The pope is so hot right now. Everyone is discussing the long-awaited Magnifica Humanitas papal encyclical from the Roman Pontiff. It makes sense. In a world where much of the responsibility for moral leadership has been abdicated, we are in much need of a figure who can provide that leadership with reach and authority. Enter Pope Leo XIV, who took his name when he ascended to the papacy from the previous Pope Leo XIII, who dedicated much of his time to helping the world come to grips with industrialization.
Whether marching for a Sikh holiday, visiting a Jewish children”s center or attending Divine Liturgy, I’ve never seen a politician put so much effort into respecting the faith traditions of others as Zohran Mamdani. New York is such a diverse city and you truly get the impression that the mayor sees the strength of this. In the words of one commenter, he really knows how to make people feel seen.
Today marks 205 years of Greek independence. I was grateful to stand in solidarity with Greek Orthodox New Yorkers at the Divine Liturgy, commemorating this triumph of self-determination.
It’s exciting to keep up with what Mamdani is doing in New York. His agenda feels like a sea change in political priorities. I hope to see positive effects coming from the work his adminstraction is engaged in.
Most of you may know that I joined the Orthodox Christian church two years ago. I came from a lifelong background with mainline Christian churches. The Orthodox Church doesn’t describe itself as a denomination, but rather as pre-denominational, tracing its lineage back to the Apostles.
My wife and I just finished watching the 2024 documentary Sacred Alaksa. The film was shown during family ed night at our parish a few weeks ago, but I was celebrating my brother’s birthday and couldn’t make it. I was disappointed not be to able to attend and resolved to see the film in short order.
“Sacred Alaska” is an award-winning documentary that offers an intimate look into Native Alaskan culture and spirituality. It showcases the profound influence of Orthodoxy, introduced by Russian monks in the late 18th century, on Alaskan society. The film highlights the unique way Alaskans have woven their indigenous beliefs with Orthodox traditions, deeply influencing their worldview. Central to this is the concept of learning to become a “real person.” Through beautiful cinematography and powerful storytelling, “Sacred Alaska” underscores the profound, sacred bond between the Alaskan people, their faith, and the formidable landscape they call home.
I enjoyed this trip through Mt. Athos from the lense of an outsider. Of special interest to me were the descriptions of the icons, their history and their presence.
I expected I was the only person in the space, until I sensed another presence emanating, inexplicably, from the icon of St. Anne. Her face was blackened from centuries of devotional candles. The instinct of an art historian might be to accurately date it, or even to clean it. This was a welcome thought that put me safely in the driver’s seat of this encounter. But then all such ambition evaporated, and it felt more like the icon wanted to clean me. I looked into Anne and Mary’s blackened faces. With enough prayer and candle smoke, I suppose every icon is on its way to becoming black.
The story of the the Gatekeeper icon is one of those wonderous Orthodox tales of which I am so fond. The combination of the material and the spiritual lodges powerful concepts in my mind.
The Old Smithyville Burying Ground. Photo by Gerry Dincher via flickr.
A few weeks ago, our family took a trip to the beach. It’s an annual ritual when our health and schedule afford it. We try to look for activities, but mostly we take it easy and enjoy the ocean and the slower pace of life. This year we were interested in doing a ghost walk around the nearby town of Southport. Southport has a history going back to the 1700s and is ripe for hauntings. We did the Southport ghost walk about 15-20 years prior and were pleased to discover that the same woman who had just started it at the time of our first encounter was still leading the tour. Katie Stewart holds a degree in Antebellum Southern and North Carolina history and a long-time resident’s passion for the town’s old stories.
About midway through our stay at the beach, I was able to hang out with one of my favorite colleagues (in truth, I like all my colleagues), who was also on a family trip at the same time. When I told his wife we were doing a ghost walk, she was intrigued. Their family had been in Southport the day before. She told me that they visited an antique shop in the town, and she had felt a negative presence on the second floor of the shop. It was so strong that she had to leave. She confessed to being sensitive to paranormal activity, and that wasn’t the first such experience for her.
My Sabbath days are rarely boring. My wife Shira and I often have guests for Shabbat meals on Friday nights and Saturday lunches. And just about every Friday night, Shira and I play Scrabble, a board game that is perfect for Sabbath observers: no electricity and no writing (another Sabbath prohibition). How do we keep score? We each have a big fat book where we match our score with the page number. If you get forty points, you turn forty pages. (Shira usually wins.)
Inspired by a post by @Jonah on Micro.blog, I looked into the art of Daniel Matsui.
One of the images that captured my attention was the “INVENTION of the HOLY CROSS.”
The image came with some apocraphyal stories to which I have become accustomed in the Orthodox Church.
In the year AD 326, St. Helen, the mother of the emperor Constantine, travelled to Jerusalem to seek the True Cross. One of the scholars of the city knew its location: a hill upon which a temple dedicated to Venus had been built. This was a secret that had been passed down through his family since the time of the Passion. Helen had the temple razed and the ground excavated; there, three crosses were found. To distinguish the cross of Jesus Christ from the crosses of the two thieves, each was held over a corpse. The deceased came to life upon contact with the True Cross.
Matsui also includes an explanation of his rendering of particular elements.
I’ve long been a little allergic to brandishing symbols of my Christian faith. When I was a youth, I had a beloved cross that I used to wear around my neck. The chain for it was broken whilst I took a thrashing at the hands of a playground bully in the sixth grade. For many years afterward, I refrained from adorning myself with anything that reflected my beliefs.
