When sorrow or tension creeps into life, a little prayer is easily performed. Karl Marx said: ‘Religion is the opium of the people.’ He was right: we sometimes can use some sedation. I do secretly say a little prayer, even though I’m not religious. In the past, the Greek world was ruled from Mount Olympus by a handsome collection of gods, each with their own responsibilities. When you had questions about the weather, you  turned to Zeus, who, as the chief god, ruled over earthly matters; his wife Hera took care of marriages, Poseidon watched over the seas, Dionysus provided wine and pleasure and  Demeter was responsible for agriculture. So, for every question, there was a god to be found,  from the twelve major gods to the lesser-known ones.

The gods helped people whenever they felt like it, because they were anything but sweethearts: they didn’t hesitate to turn people into plants, animals or stars. Look up the story of the hyacinth. Greek mythology may be an alluring world full of fairytale stories, but I am glad that I don’t have to fear the wrath of, for example, Zeus, because I was once  overconfident (even though my heart races when he goes on a rampage with thunder and lightning). However, in the ancient world, my cancer would have been labeled as a punishment from the gods.

Sappho (c. 630 – c. 570 BCE), the great poetess of Lesvos, had a special relationship with Aphrodite, the goddess of love, whom she kept bothering with all sorts of soul-searching. As though she were calling a friend, she regularly invoked this goddess in her poems for help, or praised her to the heavens to butter her up. On rare occasions, Sappho felt compelled to turn to other gods, such as Hera, whom she begged to bring her brother Charaxos, a wine merchant who sailed far across the seas, safe and with ships full of riches back to the island.

I do like strong women, such as Aphrodite, but for healing, it would be best to turn to the multitasking Apollo, who was there for many things, including beauty and perfection, shepherds and sailors, and against evil forces like cancer.

In ancient times Lesvos was rich with temples, but how often Sappho visited them remain unknown. The island had various sacred places, of which Messa (temple for Hera, Zeus and Dionysus) and Klopedi (Apollo temple) are relatively well preserved. With a bit of imagination, you still can see priestesses speaking to desperate citizens. Mytilini was known  for its sanctuary of Cybele and that of Apollo, who also had a house in Kapi and near Mithymna. Dionysus resided in Agios Fokas. In those long gone holy places, not only were  prayers and pleas made, but also celebrations took place. Sappho and other writers mention  various famous festivals that were organized in honour of the gods. The beauty contests in the temple of Messa were famous, but there was also plenty of dancing, music-making, singing and sometimes sports. And, of course, heavy drinking.

I don’t need to go to the remnants of those sanctuaries to beg the gods for healing. I don’t believe in that, and moreover, that whole world of gods is a thing of the past. These rulers  have now been replaced by an extensive network of saints. They live in monasteries and  churches, and each village has a large house of worship where the faithful can lay down their devotion and concerns. Additionally, the landscape of Lesvos is plastered with small chapels,  all built for such saints.

Plenty of choices, you would think, from which to choose a saint who cares about me.  But I don’t have much faith in saints either. No matter how strong the faith of the local population is, like in Archangel Michael at the Taxiarchis Monastery in Mandamados, who still regularly performs miracles. I could go kiss his black icon and ask him to make me cancer-free, but I remain pessimistic. I only need to look around at the poverty on this island, despite there being a church on every corner to make a sign of the cross.

If I truly believed, I would find a paradise of saints here on Lesvos who might be able to heal. I will light some candles here and there, even if it’s just to honour a saint. And I’ll give thanks, because I can look back on a beautiful life. Sending a little prayer towards a saint  doesn’t costs anything. And a little opium does help.