Matushka Constantina discusses Her life as a priest’s wife, Wisdom From her Time Inside a Monastery, Her Experiences in South Korea, and Her Relationship With Iconography

What parish do you currently serve?

My husband is the rector of Holy Lady of Vladimir Mission in the Canadian Archdiocese of the Orthodox Church in America. It is the only Orthodox Christian parish in the Canadian province of Newfoundland and Labrador (NL). We currently rent a building just outside the city limits of the capital, St. John’s, which is located on the easternmost part of the island of Newfoundland (nicknamed “the Rock” on account of its shallow soil and rocky terrain). The next nearest Orthodox parish is over around 800 miles away, and the trip there includes a 12-14 hour boat ride. Geographically, the province is huge; it’s just a bit smaller than California. But it’s sparsely populated, only 500k people, most of who live in or nearby St. John’s.  

The Mission was established in 2003. For the first two years the community had a priest, but for eight subsequent years only reader’s services were offered – except on rare occasions when a priest would visit from the mainland. 

Father John and I moved to Newfoundland in 2013 from Greece, where we had lived and studied theology in Thessaloniki for nearly six years. At the time the idea of moving to Newfoundland, while daunting in its isolation, was attractive, not only because it’s located in Atlantic Canada (where both Father John and I grew up in – relatively nearby – New Brunswick), but because it is where my father was born and raised. Newfoundland is the land of my ancestors.

Other than a brief six-month sabbatical spent living in the Sonoran Desert in Arizona, we have been serving the Mission here for 12 years. Since the beginning our community has predominantly been comprised of individuals and families from historical Orthodox countries: Romania, Ukraine, Russia, Greece, Serbia, etc., and has been predominantly transitional. The main things that draw people to move to NL are studies and employment; conversely, they are the same things that take people away from it. We have had many, many people attend our Mission throughout these years, but almost as many have moved away. In fact, there are only two families in our Mission at this moment who lived here when Father and I first moved here.

Although for years there was little-to-no interest in (or familiarity with) Orthodox Christianity by the local community, this changed about five years ago. We began having locals come to services, writing and calling Father, showing interest in learning about the Orthodox Faith. Just as the ocean gradually impacts a shoreline by its consistent and steady churn, we began to see the “shoreline” of the local mentality begin to erode and give way to the impact of consistent divine services being offered in this geographically large, but isolated land.

From day one I recognized that until locals embrace Orthodox Christianity our community will remain transitional. To this day I can honestly say it has often felt like we are lighthouse operators: we guide Orthodox faithful to the island and away from the island; many pass through, but most continue on. With the spike of locals attending my hope for the firm and lasting establishment of Orthodoxy on “the Rock” has been reinforced.

Our services are exclusively in English, as it is the common language of our people, with the ‘Our Father’ being recited in as many languages as people who are present speak. We hold frequent service. Four or five days a week you will likely find Father John at the church: Great Vespers on Saturday evenings, Matins and Divine Liturgy on Sunday mornings, and a number of Vespers services, and an early morning liturgy (ie. before the workday begins) during the week. Church attendance numbers have expanded in recent years; we have gone from a baseline of 15 people to 35-40 people on Sundays. In the beginning our small numbers really bothered me, but I have come to understand from experience what Metropolitan Augustine of Florina means when he says, “We want a Church of quality, not quantity.” It is not uncommon for us to have 10 people at a weekday Vespers; we’ve had up to 12 people for an early morning liturgy at 5:30am. I rejoice in this.   

  What books have you authored thus far?
I have written three books and one novelette.

The Scent of Holiness: Lessons from a Women’s Monastery (Ancient Faith Publishing, 2012) is a collection of stories of my frequent trips to women’s monasteries in Northern Greece. A modern-day Materikon written by a layperson for laypeople. 

The Sweetness of Grace: Stories of Christian Trial and Victory (Ancient Faith Publishing, 2017) includes stories about monastics, priests and pious laity located throughout the world. It offers insights into the Orthodox Church in Seoul, experiences of parish life in Thessaloniki, and pilgrimages to monasteries not only in Greece but in North America.

Upon This Rock: Missionary Reflections of an Orthodox Priest’s Wife (Alexander Press, 2025) is a collection of pastoral letters. Composed of a variety of generally applicable themes, they give insight into life as a priest’s wife, contain practical tips for deepening our faith, lending our talents to our local parish, and sowing the seeds of the Gospel in a spiritually “foreign land”. These letters are, above all, written as a matushka, a presvytera, a priest’s wife writing to her “children” for whom she cares and wishes to see flourish in the love and wisdom of Christ.

Let me give a quick shout out to my sister, Kate Penney, who is the photographer behind that amazing front cover and the photo of Father John and me on the back cover. I am so happy she was a part of this special project that honours our Newfoundland heritage! 

Out of the African Lands: The Story of Saint Perpetua and Her Companions (Lumination Press, 2016) is a historical fiction novelette and chronicles the arrest, imprisonment and death of Perpetua and her five companions, Felicity, Saturus, Saturnius, Revocatus and Secundulus. Receiving freedom from their sins through baptism while imprisoned, the martyrs shine with the light of Christ, instructing us in word and deed how a person not only lives as a Christian but dies as one.

Tell us about your most recent release.

My latest publication is Upon This Rock: Missionary Reflections of an Orthodox Priest’s Wife published by Alexander Press. As I mentioned, it’s a collection of letters. Each letter is addressed to a young woman Theophila whose husband is discerning whether he’s called to the holy priesthood. Although a fictitious person, Theophila is, in a sense, a composite character of various parishioners. I have named her Theophila (meaning friend of God or God-lover in Greek) as a homage to Saint Luke the Evangelist who addressed both his Gospel and the Acts of the Apostles to a man named Theophilus. While Theophilus was a real, historical person (a local magistrate), St Bede points out that inasmuch as we are all God-lovers these Scriptures were also written to us. 

Similarly, my own letters contained in this book are written to all friends of God: to parishioners, to clergy wives, to men and women interested in ministry in the Church, to locals wanting to know what this “Orthodox thing” is all about – to one and all.

So, why did I decided to write such a book? Well, I was asked many times if I would write a collection of stories about our experiences as missionaries in the Canadian province of NL. However, I couldn’t envision a way to write non-fiction stories set in a sparsely populated place while keeping people’s identities confidential the way I was able with my other books – collections of stories from places all over the world.

That changed over five years ago when Fr John announced to our Mission our intention to relocate to the United States to teach and serve the Church there. As I listened to his announcement after the divine services, my heart felt like it was being torn in two. I thought to myself, I should write them a letter to tell them how much they have meant to me, to express to them that no matter where we go, half of my heart will always remain here with them.

In preparation for this one letter, I dug out all the personal journals I have kept since moving to the island in 2013. I was surprised to find just how frequently I wrote about the Mission, about being a priest’s wife, about my hopes and dreams for Orthodoxy to flourish here. While the border closure with the U.S. in the summer of 2020 postponed our plans to relocate to the States, we did leave on a temporary sabbatical in late 2021 before returning in the Spring of 2022 and ultimately deciding to remain on Newfoundland. The inspiration to write that one letter to our parishioners planted a seed in my mind and heart that God helped to grow. And so, that one pastoral letter I initially intended became, instead, a collection of letters written over a number of years: some giving insight into the love and concern a priest and his family have for parishioners, others drawing on our unique experiences serving a small Orthodox mission on an isolated island, many didactic, all written with care and caution so as not to offend or reveal but build up the faithful, our “little flock”(Lk 12:32).

It is upon the rock of Christ, upon our confession of Christ, our life-saving Savior, that we strive to establish Christ’s church on “the Rock”, the island of Newfoundland, in the province of Newfoundland and Labrador. This book is the complete collection of my personal reflections on a decade’s worth of our work upon this Rock. 

As described in detail in my first two books, Father and I were greatly blessed to learn from so many who are “wiser than men” (1 Cor. 1:25), who live the Gospel, whose words and ways are endowed with the gifts of the Holy Spirit. While I may have been a poor learner, still I recognise the great inheritance we were given. All the years we have been serving this Mission, we have endeavoured to honour our teachers, to pass along some fragment of the blessings we were given. And so, if I had to summarise Upon This Rock in few words, I would quote the Ever-memorable and Blessed Gerontissa Makrina of Volos: “I do not have eloquent speech to move your hearts but these humble words that I say to you I say for my heart. If you only knew how much spiritual nourishment I wish to give you” (Words of the Heart, p. 445).

Do you feel as though your time spent in a women's monastery helped grow your capacity to serve as a Matushka?

Absolutely. Abba Dorotheos of Gaza writes: “It is said that a certain brother asked an elder, ‘What shall I do, father, in order to fear God?’ The elder answered, ‘Go and cling to a man who fears God and from the fact that he fears Him, he will teach you to do likewise’.” This is how I was instructed by the monastic sisters.

What I learned from observing the nuns helped me immensely, both as a wife and as a matushka. First and foremost, the respect they show to clergy was very informative for me and made a lasting impression. While our husbands are still and will always be our husbands, after their ordination they are first priests, then husbands. In other words, I must at all times honour and respect my husband’s holy priesthood, no matter what. 

The hospitality and tireless work ethic I experienced and observed in the monastery also greatly contributed to my own approach to serving a Mission. The sisters’ example not only showed me that no task is beneath me, but more importantly, every task is an opportunity to work for the glory of God. 

Of Abba Apollo and his tireless efforts to work for Christ, it is said, “If someone came to find him about doing a piece of work, he would set out joyfully, saying, ‘I am going to work with Christ today, for the salvation of my soul, for that is the reward he gives.’” (Sayings of the Desert Fathers, 36.) This attitude was common among the nuns I spent so much time with. This beautiful, spiritualized understanding of work (whether it be cleaning the washrooms at church or sweeping the floors) greatly impressed upon me a proper mindset for the life of a priest’s wife. Nothing is too menial and everything can be done for the glory of God. This spiritualized perspective endows meaning and purpose on every little task we take on, on every little sacrifice we make.

Where have been your favorite places to travel?
Hands down the most impactful place I have ever visited was the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople. The sheer size of the church is unfathomable and the historical and spiritual significance of such a holy site floored me. At the time I prayed that God would make me worthy to stand in that sacred space when the ancient Divine Liturgy (interrupted by the Ottoman invasion) once again resumes. I still hold that hope.

What did you learn during your time in South Korea? How did it enrich your faith? Do you have any funny stories?
I learned so much during our time in South Korea! In 2006 I become a catechumen, just a few months before Father John and I left to follow my brother and sister-in-law to Seoul where we all taught English as a Second Language (ESL). And so, my fondest memories of my first year attending an Orthodox Church and learning the faith are interwoven with our experience living in East Asia. 

Orthodox Christianity has been in South Korea for over one hundred years, and so there are a number of churches, and even a monastery, in the country. We attended two churches while we lived in Seoul: the Byzantine-style Saint Nicholas Cathedral of the Metropolis of Korea where services were held in Korean, and the much smaller Russian Orthodox church of Saint Maxim the Greek which was across the churchyard from the Cathedral. During Holy Week and Pascha these two churches celebrated the services together. 

The exposure we received from attending these two distinct Orthodox parishes with Orthodox Christians from all over the world was definitely foundational to our formation as Orthodox Christians. It was there in South Korea where I first understood that Orthodoxy is who you are, not where you come from. 

This is the reason why I have never called myself a “convert” and avoid ever using the “convert/ cradle” dichotomy. My life started the day I embraced Holy Orthodoxy. My identity is Orthodox Christianity. It is my ancestry, my inheritance. Living as an Orthodox catechumen in South Korea showed me that Orthodoxy is not relegated to specific countries, languages or cultures. It is the True Faith, the Gospel of the Kingdom, to be preached to all the world (Mt. 24:14).

How did you first get interested in iconography? What are you currently working on?

I was interested in iconography from the first moment I learned about this sacred art 20 years ago now. I have loved creating art since childhood. I also loved Christian imagery from childhood. Finding out about Orthodox iconography united two beloved worlds for me.

Painting icons is where my soul is most at peace: where my heart and paint brush coalesce in prayer. As I said, I became a catechumen in 2006 and soon after began reading as much as possible about iconography. I knew I had to be baptised to start learning the practical applications of the art, so I studied the theology of icons and drew pencil sketches of holy elders and eldresses and holy places in preparation. This all took place during the year we lived in Seoul. Often in the evenings I would sit in the living room/kitchen of our small apartment in Gaepo-dong and draw for hours. Then, in 2007 Father John and I moved from South Korea to Thessaloniki.

In 2005 Father John had completed his Masters degree under the tutelage of Father Andrew Louth at Durham University in England. As we were coming to the end of our year teaching ESL in Korea, we were considering different schools where he could do his PhD; our spiritual father encouraged us to consider Greece. At that time (and probably still today), if you were accepted to study at Aristotle University as a foreigner, you were first enrolled in a Modern Greek language program prior to commencing your undergraduate or graduate studies. And so, that’s where we headed. Father John did his doctorate in homiletics and I (through the grace of God) studied with the renown dogmatic theologian, Professor Demetrios Tselingidis, who specialised in the theology of icons.

After my year of self-study in South Korea I was very eager to learn from Professor Tselingidis. My Master’s thesis was entitled, The Theological Presuppositions of the Orthodox Iconographer Based on the Stoglav Sobor (Moscow: 1551). Meanwhile, while taking my Masters degree in theology, and frequently visiting women’s monasteries (and writing and publishing my first book The Scent of Holiness), I began studying the technical art of iconography with a local Serbian iconographer, Dragan Pantelic. In the practical application of this sacred artform I found the place where everything I most loved in my childhood was united. I discovered the one true mechanism to fuse my love of art with sacred imagery. I haven’t stopped painting since, 17 years later.

Just before moving to South Korea, when I was coming to the end of my undergraduate degree in Great Books (if you don’t know what that is, look it up. It’s worth your while) – having no real job prospects (except to teach English in South Korea) – I would joke that I planned to become a “pro bono artist”. I like to think that joke has been fulfilled in becoming an “unmercenary iconographer” as I paint for free.

I did a few commissions over ten years ago, but I found the pressure to paint for money uncomfortable. I felt bombarded by anxiety, filled with doubting thoughts as to whether my work was good enough, whether the patron would like the icon, etc. And since I work a full-time secular job and don’t require the additional income, unlike many hard-working, amazing iconographers who paint to make a living, I gave it up. I mean, it sounds more romantic than it is. I mostly paint icons for myself, or to give to friends and family. I have painted all the icons on our iconostasis at Holy Lady of Vladimir Mission as well as those in our own domestic chapel (more on this below). It’s a great honour to paint holy icons and I consider this, by far, the greatest talent God has given me which I endeavour to pay back to the Master “with interest” (Mt. 25:27). 

At the end of each liturgy the priest prays: “Sanctify those who love the beauty of Your house and glorify them by Your divine power.” I love that the Orthodox Church recognises the importance of this sacred art, once again affirming that our Faith encompasses the whole person. All our talents can find fulfillment in offering them to Christ through service to the Church. 

What can we anticipate from you as far as future work and releases?
In terms of future work, I wish I could earnestly say you can expect me to take substantial steps toward holiness as I navigate the thorn and thistle-covered footpath of life in this world. However, that remains to be seen…

In the meantime, I always have projects on the go. Right now, I am focusing most of my time and energy on adorning the small chapel to Saint Nektarios we have constructed in the two-storey, insulated shed in our back garden. I am currently painting large seraphim for the lower panels of the iconostasis and I plan to start work on the icons of female and male saints to adorn the walls. It’s an incredible thing to stand in a sacred space that you created with your own hands. I think of it as a space of “handmade prayers”.

Years ago, I made my own personal prayer books. I wrote out troparia and whole services that I especially love (like the Akathist Hymns to the Mother of God and Saint John Maximovitch) and included decorative calligraphic lettering and little graphics – my own “illuminated manuscript” you could say. To pray from my own handmade prayer book in my own handmade chapel seems to add a weightiness to my unworthy prayers.

In the Divine Liturgy we hear the priest intone those sacred words, “Thine own of Thy own we offer unto Thee.” This is the intention behind our little chapel, for it to be a sacrifice of praise. Of course, it is not simply for our private use. It is open to our whole community and it doesn’t replace services at our main building, but simply adds to them. Our first divine liturgy was held before the break of dawn on the Protection of the Theotokos (October 1) of this year and each subsequent Wednesday we have held liturgy there at 5:30am. Did you know the coldest part of the night is just before dawn? I learned that from experience. When most of the world is sleeping, when it’s the darkest, coldest part of the night, “two or three are gathered together” (Mt. 18:20) to pray that “The Lord God make steadfast the holy and blameless Faith of all pious and Orthodox Christians, with His holy Church and this island unto the ages of ages. Amen” (Vespers Service).

As a humorous aside, divine services in our back garden are also very culturally fitting as “shed parties” are a common occurrence here on the island. Many people gather with neighbours, friends and family in their sheds to pass the time in drink, music and smoke. In a sense, services held in our shed-chapel sanctify and elevate this local custom. I joke that there will be drink, music, and smoke, but it’ll be very different from the typical Newfoundlander’s experience of a shed party. 

Other than working on beautifying our little chapel, I don’t have any future books or projects in the works, but you never know… 

As you've said in the past, Orthodox female spirituality is quite unique and at times slightly more hidden, due to confessors and spiritual fatherhood being a male role in the church. Do you have any advice for the Orthodox women reading this interview?

Yes, I do. Love Christ. Female spirituality isn’t different from male spirituality, for we believe and confess “one Lord, one faith, one baptism” (Eph 4:5). However, the way Christ is manifested through our own particular characters is distinct. All of the good and beneficial attributes associated with women find their highest fulfillment in loving God and loving our neighbour. Our natural propensity to nurture and care for others, to beautify and be hospitable ought to be offered first to God, and then to our neighbour. In this way we not only fulfill Christ’s commandments but we are filled with His grace. 

Excerpt from Upon This Rock: Missionary Reflections of an Orthodox Priest’s Wife, published by Alexander Press, pp. 71-77. 

Letter 21, No Longer “I” But “We”

January 14

St Nina of Georgia Equal to the Apostles

Dear Theophila,

With great joy Fr John and I received your news that David is prayerfully considering taking steps toward ordination. As you request, I will share my thoughts on the role of a priest’s wife to give you a little insight into this ministry in the Church as you both prayerfully consider embarking on this journey.

In my experience the role of the priest’s wife takes on a variety of iterations. There is no job description, blueprint or outline for this vocation. In a sense we can say this is best because each individual priest’s wife can make the role her own. In consultation with her husband (what he would find most helpful, most needful) as well as their spiritual father and/or bishop, she fulfils the role with her own particular skills, knowledge and talents. In only a few ways, we could say, all priest’s wives are similar: each in varying degrees has firsthand experience of prayer, sacrifice, obedience and responsibility. In my opinion these concepts find common expression in service to others. In this regard it can be said that the most perfect blueprint for a priest’s wife is Christ’s own example.

When Ss John and James asked to be seated on the Lord’s left and on His right, they revealed they did not yet fully understand that Christ had come to conquer sin, not a secular ruler, to establish an eternal, not temporal, Kingdom. The Lord took this opportunity to explain “I did not come to be served, but to serve and to give My life as a ransom for many.”[1] Perhaps some women have an outlook like that of the thunder brothers – that the role will be one of glory and honour. Most often though, even minimal exposure to ministry in the Church quickly dissolves that misconception.

After more than a decade of service in the Church – two years spent in Greece as a diaconissa (deacon’s wife) and over ten in Canada as a priest’s wife – I can honestly say I don’t know if there is a more apt description of the role of a priest’s wife than this beautiful line spoken by our Lord: to serve and give our life for others. Christ is and will always be the only ransom, but the concept of giving our life in service to others is foundational to one’s outlook as a priest’s wife.   

In the Church one’s responsibility in a leadership role bears more weight than comparable roles in the world. Not only are you at least partially responsible for people’s spiritual health, you are expected to lead by example. This is the essence of Christ’s words: to be worthy of sitting in the highest seat we must first seat ourselves in the lowest; to be accounted first we must consider ourselves last; to be effective in a leadership role we must make ourselves a servant.

Now, does that mean willingly accepting all manner of criticism, complaints and conforming to other people’s expectations of the priest’s wife? God forbid people treat their priest’s wife in this manner! She is obliged only to fulfil the expectations mutually-agreed upon with her husband, spiritual father and bishop.  But if, in order to strengthen us through trial, the Lord permits us to suffer some form of ridicule, ideally, we would be able to withstand it. In reality these things can be a bitter pill to swallow. A first step toward being able to live up to that ideal (and it is an ideal, not yet actualized) is to adopt a certain mindset – a mindset of humility, love and forbearance. This means seeing past the honorific title to the core of the priest’s wife’s role: with her whole heart to love and pray for those entrusted to her husband’s ministry.

In many ways the fact that those of us who occupy such roles bear responsibility for those in our husband’s care is a healthy motivator. We want to do well, to serve well, to uphold the Faith, not only for our own sake but for the sake of others: to be a source of comfort and inspiration for all parishioners.

Instructing his spiritual child on how she should guide her sisterhood, St Nektarios of Pentapolis told Abbess Xeni of the Life-giving Spring Monastery:

I advise you not to allow yourself to be consumed by sorrow and melancholy because this greatly afflicts the hearts of the sisters. I am advising you of this because I, too, have adopted this principle into my life and I want this to be yours as well. When you exhilarate the heart of your neighbour, and more so that of your sister who has been deprived of everything else and receive only your spiritual exhilaration then you can be sure that it will please God much more than when you offer prayers and long fasts.[2] 

Exhilarating the heart of your neighbour: is there anything more beautiful, more simple, or more accessible to us than this? In my role as matushka I try to draw on my own experiences with women in leadership roles – both priest’s wives and abbesses – from whom I have received so much spiritual exhilaration. I have often observed how people (myself included) look for love, assurance, and motherly care from women in leadership roles in the Church, from priests’ wives, abbesses, and pious older women. So many souls are like sponges, soaking up the soul-cleansing water these holy women offer.  

The women who have had the greatest influence on me are individuals who not only have acquired a high level of virtue through personal struggle but have a great deal of personal experience to draw on when directing and guiding the faithful. I have greatly desired to take all that I saw and heard and learned from such women and infuse it into Holy Lady of Vladimir Mission. While the “water” I offer may be a far cry from their soul-cleansing water, I try to help parishioners feel loved and cared for by doing what I can – chanting, teaching Sunday school, preparing the coffee, etc. Despite my many weaknesses and passions, through the prayers of the holy fathers and mothers, I try.

And somehow, over time, my heart became knit to our people. Whereas once I prayed in the singular, I came to view salvation in terms of “us” and “we.” Suddenly there was no longer “I” and “me.” When any are troubled, I am troubled. When any are joyful, I am joyful. And wishing to transmit to our parishioners something of what I was given in the years of studying theology and living near nuns, I pray, Let me be a conduit, O Lord. For love dictates the sharing of what is good and pure for Your mercy’s sake!

It is not always easy. I don’t always love everyone. There have been times when I have been hurt, pained, wounded, many times when I have felt frustrated and I allowed despondency to weigh me down. But, graciously, those thoughts and feelings are fleeting. One thing always remains, never swept away by the strong current of trial or temptation. It is a deep-rooted yearning for you all to progress.

This is the reason why, “O most excellent”[3] Theophila, my breath caught in my throat the first time I read the following words of the divine Chrysostom. Albeit the saint experienced love for his people in greater depth and far loftier manner than I, still I saw specks of the saint’s words in my own thoughts and feelings and his words greatly moved me.

There is nothing I love more than you, no, not even light itself. I would gladly have my eyes put out ten thousand times over, if it were possible by this means to convert your souls; so much is your salvation dearer to me than light itself. …For where is our hope, if you do not make progress? Where our despondency, if you do excellently? I seem to have wings when I hear anything good of you. Fulfil ye my joy (Phil 2.2). This one thing is the burden of my prayers, that I long for your advancement.[4] 

Perhaps, Theophila, you will read these words and think I embellish. Maybe the deep recesses of my heart are too heavily influenced by the romanticism of an Anne of Green Gables. Perhaps I have untoward boldness to perceive my own thoughts reflected in the great works of the divine Chrysostom. But believe me when I say – as a priest’s wife – these are my frank and honest feelings.

On account of the grace of her husband’s priesthood, the priest’s wife is provoked to tears of joy when those in her husband’s care do well and tears of pity when they are struggling. The grace of the priesthood seeps into the priest’s wife and enshrouds her, covers her. She bears the title presvytera (the feminine rendering of the English word “presbyter”) because in some mystical way she, united to the priest in marriage, participates in this sacred office.

In countries like Greece, it is not uncommon for people to kiss the right hand of the priest’s wife, particularly if she is older. In fact, a contemporary Athonite abbot once said that in his village the priest’s wife was considered the “First Lady” and the children would line up to take her blessing before receiving Holy Communion. In my experience, more often than not, the priest’s wife pulls her hand away before the kiss lands but she understands this as an act of piety, a sign of reverence for the priesthood. It is also an acknowledgement of the great Mysteries of the holy priesthood and holy matrimony.

To close, the life of the priest’s wife is many things. It is a partnership, a role of support for the priest. It is an honour, a role of great responsibility. But above all it is an opportunity to seek the highest things, the loftiest places, the most riches, by lowliness, servitude and prayer with pain of heart, longing for the advancement of those you love. This, Theophila, I wish you to know and remember. It is not a burden. It is an honour and a privilege. I hope and pray that if you and your husband discern the Lord calling you both to this life you will consider it the same.

May the Most Holy Mother of God be with you,

Matushka 

[1] Mt. 20:28.

[2] Sotos Chondropoulos, Saint Nektarios: The Saint of Our Century, (Athens, GR: 1997), p. 195.

[3] Cf. Lk. 1:3.

[4] Chrysostom, Third Homily on the Acts of the Apostles.