These are sad times: I have just lost my batzanakis. This term is usually applied only to
men: brothers-in-law who have married into the same family through marrying
sisters. Petros, H’s sister’s husband, from the start dubbed me his batzanakis, ignoring the gender anomaly
involved, as he wanted to mark the special relationship we had together. A family man to the core, here he is proudly
holding his first grandson, Christos, after the baptism ceremony.
Petros left us suddenly, without much warning and so it was
with great sadness last Friday we met at the church to send him on his
way. Since we are in Holy Week and today
commemorating the death of Christ with the Epitaphios Threnos, or the
Lamentation at the Grave ceremony, it seems fitting to describe what a funeral
is like here in Greece.
As is often the case, in countries with hot climates, the
burial will take place quickly - generally within 24 to 48 hours - after the
demise. The funeral service begins
when the church bells ring, calling the mourners together. The chief mourners
sit up front while the others are seated in the main area of the church. Pallbearers
bring in the casket, placing it to face the altar.
The casket is
generally open with an icon placed on the chest of the deceased and flowers
laid round about. To some, unused to such a practice, this may seem macabre. I
must admit, however, I have come to see having the casket open as a thing of
great consolation: one sees the beloved person at peace, one sees the dignity
of death in repose, one is afforded the opportunity to give one last kiss,
fondly lay flowers, say that last farewell.
After the specific ceremonial hymns and psalms have been sung
or recited, it is then that the mourners have that last chance to take their
leave of the deceased, leaving the priest then to anoint the body in the sign
of the cross with oil and soil before the casket is closed.
The procession of
mourners heads to the cemetery where they congregate round the grave-side.
There, after further prayers and hymns are recited, they are invited to cast
flowers and soil into the grave which, by tradition, faces east. Immediately
after that they will come together at the table to share a brandy, coffee and biscuits
or perhaps even a meal.
Further memorial
services will take place three, nine and forty days after the death. Why
are these numbers important? This is where the story diverges but is,
nonetheless, of great interest. At our service the priest explained that they symbolized, in order, the Holy Trinity,
the nine angels – presumably the nine categories in the hierarchy of angels - and
the forty-day period, as outlined in the New Testament, between the resurrection
and ascension of Jesus.
St. Macarius of
Alexandria was said to
have been informed by an angel that for three days the soul is permitted to
wander the earth, accompanied by angels; on the third day the soul meets his
guardian angel and is brought to heaven to do reverence to God. For six days it is allowed to behold the
beauty there and on the ninth day, it reveres God once more. Then for thirty
days the soul is conducted to hell. On the fortieth day the soul returns to God
and it is then that judgement is passed as to where it is to take up eternal residence.
Interestingly Jewish tradition holds a mourning period of thirty days and
Muslims of forty days. Many Orthodox
Christians also believe that the soul does not completely sever its earthly
connections until after the fortieth day - which is a comfort to think the
leaving is not so abrupt.
What must be noted is that the body was anointed by soil: the
Orthodox Church preaches the ‘dust to dust’ but not the ‘ashes to ashes’ bit –
it does not countenance cremation. Ioannis
Boutaris, as Mayor of Thessaloniki, stated his commitment to constructing a
crematorium in Thessaloniki to
accommodate the wishes of those who choose thus to go. This has been blocked by the Church – quite
illogically given that, with city cemeteries overflowing, it has become the
norm to exhume the remains of the dead and have them placed in an ossuary. So
in essence the graves are leased for a certain period of time – the minimum is
for four years - in order that they can recycle
cemetery space. I cannot imagine anyone finding this an acceptable
situation.
On learning at the age of nine of my father’s death, I was
told he had been taken to heaven by Jesus. Now if you want to turn a good, God-fearing
child into one who resents such divine authority and who resolutely refuses to
enter a church – then that is the tale to tell. In addition, my over-fertile imagination
conjured up dreadful and regular dream-sequence scenarios as to what went on in
that coffin. I decided very early on in life that I did not want to be
interred.
When H and I married we opted for a civil ceremony: not being
able to follow the High Greek ceremonial language, I felt it would be
disrespectful of me to ‘use’ the church to obtain a document to formalize wedlock.
But there’s the rub: given that H was not married in church, there are some
priests who would refuse to conduct a burial service for him.
So where
does that leave us? I cannot be cremated and H cannot be buried : that has to
be up there as one of the best St. Peter plea-bargains yet for immortality!
Petros’ funeral was held in a small church where the
atmosphere was intimate and personal; it was comforting. The presiding priest
was an eloquent speaker yet was able to explain simply and clearly the meaning
of the service elements.
Petros was a larger-than-life
character whose presence filled the room at every family get-together.
I think
those tulips, now blooming in our garden, reflect the warmth and vibrancy of
his nature.
Batzanaki mou, kalo taxidi – we will miss you greatly and you will live on in our hearts.
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