Last Sunday I went to the interesting little Church of St. Constantine and Helen in Glyfada. Its a round stone church surrounded by 4 half-domes. Its a design that was popular in pre-Byzantine times but that Greek Orthodox don't see it too often today. The Ottomans like it and have built many mosques like it --the Blue Mosque is the most beautiful and the most famous. Leonardo Da Vinci drew numerous buildings like it.
The priest gave a very practical sermon. A very simple and down to earth talk and thus a spiritual one. He tried not to put obstacles in the paths of people who want to live better lives.
If they can sell all their good and give the proceeds to the poor and then dedicate themselves to a totally philanthropic or monsastic life, that is a great spiritual achievement, the complete control of the ego. For those who can't do that with sincerity and without regret, i.e. 99.99% of humanity, he encourages them who can to give away half their wealth. If not half, one quarter or lesser amounts-- but something. If they cant part with any material possessions, let them help the weak or unfortunate in other ways. If they are not willing ot help others, let them refrain from harming others. That will satisfy Christ and save their souls and make the world a better place. Amen
- Constantine
- New York, New York, United States
- You can find anything and everything in Constantinople
An Amerikanaki in Athens --2008 Trip to Greece
Baby Blog: Pictures, Images & Poems (click here)
Great Blogs & Sites
http://Johnmetaxas.com Excellent blog on Greek matters
Outrageous Books, Sensational Music, Awesome Art
Julian Barbour's "The End of Time". He says time is an Illusion. The book is hard but he might be right. http://www.platonia.com
Bulgakov's "The Master and Margarita"
Bach's Chaconne in D Minor BWV 1004 (Orig. Violin AND the Busoni Piano transcription!)
Tartini's Sonata in G minor
Our Lady of Vladimir-- Icon from Constantinople, 12th c.
Our Lady of Vladimir
Current Comments 3/5/2008
...and the Truth shall set you free
Jesus Christ
Jesus Christ
The Sublime
From the facing page of Thomas Wolfe's
"Look Homeward Angel"
...a stone, a leaf, and unfound door; of a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.
Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh have we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.
Which of us has known his brother? which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us has not remained forever a stranger and alone?
A waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost among bright stars on this most weary unbright cinder, lost!
Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?
O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again
A Dream Within A Dream
By Edgar Allen Poe
Take this kiss upon thy brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow—You are not wrong, to deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand—How few!
Yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep—while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! Can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
"Look Homeward Angel"
...a stone, a leaf, and unfound door; of a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.
Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh have we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.
Which of us has known his brother? which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us has not remained forever a stranger and alone?
A waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost among bright stars on this most weary unbright cinder, lost!
Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?
O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again
A Dream Within A Dream
By Edgar Allen Poe
Take this kiss upon thy brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow—You are not wrong, to deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand—How few!
Yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep—while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! Can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
