We should especially remember the clearest, brightest sign of our singular past. We manifest this sign at every Divine Liturgy and every Divine Service. Indeed, whenever we congregate as Christian, Rusyn people, this sign emerges as clear as sunrise in the morning.
Of course I am speaking here of the Carpatho-Rusyn legacy of Prostopinije — and it is a golden legacy.
It is rightly treasured and cherished.
As we sing its beautiful cycle of eight tones, in the various settings of tropar, kondak, bohorodicen, samolahsen, sticherij and irmos, we are hearing two sets of echoes.
First of all, we hear — of course — the dogma of the Apostolic Church. We hear the Tradition that binds us with the rest of Eastern Christendom.
But secondly, we hear something that defines us in Christian difference. We hear echoes and ancient strains from the Carpathian mountains. We hear melodies that were sung on the hillsides, in far off rustic churches. We hear tones that were gathered from songs that were sung in the towns on summer evenings. We hear echoes from pilgrimages, and the chorus of older women as they trod carefully up hillsides to shrines set in high mountain meadows. And in the great Feasts, we even hear older, more ancient melodies — melodies which carry the haunting tones of Kiev and Constantinople.
+ Metropolitan Nicholas (1936-2011), American Carpatho-Russian Orthodox Diocese of the U.S.A.
[from Archpastoral Address to the Visitation of the Sts. Cyril and Methodius Seminary to Christ the Saviour Seminary in Johnstown, PA, USA on 13 October 2010]
