A Missing Generation in Orthodox America - Concluding Thoughts

 

That last post didn't complete my story.  I didn't suddenly become holy or righteous or perfect or so happy or whatever people assume happens next.  What did happen was healing.  And I can't really explain how it happened or give you a timetable, but with my return to the Church and intentional and conscious participation in the Church's mysteries, I am healing, I am being saved.  That is salvation.    

As an aside, I haven't received any psychological counseling (which there is nothing wrong with by the way).  I don't take medications, I don't do drugs nor do I drink regularly (except for an occasional glass or two of wine).  I'm not exceedingly wealthy without financial cares.  I say this so that you can understand that there isn't any other explanation for this transformation of the damaged young woman that I once was.  The insane crippling anxiety diminished considerably after my first honest confession. It was and remains a mystery. And while it is unexplainable, I know nothing to be truer. As God as my witness, I'm not lying about this.  He was there, He knows.  And the most astonishing part about this was that I did not expect it to happen.  I didn't walk into that Church knowing that this would be the result.  But it was.  I could breathe. It was God's Grace and it was physically and emotionally perceptible to me. Intangible but tangible at the same time.  It was a gift that I didn't expect much less deserve and it taught me volumes about the love of God.  And as I continue to live within the bosom of the Church, the healing continues. It's not over by any stretch.  

And so my dear readers, if you are estranged from the Church, be a stranger no more. If you are considering entering Orthodoxy from another tradition, you too can be a partaker of this Inexhaustible Cup.  Taste and see that the Lord is good. I was the prodigal daughter and He didn't turn me away.  Instead He waited for me to come home and ran to embrace me.  I swear to you, I'm not making this up and He waits for you too.  Jesus Christ is the Truth and the Truth will set you free.  He did for me.  

   

 

A Missing Generation in Orthodox Christian America - The Return

 

I am a quiet person by nature.  I don't like to speak up in large groups and, for a variety of reasons, I am apprehensive to ask for assistance.  I know some it has to do with the fear of being rejected, and some of it has to do with the fear of being mocked for even asking the question and, truth be told, some of it has to do with flat out pride, as in "I don't need anyone's help".  As I've aged I have made some progress in this area, Glory to God. So for me to reach out to a priest I don't know other than through a person that I happened to randomly meet was a HUGE deal. 

I'll have you know dear reader that I did not immediately call Fr. Gabriel.  The encounter at the lab was in late October of 2002 and I didn't reach out to him until January of 2003.  My anxiety and fear of what he would say to me held me back.  I was terrified of priests.  Growing up, the two priests that I had the most interaction with had been very strict and at least in my recollection as a child, were not forgiving or understanding people.  Whether in reality this was true, I can't tell you for sure, however those were my perceptions.  I hold no ill will towards either of them at all, and as an adult I can understand why they were the way they were.  I pray for both of them daily and I think we oftentimes forget that the clergy are human beings.  They aren't perfect, and especially when you add the additional responsibility of being married with children, I can't even begin to imagine the burdens that they must carry. 

So, it took me about 3 months to muster up the courage to call Fr. Gabriel and set up an appointment to talk with him, but I did it. 

Fr. Gabriel was a small man with a kind presence. He was an unmarried priest-monk without any airs of superiority who simply sat and listened. Not wanting to freak the guy out, I was extremely hesitant to tell him much about my past other that the basics of where I was from, my marital status etc., nothing too personal at all.  I explained that although I had been raised Orthodox, other than what I've learned from reading a few books, I didn't understand much. Fr. Gabriel simply sat and listened and nodded while I spoke.  Finally, when I was done, he began to speak.  He told me how good it was that I came to see him and that the things that I told him were very common to many people my age. He gave me a prayer book to borrow until I bought my own and he told me to come back and we could talk some more. No judging, no condescension, no lecture. 

You'd think after this first meeting that I would have immediately started going to services, but I didn't.  It wasn't until I had spoken to Fr. Gabriel once or twice more that I finally mustered up the courage to go. I really did not want to talk to other people at the church.  I wanted to be left alone to figure some things out and I didn't want to have to explain to other people why I hadn't been going to church for all of those years.  My first conscious and deliberate return date to the Church was February 23, 2003.  Unbeknownst to me at the time, that was also the Sunday of the Prodigal Son. And, about one month later, I found out that I was pregnant with my second child, right around the time of the Feast of the Annunciation.  

There is still more to say about this which will be done in one final post later this week.

  

Forgiveness after Repentance

St. John the Baptist by the hand of Nicholas Papas.  This icon can be purchased at Come and See Icons.



 I am the lamest of lame of bloggers.  Sheesh...I haven't posted anything in over a month and now look where we are!  At the very threshold of Great Lent!  I really dropped the ball on these repentance posts, although how appropriate that I accidently picked today to post, a feast of St. John the Baptist.

I have always wondered (and probably should have taken the time to ask a priest or someone who would know) what the big deal was about St. John the Baptist and why we have so many days in the year that we remember him in the Church.  He has no less than 6 days (7 if you want to include the one in which we honor his parents Zachariah and Elizabeth) dedicated to him. Well it finally dawned on me that perhaps the reason we remember him so often is because of his core message of the Christian faith..."REPENT!"  (It's not a bad thing to be reminded to repent during the course of the year. Seven times is probably not enough for me actually.)

Anyhow, if you are familiar with St. John's story, you know that he was martyred by beheading for his message of repentance.   People generally don't like to be told to repent, although we all think we are St. John and ask others to repent all the time.  And then the crazy part of that is once people do repent, we still don't forgive them. Case in point, Michael Vick.  I just read an article last week of a poll taken that he is currently the most hated professional athlete in America.  If you are not familiar with Mr. Vick, do a quick google of Michael Vick and dog fighting.  He spent 548 days in a federal prison for some pretty heinous crimes involving dogs. However, since being released from prison in May of 2009, at least in the interviews I have seen/read, he seems to be a more mature and changed man. He returned to professional football after serving his time and was voted to the 2011 Pro Bowl (a big deal for an American football player).  And yet in 2012, people still want to hate him.  I'm not saying the guy is a saint, I don't know him personally, but what is it with people asking others to change and then not forgiving them once they do? (Here's a good article from Time U.S. about Michael Vick's journey if you are interested.) 

We all have things in our lives that we are ashamed of, have repented of and do not want to be reminded of because of the pain it causes to our hearts. We are not the same person today as we were yesterday, last year, 10, 20, 30 years ago.  And neither are the people around us.  As we have repented and been forgiven by God and those we have hurt, so must we respect that others have done the same.  Only God knows the sincerity of one's repentance, not you or me.  All I am asked to do is to forgive those who wish to be forgiven (and forgive those who haven't asked too!)  I'm not saying it's easy.  It can be a real struggle sometimes because we like re-live the hurt others have caused and either exalt ourselves over them or use it as an excuse for our behaviours.  Again, I know it's not always that simple, but it is a must-do if you consider yourself to be a Christian.  One of my favorite parables that Christ gives us is the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant.  Read it here from Matthew 18:21-35.  Pretty sobering stuff don't you think?

This Sunday, the day before the Fast begins, is called Forgiveness Sunday in the Orthodox Church.  We ask forgiveness from God and each other. It allows us to start Great Lent with a clean slate and then step into the the Fast ready to repent, only focusing on our own failings and not that of others.  It is an essential step in the journey towards the Feast of the Ressurection of Christ.

Forgive me dear readers if I have offended you today or any day.  May you all have a blessed and fruitful Lenten journey.