By Fr. John Bakas

I was really hungry and in the mood for some chicken. In the Saint Sophia Cathedral neighborhood the best chicken and fries can be found at Dino’s, a Greek owned fast food restaurant right in the heart of what is now officially and legally known as the “Byzantine—Latino Quarter of Los Angeles.” In addition to our own significant Greek Orthodox presence, we share a geographic area made up mostly of Koreans and Latinos. The Latinos mostly come from all parts of Central America and Mexico. We all peaceably co-exist in our multi-ethnic and multi-religious megalopolis.

I walked the five blocks down Pico Blvd. to Dino’s, greeting neighbors and business owners along the way, and took my place in line at the outdoor order window. The employees and most customers are Spanish speaking. Since I speak Spanish I converse with them in their native language. They are friends and I have known most of them for years. Catching the counterman’s eye, I put in my order, “Cesar, quiero mi plato de pollo regular” (Cesar, let me have my regular chicken order). “Si, como no Padre” (Of course, Father) Cesar responded with a smile.

I took a seat at an outside table by myself and waited. In quick fashion the chicken was brought to me and I began to dig into the juicy treat. Absolutely delicious! There’s chicken and then there’s chicken, as the expression says. There’s nothing better in LA fast food than Dino’s “secret spice recipe” chicken, lovingly nicknamed “Byzantine Red” or “Pollo Rojo” because of its reddish broiled color. I took my first bite when my cell phone rang. Joyce, one of my parishioners called to tell me that her elderly immigrant father had a stroke early that morning and was doing reasonably well in the hospital ICU.

“Can he speak?” I asked. “Yes, he can talk. Here, say hello to him Father.” “Christos Anesti, Petro mou.” “I enthusiastically proclaimed. In Greek, we exchanged the words of paschal cheer, encouragement and prayer. Here was another God moment with the Holy Spirit being present as we called upon the name of the Lord. I told him I would be by as soon as I could for a visit. To close our conversation, I started singing the hymn of Pascha, to somehow bring the joy of the resurrection to Petro’s hospital bed:

“Christos Anesti ek nekron, thanato, thanato patisas”….

“Christos Anesti Petro mou.” “Alithos Anesti Pater” was his loving yet weak voice reply.

The other customers didn’t pay much attention to my unfamiliar words or to my singing. Now, I could continue with my Sunday feast. Before I could swallow the fries I had put into my mouth, a skin head tattooed tough looking fellow wearing a soiled Metallica band with menacing skull design emblazoned t-shirt, walked up to my table and gave me a puzzled threatening look. My appetite was suddenly gone. I felt a tightening in my stomach. A gang member for sure, I thought. His left upper arm tattoo gave him away. MS-13 engraved in a twisted barbed wire motif. MS-13 is a notorious Central American gang.

“En que idioma estabas cantando Padre?” (What language were you singing in, Father?) he asked in an unexpectedly kind voice.

“Estaba hablando y cantando en Griego” (I was speaking and singing in Greek), I answered with a sigh of relief.

“Que clase de idioma es Griego?” (What kind of language is Greek?), he asked. I didn’t know quite what to say as he now sat uninvited at my table. So I answered in a way to hopefully have him leave.

“Es el idioma de Dios….el idioma de la Biblia” (It is the language of God, the language of the Bible). My answer seemed to make a huge impression on him as he pulled out and showed me the silver cross he was wearing under his t-shirt.

“Donde hablan Griego?” (Where do they speak Greek?) Oh boy, now how to answer this guy and get him to leave me alone so I could at least eat some of my meal and get back to the cathedral. The fact that he was wearing a cross reassured me and calmed my anxiety. I had to answer him one way or another.

“Hablan Griego en el pais que se llama Grecia” (They speak Greek in a country called Greece).

Just then he took off his t-shirt and to my sheer shock and amazement, he had the entire map of planet earth tattooed on his chest, back, and sides. With his t-shirt off, he looked like a walking globe. The western hemisphere was on his front and the eastern on his back. I noticed a small inked-in spot where El Salvador would normally be on the map. A remembrance of home, I guessed.

“Muestra me Grecia, Padre” (Show me where Greece is, Father), he insisted.

I lifted up his left arm and taking his right forefinger, I placed it on the left lower side of his rib cage.

“Aqui esta. Un lugar chiquitito pero poderoso” (Here it is. A small but powerful place), I answered as he stretched his neck downward to have a look. He smiled and seemed pleased.

“Padre, mi nombre is Oscar. Por favor ruegue por mi ahora. Lo necesito. (Father, please say a prayer for me right now, I need it)

“Si, como no. Lo quieres en Español?” (Yes, of course. Do you want it in Spanish?), I asked, feeling humbled and moved by the request.

“No Padre, lo quiero en Griego, el idioma de Dios” (No Father, I want it in Greek, the language of God).

Before I could move or say anything, he knelt before me and literally grabbed my right hand and put it on top of his shaved head. Everyone outside the restaurant stood still and silent not understanding what was going on. I was choked with emotion. What a God moment this was for me. I stood up, swallowed several times to keep my voice from cracking, closed my eyes and prayed the Orthodox prayer to the Holy Spirit.

“Vasilef ouranie, paraklite to pnevma tis alithias”….” (O Heavenly King, the Comforter, the Spirit of Truth”).

I finished the prayer in a half trembling voice with a loud AMEN. Oscar stood up, gave me a hug and walked away, taking with him his own personal God moment. When I returned to my meal it was cold. But it was the best tasting chicken I had ever eaten at Dino’s.

Very Reverend John S. Bakas is the Dean of Saint Sophia Cathedral (1324 S. Normandie Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90006, Tel: 323 737-2424). He is also founder of the Byzantine-Latino Quarter Neighborhood & Redevelopment Program in Los Angeles.