Realization

It’s come to my attention that this is the first year since I got back from working at An Tobar Nua that I have not found some reason to return.    This makes me sad.  I miss that place.  It’s true, a part of my heart will always reside in that land of rain and the most gorgeous sunny days ever.  I have the sudden urge to just up and go.  Use the money I’ve saved for grad school and travel Ireland.  Thankfully, the practical side of me kicks in well before I start looking at plane tickets.

I must be content with my box of Lyons tea, and looking at pictures.  …sigh…

Orthodoxy and Simplicity

Anyone who knows me well or has read through the pages of this blog know that I have long struggled with the desire for a slower, simpler life.  There is something about our culture’s desire to do everything at top speed that seems to grate against my inner most being. Perhaps this dissonance comes from my own need to achieve.   I try to be all things to all people, often at the expense of my own needs and desires.  But one can only run about frantically trying to make everyone happy for so long before the hectic pace of life takes its toll.

In the light of the crazy existence I call my life, I find myself drawn to simplicity.  I find myself, at times, standing alone in a quiet dark room, or turning off the radio as I make a late-night journey home.  For it is only after the distractions of modern life have disappeared that I can truly breathe.  The chaos around me has died away and I am left with all that really matters.

It is in this solitude that I feel completely at home, surrounded by the Father’s loving arms.  It is in this silence that I hear the message of love and unconditional acceptance I work so hard to earn.

I have found this same sense of quiet serenity in the context of liturgical worship.  There is something incredibly soothing in the familiar chants and motions of Orthodox worship, particularly  in Divine Liturgy.  In my darkest hours, I would make a point to go to liturgy or vespers because I knew it was here I would fin rest.  There is something sublimely soothing to walk from my frantic life into a dark room with the subtle scent of incense.  Listening to the slow, melodic chants of Orthodox prayers, I quite literally felt a sigh of relief.  Once again, I would  breathe deep and bask in the serenity of the moment.

I am drawn to Orthodoxy because essentially, it is a very simple faith.  In a day and age where everything around me is constantly changing, Orthodoxy remains constant.  It is a faith that has withstood the test of time, not constantly changing in order to suit the whims of an ever changing culture.  While the problems may have changed over the years, the solution has not.  Christ is there, sitting on the throne of grace, calling out to humanity:

“Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

Questions: Orthodoxy Vs Protestantism

Perhaps one of the most salient questions I’ve been asked as loved-ones struggle with my decision to “convert” to Orthodoxy was posed in a rather interesting way.

“I just don’t understand the difference between Orthodoxy and Christianity.”

Honestly, my initial reaction: “that’s funny, because neither do I.”  While it may be a smart-alec response for a very serious issue, I think it hits at a the key answer to the question: Orthodoxy IS Christianity.

While it can look like a completely different religion to  many Protestants who are experiencing it (or other forms of liturgical Christianity) for the first time, Orthodoxy has the same basic theology: Jesus Christ, only begotten son of God, born of a Virgin, crucified, buried and resurrected.

I admit that the faith is much more complex than the abbreviated version seen above.  However, I believe it points out the key answer to the question:

Orthodoxy is Christianity.

I have not departed from the religion of my youth.  I have forsaken none of the Truth I have been taught in my childhood by my parents and numerous others.  If anything, I have found my home: a place where my faith has been fleshed out over the course of 2,000 years.

The plunge…

I recently decided to take “the plunge.”  Thus, I am beginning my first week as a catechumen in the Orthodox church.  It’s only taken me 2 years & 3 months to do it, but who’s counting?

Why so long?  Because I am not one to rush into things.  I do things in my own time, at my own pace.  I will not often be rushed, but I do not often wish to wait either.  (insert childhood story here.)  I’m ready when I’m ready and very few will rush or hinder me.

Why  now?  Because it’s time.  Because over the past year I’ve become increasingly aware that I do not wish to leave the Orthodox church (particularly my parish, whom I have grown quite fond of).  Not only do I not wish to leave, but I can’t imagine myself feeling fully at home (theologically) anywhere else.  I kept putting off the decision until I had time to think, time to process, and time to devote to plunging the depths of the Orthodox faith.  But I realized that ultimately, a decision must be made.  A step must be taken.  There is much more to this whole Orthodox thing, but there comes a point where it is hard to go any further without first making a commitment.

However, I realize, perhaps now more than ever how this decision affects and confuses those I love.  To many, Orthodoxy is a complete mystery.  To others, it’s another type of Catholicism.  And to many, it is full of practices that border on idolatry and heresy.  While I do not profess to have the answers to everything, I have decided to take the time over the coming weeks to answer some of the salient questions I have been asked recently.  I realized long ago that I could not make a proper decision about Orthodoxy unless I felt confident that I could explain what I believed to those who love me enough to ask questions.  After 2 years of prayer–individual and corporate, in addition to reading and seeking to understand the Orthodox faith, I am finally at that place.

Over the course of the next few weeks/months, I will attempt to address a few of the questions that have come from those close to me.

Confessions of a (sick) workaholic

So I’m sitting on my bed, well, it’s more like reclining on my bed, feeling guilty for not being at work.  Why?  because I’m “sick.”   Not “sick” I just didn’t want to go in today, but rather “sick” slowly recoverying from perhaps one of the worst 72 hrs I can remember (my roommate is astonished I actually remember those 72 hours…I do…all 15 I was awake for.)  It’s the “sick” that when I wake up in the morning, the sun is shining and finally, finally I feel normal.  Well, at least almost normal.  But as I go through my mornig routine, almost turns to kinda turns to not really.  In the space fo 3 hours that feeling of “I’m back!” turns to “ug”–no engery left even for the slient h.  And thus I retreat, defeated, exhausted, back to bed.  And down for a nap I go.  But I’m not a nap taker and I’ve done nothing BUT sleep (or lie in a semi comatose state) for the past 3 days…So of course I don’t sleep.  Which brings me here.  I’m sitting (kinda) on this bed of mine, attempting make use of this time by catching up on the school work I had planned to do over the weekend, feeling guilty that I’m not at work.  I mean, I’m doing the same thing here that I would be there: sitting (kinda) in front of a computer.  My job’s not terribly strenious…of course…it does involve that whole people interaction bit.  Which tends to come back after the capacity to sit up straight.  And since I haven’t quite mastered that whole sitting up bit, I guess I’m stuck here…in bed…feeling guilty ’cause I feel fine (kinda).