By Fr. George Dorbarakis
1. Saint Kosmas (685–c. 750 AD), who was probably born in Damascus, was orphaned at an early age and adopted by Sergius, the father of Saint John of Damascus. Sergius was wealthy and held a prominent position in public life as the financial administrator of the Arab caliph. Seeing that both boys had a natural inclination toward learning, Sergius engaged a highly learned and wise man, also named Kosmas, who came from Calabria, to teach them every branch of knowledge, both divine and human. Indeed, within a very short time, the two young men, John and Kosmas, learned grammar and philosophy, astronomy and geometry, as well as poetry and music, under their teacher Kosmas, and they became respected by all. Anyone wishing to understand the extent of their excellence in every field need only examine the writings they produced. After completing their studies, they went to the Lavra of Saint Savvas and became monks. The blessed John was ordained a presbyter by the Patriarch of Jerusalem, while the venerable Kosmas, after being earnestly entreated by the entire Synod of Bishops, was appointed Bishop of the city of Maiuma. Having conducted himself well and guided his flock along the saving paths of the faith, he reached an advanced age and then reposed in the Lord.
2. It is not easy to speak in prose about Saint Kosmas the Poet and Melodist, who composed not only hymns but also set them to music. For how can the prosaic nature of ordinary speech worthily praise “the harp of the Spirit, the divinely inspired lyre,” “the trumpet proclaiming the saving Passion of Christ, His miracles, and the Dormition of the All-Pure One,” “the spiritual composer of hymns,” or “the God-flowing spring”? How much more difficult is this when the works set to music by Saint Kosmas concern the Holy Trinity, the great feasts of our Master, and the Most Holy Theotokos!
Let us remember that the Nativity Canon, “Christ is born; glorify Him” («Ī§ĻιĻĻĻĻ Ī³ĪµĪ½Ī½Ī¬Ļαι ΓοξάĻαĻε»); the Theophany Canon, “The depths of the abyss He uncovered” («ĪĻ ĪøĪæĻ Ī±Ī½ĪµĪŗĪ¬Ī»Ļ Ļε ĻĻ ĪøĪ¼Īνα»); and the Paschal Canon, “By a wave of the sea” («ĪĻμαĻι θαλάĻĻĪ·Ļ»), are all his works. The Hymnographer who composed the hymns for his feast is fully aware of this reality: such an outstanding poet can be praised only by an equally great poet. And that poet is none other than David. One must possess something of the grandeur of the prophet-king in order to render fitting praise to the divine hymns of Saint Kosmas: “Let us extol the spiritual composer of hymns with songs of David.”
Moreover, even his repose must be commemorated in a melodious manner: “Following your own laws, O blessed one, we have resolved to hymn your departure to the heights.” In other words, following your own practice, O blessed one — that is, expressing ourselves through hymns — we intend to sing the praises of your departure to God.
The Hymnographer does not know how to praise not only Kosmas’s compositions but also his holy life. In his perplexity, he takes refuge in the great figures of the Old Testament, its great Patriarchs — Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Moses — and even righteous Abel. “You sought to rival Abel in zeal,” he says, “offering the first fruits of your words as sacrifices of living creatures.” In other words, Kosmas, you sought to rival Abel because you offered the first fruits of your words to God as sacrifices, just as Abel offered the best of his flock.
Elsewhere, the Hymnographer says that Kosmas imitated Abraham, who willingly offered his son Isaac in sacrifice. Kosmas, too, sacrificed himself, like another Isaac, through the martyrdom of his conscience: “...sacrificing Isaac, as another willing offering, having imitated Abraham....”
We should not pass over the comparison between Saint Kosmas and Abel without comment. The Hymnographer’s observation that the Saint also offered the first fruits of his words to God signifies, on the one hand, his profound love for Him — God was his first priority — and, on the other, that ecclesiastical poetry and hymnody were not merely a secondary occupation for him. In addition to his pastoral duties, he devoted considerable time to hymning beautifully the Passion of the Lord, His miracles, the lives and conduct of the Saints, and especially the Most Holy Theotokos.
Saint Kosmas understood that it was not enough merely to proclaim the faith of Christ; it was also necessary to proclaim it in a manner that would make it more readily received by the faithful. This, after all, was one of the reasons the Church introduced poetry and hymnody into her worship. The reasons were primarily pastoral, not aesthetic. Both the content and the form therefore play a role in the presentation of the gospel. A tree is beautiful not only because of its fruit but also because of its foliage.
Here, if I may, I would like to share something I heard only a few days ago, which sheds further light on this truth. The well-known and eminent poet Yiannis Ritsos, whose religious or political convictions are not relevant here, once remarked in an old television broadcast that one of the reasons our Nobel Prize-winning poet Odysseas Elytis received the Nobel Prize in Literature was that the Swedes, like other Europeans, had become acquainted with his poetry through musical settings of his major works. One example was Axion Esti, set to music by Mikis Theodorakis, whose musical genius was beyond question. Music, in other words, became a bridge through which a vast audience could encounter poetry itself.
Something else mentioned in the synaxarion of Saint Kosmas—and also of his brother, Saint John of Damascus—is, I believe, of exceptional importance. Both became great and outstanding hymnographers and melodists. How did they reach such heights? Was it solely because of their natural talent, their artistic temperament, and their poetic character? Certainly these played a part. But had they not had their teacher, Kosmas of Calabria, also known as the Stranger, we cannot know whether they would have developed their gifts to the same extent.
In other words, the raw material was certainly there, but their teacher recognized it, cultivated it, and helped it flourish. This is an important observation because it highlights the role of a true teacher. A teacher is there not merely to impart knowledge but, above all, to discern the gifts of his students, to sense what lies within them, as we commonly say. It is a great blessing to find such teachers. This confirms a universally acknowledged truth: whatever happens in the world, and however far humanity advances in technology and invention, the teacher will always remain unique and irreplaceable. There is one reason above all: life (the student) encounters and is nourished by life itself (the teacher).
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
