From The Blog

Monthly Meditation – April 2010


Silouan of Mt. Athos

The awaited has arrived! When the old patriarch sang “Christ is Risen” the heavy stone was lifted from our souls. We felt like bodiless spirits. Like we were resurrected! Suddenly, thunderous voices of nations and tribes roared, like the sound of many waters, down by the Sepulcher, up by Golgotha, in galleries, on the pillars, on the beams of the iconostas, in window frames. Wherever there was room for a human head, a whole man squeezed into it. By these exclamations, our brothers from Asia and Africa expressed their joy. It was a strange sight for Europeans, but such are the people of the East. Pain to the point of ecstasy and joy to the point of ecstasy. During Holy Week, they sobbed out loud around the Sepulcher of the Lord, kissing the tomb, touched it with their faces and their hands, beat their chest, mourned, and lo this morning—roaring and shouts of joy. Like children—sincere and without reservations. Did not the Lord promise the Heavenly Kingdom to the children? I heard a Copt say about Europeans, “They know how to laugh, but not how to rejoice.” The joy of easterners is without laughter, especially the higher, spiritual joy.

Let God arise and let His enemies be scattered, says the patriarch. Hristos Anesti, Christ is Risen—the Greeks sing. The Tomb is transformed into paradise, a torture chamber into the palace of joy. We hold candles in our hands, but our souls are brighter than candles.

Hristos Voskrese—Russians sing. Beautifully and with compunction, soft like silk, like only Russians can. But in this hour, in this place, even the ugliest singing seems nice. Yes, and the ugliest face seems beautiful. The light and joy of the resurrection changes everything, transforms everything—voices, faces, things. Everything around us is beautiful, clean, holy, heavenly.

Christ is Risen—the Arabs sing, clapping their hands and dancing with their feet. Tears pour down their faces and glow from the thousand lights of candles from all sides. The expression of sadness is put into the service of joy. How great is the human soul in its sincerity! There is nothing greater other than God and His Angels!

Christ is Risen—sung by Serbs, Copts, Armenians, Bulgarians, Abyssinians, Blacks, one after another, each in his language and in his tone. But they all sing nicely. I tell you, all the people around us look beautiful and good. The black sons and daughters of Africa—all beautiful and good like Angels. It is a miracle that only the Resurrected Lord can perform. This is the only true foundation of brotherhood among people—seeing all people as good and beautiful.

After all the languages had their turn in singing of the tropar, the procession around the Holy Sepulcher started. Asians with their fezzes and Africans with their covers sang some song of theirs giving it the rhythm by clapping and beating: One faith is true The Orthodox Faith

And then the canon and the Liturgy. But all the readings and singing are overcome by one and the same victorious song—Christ is Risen from the dead!

At dawn, the Paschal service finishes in the church but continues in our souls. We started seeing everything in the light of Christ's Paschal glory, and everything looked different than yesterday. Everything is more beautiful, more sensible, more glorious. Only in that light of the Resurrection does life have meaning.

At noon, Antipascha is served – a glorious procession through the Holy City and the reading of the Gospel in many languages. After that, we watched how Arabs play with swords and carry the patriarch on their hands.

We felt like going down to the Russian church of Saint Mary Magdalene in Gethsemane. And we were invited by the kind Russian sisters. So we walked down the Via Dolorosa again. But behold, it was different now, radiant, beautiful! The soul was at such ease. Victory has swallowed death, and along with it the torments and the sufferings. Nothing else is seen from the bright light of the Resurrection.

Truly, truly Christ is risen!