Just as Theologia said, the church bells all over the island rang in unison in the early morning. Today begins The Dormition of the Mother of God, or Orthodox Assumption. It celebrates the passing of Mary and her ascension to heaven. One distinct difference between Orthodox and Catholic liturgy is that in Orthodoxy, Mary is believed to have died a mortal death and her soul to have ascended and been received by her son whereas in Catholicism, she is bodily ascended, possibly while alive.
However she ascended, the Greek Orthodox churches on Patmos hold two sets of five hour services that follow the same basic structure as Orthodox Easter – one in the morning and another in the evening. The evening service takes place in Hora at the Monastery of St. John.
According to Theologia, the owner of the Proton Supermarket, most people don't attend all five hours of the service, but instead view the long service as an opportunity for people to come when they're able, light a candle and say their prayers.
"It's a beautiful service! Absolutely beautiful!" Theologia explained to a group of foreigners in the store.
For most summer visitors, these beautiful services and traditions happen in the background – something the locals do. Yet they are a defining element of Patmos, which I've come to increasingly understand.
As I was checking out of Proton, Theologia looked at my cheap bottle of olive oil and asked, "Are you sure this is the olive oil you want?"
"I don't know, it sounds like maybe I don't….?"
"Well, it doesn't taste very good cold – like for salads."
"I chose the cheap one because it's for cooking only."
"You still don't want this…."
"I'll go with whatever you recommend."
She left her checkstand and returned with the bottle of olive oil I really wanted. It cost a little more, but she assured me it would be good cold or for cooking and a much better quality.
"This one is from Samos – it's very good quality."
"So it's local? I like Samos – I've been a couple of times. But as beautiful and nice as it is, it just never feels right. The first time I went with my ex, we were so sad for days because it wasn't Patmos. Which was unfair because it is such a beautiful island and lovely place. It's just not Patmos."
Theologia's eyes widened, then grew intense.
"No, it's not like Patmos, is it? Nowhere is quite like Patmos. Patmos is very special – it has a very particular feel. The more you spend time here, the more you realize it."
Obviously, the St. John story – the writing of Revelations here – gives Patmos the status of a holy island. The monastery, cave and several special churches help formalize a common understanding around a certain Patmian mysticism.
I've come to see it slightly differently. I believe like several places, Patmos has a certain spiritual energy – a more amplified wavelength in the connection to the divine. There are sites around the world where people feel this. Maybe they feel connection because of a story (the second temple stood here, Mohammad lived here, the Buddha died here…) or maybe the story helps explain the phenomena in a context that made or makes sense to the culture or people at the location? Or maybe there are examples of both?
To me, Bali is a very spiritual place. There's an energy that's palpable. It didn't entice me into Balinese Hinduism nor did it fit specifically with anything in Jewish liturgy since none of the Torah, Talmud or Kabbalah seem to even imagine the existence of Bali. However, it does seem to me that in a sense, God is especially accessible in Bali – the divine is more within reach. As I've written many times before, the Balinese pull the divine down from the heavens and live with divinity in their world.
Greek Orthodoxy, on the other hand, like all of Christianity is a transcendental religion focused more on ascending to the divine than bringing it down to earth. To the degree that living with the divine in your heart and consciousness goes, there's not much of a practical difference. Patmians – at least those who are either religious or sensitive to spiritual energy go – seem to have a feeling they live somewhere special.
All of this to say while I don't have any attachment to Greek Orthodoxy – or any Orthodoxy, or Christianity of any flavor for that matter – I agree there is something special on Patmos. From March to May 2022, the island took me in during a moment of need and gave me not just physical – but emotional and spiritual shelter. I may have been able to find that elsewhere, but not just anywhere. Patmos offers that. And I'm deeply grateful.
Maria – an Athenian – from whom I bought the house here firmly believes in the spiritual power of Patmos. She has deep sadness no longer spending her summers here, in part because of times gone by, but in part because of the energy she took from the island. When we first met and she showed me the house, I told Maria my situation – that I was on a trial separation and was hoping to go home and find a path forward with my wife. It would be highly unlikely my wife would go for buying a house on Patmos, so. if things worked out as I wanted, Maria probably wouldn't have a buyer. However, if it went the other way, I could see getting the house.
Maria – who is very spiritual and whom I immediately connected with – cocked her head a little, looked at me and told me the house would be a good place for my kids and I to heal. Patmos is a healing place, she explained and she could see us doing well in this house. One might consider it a masterful sales job if only Maria wanted to sell. Her husband was pushing to sell and for the most part, she was either passive or mildly undermining his efforts including doing nothing about the horrific photos he put in their listing. The sale was practical, but nothing she wanted.
Maria has turned out to be very right. This house has been very good both for me – and us. Partly because of the extended time we have together – five weeks – and the remoteness from our usual life, but also because of what it is – our house on Patmos has been the place we feel the most like "us". We get into our rhythm – we have our family. We are the most whole and intact of any other time and place.
Perhaps that's why this morning Sennen sat on the sofa and cried after I mentioned tonight will be our last night on Patmos and we should do some packing and organizing.
"I don't want to leave. I'm staying. You guys can go, but I'm staying. Besides, if I stay, you'll stay (pointing at me), so it'll just be Ailyn who goes," Sennen said tears pouring down his face. Ailyn offered three more weeks, but said she really does want to get back to school, family and friends.
Long story short – Sennen likes being here, doesn't want to start school and as a compromise position, plans to go home and campaign for his family and friends to move to Patmos. It was as good as I could get during an emotional crisis in one morning.
In any case, the kids are not interested in checking out the service in Hora tonight. In fact, Sennen has not wanted to go up to Hora at all this trip, except to see the Skyrian horses, which we had to miss due to illness. Hora is boring and creepy, he feels – which isn't terribly different than some of Michelle's feelings (more to the creepy side). There is something going on up there spiritually….
We're spending the day on Kampos Beach – not only a favorite of the kids, but one of the easier to get a good chair during this busy time. Here at the beach, it feels like any other day. Tomorrow we'll have the entire day until we depart on Blue Star 2 at 12:15 am ( technically Friday morning). We'll have one more shot at a great beach day and a special dinner before we leave Patmos behind for the summer. Luckily, as Ailyn pointed out this morning, "We still get to come back next year – so it's not the end."
No, it's not. It's will just be the end of this Patmos chapter – with more to come.
