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.

Alone and … happy?

The music from my computer plays softly.  The furnace kicks in, offering a steady stream of warm air and adds its own steady hum to that of the humidifier and air purifier already running.  A single candle flickers across the room.  And I sit, wrapped in my most comfortable clothes, literally curled up with a book and a cup of tea.

The computer pings.  Lets me know I have a date with an old friend in March.  And pings again.  This time it means a possible girl’s night this weekend.  As I return to my book, my mind wanders to a discovery  I’ve made over the past few weeks.  I am increasingly contented.

Tonight is no exception.  Few thing would make this evening better.  (A dog, curled up in my lap or by my feet, for example.  Possibly a fire in a fireplace.)  And I think back just a few hours ago.  My current job has brought with it a variety of  people and introduction to life as a single adult.  Growing up, singleness was not “right.”  Every “adult” I knew as a child and teenager was either married or looking to be married.  To be single was a sign that something was inherently wrong with you.  Too tall, too skinny, to fat, to awkward.

This idea is only propagated by the Protestant neglect of monasticism.  Sure, Paul says that it’s better to stay unmarried, but no one ever listens…  There are few, if any, examples of real, quality people who remain single. As I’ve continued my journey into Orthodoxy and life in general, I’ve gained a significant amount  of respect for monastics.  And I see in the lives of the saints solid examples of both married and single adults.

Slowly, and with much resistance, I am beginning to think, “Maybe singleness isn’t that bad after all.”  As residual stress from a previous life passes away, and I sit here, alone, I realize that I’ve never been less alone in my life.

For once, I’m not anxious to change my situation.  I’m excited about where my life is, where it’s heading.  And the rest I’m finding along the way.

F*** it.

In the midst of personal chaos, I was talking w/ a few close friends a few days ago.  S & I talked about religion and questions of faith.  J & I talked about work, stress, and the importance of keeping 1st things 1st.  Sounding boards.  People with whom I can discuss life, stress, work, and ask questions without being judged.  They help me figure my life out.  They give remind me of a perspective I have lost.

J reminded me that I spend too much time trying to figure things out on my own, and not enough time listening to God.  S reminded me of the essentials of faith: not the theology or politics behind it, but the important stuff.  Between the two of them, (and various other conversations, impressions, and revelations), I was once again reminded that there are few things in life that I can control.  I can control my actions, and my responses to life’s events and other people’s stress.  Sometimes, I care too much. I pour myself into what I do, often leaving nothing but questions for myself.  And then, I spend energy trying to answer those questions, striving for the answers I think I want.  When in all actuality, God has placed those answers right under my nose.  I have simply been thinking and striving too much to hear Him.

The ultimate conclusion:  Care, but not to exhaustion.  Think, but not to personal chaos.  And when it all comes crashing down, trust in the One who will ultimately make sense of it all.  Sometimes, “F*** it” really is a good response.  For it stops the cycle of caring too much, thinking to much, and driving oneself crazy…

life

life is funny. Last night, i literally laughed out loud at the irony of various situations… Situations I never would have dreamed of being a part of 5 years ago. Friends I never would have guessed I’d have. Relationships (romantic & otherwise), break-ups, epiphanies, and restorations. Jobs: past & present… Life is a funny, funny thing.

And few know me well enough to understand the depth of the irony. But I enjoy it nonetheless

Coming together…

I’ve been trying to write for over a week–attempting to process friendships, events, current readings, and discussions. But every time I tried, I would write 2 paragraphs, and then stop. No, this isn’t it. I would think, and close my computer, desperate for the words to express what was just at the tip of verbalization…

And perhaps I won’t get much further tonight, but once again, I feel I must try. Perhaps this is the first night it’s all come together–or at least started to.

There are 3 events recently that I’ve longed to process, 4 that consume a good majority of my thoughts: 1) the reading of Thomas Merton’s No Man is an Island, 2) Fr. J’s recent discussion on the Orthodox understanding of original sin and the basics of the Gospel, 3) attending a drag show to see a good friend perform (…4 is said friend and his bf moving away and the subsequent life and work changes as a result…in case you were wondering).

Three incredibly different experiences. Two very usual for me–spiritual reading, worship with what is quickly becoming more and more my family. One…not so usual, perhaps even outright disgusting and revolting to some…but when I think about it, it is just as “me” as the other two. Just not the “me” that is depicted in quite so many words, or ways. Yet, all of last week, drag and Thomas Merton have been linked together in some indefinable way…and something within me lepted Sunday morning as I was trying to pay attention to Fr. J–here lies the key to the connection…but it’s taken yet more reading and time spent in solitude and quietness to listen, to let my heart make the connection and make my mind follow along without interrupting…

To start: The Orthodox understanding of Sin, and Salvation is a little different than what most Protestants would immediately think. Not that they would disagree–they just aren’t the Sunday School answers we are taught as children. To the Orthodox (correct me if I’m wrong…), sin is a sickness. It is a fundamental separation from the knowledge and presence of God as a result of our hearts being unable to see, to know..

“Sin,” says Thomas Merton in No Man is an Island, “strikes at the very depth of our personality. it destroys the one reality on which our true character, identity, and happiness depend: our fundamental orientation to God.” Merton (Catholic monk from KY) would say that our true selves are hidden at such an early age–for numerous reasons–that we CANNOT truly know ourselves unless we first know God. We cannot love unless we know ourselves; we cannot know ourselves unless we find true selves in Christ alone.

Yet, the Orthodox strongly assert that mankind is good…We have not lost the imago dei (image of God) in which God created Adam. If we, as humanity, bear the image of God, then there is something inherently good in every person. Every person has worth, value, and something of God in him/her–whether or not they profess Christ, regardless of their attitude toward God and anything religious. Fr. J reminded his parish of this foundational element to the Orthodox faith when he referenced men of renoun evil (Stalin, Hitler, etc) and reminded us that even these men, regardless of their actions, bear the image of God–there is some bit of good there, hidden as it is to us.

Salvation, therefore, is not just a free ticket to heaven–a promise that we will get out of this evil world, and our corrupt bodies. No, there is nothing wrong with our bodies, nothing inherently evil about the physical world–we do not need to run away from it. Instead, salvation is a healing process. It’s the process of the restoration of our selves –mind, soul, body– to their originally intended orientation: God. Heaven is not the end to a Christian life. Wholeness, healing, restoration–these are the things that Christianity is about. None of which are limited to the realm of the afterlife. Salvation is here, now. Both a past and ever present action–a decision to try to seek a proper orientation to God as well as a continual pursuit of this orientation.

…and there’s where it all stops.  For now.  To try to delve into the complexities of my attitude toward people the Church has historically condemned would make this far too long.  What I will say is that it is intricately tied to the above discussion…particularly the understanding that all people have something of God in them–something about God that we can learn if we’re looking for it.  The key is…are we looking for God?  Or are we looking for sin and corruption?  We will find whatever it is we’re looking for.

“When we love others with His love, we no longer know good or evil…but only good.”  Thomas Merton.