On the Glorious Dormition of the Most Holy Mother of God the Ever-Virgin Mary
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October 2, 2022Oration on the Glorious Dormition of the Most Holy Mother of God the Ever-Virgin Mary
Excerpt from St. John Damascene, Priest, Confessor and Doctor
Though there is no one among men, even had he a thousand tongues, and a thousand mouths, who can speak with fitting praise and reverence of the holy departure from this life of the Mother of God; nor could all the united tongues of all men throughout the world praise her with fitting praise; for she is above all praise; nevertheless, since it is pleasing and acceptable to God that we should as best we can honour her with all our heart, with all our love and fervour, and since what is pleasing to her Son, will also be pleasing and acceptable to the Mother of God, bear with me then, O Best of Shepherds, and pleasing to God, while I, obedient to your request, attempt once more to speak her praises.
And at the same time, we invoke the help of that Word Who from her took Flesh, Who fills every mouth that is opened to Him, Who is her sole Adornment, her all-glorious Song of Praise; knowing that when we begin to sing her praises, we pay our debts, and paying them begin again to be her debtors: so that our debt to her is ever beginning, and ever being paid. And may she also be favourable to us whom we have undertaken to praise: She who as Mother of God, the Creator and Maker and Ruler of all things, is above all creatures and Mistress of all that was made. And may this gracious assembly of those who love to hear of divine things, be patient with me, and in your kindness, help me in my purpose; and be patient also with the poverty of the words I address to you.
For I am like some poor gardener who brings to one who is divinely appointed to rule, and who already possesses a bountifully provided table and a palace filled with the most exquisite perfumes, a rare purple violet out of season, or a fragrant rose blooming on a thorn, with green leaves and buds of varying colours and slowly turning pink, or offers some rare fruit of autumn. The ruler would not consider the poverty of the gift, but would look rather to its rarity, and admire its unusual appearance; seeing in it what is pleasing and appreciating it with kindness. And he would reward the gardener with a gift, with something rich and beautiful. And so do we come from the winter of our poverty, bearing flowers to our Queen, weaving a garland of words in this contest of praise, and to proclaim her yet more, labouring upon our purpose with the heart , as with iron upon stone, to press out from the mind, the source of speech, as from unripe grapes, some spark, some vintage of words to put before you who love words, and are eager to hear ours.
