Perched high, very high, on the Western edge of the Skaros rock in Imerovigli of Santorini, Panagia Theoskepasti (She Who Is Covered by God) blesses the Aegean!
This is a beautiful chapel on one of the most difficult heights of Santorini, standing alone, amidst winds and storms and dominating with her Grace the vast blue that lies before it. Its unique beauty inspired our great writer Elias Venezis to write a beautiful short story dedicated to this chapel!
From its small courtyard, which is located at a height of 400 meters in a vertical position above the sea, the pilgrim can enjoy the sun, while it sinks into the Aegean, setting the sky on fire with red colors.
The truth is that it is not an easy task to get there. There are many steps. Over 300. And the path is difficult and in some parts windy and dangerous.
However, if there is faith and a sincere search for the true aesthetics of Santorini, away from foolish worldliness and useless noise, then it is worth the effort to climb Skaros and visit the small chapel of Panagia Theoskepasti at its edge.
Besides, around the rock of Skaros, one can see the ruins of the old capital of Santorini.
And in addition, throughout the route you will enjoy a unique view of the island of Santorini and the caldera, as well as the rocks of Santorini, which change color playing with the light of the Aegean.
Panagia Theoskepasti is celebrated every year on December 26, where locals set up a small picturesque festival around her, sharing fried cod and local wine.
Any visitor to the island who does not visit the chapel can be sure that he has missed a precious part of the unique moments that Santorini can offer him.
Apolytikion.
Tone 4. Tachy prokatalave.
As you held as an infant in your arms, O Pure One, Him who is Master of all, who took flesh from you, you were revealed as the cause of joy. Therefore all creation joyfully sings your praises today, O Theotokos, for in your awesome childbirth you gave birth to the source of immortality for the world.
By Elias Venezis
This is a beautiful chapel on one of the most difficult heights of Santorini, standing alone, amidst winds and storms and dominating with her Grace the vast blue that lies before it. Its unique beauty inspired our great writer Elias Venezis to write a beautiful short story dedicated to this chapel!
From its small courtyard, which is located at a height of 400 meters in a vertical position above the sea, the pilgrim can enjoy the sun, while it sinks into the Aegean, setting the sky on fire with red colors.
The truth is that it is not an easy task to get there. There are many steps. Over 300. And the path is difficult and in some parts windy and dangerous.
However, if there is faith and a sincere search for the true aesthetics of Santorini, away from foolish worldliness and useless noise, then it is worth the effort to climb Skaros and visit the small chapel of Panagia Theoskepasti at its edge.
Besides, around the rock of Skaros, one can see the ruins of the old capital of Santorini.
And in addition, throughout the route you will enjoy a unique view of the island of Santorini and the caldera, as well as the rocks of Santorini, which change color playing with the light of the Aegean.
Panagia Theoskepasti is celebrated every year on December 26, where locals set up a small picturesque festival around her, sharing fried cod and local wine.
Any visitor to the island who does not visit the chapel can be sure that he has missed a precious part of the unique moments that Santorini can offer him.
Apolytikion.
Tone 4. Tachy prokatalave.
As you held as an infant in your arms, O Pure One, Him who is Master of all, who took flesh from you, you were revealed as the cause of joy. Therefore all creation joyfully sings your praises today, O Theotokos, for in your awesome childbirth you gave birth to the source of immortality for the world.
Theoskepasti
By Elias Venezis
Suddenly a very faint whisper, a compunctious psalmody, a supplicating voice, mingling with the voice of desolation and of the sea, reached our ears. Women’s lips were chanting Christian hymns. Beneath the ruins of the Frankish castle, the humble melody of Orthodoxy — a testimony to continuity — what a stirring moment it was!
It was as though a violent gust of wind had shaken us. We took a few more steps. And then there appeared before our eyes a dazzling vision, unforgettable forever, white, utterly white: the “Theoskepasti.” Above the hanging waters, on the wild rock, above the volcano.
Now the hymns came more clearly. We went forward and entered the Theoskepasti. Spotlessly clean, bare, completely bare was the little chapel, like all the small chapels of the Greeks.
Only a wooden, old — very old — carved iconostasis. And before the sanctuary, beneath the worn iconostasis, kneeling on the flagstones, heads bowed, withdrawn into their supplication, alone with themselves and with God, barefoot — the women dressed in black, whom we had seen from afar, were chanting.
One of them was reading the troparia from the Synopsis; the others, the illiterate ones, were murmuring along with her. They had lit the oil lamps; outside was the open sea, the “gatherings of the waters” — everything was compunction and solitude. The women were chanting the Service of the Small Supplicatory Canon:
“I place you as the protection and shelter of my life,
O Virgin Theotokos;
guide me to your haven.”
“Deliver your servants from dangers, O Theotokos,
for after God we all flee to you.”
They heard our footsteps, yet it was as though we were not there; they did not even turn toward us. Thus always: bent low, kneeling, shrouded in black, supplicants.
We too were carried away by the mystery and the compunction; in a short while we became one with them, and we too prayed — for what we love and for all people.
When the supplication ended and the women rose from the flagstones, they were pale, yet great peace was on their faces. They gathered around us, told their stories, and we told ours.
One had a child killed in the war; another has a son in the army; another has a son who travels at sea. Every year they make a vow to walk around the entire island on foot, lighting the oil lamps in the little chapels.
Thus they set out again this year. At daybreak they took to the road from Pyrgos, barefoot, and the dust covered their hard, tormented feet. Now, after receiving Her grace, after the Theoskepasti, they would climb toward the other little chapels, toward the west.
They took from their bundle their provisions: wheat bread, the tiny Santorini tomatoes, little net-caught fish, fried. They drew water from the small cistern — rainwater — and offered us water and bread.
We did not wish to deprive them of what little they had — bread and water. But they insisted that we take it, looking at us pleadingly in the eyes, as though asking us a favor.
“Now the Theoskepasti has united us,” they said.
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
