Easter 1934 In Esztergom
Things Worth Remembering: Paddy's Night & The Religious Meaning Of Beauty
Happy Easter! Christos anesthi! Alithos anesthi! Christ has risen! He has truly risen! I bring you a memorable blast from the past, Mr. Panos, on Greek Easter. Poor Spiro!
More seriously, in today’s Free Press, I reflect on a magical Easter night passed by Patrick Leigh Fermor in Esztergom, in 1934. From the piece:
Patrick Leigh Fermor, born in 1915 in London, was a war hero, polyglot, and bon vivant—and arguably the greatest travel writer in the English language. Between the Woods and the Water is the second of his three-part masterpiece, recounting the walk he took across Europe when he was not much older than I was at Chartres. It opens on Easter Sunday, 1934.
Young Paddy is crossing the Danube from Czechoslovakia into Hungary, over the bridge at Esztergom, the ecclesial capital of the Magyar people. There he finds a traditional Paschal—that is, Easter—service. His account of it is one of the great feats of descriptive English prose, conjuring a lost world of pomp, piety, elaborate ceremony—the kind of things exiled from the modern world, which has grown embarrassed by them all.
The clatter of hoofs and a jingle of harness had summoned the Mayor to the Cathedral steps, where a scarlet cape had been laid. Clergy and candle-bearers were ceremoniously gathered and when the carriage halted, a flame-coloured figure uncoiled from within and the Cardinal. . . slowly alighted and offered his ringed hand to the assembly.
Leigh Fermor didn’t have a pious bone in his body. But he followed the assembly into the cathedral—and there, on that night of nights, glimpsed an enchanted cosmos. Recalling the scene, he writes with such precision and intensity that you feel immersed in a waking dream. You don’t have to be a believer to be enchanted by the spell he casts.
“Light filled the great building, new constellations of wicks floated in all the chapels, the Paschal Candle was alight in the choir and unwinking stars tipped the candles that stood as tall as lances along the high altar,” he goes on, like an incantation, building an entire world of splendor and transcendence through the accumulation of details. “The Archbishop, white and gold now, and utterly transformed from his scarlet manifestation as Cardinal, was enthroned under an emblazoned canopy.”
You might be thinking: What does this rococo elegance have to do with a poor Nazarene prophet who lived simply, exalted the poor, and died a criminal’s death on a cross? The answer can be found in the words Jesus spoke to Judas after the treasonous disciple chastised Mary for using precious oil to anoint the Lord’s feet. Why not sell that oil and give the money to the poor? Judas asked. Jesus replied: “Leave her alone. She has kept this perfume in preparation for the day of my burial. The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me.”
The point is not that one should neglect the poor. It is sacred ceremony that gives suffering people hope. For the late medieval peasants of Chartres, their cathedral was perhaps the only place they could experience the delights of color and spiritual grandeur, and be reminded that no matter how poor, the Kingdom of God was theirs too.
And in Leigh Fermor’s description, even the high and mighty of Esztergom knew that they were in the presence of the King of Kings and, in a sartorial sense, poured out their finest perfumed oil on his feet. He describes “the coloured doublets of silk and brocade and fur, the gold and silver chains,” and “the gilt spurs, the kalpaks of bearskin and their diamond clasps, and the high plumes of egrets’ and eagles’ and cranes’ feathers.” Leigh Fermor writes that all of it “accorded with the ecclesiastical splendor.”
Here is an aerial image of Esztergom and its cathedral today:
I tell you, if you want to immerse yourself in some of the most beautiful travel writing in the English language, get your hands on Paddy’s travel trilogy: A Time Of Gifts, Between The Woods And The Water, and The Broken Road. It’s his recollection, late in life, of the adventure he had walking across Europe from the Dutch coast to Constantinople in 1933-34.
Look, here, in audio, is the entire description of that Easter night, from Paddy’s book. Cue it up, sit back, and prepare to be transported.
Last night in Budapest, I sat on the banks of the Danube with my friend Grant Currier. If you read Living In Wonder, you will remember him as the unnamed American student who approached me one night in the city of Debrecen, telling me that he is a believing Christian, but he was spiritually dry, and desperate for a sense of wonder. I introduced him to Orthodoxy, and he eventually converted. Here we are last night, drinking sparkling Hungarian wine out by the river after Grant’s first Paschal liturgy. How grateful I am for what God gave me in this man’s friendship!
Walking back home around four a.m., I caught sight of the half-moon in the sky above a street in central Pest. It was just an ordinary street, but the grace there struck me, and reminded me why I love Europe:
One day I’ll come home to America. But not just yet. I wish you all a blessed Pascha.
Christ is risen!
Χριστος ανεστη!
Христос воскресе!
A blessed Easter to all.
To have been in Esztergom at Easter in 1934 must be heavenly, but I'm sure that Easter there today must be lovely. I stopped in Esztergom while riding my motorcycle around Hungary in 1995. I pulled over to take out my map, and a lovely lady heard me and opened her courtyard door and told me to park my motorcycle there. She bade me to take a break and have lunch with her and her husband. We sat down to a long, roughhewn table where she served salami, cheese and a little wine. Because of the wine, she told me I couldn't get back on my motorcycle and instead she insisted that I go explore the town. It was magical for a twenty-five-year-old suburban American-- the Basilica and the other churches and the baroque architecture of the town. To this day, I have this idea of a perfect existence when I am old walking to church on Sundays in a town like Esztergom. Happy Easter! Christ is Risen!