Vain Pursuits

Why do you increase your bonds? Take hold of your life before your light grows dark and you seek help and do not find it. This life has been given to you for repentance; do not waste it in vain pursuits.

St. Isaac the Syrian

Two funerals in three days rearranges your priorities. Especially when you have the privilege of being present when someone departs this life. Photini, who was diagnosed with liver cancer just a few months ago, died Sunday night while a few of us had gathered around her bed in her apartment to chant the Vespers service. Just as we were reading the prayer of St. Simeon,

Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy word; for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation which Thou hast prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for the revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to Thy people Israel (Lk 2:29-32)

Photini passed from this life to the next. It shook me to my core. Not just because she died, but because I knew that somehow that prayer had "released" her. I have no idea what I even mean by that - I'm much too sinful a person to comprehend such things. But I know what I say is true.

In the Orthodox tradition...at least the one I am being taught...death is dealt with by us rather than a so-called "professional." We satisfy the local authorities with the proper certificate of death, etc. but the "funeral industry" is not invited to participate. Photini's body was washed and dressed by a few women and she was carried out to the chapel and placed in her coffin by a few men while the priest led with a censor and we chanted, "Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal, have mercy on us." That is the "natural" thing to do because everyone who is Orthodox recognizes that the context of this particular hymn is the procession with the icon of the crucified Lord on Great and Holy Friday. As soon as she died, her son (who is an Orthodox Priest) read the service for the departure of the dead, followed by her god-daughter reading the Psalms over her body. Meanwhile, as her body was being washed and prepared, folks were called to take their turn reading Psalms in the Church with Photini in-between portions of the All-Night Vigil for the dead and the funeral which was held at 11am the next morning (yesterday).

After the funeral, we gathered upstairs to share food with each other and memories of Photini. Then we drove out to Goldendale Monastery where the nuns were waiting by the open grave. Photini's son, Fr. Leo, chanted the burial service along with the nuns while Photini's coffin was open and lying on two planks above the open grave. We lowered Photini into the grave and we each threw a shovelful of dirt on top of the coffin. The nuns finished up while we gathered at the Monastery to have some coffee, tea, and treats the nuns had prepared. We also spoke with the Abbess, through a translator, who remarked, "Photini is better off than any of us." She was well aware of Photini's struggles over the last few years - working like a slave as a maid at a local motel for the medical insurance for her husband (Joannis) who she came home to take care of day after day. The nuns had even visited Photini and Joannis with holy relics from the Monastery a little over a year ago, since Joannis was too ill to make the trip. None of us thought Photini would die before her husband, because she seemed to have boundless energy. But it seems God decided to reward His faithful handmaiden with an early retirement.

I've learned more theology in the last three days than I did in three years at Seminary. The difference? Love. The distillation of the Orthodox teaching on death contained in the hymns we sing at the funeral services in the context of a loving community that faces death together is a powerful pedagogy.