Collector of Names

Collector of Names

I want to share with you an incident that I experienced some days ago when I was in Athens for a while.

My father is in Patisia. As I returned from the airport to the house, I chose to walk to Athens on Patission Avenue. I have to say that although I lived 6 years in the beloved city Lemnos coming from Athens I can not easily adapt though I have lived in other parts of the province before. 
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So, while I was walking, a gentleman comes in a miserable state (apparently homeless and afflicted). He asked me very kindly and with great devotion to give him some money. I give him something and when he thanked me he asked me a great favor. He tells me "My name is Vassiliki, my father left for heaven three days ago and needs prayer."

And this is one of the incidents. Every time I go to Athens, I turn around with a block of names from simple people who are suddenly approaching me and telling me to write a loved one's name down who has a problem and needs help.

These are the priests, the guys in black. Like a fly in milk within the modern and technological world but their presence smells of heaven and heaven. The robe, this blessed testimony showing the direction to the sky. No matter how many years we spend wherever technology and science reach, the robe will show us the Way of heaven and Paradise.

This blessed kiss, which we do not just guard the hand of the this particular man, but we grasp the hands that grasp Christ, an entire apostolic succession, a historic blessed and sanctified liturgy that comes from the depths of the creation of the Church. From our Lord Himself ...

My dear, when you see a priest on the road, in the super market, anywhere, your heart is filled with joy. It is not the presence of a simple person, but in this simple priest's face lies the entire Pentecost. These blessed hands which the priest lends to God and He comes as a person with the grace of the Holy Spirit and sanctifies everything. And the priest always with the greeting "Bless father" to give grace to the blessing not of his own, but of the Lord, for from there everything originates.

This blessed black robe, which has more light even then the sun itself.

Author: Priest Spyridon Skoutis