“Her superiors believed the nun, but the place in her vision was a cultivated field and the owner was away in Constantinople, so excavations did not start until September. Within a matter of days the ruins of the ancient temple were discovered, but as more days wore on without finding the Megalochari the islanders lost heart and work stopped. Soon after, a great cholera epidemic struck the island, killing hundreds. The townspeople were frightened, believing they’d brought the epidemic on themselves by not following the Holy Virgin’s instructions. They prayed for forgiveness, resumed excavations, and began rebuilding a church on the unearthed ruins.
“On January 30, 1823, a laborer discovered the Holy Icon of the Megalochari by splitting it in two with his shovel. On one half was the Virgin Mary and on the other half the Archangel Gabriel. It had been buried for almost 850 years, yet when found was virtually undamaged. A miracle in and of itself.
“Sister Pelagia was sainted in 1970.”
Andreas reached for a biscuit, sneaking a peek at his watch as he did. He’d asked for the whole lecture. There was nothing he could do but listen.
“There was another immediate miracle recorded by historians of the time. From the moment the holy icon was discovered no more cases of the epidemic were reported and those suffering with the disease recovered.”
Andreas took a sip of coffee.
“The people of Tinos decided to build a much larger church than the one they’d started. Although they would finish the smaller one, work immediately began on what would become our magnificent Church of Panagia Evangelistria. The construction of the church and much of the eastern part of the complex you see today was completed in less than eight years, virtually all of it during Greece’s War of Independence with Turkey. That was another miraculous achievement, considering Tinos was a poor island and everything was done while it operated a wartime port, sent its young off to fight alongside other Greeks, and struggled to feed thousands of refugees fleeing here from other islands.
“They transported marbles and columns, mainly from ancient temples on the nearby holy island of Delos but also from Tinos’ ancient temple of Poseidon. Marble was mined from our finest quarries and the most famous artisans and technicians of the time worked side by side with unskilled laborers. Passing ships loaded with timber and other building materials generously donated part of their cargo for the construction. And when all seemed lost, the Holy Virgin would provide.”
“By a miracle, I presume,” said Tassos.
Eleni smiled, “Yes, uncle, ‘a miracle.’ At one point during the first years of construction the church faced serious financial difficulties and there seemed no choice but to halt work. A large English frigate, anchored at the time off the town’s beach, was suddenly engulfed in an unexpected storm driving it toward certain destruction on the rocks. The English vice-consul standing on the frigate’s deck saw our church under construction above the town and prayed for salvation from the storm, promising a substantial donation should he be delivered from harm.
“An eyewitness said the storm raged all across the sea but around the frigate there was absolute calm, as if protected by a divine hand. Faithful to his promise, the vice-consul went to the church, gave thanks to the Megalochari and one hundred Spanish pieces of eight to the church treasury. His generosity allowed construction to continue.”
“That’s the sort of money-making miracle Greece could use right now,” said a smiling Andreas.
Eleni’s tone turned sharp. “I’m afraid the Foundation has done just about all that it can for our country.”
Andreas forced a smile. “Uhh, no need to take that personally. It was meant to be funny. A witty observation on our times some might say.”
Eleni cleared her throat. “Sorry, I misunderstood. I thought you might be leading into the purpose for this meeting. I’m a bit sensitive on the subject of ‘financial miracles for Greece,’ it seems they’re always tied to some pitch for the Foundation to help ‘save our country.’”
“For yet another time,” said Tassos.
Eleni nodded. “Yes, the Foundation’s treasury has supported the Greek state in famines, floods, earthquakes, and all manner of other things.”
“As I recall,” said Tassos, “The Foundation offered all of its treasures in support of Greece’s defense against the Italian invasion in World War II.”
“Yes, the Italians commenced war against Greece by sinking the Greek destroyer Elli in a submarine attack in Tinos’ harbor on August 15, 1940, a day dedicated to celebrating the Megalochari. The Foundation responded by dedicating all of its resources toward Italy’s defeat.
“But the Foundation has always been there for our country. Right from the beginning we helped establish its national fleet. We were born out of the same times and our histories are interwoven. The very discovery of the Megalochari was taken as a divine sign that Greece’s fight for independence was just.” She shook her head, “But what our country faces today is well beyond our resources.”
“And just what are those resources?” said Andreas.
Eleni turned to Tassos. “Is that what this meeting is all about?”
“Whoa,” said Andreas. “Greece’s financial problems have nothing to do with why we’re here. I want to know what the Foundation has because we’re worried someone wants to steal it.”
Eleni stared at Andreas. “You can’t be serious.”
“As a matter of fact he is,” said Tassos.
“I can’t believe anyone would try to steal the Megalochari. Yes, during the day it is on display for all to worship and embrace. It must be. That is its purpose. But when not, it is locked in a safe. It is never out of sight or unprotected. Not since it was stolen.”
“Stolen?” said Andreas
Eleni nodded. “Once. One hundred and seventy years ago, on December 15, 1842 to be precise. An ex- convict passing through Tinos saw the holy icon draped in jewels and gold. Around midnight, after everyone was asleep, he used a rope to drop into the church and stole the holy icon, its gold and jewel offerings, and whatever other precious articles he could find.” Eleni crossed herself.
“The next morning the theft was discovered and the town went wild. Patrols scoured the island and rallied Tinians to find the thief. Every available ship circled the island to cut off the thief’s escape.
“He’d made it to the northwestern tip of the island, a quarter-mile from the neighboring island of Andros, and tried to convince some sailors to take him there. But they couldn’t agree on a price. A patrol found him around noon drinking at a spring. They searched him and found silver articles he could not explain, so they brought him to the governor of Tinos for questioning. The thief confessed and showed them where he’d hidden the holy icon and everything else he’d stolen.”
Tassos smiled, “I assume they obtained his cooperation through modern methods of police interrogation.”
“Probably,” smiled Andreas. “Yours.”
“He was sent to prison and died there, insane. Since that robbery, as I said, when not on display the Megalochari is locked in a safe.”
“I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but in the hundred and seventy years since that robbery bad guys have gotten a lot more sophisticated,” said Andreas.
Eleni shrugged. “We’ve had no more problems of that sort.”
“So far. What else does your church have to steal besides the icon?” said Andreas.
She looked at her uncle. “I feel uncomfortable talking about that sort of thing without the permission of my boss. After all the Foundation is a private institution.”
“What is there you can tell me?”
“You still haven’t told me ‘what’s on your mind,’ and since I can’t tell you what ‘else’ might attract a thief without first obtaining my boss’ permission, what if I tell you how the Foundation works? Maybe that will help you with your unstated questions.”
Andreas smiled. “Sounds like a place to start.”
“The founders of the Church of Panagia Evangelistria were forward thinkers who established a separate legal entity making Panagia Evangelistria neither a monastery nor a parish church. Its independent status as part of our Evangelistria Foundation was established by an act of the Greek state in 1835 and confirmed by royal decree in 1851. The Foundation’s operations are run by that ten-member commission I mentioned before, and its administration and management are under the supervision and control of the Greek state, not the Greek Church. Employees are appointed by the commission and paid out of the Foundation’s treasury. The Greek Church does not
