The orthodox church of Agia Sophia in Los Angeles
Given this condition under which I currently find myself, I go to church bearing Greek orthodox liturgies in mind and the conventions they have to follow. Any subversion of these conventions as well as added elements-mostly met as prayers or confessions- interrupt the flow of the liturgy and expand it in time as well as in space. To be more precise, my first surprise came upon the performance of the so-called: kissing of peace: I heard the priest summoning the congregation to a confession: “Let us love one another. Christ is in our midst…”. In these words people turn to each other, hug ,kiss each other or shake hands firmly while repeating those last words. People turn to their right, to the left and to their back. That was an expansion of the liturgy in space the fulfillment of which was a proof of the faith of the congregation and their co-ordination with the priest’s words and deeds.
If I can further describe other surprises which I experienced in Agia Sophia church as expansions in time through the use of sounds, I would single today’s experience out as the most controversial one.
The psalt (the singer) was about to perform the apostle reading, which precedes the Gospel. My friend suddenly turned to me and said: “listen to this: he is going to read it in Modern Greek language”. I felt as if a strong sea wave had come upon me and thrust me backwards.
I listened to the reading. The language was a mixture of modern Greek with some original forms of the apostle reading (words and phrases) scattered here and there all throughout. Even though the meaning of the text was much clearer in this form, I found myself working not towards a translation-as I would do had the original form being read- but towards a struggle of my memory to reproduce the original version. I could not catch up with time and the psalt’s speed so I gave up. Asking for a feedback, my friend heard me saying: “I am not sure this version is better than the original text”.
If we consider up- to- date Modern Greek as the spoken and written version which dominated twentieth century to this very day, the temporal dimension is quite clearly defined. On the other hand, the liturgy was written in an older version of the language and so were the Gospels. The space of the liturgy is the space occupied exclusively by the older version. Each version of the Greek language has a specific space, keeps its own way and these ways are parallel to each other. They never meet.
Not until today-at least as far as I am concerned. Today, modern Greek was to replace the older version for as long as the apostle reading lasted. Modern Greek language was projected onto an older version of it. Moreover, I thought that the psalt had temporarily suspended his role: I could hear a Greek (and not a psalt) speaking in modern Greek for some minutes and then switching to the original form of the liturgy (switching back to his role as a psalt). How can this be compatible with all other parts of the liturgy sung in their original form or in English?
I felt as if I had been deprived of the value of linguistic forms and versions by experiencing this expansion in time. The issue is not so much about the meaning of the text as it is about the value of the form and its exclusive use so as to signify a specific practice. It is, after all, a matter of keeping with the suitability of sounds in particular settings and moments.
