Coming home on a Sunday Morning:
Panagia Kremasti, Greece
Katakolo, Greece | October 25, 2026
On Sunday morning, after the Oosterdam docked in Katakolo, we visited Panagia Kremasti, an Orthodox monastery hanging from a cliff in the hills of the western Peloponnese. We arrived while worship was underway. As we climbed the steps up the cliff to the church we could hear the priest through the loudspeakers.
Visiting a church building is always an experience. Offering worship there, with those who do so regularly, is life-giving. This wasn’t a historical reenactment or a presentation for visitors. It was an ordinary Sunday morning in the life of a religious community.
We stood quietly outside the open door of the church on the portico, with locals who were chatting while listening. Using Google Translate in “listening” mode we understood the gist of the priest’s words:
“We have seen the true light, we have received the heavenly spirit. We have found the true indivisible Trinity, worshiping, for this has saved us. To the ages of ages. Amen.”
As the service drew to its conclusion, we heard beautiful voices lifting an Orthodox chant in prayer. Amidst the locals on the portico, the singing filled the church and floated outside, with its distinctive cadence and melody echoing the unbroken chain of worship through time.
Afterwards, as worshippers left, some carried large, flat platters bearing what looked like elaborately decorated sheet cakes. They were covered with crosses and other Christian symbols, carried with care.
We didn’t photograph the people or their offerings. It would have felt intrusive to interrupt such a personal moment of worship, even from a distance.
We learned that these were probably kollyva, traditional Orthodox memorial offerings made principally from boiled wheat. They are blessed during prayers for the departed, and the wheat itself represents the Christian hope of resurrection, recalling Jesus’ words in John 12:24:
“Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”
We came to the monastery hoping to discover something of Greece’s Christian heritage. Instead, we had the privilege of living heritage as we worshiped with others who place their faith in Jesus Christ. We were home.
