpted from Digenis Akritas; the Two-Blood Border Lord: The Grottaferrata Version

by Denison B. Hull

"BASIL the Two-Blood Border Lord, better known by his Greek name, Basileios Digenis Akritas, was a legendary hero of the Byzantine Empire, a gigantic figure clad in Christian orthodoxy, who has become the symbol of the eternal spirit of Hellas to the modern Greeks. His story, commonly known as Digenis Akritas, follows in many respects the same epic tradition as the Iliad, the Morte Darthur, the Chanson de Roland, and the Nibelungenlied, which honor national heroes, were written long after the event, and contain threads of recognizable history. Like these epics, the story of Basil the Two-Blood Border Lord contains the theme of loyalty to a code of honor and behavior, although its code is somewhat different.

The Eastern Roman, or as we now call it, the Byzantine Empire, therefore remained the sole defender of the Christian faith, the center of the civilized world, and a great power, for the name Rome still held magic. Its gold coin, the bezant, dominated finance and commerce throughout Europe and the Mediterranean world and maintained its value for over seven hundred years. The Sacred Palace of its Emperors was so splendid that it vied with the palace of Haroun al-Rashid in Baghdad, so vividly described for us in the Thousand and One Nights. And finally, Byzantium was the repository of all the learning of the past, the books and treasures of the classical world.

In a state with a centralized government such as that of the Byzantine Empire, where a huge bureaucracy existed, the road to advancement was solely through education, particularly a Hellenistic education. Any foreigner, whether Slav or Arab, could become a Byzantine simply by submission to the Emperor and conversion to the Orthodox faith, but the upper classes who occupied most of the offices in the bureaucracy were Greek, and both proud and jealous of their Hellenism. An education on the classical model was therefore essential, not for cultural reasons alone, but for economic reasons as well. Opportunities for learning were excellent. In Constantinople at the secular university in the Magnaura Palace, founded in 864, Leo the Mathematician, the man who built the famous golden plane tree with its mechanical singing birds and roaring lions in the throne room forthe Emperor Theophilus, taught philosophy, higher arithmetic, music, geometry and astronomy, and all students were expected to be thoroughly versed in the classics and rhetoric. Thus, at a time when only the clergy and a few traders in western Europe knew how to read and write, the upper-class Byzantines could swap quotations from Homer and the classics, or argue fine points of theological doctrine. Even in the provinces education was not wholly ignored. If the military aristocracy on its big estates could barely write a sentence that was free from elementary mistakes in spelling and grammar, even the poorest child could learn to read and write if he were determined. The Church, at the Third Council of Constantinople in 681, had ordained that the clergy should establish church schools in all towns and villages to teach elementary subjects that were economically necessary, and some of these, at least, must still have been in operation in the ninth and tenth centuries.

The central fact of the Empire was the Emperor himself. He was not only the legitimate heir to the throne of the ancient Roman Empire, still the most powerful single state in Europe, but more inportant, he was considered God's representative on earth. He governed by the grace of God; his imperial power proceeded from God's grace. If he were murdered, it was a sign that God's grace had abandoned him. If his murderer succeeded him to the throne, God's grace apparently had descended on the murderer. The Emperor was not deified, as the pagan emperors had been, although Constantine had been given the title Equal to the Apostles and was thought to be the wisest of the heralds of the faith -- one who, with Christ as his breastplate, could deflect the weapons of the enemy.

And the empire had many enemies. The German, Viking, Slavic, Hunnish and Turkic migrations during the fourth and fifth centuries were over, but they had left a turbulence and unrest in their wakes, for many tribes were still looking for permanent places to settle. The Empire was therefore in constant danger of being overrun, particularly from the north and east, the directions from which the latest migrants had come. The west was still Roman in culture and sentiment; the empire founded by Charlemagne on the ruins of the old Western Roman Empire was in convulsions for some time after his death, and the new German states of western Europe were still not

strong enough to make trouble. The Normans would not begin their conquest of southern Italy and Sicily for another hundred years, and the struggle between the Emperor and the Pope for control of the Church had not yet reached the breaking point. The Arabs under Maslama had tried to take Constantinople in 717 but had lost 150,000 men out of an army of 180,000 and all but five of a fleet of 2,500 ships, which had been burned by Greek fire, the secret weapon of the Byzantines, or had been sunk in action or wrecked by storms. The Slavs had infiltrated the central part of the Balkan peninsula, and the Bulgars had tried several times to take the city by land, but had failed. They were the most dangerous enemy the Empire had on its northern frontier. At the time the events in the poem begin, Krum, their Sublime Khan, had just died, and his successor, Omortag, had concluded a thirty years' peace with Byzantium. The worst threat at this time came, as it so often did, from the east, not from the Persians, their historic enemies, who had been permanently crushed by the Emperor Heraclius in the seventh century, nor from the Ottoman Turks, who had not yet appeared on the scene, but from the Arabs. Ever since the Prophet Mohammed had proclaimed Islam, the Arabs had been conducting a never-ending holy war; practically, there might be truces at any time because the state of active combat did not exist everywhere simultaneously and individual Arabs and Byzantines might become friendly. But the Prophet himself had made it a practice to raid enemy territory at least once a year. The Caliphs who succeeded him increased the number of raids to two, or sometimes three. The spring raid was usually conducted between May 10 and June 10, and lasted about thirty days. The summer raid was between July 10 and September 8, and lasted about sixty days. The third raid was in winter, and lasted about twenty days during February and March. To meet these threats the emperor had a well-equipped, wellorganized, well-trained, and well-disciplined army. It bore little resemblance to the infantry legions of pagan Rome, for it consisted largely of heavy cavalry used in mass formation, and infantry, though still in use, was only an auxiliary. In addition it had a form of field artillery, catapults mounted on carts, which were used for throwing stones or showers of arrows. The Byzantine - Arab conflicts that lasted from the 7th century to the early 11th century provide the context for Byzantine heroic poetry written in the vernacular Greek language. The acrites of the Byzantine Empire of this period were a military class responsible for safeguarding the frontier regions of the imperial territory from external enemies and freebooting adventurers who operated on the fringes of the empire. The work is comprised of two parts. In the first, the "Lay of the Emir", which bears more obviously the characteristics of epic poetry, an Arab emir invades Cappadocia and carries off the daughter of a Byzantine general. The emir agrees to convert to Christianity for the sake of the daughter and resettle in Romania (Byzantine, Roman lands) together with his people. The issue of their union is a son, Digenis Akritas. The second part of the work relates the development of the young hero and his superhuman feats of bravery and strength: like his father, he carries off the daughter of another Byzantine general and then marries her; he kills a dragon; he takes on the so-called apelates, a group of bandits, and then defeats their three leaders in single combat. No one, not even the amazingly strong female warrior Maximu, with whom he commits the sin of adultery, can match him. Having defeated all his enemies Digenis builds a luxurious palace by the Euphrates, where he ends his days peacefully They poured around me eagerly like eagles, Some striking at arm's length with rapid sword cuts, Some thrusting mightily at me with lances, And others stabbing at me with their daggers. Who was my ally then? My guard and shelter? 690 None except God, the great and righteous Judge, For He sent help down to me from on high, And against expectations, kept me harmless, Shut in the middle of so many foes, Smitten from every side, but scorning flight. 695 For I had armor that was strongly made, And, thanks to God, was not hurt in the battle, And thus their boldness did not come to much, But was extinguished quickly, with God's help. Then with the saints, the martyred Theodores, 700 Demetrius and George, I beat them all. I did not take a lance or bow against them, But drew my sword, and came within arm's length. As many of them as I caught I slew, And earth received them when they lost their souls. 705 Others who wished to flee, I overtook, And when they couldn't stand and fight against me, Dismounted from their steeds, threw arms away, Surrendered, and ran off, possessed by trembling.

The Nation of the Greeks

 

The following is an address given recently by Athanasios, the Metropolitan of Limassol, Cyprus

"It is a fact that we are proud about our Greek origin and our relationship with Christ and with the Gospel, not wrongly of course, although sometimes we tend to exaggerate, but history justifies the Greek nation.
Many nations have heard the word of the Gospel, many nations were visited by the Apostles and for a time they became Christians, but over the centuries they were lost either because they were subjugated by other nations, or because they changed their religion entirely, or because they joined other sects whose beliefs  distorted the truth of the Gospel. The Greek nation, the Greek race, the Greeks, despite the many difficulties they had faced, kept the Bible, kept their faith in the Church, in Orthodoxy. They not only kept it intact but during the time of the Byzantine Empire they also gave the Gospel to other nations (e.g, Russians, Bulgarians, Romanians, Serbs, Georgians), throughout Eastern Europe.

Our Byzantine Greek ancestors insisted, although the West reacted against this, that nations new to the Orthodox faith should worship God in their own language. That is the reason why the Saints Cyril and Methodius who took the Gospel to the Slavs, created an alphabet for them, in order to make it possible for the Slavic people to have their own written language, to be able to become educated, to grow culturally as a people with their own identity, and worship God in their own language. The Gospel was never used by the Greeks as a means of conquest of other peoples. Instead, it was an offer of truth and light, offered as a choice, and never by force. In the Orthodox Church we do not have the phenomenon of imposing Orthodoxy by force on other nations. The question is, we Orthodox Christians, how can we identify the love for our country in conjunction with our Orthodox faith?

As Greeks and as Orthodox Christians, we are proud that until the present times we hold the Orthodox faith unchanged and unreformed, and with it, we have the blessing to carry the Cross, the Holy Cross of the Greek race in the world, which carries our glorious history. The Greek race, having very ancient roots in history, reached such high levels of philosophical depth and revelations that it has become to be considered as the precursor of Christianity.

I think that being Greek is not pride but a Cross , and only as a Cross and as a service to mankind we can keep ourselves today. We are Greeks and we have a history, like every nation and all peoples in the world, and we recognize the right for every person on earth to feel proud of his history, and his ancestors. We are proud as Greeks not because we worshiped the false gods of Olympus, but we are proud because we are a people with philosophical quests, we are proud because we are a nation that gave birth to democracy, to philosophy.National celebrations are of course celebrations of initiation in meaning, but they are also a way to judge our own life. And we must be able to accept this judgment because otherwise history will judge us as a people who have never learned from this same history and our course in it.

History must teach us, and we, if we are worthy of our ancestors, if we are their true children, then we must be willing to learn, because we have the heavy heritage of being Greek. This means that we have a glorious history in war and in struggles. The Greeks held their flag to show that they were fighting as they were saying "for the faith and the homeland", to show that they were fighting for certain ideals, they were idealists, they were not warriors in the real sense of the word, but became warriors when necessity called upon them, and when it was actually a vital need, in order to keep their faith and their homeland.  Today my brothers and sisters we have to keep this country within the margins that our heroes had delivered it to us , and within the same direction, with much care, with much wisdom, and with much patience."

Read the whole thing at NOCTOC

The Values of Hellenism: Pericles Funeral Oration

A Family of Patriots by Kevin Cullen

 

Chris Gavriel lives in Haverhill and when he drives down to Santarpio's in East Boston, it's usually for the lamb. But this day, he was there to talk about his kids, Dimitrios and Christina.

"They were a year-and-a-half apart," he said. "Christina adored her big brother."

When Chris Gavriel came here from Greece almost 40 years ago, he didn't speak a word of English, which is the only reason he didn't end up walking around the jungles of Vietnam. He got drafted, but the Army said he had to learn the language first, and by the time he did the war was over.

He and his wife, Penelope, embraced America, especially the upward mobility that education afforded. He became an aerospace engineer, she a scientist.

It was given that their kids would be high achievers. Dimi was an all-state wrestler, graduated from Brown University, and launched a career on Wall Street. Christina aced every test, got a doctorate, and became a pharmacist.

And then 9/11 happened and everything changed.

"Dimi had a lot of friends who worked in the World Trade Center," his father said. "He was on the phone with one of them, after the planes hit. He was talking to his friend when the tower fell. He heard the noise."

Later, when Dimi Gavriel stood before his father and announced he was joining the Marines, Chris Gavriel was filled with fear and dread and pride and awe, and the emotions fought with each other even as Chris Gavriel knew he could not fight with his son.

"He said, 'Dad, someone's gotta go. I can't just ask everybody else to do it.' Dimi was patriotic, but not in a gung-ho, political sense. He was very aware of the fact that this country had blessed his family. His exact words were, 'I want to give something back.' "

Dimi was 27, ancient for a Marine recruit. He dropped 40 pounds and convinced the Marines those nagging wrestling injuries were just that.

"Christina didn't want him to go. None of us did. She begged him not to go," Chris Gavriel said.

The day before he left for training on Parris Island, Dimi Gavriel got a big job offer. But by this time, you could have offered him all the money in the world. His world was not on Wall Street anymore, but with Bravo Company, First Battalion of the Eighth Marine Regiment, Second Marine Division.

When he got to Iraq, he didn't want his family to worry, so he told them he was doing logistics.

"It made sense that they'd have him work intelligence," his father said.

But nothing makes sense in war. Lance Corporal Dimitrios Gavriel, who read poetry and people's faces, chose to man a machine gun.

In July 2004, as the Marines fought to take control of Fallujah, he was shot and killed.

"You go through a range of emotions," Chris Gavriel explained. "Grief. Anger. Pride. Everything at once and everything alone. There's not a minute in my life that it's not on my mind."

He was surprised and not so surprised when Christina came to him later and said she had to do something.

She had to join the Marines.

She had to feel what her brother felt. Duty. Honor. Blisters on Parris Island. Camaraderie.

"I couldn't walk in their shoes," Chris Gavriel said of his son and daughter. "The decision they made, I couldn't make. As much as I love this country, I couldn't do it."

Corporal Christina Gavriel fixes helicopters at Camp Pendleton in San Diego, but when she calls her dad, the aerospace engineer, they don't talk shop. He tells her he loves her. That's enough.

On Patriots Day, people in these parts sleep in, or they run the marathon, or they watch others run it.

Chris Gavriel spends it remembering a son who embodied the day, and thinking of a daughter who personifies its enduring power.

              The went with songs to the battle, they were young,
              Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
              They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
              They fell with their faces to the foe.       
           
              They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
              Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn,
                    
              At the going down of the sun and in the morning
              We will remember them.

                                                                                 Laurence Binyon
                                                                                                               

        Ας είναι ελαφρύ το χώμα που τον σκεπάζει.

TAKING CHANCE by LtCol. Michael R. Strobl, USMC

"Chance Phelps was wearing his Saint Christopher medal when he was killed on Good Friday. Eight days later, I handed the medallion to his mother. I didn't know Chance before he died. Today, I miss him.

Over a year ago, I volunteered to escort the remains of Marines killed in Iraq should the need arise. The military provides a uniformed escort for all casualties to ensure they are delivered safely to the next of kin and are treated with dignity and respect along the way.

Thankfully, I hadn't been called on to be an escort since Operation Iraqi Freedom began. The first few weeks of April, however, had been a tough month for the Marines. On the Monday after Easter I was reviewing Department of Defense press releases when I saw that a Private First Class Chance Phelps was killed in action outside of Baghdad. The press release listed his hometown--the same town I'm from. I notified our Battalion adjutant and told him that, should the duty to escort PFC Phelps fall to our Battalion, I would take him."

Read the whole thing here.