Our priest’s father, Fr. Joseph Kreta, fell asleep in the Lord this evening. May his memory be eternal!

I have come to appreciate, deeply, the Orthodox response to death. And, of course, nothing captures grief and mourning and bitterness and beauty quite like the Russian choral tradition. Anguish and tears and darkness… and hope. All enveloped in a transcendent movement of mind and heart, singing, flowing towards God. As someone—I don’t know who—once said, “it can make stones weep.”

(Especially when the voices are led by extraordinary Russian oktavist Vladimir Miller. Basso profundo indeed.)

UPDATE: I see that today is the birthday of my beautiful departed friend Cinnamon. She would have been 32. Memory Eternal!

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