From the Prayer Rope to Scrolling...

I know, I know — months have passed since the last time I was deemed worthy to write you a couple of lines, but spare a thought for me too, the humble Sexton, and what I endure without your knowing it…

Although my stomach is still conducting difficult negotiations with the Paschal lamb and the tsoureki bread, I found a little time to bring up something an elderly Metropolitan confided to me between bites of cheese and pear.

“Sexton,” he says to me, “I watch with admiration — and a little bewilderment — the newfound flourishing of the ‘digital shepherds.’”

I confess I was left dumbfounded. So I seized the opportunity to ask what the “poet” — or rather the Hierarch — meant.

From Ben-Hur to the Fall of Constantinople: Lew Wallace, Faith, and the Limits of Historical Imagination

The literary career of Lew Wallace, who had previously served as a Union general in the American Civil War, reveals a remarkable development in both religious reflection and historical interpretation. His two most ambitious works, Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ (1880) and The Prince of India; or, Why Constantinople Fell (1893), are not merely historical novels; they represent distinct stages in Wallace’s engagement with Christianity. The former emerges from a personal search for faith and expresses theology through narrative experience, while the latter attempts a sweeping interpretation of world history and religious decline. Taken together, these works trace a movement from lived religious encounter to abstract historical speculation—a movement that ultimately reveals both Wallace’s strengths and the limits of his perspective, particularly in his understanding of Orthodox Christianity and the Byzantine world.

To understand this development, one must begin with the circumstances that gave rise to Ben-Hur. Prior to writing the novel, Wallace was not firmly grounded in Christian belief. A decisive moment occurred in 1876, when he entered into conversation with the noted agnostic lecturer Robert G. Ingersoll. Ingersoll’s confident skepticism exposed Wallace’s own uncertainty and lack of theological clarity. Confronted with his inability to articulate or defend Christian doctrine, Wallace resolved to undertake a serious study of Christianity. Rather than producing a theological treatise, however, he turned to narrative as his medium.

A New Television Series on the Life of Saint Joseph the Hesychast Coming Soon

 

Aris Servetalis is preparing to return to the small screen on Greece's Mega Channel, nearly 25 years after his last television appearance. He will star in a new religious series, portraying Saint Joseph the Hesychast, one of the most significant figures of modern Orthodox monasticism.

The role of the Saint is said to be depicted in two age phases: the young Joseph will be played by Tasos Lekkas, while Servetalis will portray him in his mature years. Rumors suggest that Pygmalion Dadakaridis and Nikos Gkelias have also already joined the cast.

The series, which will consist of 12 episodes, is scheduled to begin filming after Easter, with the aim of airing in the next television season. The script is written by Giorgos Tsiakkas (who also wrote the script for the television series on Saint Paisios the Athonite), and the series is directed by Stamos Tsamis (who also directed the television series on Saint Paisios the Athonite). Production is supported by the Monastery of Vatopaidi and the Institute of Saint Maximus the Greek, as was the case with the cinematic adaptation of the life of Saint Nektarios of Aegina.

Screens in our Lives and in Society (Metropolitan Hierotheos of Nafpaktos)

Screens in our Lives and in Society 

 

By Metropolitan Hierotheos of Nafpaktos and Agiou Vlasiou

Our contemporary life, especially that of young people, is closely connected with screens — those of television, cinema, computers, tablets, smartphones, and so on. Screens have deeply penetrated our lives and our society. This too is a product of electrical energy and modern technology. Their use is necessary and beneficial, but their overuse creates many problems for our health and our social interaction, because human social relationships are also disrupted. It is a common phenomenon to encounter groups of young people all looking at their smartphones and not conversing — or conversing with one another through messages — while they are together.

In a main article of a newspaper (TA NEA, 4 November 2025) titled “Screens,” the danger of excessive screen use is presented, especially among children and adolescents. It is noted at the outset that “mobile phones and tablets have unfortunately become an inseparable part of children’s everyday life.” The article then presents the results of a study by “the unit for the treatment of young people’s addiction to mobile phones and tablets" at the General Children's Hospital Panagioti and Aglaia Kyriakou, according to which a high rate of screen addiction among children is observed. Specifically, “78% of minors aged 5 to 12 use the internet, while in the age group of 10 to 12 the percentage reaches 90%.” Adolescents in particular “spend six hours a day in front of a screen, when the recommended maximum exposure time is two to three.”

“I Write As It Comes Down To Me”: Papadiamantis as a Poet and the Ethos of Inspiration. 115 Years Since His Repose.

Photograph of Alexandros Papadiamantis by Pavlos Nirvanas at Dexamenis Square in 1906.

By Stelios Koukos

“I write as it comes down to me.” How tragic —  and how beautiful! Tragic for a professional journalist when he is asked to write an article and he gets blocked, loses his bearings, doesn’t know where to begin or where to end; and a blessing when it comes to a poet, who is guided by inspiration to write something within the personal form he has established for himself.

This is also the case with a prose writer of the stature of Alexandros Papadiamantis, who uttered the above phrase. It was particularly tragic for him to be asked to improvise, in a sense, on the spot, on a topical subject, writing an article to be published in a newspaper. Nothing could be more shocking for a poet — such as the great writer from Skiathos! Even for the same man who worked in the press as a translator from English and French newspapers.

Nevertheless, Papadiamantis was probably put in an awkward position before his employer, the legendary Constantinopolitan publisher Vlasis Gavrielidis, who asked — or rather entrusted — him with this task. He believed that Papadiamantis would be the most suitable person to write it. Perhaps he even thought that Papadiamantis would express the “line” of the publisher and the newspaper.