Featured
In 1274, the Pope and the Patriarch of Constantinople signed a historic reunion, but there were some formidable dissenters.
In 1261, the Roman Emperor Michael Palaeologos won his battered empire back from the Crusaders, but Charles, Count of Anjou, was eager to reconquer the East and bring its ‘schismatic’ Christians under the Pope. Michael instructed the Greek Church to give in and save his crown, but twenty-six monks of Mount Athos were more concerned with their consciences.
John’s enduring influence is evident today in the rich sights and sounds of Christian liturgy.
St John Damascene (676-749) was Syrian monk and a contemporary of our own St Bede, both of them highly respected scholars with a deep love for Church music. John left us an exposition of Christian theology of enduring importance throughout east and west; he compiled a wealth of hymns, collects and prayers; and he saved Christian iconography everywhere from the hands of extremists.
When the capital of the Roman Empire was in the grip of a violent earthquake, it fell to one small child to save all the people.
According to tradition, the Trisagion or Thrice-Holy Hymn was revealed by angels one September 24th during the tenure of Patriarch Proclus of Constantinople (434-446). Some thirty years later Peter, the abrasive Patriarch of Antioch and a former fuller by trade, took it upon himself to add an extra line. Three centuries after that John Damascene was still upset about it.
The politicians of Novgorod, angry at Moscow’s interference, thought they would teach her a lesson by selling out to Poland.
In 1471, even as England was being torn apart by the Wars of the Roses, the little republic of Novgorod was rent by its own bitter divisions. The meddling of upstart Moscow in their historic city had become insupportable, and many in the Veche, Novgorod’s civic Council, cried that independence could be achieved only by submission to the King of Poland.
Luka had netted a nice little haul of stolen coins and antiques, but he could not resist stripping down the historic Icon of the Sign too.
The ‘Virgin of the Sign’ is a twelfth-century icon of the Virgin Mary kept to this day in Great Novgorod, Russia — the ‘sign’ refers to the promise made by the prophet Isaiah to King Ahaz, that one day a virgin would conceive and bear a son. In 1170 the icon saved the city from a siege, and a special church was built for it, but it would seem that by the seventeenth century the mystique was beginning to wear off.
John Mansur, working in Islamic Syria, thought he could safely criticise the Roman Emperor for meddling in Christian worship. But he was wrong.
In 726, the Roman Emperor Leo III, seated in Constantinople (modern Istanbul), declared that images of Christ and his saints were ‘idolatrous’ and must be scrubbed from all church walls. The ban was sternly enforced, but there were rebels; and the outspoken John Mansur encouraged them with stirring pamphlets written from the safety of the Islamic court of Hisham ibn Abd al-Malik, Caliph of Damascus.
While the besieged citizens of Novgorod huddled for protection in the city gaol, Archbishop John remained in his cathedral to pray.
After the death of his father Yuri Dolgoruky, Prince of Kiev, in 1157, Andrey Bogolubsky, Prince of Vladimir, Rostov and Suzdal, began to pursue his dream of ruling all Rus’. He drove Prince Mstislav II from Kiev in 1169, and in February 1170 a little matter of unpaid tribute gave him an excuse to besiege Mstislav’s son Roman in the historic city of Veliky Novgorod.