Orthodoxy 101: Part 2

Today we had Father Bill, our local Orthodox parish priest, over for lunch. The Lenten fast starts (in a very slow, ease-into-it manner) tomorrow, Sunday, so we feasted on Reuben sandwiches; I made sure they featured extra corned beef. (More on fasting later.) He is a kind, quiet man with an easy demeanor who answered our questions, provided us with direction, and admired our children. One fun fact: He was delighted to learn our daughter's name, as his wife shares both her first and middle names.

Did I mention that I'm now his number 1 fan?

So now, after having our hearts settled somewhat, I'm ready to launch into Part 2 of our Orthodoxy discussion. I'd suggest reading Part 1 first, if you haven't already. Otherwise you might wonder what in the heck is going on.

Shoot, I'm writing this and I'm wondering what in the heck is going on!

Of all your comments, words of encouragement, and questions that you left after that first Orthodoxy post, the most prevalent question was, "OK, so what will you and the kids do?" And now I'm ready to give you an honest, prayerful, thoughtful answer: We are going with him.

Now you need to understand that I fought Stephen's decision for a very, very long time. The Holy Spirit has been working on him (specifically as far as conversion is concerned) for a very long time, and his wife has been pulling him in the exact opposite direction as hard and as long as she possibly could. We have a heritage; I didn't want to mess with that. I was comfortable. When you're a nth-generation anything, it's hard to break away, and it almost physically hurts. I couldn't understand how Stephen could consider it, and I refused to consider it for myself or for my children.

I closed my mind and my heart; I stuck my fingers in my ears and hummed very, very loudly.

I think that I was deluding myself into believing that Steve was just going through a phase. He was searching, and he had stumbled upon the Orthodox church and latched onto it. He kept saying that it "resonated" with him, and I ignored the implications of the word "resonate." I figured he'd open his eyes, realize that he was breathing the foreign scent of incense, and run away screaming, back into the open arms of the Nazarene denomination and his willing, forgiving wife. I would be a saint, an understanding presence who would kiss him and forgive him his temporary wandering.

Except in this scenario, his wife was forgetting her husband's very nature. I was assuming (sorry to keep switching between third and first person--it's just working for me) my husband was a flighty, wandery type of person who didn't put any critical thought or prayer into his decisions. I was assuming my husband was insensitive to the prodding of our God. I was assuming that he was being selfish and self-serving. I was assuming he wasn't taking any of this seriously. I was assuming that I was right.

You know the old joke about assuming, right? It applies here. I had my eyes closed, my heart closed, and I was underestimating my husband's spiritual sensitivity. I wasn't giving him the chance to be the spiritual head of our household, something I vowed to do when I married him by participating in a Christian wedding ceremony. I was ignoring his very nature and, more importantly, the very nature of God.

In short, I wasn't taking him seriously. Or Him.

Say what you will about different denominations, different branches of the Church Universal. There are a lot of misperceptions surrounding all parts of Christianity, be they Orthodox, evangelical, or Roman Catholic. As almost-converts into the Orthodox Church, we're coming against some misperceptions and fears voiced by friends and family. But I assure you: the Holy Spirit is alive within Orthodoxy and within the Case household. We feel a peace, a sense of reassurance, a very clear direction and leading.

It's a huge weight off of our shoulders.

I was relating my decision to some family the other night, and I described a very real encounter I recently had with the Holy Spirit. I was driving, and Stephen's conversion was weighing heavily on my heart, to the point that tears were streaming down my face. I was fighting, and I could feel that I was losing. I didn't want to be a house divided, but I couldn't understand how we could make such a drastic change. (But not really so drastic. We're still going to be Christians. If anything, we'll be super-Christians, as in high church liturgy, lots of standing in lots of services, disciplined fasting, mysticism, and icons. We'll probably even get capes and new superhero saints' names when it's all official.) And as I was selfishly wrestling through all these me-centered questions, an audible voice rang through my jumbled mind: "Christine, just let go. Just step out and trust me. Loosen your grip and follow."

Dang.

I'm surprised I didn't swerve off the road. I was hearing voices, and they told me to become Orthodox. This was a new level of crazy, even for me.

I'll spare you too many gory details. Suffice to say, I was brought (figuratively, as I was driving) to my knees, and I immediately knew I had to follow. I didn't have to understand it all right away, which I realize is a dangerous thing to admit in our post-modern, dissect-it-to-pieces-until-YOU-have-it-pinned-and-YOU-are-comfortable society, but really, I'm not important any more. My mind is feeble, and I need the Lord. And He has directed us. And we will follow.

Yeah, in a lot of ways it sucks, at least now. Some of those to whom we are closest are very hurt by our decision, and this is a hard thing to handle. Father Bill gave us some direction today, and it's going to take work on everyone's part. While we know we are taking the next, God-directed step in our Christian walk, we are also, in some ways, stepping out from our heritage, and this is a hard reality to swallow.

And then, of course, there is the matter of our children. We strive to give them the best Christian upbringing possible, and of course we believe that God knows best. But this local parish, which is Greek Orthodox, is older and small and doesn't have things like Sunday School and other means of Christian education in place, at least not now.

I expressed these concerns in an email I sent to a woman leader in the Orthodox Church, Frederica Mathewes-Green. She and her family, including her three then-teenaged children, converted to Orthodoxy about 15 years ago. Her husband had been an Episcopalian priest, so their conversion story is similar to ours in many ways (well, you know, without the whole "priest" part). I am reading a book of hers, Facing East, which chronicles her conversion, and I had the audacity to go to her website, write her an email, and expect a response. Lo and behold, she wrote back! Here is a snippet of her reply to my child-related questions:

"So this is a tough situation for you. One possibility is that God is going to use you to bring about the change he wants at that church. Instead of coming in like a customer and using those programs, you will be the ones who initiate them. You will be magnets for other young families who are looking at Orthodoxy. Even the drifted-away children of the old churchgoers may get interested thanks to what their parents say. 

"I have heard from others who want to be Orthodox, but are in a parish that seems to be 'dead.' I tell them to think of Elijah who was all alone on a mountain in the desert, and was fed by a raven bringing a bit of bread. If you are in a church and can receive the Eucharist each week, God is sending you by the Holy Spirit that 'bit of bread' that is truly the Body of Christ, and it is all you and your children absolutely have to have to live on. But he hears the desires of your heart, and may have plans to use your effort and prayers to bring about the very thing that you desire."

I like her comparison to Elijah, though Stephen is slow to want to compare ourselves to saintly, Biblical figures. Orthodoxy has a very parish-minded approach; you grow where you are, in spite of any perceived problems or failings, and you allow yourself to be used as an instrument in that congregation. So we won't shop around, drive to Chicago and participate in any convert-driven church there that might seem a little more familiar than ours here. We'll humbly ask that the Lord use us here, and we'll trust Him and His leading.

Easy to say. Hard to do.

Finally, I'll wrap up this rambling discussion (or confessional, whatever) with a little of my knowledge of fasting, since some had also asked about that. The Orthodox view fasting as a spiritual discipline that is used throughout the year to draw one's attention off of oneself and instead onto, quite simply, the Lord. (Duh.) Orthodox fast meat on Wednesdays and all animal products on Fridays, with exceptions throughout the calendar year for special days and feasts. There are four periods of longer fasting throughout the year, too, the most disciplined of which is Lent, which requires fasting of all meat and animal products throughout the entire period. But what you need to know is that these are guidelines. An Orthodox will tell you that really, you do what you can, and the letter of the law is not what is important.

So for Lent Stephen and I are going to fast meat, and he is going to attempt to fast animal products, but since I am nursing Charlotte, I'll still partake of the other animal products (dairy and eggs and the like.) And if we slip or accidentally eat bacon bits or something like that, we'll be fine. The point is that we're denying ourselves in order to humble ourselves before God.

Wow, this post has had a lot of God in it, hasn't it? Usually I'm a lot more pithy. Sorry to get so deep. I'll do something stupid next post, I promise. Keep the comments coming. I've loved hearing your ideas, your perceptions, and your encouragement.

I heart the blogosphere, in short.