{ maria, goddaughter of st porphyrios, invited our pilgrimage to his holy bedroom chamber }
Goddaughter of Saint Porphyrios
Saint Porphyrios baptized Maria, lived in her house for several years in his declining health, and performed miracles in their lives, especially in the life of her mother, Effie, with whom he was very close.
In our pilgrimage quest to follow in the footsteps of Saint Gavrilia, I received a rare introduction by Melanie Wolf, publisher of Sea Salt Books. She asked her godmother, Maria, to drive us to the monastery of Sister Philothei, who has written a new book about Saint Gavrilia, which will be published in English this fall. Along the way, Maria revealed that she was the goddaughter of Saint Porphyrios.
Maria told me,
“He was and is the Saint of Love. God's divine grace was so intense on him that there was no person who did not feel it. You usually felt a flutter in your heart, you felt like you were flying, an immense joy, an immense love. And when you looked into his eyes, you got lost in their blue color that was an immense sky, an immense sea, a calm.
I try to imagine him in my mind that he is next to me and watching over me. Listen to what he told us, you will call me and I will be next to you. You will not see me but you will feel me, because I will be there with the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Saint Porphyrios is another Saint of Love … another Theologian of Light, like Gavrilia and Amphilochios and John and Bishop Kallistos (not technically a saint yet ;) This spiritual lineage of Lovers of God is available to us. They remind us, "You will call me and I will be next to you." So let's not be shy … but call on the saints when we feel anxious, sad or overwhelmed, and they will give us strength. I feel this at times, when negative emotions strike. It can be challenging, but I am given strength to choose LOVE.
Don't Fight the Darkness
Elissa Bjeletich recently shared a quote from Saint Porphyrios that has helped to open up a new way of being in the world for me. He said,
“Do not fight to expel the darkness from the chamber of your soul. Instead open a tiny aperture for light to enter and the darkness will disappear”
Focus on the LIGHT. Speak of the LIGHT. Pray for the LIGHT. Read the Theologians of LIGHT. Dwell in the LIGHT.
Turn off the crush
Every day on pilgrimage I carry the world in my small handbag.
As I’m meandering down whitewashed cobblestone pathways through Greek villages, I'm constantly bombarded by urgent political demands via text, opportunities to acquire stuff I do not need on social media, and good causes that redouble their pleas even after I've donated, on my phone.
unsubscribe.
unsubscribe.
unsubscribe.
I can not be responsible for the whole world in my small handbag. My heart was not made for this. My mind has a choice whether to engage my soul in this crush of personal assault, or to redirect my soul toward growing that holy seed within me.
So I turn it off.
I can find world news updates on my own terms. Once or twice a week in a 3-minute google search or brief radio engagement.
Let the Light In
Whether they're selling politics, materialism or even good causes, I can let all of these salesmen take care of themselves. I'm sure that giving my 2-cents to these conversations is like dust in the wind. This disengagement makes no difference to the powers at work in the world, except in my own soul. For this I am responsible. And I can engage when I feel the holy nudge.
Leonard Cohen sang the words from his own complex perspective,
“There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in”
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Q: How can you redirect a problem in your life, with love?
Spark: Find a way to diminish the 'world in your handbag' … consider engaging in world events beyond your control only 3 minutes a week.
Resource: Wounded by Love: The Life and the Wisdom of Elder Porphyrios
wow, that's amazing, timothy. so funny how God (and saint gavrilia) make things happen sometimes. thanks for telling me!
The saint spoke of light through a tiny aperture, and I thought of all the cracks in my own life, the places where grace had slipped in unannounced, like a thief who leaves behind a gift instead of taking.
Jennifer, you write of darkness not as an enemy to be vanquished but as a space waiting for illumination. It’s a truth the mystics know too well… the ones who have pressed their foreheads against the cold floor of their own failures and found, in the surrender, a warmth they could not explain. Saint Porphyrios understood this. He did not rage against the night, he lit a candle. And isn’t that the harder thing? To trust that the light, however small, is enough?
The thought of Maria speaking of his eyes, blue like an endless sky, like a sea that doesn’t drown but carries. That is the paradox of the saints. They do not remove us from the world but teach us how to bear it. They do not fight the darkness, they make room for the light. And in doing so, they remind us that the weight of the world was never meant to be carried in a handbag.
Cohen was right, of course. The crack is where the light enters. But the mystics would add that the crack is also where we exit, where we slip out of ourselves and into something greater. Perhaps that is what it means to be wounded by love. Not to be spared the breaking, but to find, in the broken places, the presence of the divine.