Small Pascha in Venice
This year for the Feast of the Dormition of Panagia, 15th of August, we went to celebrate the Liturgy in Venice at San Giorgio dei Greci. Saint George’s Greek church is the oldest Greek Orthodox church in the Western world. Built in 1567, it houses a significant amount of icons by the Cretan iconographer Michael Damaskinos, one of the most important masters of the Cretan school.
The images are clearly a mix of Eastern and Western iconography, with the Eastern canonical poses of the figures, the drapery, the symbology, yet they quietly possess the detail and lightness of Western Renaissance mastery. A perfect example of how two traditions merged in time, on the same common ground, to become something unique, graceful and somehow more tangible and timeless.
The service was held mainly in Italian and Greek, with the inclusion of also Slavic and Romanian, which mirrored the richness of the icons linguistically. As the residential place of the Greek Orthodox Metropolitan of Italy, Polycarpos, the liturgy was celebrated by him and at the end of the service, he held a brief sermon, just a few words really, but of great significance, about the festivity. He referred to it as the “Small Pascha”, according to tradition, which celebrates Panagia’s ascension in heaven, defining her as the bridge that connects us to Christ. Being of human lineage and at the same time His mother, she’s the strongest intermediary between mankind and God, thus interceding on our behalf through our prayers.
It made me ponder on how the meaning of “small” is relative in this case. It doesn’t define the grade of importance but rather assumes a more human dimension, a comforting reminder. A small house, a small child, a small gift, a small church, a small meal. Don’t all these bring about a feeling of coziness and appreciation? A small mistake, a small misunderstanding, a small problem. Even when paired with what may have a negative connotation, or at least a concept that doesn’t carry a notion of comfort or ease on its own, doesn’t “small” grant it the form of relief and consolation?
This is how small Pascha feels, comforting: the greatest mother of all, yet a human mother who, in her time, faced both the joys and sorrows that motherhood brings, becomes our mother too, always ready to listen to our joys and sorrows.