Fr Leo's visit to the EP

PERSONAL EXPERIENCE
AT THE ECUMENICAL PATRIARCHATE

by Presbyter Fr Leo Schefe,
Holy Transfiguration GOC,
Anchorage, Alaska

Back in 1998, Presbytera and I lived in Thessaloniki. I had been ordained as a presbyter there in 1996 and served as a priest of the Church of Greece for nearly three years. In 1998, the two of us, with some of our paréa, went on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. On Holy Saturday we were in the Holy Sepulchre Church at the site of Christ’s tomb. It was a great blessing to receive the holy light from the Orthodox Patriarch of Jerusalem, to be a personal witness to this recurring miracle which faithfully occurs in the Holy Sepulchre Church each year. This was truly an amazing experience and, although people have written about it over the centuries and in recent times submitted videos evidencing this miracle on the Internet, there is nothing that compares to being there in person.

As soon as I returned to Thessaloniki from the Holy Land, I made another pilgrimage, this time on my own. I was given the opportunity to serve as the “on duty” priest at the monastery of the Holy Trinity at the well known theological school on the island of Halki, which has been closed since 1971, a half-hour ferry ride from the city of Constantinople. It was my privilege to serve there for seven weeks.

I arrived during Bright week and left at Pentecost, thus it was my blessing to serve the Pentecostárion there. Before I left for Halki, I was advised that I should dress in “street clothes,” i.e., not in clerical clothing. The country of Turkey does not allow clerics to dress as clerics in public. For me, that meant no cassock or rasso. Way back then I still had a business suit tucked in the back of my closet at home, why I am not sure, but it came in handy for the trip and I made sure I was wearing it when I arrived in Turkey. After ordination, I had no use for the suit any longer, but inertia being what it is, I still had it. It was a good looking suit and it still fit. I will admit, though, that after two-plus years as a priest it felt very strange to be in a suit again and I looked rather odd wearing it with my very long hair and long beard. The locals on the island of Halki made sure I was aware that obedience to the country’s laws not be taken lightly. That is, if I were to be arrested for whatever reason, I could disappear and never be heard from again. There’s no habeas corpus there.

I learned I could relax the suit idea and instead wear simple black trousers and matching black long sleeved T-shirt with my black kondo (vest) instead. I gave the suit to a grateful young Armenian man who was employed at the defunct theological school at Halki. He related to me how he couldn’t keep a job in the city once his employers found out that he was a Christian. Sadly, this problem was not just his.

Once I shed the suit, I ended up looking the part of an eccentric hippy instead of an uncomfortable, out-of-place presbyter. A researcher I met at Halki suggested I looked akin to a 19th century Russian peasant.

His All-Holiness, Bartholomew, would visit the school regularly, often with guests. I had the privilege to meet with his All-Holiness several times. I found him personable and easy to communicate with. He was very warm and kind to me during my stay. As I related at the beginning of this article, there is nothing quite like experiencing things first hand. All during my stay, I learned of the plight of the Patriarch, the Ecumenical Patriarchate and the Orthodox Church in Turkey from those who had lived there all their lives. I learned of property confiscations, vandalism, personal threats and riots against Christians. It was disheartening and shocking to learn that just a few Christians live in Constantinople these days—Constantinople, the great Byzantine city. Countless numbers of Christians have been forced from their lives there.

The librarian on Halki, George, befriended me. He was a former tour guide and exceptional musician, although I cannot now remember the name of the mandolin-like instrument that was his favorite—it may have been the Oud. George received a blessing to take me on a tour of Constantinople.

Our first stop, of course, was the Church of Holy Wisdom—Agia Sophia. The scale of this church is immense and, once more, the personal experience is what communicates the grandeur, not to mention all the history and suffering that has taken place there since the fall of the city. I stood in awe of the beauty and could only imagine what it must have been like when the Emperor of Rome was present before the Ottomans stormed the city on May 29, 1453. Imagine the Patriarch, a dozen visiting bishops, a small army of priests, seven or so deacons and two full choirs, perhaps two dozen or more in each, choir members with topnotch skills, adding to this the Emperor with all his retinue; billowing clouds of incense and bells. We have a description of what the envoys from Vladimir, the prince of Kiev, saw when visiting Agia Sophia, their report noted that the worship struck them as though that they didn’t know if they were in heaven or on earth. Even in the current state of the Great Church, now held as a state museum, I could, in my mind’s eye, envision their wonderment.

George commented to me that it was against the law to pray in Agia Sophia. One can only guess how many silent, fervent prayers are offered there routinely.

I saw many beautiful and amazing sites in the city, but Agia Sophia always remains at the forefront of my mind. After the tour, George and I walked by the many shops that had been taken from Christians during some horrible uprisings against the Orthodox. It is because of these firsthand experiences that I do not hesitate for a moment to testify for the adoption of the Alaska Senate Joint Resolution 28 this Friday, March 26, at 1:30PM. I encourage as many who feel sympathy and concord with the Patriarchate as I do, to follow suit. You can read more details of human and religious rights violations against the Ecumenical Patriarchate at http://archons.org/.

The situation of the Patriarchate in Constantinople actually requires more than our sympathy, it requires our action as the continued existence of the Patriarchate is at stake. It is a sacred duty to speak in support of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. The Turkish government insists that it must approve of any new Patriarch and that candidate must be a Turkish citizen having served in the Turkish army. This cuts the field of candidates very thin indeed. How many unmarried Orthodox clergy can boast Turkish citizenship and military service?

As an aside, as I was leaving Constantinople by bus, I came across a twenty-something American couple who were leisurely traveling around the world. When I met them and we began to chat, I was attired in my “Russian peasant garb” and dark sunglasses. However, as soon as we crossed the Greek-Turkish border, I reached into my bag and pulled out my cassock and quickly attired myself properly. As is often the case with world travelers, we exchanged email addresses. Later, to my surprise, I read on their website that they had met a man who looked like a member of ZZ TOP and was suddenly transformed into an Orthodox priest before their very eyes. Now, I wonder who that might have been?