Over and Under

This morning we set out from Monastiri Guest House, took the path that the local neighbors have created to shortcut across the train tracks, and hiked uphill into town. This has nothing to do with ascending the cliffs of Meteora; just getting to the central circle of Kalambaka, and the line of available taxis is quite a hike! This is made even more so, when the slightly directionally-challenged leader selects a street which angles away from the center of town.

We squeezed into a taxi for the ride around to the back side of the cliffs and the drop off point for St. Stefanos (Stephen’s) Nunnery. The good news is that there are absolutely no steps to climb for this nunnery! The bad news is that this makes it very popular with tourists who don’t like to climb steps! We entered just before a group and managed to have a peaceful visit to the Church and gardens before they descended.

The temperature outside necessitates wearing shorts and t-shirts. The guidelines for modesty require calf-length skirts. Hence, the monasteries and nunneries have a supply of wrap around skirts for women to put on when entering the community. Our family borrowed some nice, navy blue and black-patterned skirts for our visit.

 The gardens at St. Stefanos are well kept, and include a variety of flowers and plants. Many of them bloom just as beautifully in our South Carolina climate.

There is a well with a bucket in the center of one of the gardens. There is also a corridor along one edge of the perimeter with an icon of the Blessed Virgin Mary written into a small covered space and a cross at the corner.

 A small chapel stands at another corner of the property, fronted by a rose garden and a cedar tree that provides beautiful shade from the mid-day heat.

In one of the covered hallways, there were a couple of icons written onto the wall. One was of St. Michael the Archangel. The other icon includes the Blessed Virgin Mary and a group of women. My Greek vocabulary has slipped to the point that I will need to look up some of the words describing this scene in order to have a complete understanding of the image.

Photos and videos were strictly prohibited within the Church and the museum. I did take a picture of the wooden board, which is swung into the column as a call to worship. This, rather than a bell, imitates the Scriptural reference to Noah, who in obedience to God’s command, made a signal using a plank of wood to call the animals into the safety of the ark. Likewise, the sisters are called into the safety of the ‘New Holy Ark,’ Christ’s Church, for worship.

Nearly every square inch of the narthex, nave, and sanctuary of the worship space was covered in iconography. There were images of Bible stories to take away the breath of any teacher who has sought to bring these stories to life for students. There were also images from the Christian Tradition of saints—and especially martyrs—who devoted themselves to Christ and his Church. St. Stephen, of course, was one of the first martyrs (maybe the first according to Holy Scripture). In the central dome, larger than life size, was—of course—the classic icon of Christ Pantokrator, or Christ, ruler of all.

We sat in the nun’s wooden stalls which lined the perimeter of the Church. The sweet smell of hundreds of years of incense was noticeable, even though none was burning at the time we were there. A gentle breeze passed through a couple of open windows. It was peacefully quiet for a few moments as we rested in the presence of a sacred space.

One of the things about visiting a Byzantine Church or Chapel is that you know you have been to Church. The plethora of symbols and sights, sounds, and smells all combine to shape an experience of the Holy.  And, one only need to look up to see who presides over the holiness of it all.

The museum contained an impressive variety of manuscripts, vestments, and other worship-related objects. There was a 6^th century page from Holy Scripture, as well as transcriptions—ostensibly completed by monastics hundreds of years ago in this community. There were prayer books dating to the 16^th century with illuminated paintings on the pages to which they were opened. The museum also had a display of letters, including a 10^th century handwritten letter from the Bishop of Jerusalem. Another medieval letter had a cord that must have wrapped around the parchment and secured the document with a seal.

Silver chalices, thuribles (for incense), asperges (for Holy Water), and crosses with minute carvings—both in wood and in silver—filled other glass cases. In another room were chasubles and stoles worn by priests that were hundreds of years old, with embroidered detail that was beautiful. It did appear that the stoles were made in such a way that the two hanging ends came together as one—either with a small cut out, to slip it over one’s head, or with buttons so as to ‘button up’ the two halves, so that they hung centrally down from the neck across the priest’s torso.

Leaving St. Stefanos, we had quite a view of Kalambaka. Ultimately, we walked all the way down a pathway that led back into town, but, first, we trekked to the Holy Trinity Monastery. Our hotelier informed us that it was 300 meters along the road, then 150 steps down, and then 150 steps back up. I am thinking she may have lost her count somewhere in her map-making, but it was still very much worth the walk!