|
|
Home || Ministries & Organizations || Our History || Calendar || Contact Us || Donations Fr. Anthony Bio [Home] || <--Go to Chapter 6 || --><--Go to Chapter 8
Autobiography of Father Anthony Kosturos
My first Vespers Service at the Seminary inspired me. As I heard the older students chanting, I wondered how the Greek taught and used in the Services of the Church would be mastered. My mind was set. I would attempt to master the language and also learn how to chant much better. In my High School years I had chanted with Mr. Christ Makrygiannis at the Annunciation Church in San Francisco. That was simple chanting. What I was hearing now required much study. Also, listening to forty or more Seminarians chanting together was a rare experience. In addition, watching our Dean, Bishop Cavadas, standing at his simple throne as he shared the Service and listened very carefully to the way the Seminarians were chanting prompted me to realize that I had so much to learn under his tutelage. Moreover, the chanting touched my spirit. I could feel our Lord's presence. When I first arrived at the Seminary, I thought a Bible would be handed to me for study and contemplation. Was I surprised when a hoe was given me, and I was directed to proceed to the very large Seminarian garden, where all kinds of vegetables were being grown for consumption by the Seminarians. This garden was our source for various kinds of vegetables cooked for us at meals. Why the hoe? So that I might weed and dig. To add to my surprise, I was appointed to take care of the rabbits in the garden. They were useful in preparing "stifatho," a rabbit meal. The Bishop himself instructed me as to how, how much, how often, and how carefully to feed them and give them food without overfeeding them or water-logging them. I listened attentively, never having raised rabbits in San Francisco, and for that matter, never having weeded or dug with a hoe. Our home backyard did not require this kind of attention. Most of it was concrete. My day of reckoning with the rabbits came very quickly. Within one week, four had expired. Solicitously, I had over-fed them and over-parched their thirst. The Bishop realized I was out of my league in matters of farming. "Son," he said, with empathetic understand, "I want you to leave this tending of rabbits and come and work in the Seminary office. At the mortality rate of these rabbits, we won't have any "stifatho" available to our students." I felt embarrassed, and sheepishly proceeded to work in the office. This was a humbling experience. I felt I had disappointed the Bishop. In hindsight, he understood that my exposure to husbandry was nil, and he cushioned my disappointment by tell me, "I need you in the office." That's where I learned to type in Greek. That's where I had an inside look at how the Seminary functions on an administrative level. That's where I acquired a rounded knowledge of the Bishop's personality. The academic program for the Seminary was rigorous. We were required to speak only Greek for five years. Dogmatics, Patrology, Ethics, Liturgics, Interpretation of Scripture (Exegetics), Grammar, Chanting with Byzantine notation, and subjects related to this Seminary Form took up our morning and afternoon hours. We rose at 6 a.m., went to Chapel for Morning Service, had breakfast in an expansive dining hall, went to class, had lunch, worked in the garden to raise vegetables and the like, and continued our studies. We did our homework in our classroom supervised by the Fifth Year men, who were preparing to be ordained. Bishop Cavadas instituted a West Point kind of system. We had to address the Fifth Year Seminarians with the word "Kyrie, Sir," in anticipation of their becoming priests after their graduation. We had one half day a week to go to the small town called Putnam to shop for needed items or go to a movie. We had to wear our cassock when we went to Chapel. We also visited parishes on Sundays, and sang as a choir, and the Fifth Year men served as sub-deacons to get a feel for liturgical order. Just imagine forty or more Seminarians singing chorally during Liturgy. It was inspirational, especially when a classmate was being ordained. The entire choir would sing the "Kyrie Eleison" as we knelt on the altar steps, and the Bishop read the prayer of ordination over the candidate for the priesthood. To this day, I remember the Seminarian with a high, light tenor voice, singing the solo as the choir softly sang the "Kyrie Eleison" many times, intertwining a melodic line with the choir's singing. Some of us would become quite emotional as this took place, because we knew that some day others would be singing at our ordination to the priesthood. How sublime this moment was. Bishop Cavadas often had me accompany him to parishes as his car driver and sub-deacon. Often, he would begin a hymn while the car was on the road, and I would join him singing the second voice. He would point things out to me, and emphasized always that I should practice being very observant of human behavior. He had an uncanny knack for "pegging" persons well. At gatherings, he greeted people with a wonderful smile, with that dignified bearing which was his, and he had a wry sense of humor. One time, at the Seminary, he asked a seminarian where he was going. "Nowhere, your Grace," said the young man. "Well," he answered, "you must be going somewhere because one of your feet is moving ahead of the other." He was very particular about how a Service should be conducted. His voice was frail. He knew this. Yet, when he conducted Liturgy, it was a masterpiece of liturgical drama. His every move, the nuances of his "phrasing," the way he blessed the congregation evoked "reverent" worship. "Watch how you vest, walk, chant, and speak at Liturgy. Remember always that you stand before the sacred altar where "even angels tread in awe." He would repeatedly say also: "Remember, you are a priest always, inside and outside church." He confirmed what I already felt. Fr. Anthony Bio [Home] || <--Go to Chapter 6 || --><--Go to Chapter 8 |