Fr. Thomas Colyandro

There is a hurt that comes from the hands of others, and It is the hardest to carry quietly. A friend who became a stranger overnight. Christ knew this road: “When He was reviled, He did not revile in return; When he suffered, He did not threaten, But entrusted himself to him who judges justly” (1 Peter 2:23). And from the cross he whispered, “Father, forgive them, For they know not what they do.” This is nobility: Not the proud refusal to be hurt, But the quiet refusal to hate. I think of...

Late in the evening when the house is still, The quiet can feel like an absence. I have known that darkness and The prayer that comes with it. It makes the heart ache and The mind vacant. There's the Name too. It's hard to whisper in those moments Because the fear of His abandonment feels real And the desire for wisdom seems fake. I've been there. I'll bet you have, too. It makes you close your eyes and Hold your arms tightly across your waist. Eventually .... and There's always an...

My last name was fashioned in Calabria... A crossroads of Greeks and Italians, Arabs and Ottomans, Egyptians and Normans, Jews, Muslims, and a few others. But what's most important, To me at least, are the Romans and Byzantines. My middle name was formed in a family... Over many centuries and Passed from generation to generation In Italy and now America. Worn by tribulation, Buffeted by triumph, and And most importantly, Inspired by saints... Specifically, the one who founded monasticism. My...