During our travel from Meteora through the Greek Alps, we had occasion to stop at a rest stop to use the facilities (rest stop facilities, in case you are wondering, are more or less the same in the Western World). During our stop two vans pulled up to use the same facilities. After listening for a few minutes, our tour guide told us they were likely Ukrainians on a pilgrimage to visit the relics of St. Spyridon of Corfu.
It was an interesting note and one that I filed away under the "interesting but fairly useless fact “ file - until I was reminded of it again when we were on the ferry and sure enough, there were our fellow rest stop travelers.
St. Spyridon (for those of you who, like I, have a vague if any knowledge of the major Saints, let alone the lesser well known ones) lived from approximately 270 to 348 A.D. Born in Cyprus, he was a shepherd who eventually joined the church, rising to the office of bishop. He was a participant in the First Ecumenical Council of Nicea (from which we get The Nicene Creed) as an opponent of the Arians. During his time there, he was reported to have converted a pagan philosopher to Christianity by using a shard of pottery to demonstrate how a thing could be composed of three different entities (earth, water, fire) and yet be one (like the Triune God). The shard supposedly dissolved into its three elements upon this, the philosopher was converted, and Spyridon is now always shown with pottery or a brick with flame in his hand.
After the conquest of Cyprus by the during the 7th Century A.D., the body of Spyridon was exhumed and found to be incorrupt, thus establishing his holiness and sainthood. The body was taken to Constantinople where it was kept until 1453 A.D. when that city fell. It was then transported in turn to Corfu, where it has remained. Spyridon is the patron saint of potters, the island of Corfu, and the Greek city of Piraeus.
In keeping with the architecture of Corfu City, the church itself is fairly unremarkable: a squat building painted yellow in keeping with the other buildings, a taller bell tower the only indication of its heightened stature
We passed by the church the first time but found that service was in session and after a very brief look through the side door, went on our way. Returning later in the day, we found the parishioners were gone - but there was a line of people to one side of the altar. The crypt of St. Spyridon was open for viewing.
I have seen a number of relics over the years: the arm of St. Stephen in Hungary, the full on body of St. Mundita in Munich, and even on this trip the reliquaries of St. Demetrius in Thessalonniki. But all of these were sort of "open viewing", where one simply walked up and viewed the relic. Not what this appeared to be: a controlled entry.
I looked, and then started to sit down - it is one thing to view a thing, quite another to do it as part of a group about which you may or may not know the correct way to act (interestingly on this point, it seems to be a Christian thing; Buddhist and Shinto temples have always very much had the attitude of "come on in" when I have visited them. I never felt nervous in the same way). Then The Ravishing Mrs. TB made a solid point: You came halfway across the world and you are not going to do this?
I got in line.
The line shuffled slowly, the doorway of the crypt becoming more visible. Inside were two priests, chanting something (Greek? Ukrainian? I had no idea). As I continued to close in, one could see the practice: bow and kiss the foot of the coffin, move to the front, and then bow and kiss the head of the coffin. I continued to shuffle forward, feeling the slightest bit of unease for no other reason that I might get something wrong.
I entered the crypt - which was filled with not just a casket, but a silver casket packed into a room that seemed a bit above an oversized closet (as it turns out, there is a wooden casket inside the outer one). The doors of the head and foot of the casket were open - there was not just relics of the saint, but the full saint himself. His feet - now exposed to me - had red velvet slippers and were completely open to the air while his face and head were behind a plexiglass sheet.
Ah. They were not just bowing. They were bowing and kissing the actual slippers and then close to (or on) the plexiglass sheet.
I suspect in the moment I entered it was clear to both of the priests and myself that I was not from around there originally, if the look they exchanged between each other meant anything. That said, they did nothing but watch as I approached the coffin - alert, I would guess, if I did anything that reeked of disrespect.
I bowed at the feet and came close to the slippers (but not touching them at all. I have a thing about dead people), then moved to the head. The face of St. Spyridon, gone these 1800 years, looked up at me. I bowed; St. Spyridon remained expressionless as his mortal body has these many long years. With that, I exited the crypt.
I would like to tell you that there was some great revelation I had, some sign that the saint (and yes, I do believe that Spyridon is in Heaven and that perhaps I will meet him) actually noticed I was by. Sadly, nothing like that occurred. We continued on our tour, the parishioners continued their reverence, and the world moved on.
In 1716 A.D., the Ottoman Turks besieged Corfu as part of their campaign against the Venetian Empire. During this siege, a storm broke out which impacted fleets both Christian and Ottoman, although the Ottoman's had the worst of it. During the siege as well, Corfiotes (inhabitants of Corfu) alleged they saw St. Spyridon himself on the city walls, a monk threatening the Ottomans with a torch.
So perhaps Spyridon is there, waiting for my own siege - mental or spiritual - to manifest itself so that he might appear, torch in hand, driving off the invaders of my own making.
The Ravishing Mrs. TB made a good point all right, how many chances do you have to see a Saint? Thanks for sharing this post TB.
ReplyDeleteYou are welcome, Nylon12.
DeleteHonestly, I am glad I did. It was imbued with a certain decorum that is usually absent for such things.
What a coincidence, just a few days ago, I watched a PBS documentary on the research going on of the recently discovered remains of the church they believe held the First Ecumenical Council of Nicea off the shore of Iznik, Turkey.
ReplyDeleteMany years ago, I read a wonderful book on the bodies of the Saints that detailed their deaths and the journeys of their bodies afterwards. The only problem is that the name of all the saints just kind of blended together so I don't remember much of the details of what happened to whose body anymore.
Ed, not being Catholic or Orthodox I am amazed at the number of saints that are in both traditions - and yes, there are multiple saints with the same name. I had never heard of Spyridon until our visit.
DeleteWell, I confess that it would feel a bit creepy to participate as you describe if one isn't Orthodox. Still, it sounds like you now have a memorable experience!
ReplyDeleteIt was, Leigh. Which is odd to me - I have been in Shinto Shrines and Buddhist Temples before and they are always pretty much "Come on in!" - but the same level of respect for the service is present.
DeleteI do hope the priests had a good laugh about me after the fact.
Do you know how often they open the crypt?
ReplyDeleteMy husband went in there with a greek friend who was translating for us (we were getting married in Corfu in July 1998 and getting documents in corfu town and so looked in the church) and as they went in, they shut the doors and opened the crypt.
He told me the friend told him to copy her, but as he bent down to kiss his feet the priest shoved his head further down so he had to kiss him properly!
The friend said she'd never seen a tourist allowed in when his body was on display.
Whatever...we're still married, so hopefully he was blessed !!
Jo - I have no idea how often it is opened. I think it was mostly dumb luck (or divine fate) that it happened when we did.
DeleteInteresting that your friend commented she had not seen a tourist allowed in before. As it was noted that there were Ukrainian pilgrims on the way, perhaps it was assumed that other people would be there. I did note that they thrust down the head of the boy to kiss his feet properly. I also noted that the priests gave a side eye to each other as I came in - but no contact; maybe I got low enough.
Congratulations on 25 years of marriage and thanks for stopping by!