|
|
Home || Ministries & Organizations || Our History || Calendar || Contact Us || Donations Fr. Anthony Bio [Home] || -->Go to Chapter 2
Autobiography of Father Anthony Kosturos
I felt the calling to the priesthood when I was twelve years old. The primary source for this inspiration was our Lord. The human originator of inspiration was my dear mother. She was religious and a regular church-goer. She stressed the importance of remaining true to our Greek Orthodox Faith. She liked to chant when at home or on an excursion while my father drove the car. She enjoyed this, and she had sound familiarity with the main hymns of the Church. The second human source for awareness of my desire to become a priest were nuns of Mission Dolores Grammar School in San Francisco. My brothers George, John and I attended this school, especially since our parents preferred that we be in a school which taught Christian values. It was their fervent desire to combine education with character development. Moreover, the school was only four long blocks from our house. My birthplace was San Francisco. The hospital where I was born was Mary's Help. The house where my brothers and I were raised was on Ramona Avenue, located between Dolores and Guerrero Streets on 14th Street. My father's name was Nicholas and my mother's name, Helen. My older brother, George, was born in 1923 and my brother, John, in 1927, and I in 1925. So, I was the middle son. We were not graced with sisters. I was baptized at Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Church in San Francisco on Seventh Street. The priest who baptized me was Father Athenagoras Cavadas. He later was ordained Bishop of the New England States, appointed first Dean of our Holy Cross Seminary in Pomfret, Connecticut, and taught me dogmatics at the Seminary. This bishop officiated at my marriage to Presvytera Mary (my spouse) in 1948. We were married at the Holy Trinity Church in Lowell, Massachusetts. Subsequently, I was ordained to the Diaconate by him on October 3, 1948, in Manchester, New Hampshire. October 8, 1948, he ordained me to the Priesthood. Never in my fondest imaginings did I ever think that I would return to San Francisco as Pastor, and serve the parish where I had been baptized. More about this later. My early years were spent attending Elementary School and afternoon Greek Class. Even though I was baptized at Holy Trinity, my parents joined the Church of Saint Sophia after Father Cavadas left. Besides, our house was only three long blocks from St. Sophia, located on Valencia Street. Father Spyropoulos, Pastor of Saint Sophia, taught me how to read and write simple Greek, and my language of Greek was enriched by my speaking Greek to my parents at home. It was just natural for brothers, George and John, and me to speak Greek to our parents, who had emanated from Greece. Greek classes were held in a room off the area of the priest's office. Father Spyropoulos was my first Greek school teacher and priestly model. He was blessed also with a beautiful voice of operatic quality and range. There were times at home when I would try to imitate him both in quality and pitch. This in itself was not easy, because Father would reach high tenor notes. Even though I had a high tenor voice myself, I had not learned yet how to project my voice to reach the upper register easily. Even though my brothers kidded me from time to time and referred to me as the "priest", they came to respect my inclination toward spiritual growth. My mother enriched the tendency by encouraging me to learn more about how to sing the hymns. She often joined me in chant to make sure I had the correct melody for each hymn. I tried to imitate Father Spyropoulos in other ways. A towel would do if I were practicing how to wave a Liturgical censor. Sometimes, a towel with which I helped my mother wipe washed dishes would serve to save most of the water of the dish I was wiping from falling to the floor. You see, I would raise the washed dish toward the air with towel in hand to imitate how the priest raises the gospel book at Liturgy and chants: "Sofia, orthoi." (Wisdom, stand and attend). Mother would say, "Son, watch out, the water is dripping to the floor." Father Spyropoulos discerned that I had a priestly disposition. Once he was confident I knew enough Greek to read the Epistle of the Wedding Service in Greek, he urged me to do exactly that, to attend certain weddings at the church, stand on the first step of the Bishop's throne, and not just read the Epistle, but chant it. I must say, this was done nervously at first, slowly yet steadily later, with gusto. He would tell me to make sure I emphasized with voice the last phrase of the Epistle, which states: "And the woman, to respect her man." In Greek, in previous centuries, the word for a wife's looking up to her husband as leader was "fovos" (fear). The word "fovos", however, did not mean "fright" or "fear" as this word "fovos" is used today to mean "fright." It meant respect and reverence. Well, the people thought it meant fright. So, when I would chant, with extra emphasis, the word "fovos", the congregation would begin to laugh. I felt puzzled, thinking that I had done something wrong. I realized later that the emphasis was put on that word to remind the bride she should respect her husband and cause her to consider him the head of the household. You may imagine how deflated I felt at the time. Priests, then, seemed to feel the need to emphasize the husband's role in family life, since our immigrant parents had been raised to believe that a wife must subject herself to her husband. How times have changed from then until now. It was interesting to observe how the priest conducted Liturgy or a Wedding. To revert to that era of my life and realize that the priest was taking a chance on a boy not yet in high school to chant the Epistle for the Wedding Service, an auspicious occasion for a couple, seems daunting today. Then, it was a challenge. I remember re-reading and chanting the Epistle at home a week before the Wedding, just to make sure the words were read and chanted correctly, and even practicing the inflections of voice form phrase to phrase. Should I go higher or lower at this point? Should I end with flourish? Should I end with a particular trill note? Fr. Anthony Bio [Home] || -->Go to Chapter 2 |