Gunpowder and Incense – Great and Holy Friday
The bier's flowers filled the empty room with fragrance that was quickly replaced by incense and the curious addition of gunpowder. In Cyprus, Pascha and the proceeding days are marked by a literal explosion of street fireworks. Young boys delight in setting off all sorts of “bangers” during the services and really, at all hours of the day or night. As the Church filled with hundreds of people, the booms increased in frequency and the chanting never skipped a beat.
Standing in the back of the balcony, unable to understand the language or even see more of the top of the iconstasis, I spent the evening Friday service trying my best to keep Audrey occupied and on the quiet end of the spectrum. The service flew past me, over my head and beyond my heart and I missed most of the moments that make this service so beautiful and powerful.
Yet, this is one of the beauties of the liturgical year. I will experience this service, over and over again for the rest of my life. Later, I will have the chance to focus on the chanted odes and watch
the pageantry. Tonight, my job is to watch my daughter make friends with the other children pattering around the dusty balcony. I show her the drying olive branches and point to the large cross we can see poking out over the bodies crammed against the railing. When she falls asleep, I hold her and gratefully accept a chair. Instead of following the bier through the village, I take her home, rocking her as the church bells peal and the firecrackers proclaim the funeral route.
Jake returns just after she's and I have fallen asleep and smells of incense and rosewater. We are exhausted by the week and wait for Pascha just around the corner.
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