47 Blog Post, Wednesday, October 23, 2024 “The Church at the Top of the World”
Today started with some laziness and sleeping in. My body needs both of those since I am not getting over whatever it is that I’ve got. But since it is also our last day in Athens, we had an agenda we wanted to meet. Alistair particularly wanted to see the Panathenaic Stadium which is the place where the first modern Olympic Games were held in 1896, and then again in 2004. It is the only stadium in the world built entirely of marble, however marble is very slippery when it gets worn down or when it gets wet, so as beautiful as it looks, I have mixed feelings about an entire stadium—floor, seating, even the bathrooms—being made entirely of white marble. This was also the first place where the official Olympic Hymn was heard (to hear it, go to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2AvP2RaLq4M ).
I have watched the Olympics since I was a child. Our lives virtually stopped when the Olympics came on TV and we lived vicariously through the successes and failures of the athletes we watched. Being in the stadium where 60,000 spectators watched athletes perform at the turn of the last century, a stadium which of course, was mostly empty except for tourists, was sort of haunting—in a good way, not a bad way, so perhaps that’s not a good word. But I kept thinking of St. Paul’s verses about running the race: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith,” Heb 12: 1-2. I know Alistair was especially moved to be in this particular stadium with its Olympic rings. We also toured the small museum that had the all the Olympic flame torches that are lit on Mt. Olympus in Greece, and then carried by runners to the opening ceremony in the host country, including torches that traveled to Lake Placid. (Editorial comment—if you happened to see France’s Olympic Torch performance this past summer, I don’t think they lived up to the responsibility of making it about the athletes and the honor. It was just weird!)
On the way to the next place on our list, we had to walk near the Parliament building in Athens and as we got closer we heard people shouting and a crowd responding. When we got closer, we saw thousands of people marching in a protest about fair wages for teachers (it’s not easy to get the info when you don’t speak or read the language, but we managed.) I loved Alistair’s comment: “From the place where democracy began, we are seeing democracy in action.”
From there we began our climb to the church at the top of the world, at least that’s what I called it, and that’s what it felt like. It was a mini-pilgrimage of sorts being as it was primarily a spiritual journey. My lungs weren’t really in good shape for this, but I persevered, and we rested when I needed to rest. Ultimately, we arrived at St. George of Lycabettus Orthodox church, a tiny church that stands as a beacon to the city of Athens. I entered into the cool, dark interior and, as is my practice, lit a candle for my two ‘prayer people’. The Orthodox Church uses pure beeswax candles that are tall and thin, and in this case, I stuck the candle in sand at the back of the church where it remained lit until it burned out later in the day.
I have always loved the candle tradition in the church, including the candle stand at St. John’s. Light, real light from a candle, reminds me of the Holy Spirit, reminds me of the beauty and power of God, reminds me of its opposite—darkness—and how much we have to work in our world to overcome darkness. Tiny candles are powerful witnesses to the ability of small things that make a big difference. My prayer was for small changes in the lives of the two folks I pray for regularly, small changes that may eventually make a big difference.
We are so fortunate that it is the low season in Athens, or we would be facing huge crowds everywhere we go, but that has never been the case since we’ve been here, We are grateful for what I would call PERFECT weather with warm, but not hot, temps. Tour guides told us terrible stories about people fainting in 115 degree heat during the summer, and one guide said that she would start her tours with 20 people, and only 10 would manage to finish. So if you are considering traveling to Greece or any of the Mediterranean countries, do so before June and after August.
At the very top of the mountain, just below the church, is a restaurant called the Sky Restaurant for obvious reasons. We stopped there for a while—once again, we benefited from the low season—and had yogurt with fruit and honey. The tiny grapes on the bowl looked like olives and were the sweetest grapes I’ve ever had. I had no idea what kind of grape they were.
From there, we let gravity take us back down the hill where we crossed by the Parliament Building where another crowd had gathered, only this time, we were able to witness the changing of the guards. That may not sound so exciting, but you cannot imagine the way these guards are dressed, and the way they have to walk! Literally this was the Ministry of Funny Walks come to life! I have appreciation for the training and strength required to walk in tandem the way the Greek soldiers did, with hobs on their shoes crashing own in unison, so it was both wonderful and absurd. These soldiers are the guards for the tomb of the Unknown Soldier which is right outside the Parliament Building. I think the most interesting part for me was when the guards were in place again, their commanding officer, who watched every bit of the ceremony, went over to each guard afterward and straightened each man’s uniform, untangled the tassel on their hats and mopped the sweat from their faces since the guards were not permitted to move once they were in place. Obedience, ceremony, strength.
Finally it was time to head back to the apartment since we leave tomorrow morning for Naxos, the largest of the Cycladic islands in the Aegean Sea, but we decided to check out the source of the amazing bread smell from last night. It came from the second story kitchen of the restaurant on the corner, La Nonna, which is basically right next door to us. We decided to have our last Athens meal there and it was delicious. Fresh dough, fresh veggies and cheese. Back at the apartment, Alistair said something else that was amazing to think about: this time next week we will be on our way home. Wow.
On September 2nd, as we left, the time seemed endless ahead of us, and the adventures exciting but also overwhelming. Alistair asked me the most unusual question today—when have I experienced culture shock on this trip? And my answer was: not at all, which surprised me. We’ve both been flexible, curious and adventurous, even with the past three weeks of my illness. We simply decided to keep going forward, to look around the next corner, to take the next step, taste a new food, enter the quietness of an ancient church. And with every step, every taste, every prayer, I have felt part of a global family in a new way. The world seems both bigger and smaller at the same time, as strange as that sounds, from the cathedrals in Siena and Florence to the perfect cup of coffee at our local coffee shop here in Athens, the Joshua Tree. A Joshua tree, for those who don’t know about them, is a symbol of faith, hope and resilience because it is a tree that survives amidst the most adverse conditions. A good symbol as we near the end of our travels.
I ask your continued prayers that I am able to heal from this illness. It tires me out and I spend way too much time coughing in public, something that makes people move away from me as they give me The Look. Ever since Covid, public coughing is always suspicious, isn’t it? My hope is that this illness gets sort of baked out of me on the islands we will visit in the next week. Warm sun and healing water. Sounds nourishing to me.
What does God need to heal in your life and body these days?
Blessings and grace,
ML+
