# 34 | A Priest, A Brothel, And The Measure Of Mercy

A quiet blessing rounds a corner and meets a room most people would avoid. What follows isn’t scandal or retreat. It’s a living lesson in compassion as Elder Porphyrios steps into a brothel during a house blessing, stands firm at the door, and insists that every soul deserves the dignity of a kiss to the cross. We share the story with care and then open it up—what does worthiness mean when the measure is not reputation but the heart?

We explore why mercy needs a body, not just beliefs. The elder’s calm presence reframes the moment: holiness isn’t fragile, and grace doesn’t shrink from hard places. As the women gather, he sings with joy, not hesitation, and the room changes. We talk about how that move—showing up without judgement—translates beyond faith: to shelters, clinics, prisons, offices, and family tables. You’ll hear why kindness still shocks, how labels narrow our sight, and why the simplest acts of respect can reset a day.

We also turn the light inward. Borrowing from Dostoevsky—everyone wants to change the world, no one wants to change themselves—we ask what it takes to start with our own habits. The conversation gets practical: noticing snap judgements before they harden, choosing words that bless rather than bruise, and practising presence where we feel most awkward. This is a story about love that does the harder thing, and the quiet courage required to offer it.

If this resonates, share it with someone who needs a reminder that they are not beyond the circle of care. Subscribe for more thoughtful stories, leave a review to help others find the show, and tell us: where will you choose mercy over judgement this week?

Transcript

Welcome And Blessing

SPEAKER_00 0:01

Sunny Bunani. Welcome to the Sunny Banana. I see you. Welcome today, wherever you're coming from, however you're coming from, you are welcome. And may God bless you. And may God bless this message. Today I don't really have a message that comes from me today, but a message that a good friend of mine from the United States of America, Thaddeus, who I've had on the show before, who spoke beautifully about his beliefs and faith and his mental difficulties in the past and how faith has brought him through. Thaddeus posted this beautiful little story. I'm just going to read it, and if I have anything to offer, I might say something at the end. But I just want to read this to you about an elder Porphyrios. Porphyrios Elder Porphyrios. All my Greek listeners, I hope that's okay. This is a story about him. Once upon a time Elder Porfirios went to a brothel. In years past, on the feast of Theophany, we had the custom of blessing homes. One year I, too, went out to do the blessing. I would knock on the doors of the apartments, they would open to me, and I would enter chanting When you were baptized in the Jordan, O Lord. As I was walking along Maisanos Street, I noticed an iron door. I opened it and went into the courtyard, which was full of tangerine, orange and lemon trees, and then made my way toward the staircase. It was an exterior staircase leading upward with a basement below. I went up the stairs, knocked on the door, and a woman appeared. When she opened the door, I began, as was my custom. When you were baptized in the Jordan, O Lord, she stopped me abruptly. Meanwhile, she had been heard, and from the corridor to the right and left girls began coming out of their rooms. I understand. I had ended up in a brothel, I said to myself. The woman stepped in front of me to block my way. Leave, she said to me, it isn't proper for these girls to kiss the cross. Let me kiss the cross, and then please leave. I then took on a serious, reproachful tone and said to her, I cannot leave. I am a priest, I cannot leave. I came here to bless. Yes, but it isn't proper for them to kiss the cross. But we do not know whether it's proper for them or for you to kiss the cross. Because if God were to ask me and require me to say who is worthy to kiss the cross, the girls or you, I might say, The girls are worthy to kiss the cross, and not you. Their souls are better than yours. At that moment she blushed slightly. Then I said to her, let the girls kiss the cross. I motioned for them to come closer. I chanted When you were baptized in the Jordan, O Lord, more melodiously than before, because I felt a joy within me that God had arranged things so that I might come to these souls as well. They all kissed the cross. They were all groomed, wearing colourful skirts and so on. And I said to them, My children, many years to you, God loves us all. He is very good and makes his reign fall on the just and the unjust. We all have him as our Father, and God cares for every one of us. We only need to take care to come to know him, to love him, and to become good. Love him, and you will see how happy you will be. They looked at me with wonder. Something touched their weary little souls, and at the end I said to them, I am glad that God counted me worthy to come today and bless you many years to you. Many years, they replied, and I left. And I am loath to add anything to that beautiful story that is filled with love, that is filled with purpose that is filled with duty. And I guess the only thing I will add to this, I I will say that it is our duty to love people. Not to judge. I think that's the end of the story there. Not to judge. And the only person that we need to hold the light on is ourselves. I guess I want to end with the Alexander Soltsonitsyn. Everybody sorry, it's Fidor Dostoevsky. Correction. Dostoevsky said this. Everybody wants to change the world. But nobody wants to change themselves. If we always trying to change others, we forget the work we need to do with ourselves. And I guess Father Elder Porfirios is saying here that everyone deserves love. You, myself, the people we don't like, the people we don't think need love. And I think I'm babbling on too much, but that is it. I hope you enjoyed that lovely story which is from the life and words of Elder Porfirios. Sunny Bonani. Thank you for listening to the Sunny Bonana. I see you.