Nikolai was born to Dimitrios and Penelope Pappas in Leptokarya, Greece, on the coast of the Aegean Sea near Mount Olympus. He was the middle child of five brothers and sisters. His mother and father owned a bakery. All the children, at one time or another, worked in the bakery.
Even at an early age, he noticed discrimination against minorities in Greece, primarily the indigenous Jewish community and the Muslim minority. Although these two groups shared the same “Public Law” status as the Orthodox Church, rooted in historical treaties such as the 1923 Treaty of Lausanne, Nikolai was puzzled by the separation encouraged by others within the church. For one, Jewish friends his age were not allowed to attend mass with him. As he grew older, the subtle acts of discrimination grew more pronounced, particularly against the Jews. Vandals often target monuments and cemeteries. Perpetrators frequently spray-paint swastikas on these sites or damage headstones. He learned in school that Jews could run for political office, but they often faced insurmountable hurdles in securing such jobs because their national loyalties were suspect. Nikolai didn’t think it was fair. In fact, he considered their attitudes and behavior contrary to universal human kindness and the will of God. He was singled out for his inclusive views and subjected to harassment, but maintained them nevertheless.
He attended elementary and high school in Leptokarya, then the Ecclesiastical Academy of Crete, where he earned his degree in theology. He was ordained a priest and assigned to the Holy Church of the Virgin Mary in Athens. After serving in his parish for seven years, he was transferred into the Brotherhood of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem. There he served in various positions: church secretary, local parish priest, and finance coordinator. Within a few years, he was consecrated as a bishop by the Holy Synod of Jerusalem. Ten years later, he was elected as the Patriarch of Jerusalem. In this capacity, he oversaw ninety churches and 150,000 Greek Orthodox Christians. Pappas never married. Since the 6th century, it has been forbidden in the Greek Church.
Pappas first met Nava’s father Uri Meir, when Pappas provided a safe haven for Israeli citizens from Egyptian militants in southern Israel. In return, the Israeli government constructed a 125-mile security fence along the Egyptian border to stop infiltrators. The Israeli military, led by General Meir, launched a large-scale campaign to rid the Sinai of these militants. There was a tradition of conflict between Orthodox Christians and Jews, but neither Pappas nor Meir held those views. As far as they were concerned, both Jews and Christians were all equals. They were also all God’s children.
As a young priest in Jerusalem, Pappas worked for two years as a researcher at Yad Vashem, Israel’s official Holocaust Museum, while writing a book about the Holocaust. In the mid-90s, tensions once again flared between the Jewish population and the Orthodox church. And once again, Pappas stepped into the middle of the fray, encouraging both his Patriarchal followers and the devotees of Judaism to settle their religious disputes amicably. It took several years of constant compromise, but eventually the tensions lessened. Both sides knew, however, that 2000 years of dispute would not be settled with a simple agreement. But this peace saved the potential for bloodshed. Nava’s father knew it, and so did Pappas.
As a result of their combined peace-seeking efforts, Pappas and Meir became close friends. It was almost unheard of for a Jewish family to have an Orthodox family over for meals, but it happened regularly. Pappas had no children, but his nephews and nieces enjoyed the company of Nava and her brother Samuel. Even Rachel and Jakob Hirsch became friends with Pappas’ extended family. As a Messianic Jew, Nava’s mother, Rachel, felt an immediate affection for Pappas. She understood and appreciated both families’ relationship from a unique position as both Christian and Jew. It was an unusual bond they all shared, but one that endured.
When Uri Meir was killed in a bus bombing in 2000, Pappas was the first to not only send his condolences but appear in person at their front door. He spent the entire 7-day mourning period, known as Shiva, with them and helped light the Yahrzeit memorial candle for Uri each year. Pappas was more than a friend. He was family.
Father Pappas was part of a coalition of Orthodox Christians and Jewish clerics that met in Athens for a rare dialogue on relations between the two ancient faiths. The talks were only the eighth round of formal interfaith dialogue between the two groups since 1972. And so, the talks, which focused on varied themes, including “images of the other in Hellenistic and Judaic traditions” and common Diaspora experiences, still serve an important role in building relationships and changing attitudes.
“These meetings give a common language and dialogue for learning about each other,” Pappas said. “Ultimately, we are one people and should act in accordance with God’s will. It is important because the religious leaders here today are messengers. And it is our duty to take this message and share it with our congregation, be they Jewish or Christian.”
Despite his success within the church, the most significant event in his life was cancer. At age sixty-five, he was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. It was a death sentence. After the hospitals did all they could, he was sent home to die peacefully in the church he helped build. Then one day, without invitation, a priest showed up at his front door: Father Stephen Makris. Stephen was already well known for the books he had written and the life he led at the Saint Markos monastery. Stephen asked if he could pray for him. Pappas welcomed the offer. An hour later, Stephen departed. The next morning, instead of awakening with the dull pain he had learned to live with, Pappas felt much better. The following day, even better. On the third day, he got out of bed and walked to the kitchen. Soon he was taking short walks around the church grounds.
Everyone was amazed. He returned to the doctors who had proclaimed his imminent death. More tests were run. The results: The cancer was gone. Pappas was once again whole and healthy. The church declared it a miracle. So did Pappas.