Here’s an interesting story that I was told the other day. Settle yourselves down and slusaj…(with a ‘sh’ on that second ‘s’).
Once upon a time (nekoc – with a ‘ch’) in a little village on Hvar, there was a lovely Catholic priest who ministered to his flock (as was required of him), going about his daily business diligently and properly.
After perhaps a little too much attention being paid to one particular young woman in the village, he found that he was about to become a father (in the true meaning of the word). He hitched up his cassock and went to visit his supervising spiritual senior to confess this mortal sin and to seek guidance.
The senior spiritual adviser saw that the young priest was as passionate about his work as he was about the young mother-to- be, saw that he was a good man, (and perhaps had experienced similar situations in his own life) and came up with a pragmatic solution.
‘Father’ he said (because he was, and he was) ‘the Greek Orthodox Church allows priests to marry. Consider this - you could convert to that religion, find twenty five people to be your congregation, and continue using the same church.’
And so it came to pass. To this day there remains a Greek Orthodox Church in the little village of Bogomolje on the island of Hvar. And know you know why.
Gotta love pragmatism. Don’t you love the history behind these little things?
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