I love C. S. Lewis.  If the Professor was a recognized Orthodox saint, I would choose him to be my patron saint.  The funny thing is, I haven’t read a whole lot of his works.  I wouldn’t even say I’ve read much of it.  I started this book and began that book but never finished them.  I read this and that but didn’t really understand what I was reading at the time.  But I love him because he wrote my favorite books in the world, which are the Chronicles of Narnia. 

I have quite the sentimental attachment to this series.  I read the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe for the first time when I was a 6^th-grader.  My oldest brother and I used to have late-night chats where we would talk about school, boys, our family, religion, music, and everything.  When I told him I was reading this book for class, he informed me there were six more of them and they were great and he read them as a kid and this is what each book is about and they’re actually stories based in Christianity and I need to read all of them.  In fact, “I think my old set is somewhere in the garage…”

So we walked down to the garage (in my parents’ house, the garage is just another attic space) and it didn’t take him long to find his old set which he happily gave to me.  I did not continue reading the series at that time.  Not until after his death.

My brother was tragically killed in a car accident.  I was in high school when it happened and he was in his twenties.  If you know what it is to lose someone that close to you, then you know there are no words to express the depth of your sorrow.  Even as the years go by, there is one hole in your heart that will never fully heal.  The Crucifixion and Resurrection – Jesus trampling down death by death – take on a whole new meaning.  The words of the Creed, “we look for the resurrection of the dead”, are spoken from the deepest part of our hearts.

That first year of grief was extremely difficult to say the least.  None of my friends had experienced a loss of this magnitude and I felt very alone.  During that time people would say really horrible things like, “Even things like this happen for a reason” and “God has a plan” and just an unending string of ignorant statements that make no sense, from the mouths of people who are very concerned about you and are only trying to help, but obviously have no clue what kind of demons you’re wrestling with.  Of course I had a crisis of faith.  I think to go through something like that and NOT have a crisis of faith is ridiculous.  If anyone says differently, I would automatically assume one of two things is true: 1. They’re lying or 2. They have never truly experienced death.  I just don’t see how it’s possible your entire way of thinking isn’t completely transformed after experiencing such a complete sadness. 

At some point that year I grew very tired of trying to make sense out of the insensible and I wanted to let it go.  I don’t really know what I was trying to do, but I thought reading the Chronicles of Narnia might help.  I sort of prescribed it to myself as a part of my healing.  So I read all seven books for the first time.  I read the set my brother had given to me, his 12-year old handwriting still visible on the inside cover.  I laughed and I cried, but I mostly cried.  Very bittersweet tears.

I don’t know what reading these books did for me in my grief – perhaps all it did was provide a more light-hearted distraction while dealing with something so serious.  Maybe it reminded me of the basics of Christ and His love, before this imperfect world and life experiences start warping your way of thinking.  Or perhaps I felt that through these books, a bridge had been crossed and my brother and I were having one of our old chats.

I still periodically re-read the series.  I lost count how many times I’ve done so, but each time I feel like I’m visiting an old, dear friend.  My favorite parts remain just as poignant and I still find things I haven’t noticed before.  These books could be badly written, mediocre fantasy stories and I would never know the difference.  To me, they’re perfect.  Lewis, however, was not.  I will never know the man that Lewis was, but I think of him as a friend.  Even if I never read another of his books or I read all of them and don’t understand a single one.  Through the Chronicles of Narnia, he provided a source of comfort to me during the worst experience of my life when no one else could.  I am eternally grateful to him.  I think my brother is too.

In the first service, it had been 11 years since the passing (or as they like to say, the falling asleep) of one of their church members.  They called her by name and the entire congregation sang and prayed for her salvation and peace in the Lord.  How AWESOME is it to know that you are remembered and prayed for after you’re gone – even years after you’re gone??

In the second, it was the 10th anniversary of 9/11.  Thousands of people from all walks of life murdered in a senseless tragedy, and the Church remembered them and prayed for them.  This time, we got down on our knees.  All of us.

In a world where “Oh well, life goes on” seems to be the constant attitude, I find it quite refreshing and humbling to know the dead are never forgotten in the Orthodox Church.  Many are even held in reverance, as evidenced by the hundreds of recognized saints and martyrs, said to be our guides and models as true servants of Christ.

We are all a part of the Body of Christ, even those that have gone before us.  We are all in need of His mercy and grace, even those we can no longer see.  I love that the Orthodox Church acknowledges that.  It’s as if… they do not allow death to have the final say.  Still sad, yes, but never absolute.  Christ conquered death, and at the last, so shall we.

I can’t believe this is going to be the THIRD post on this subject, which is pretty much just me whining rather than having anything to do with Orthodoxy, but honestly… it’s therapeutic and I need it.  So there.

Sunday was our “last” day at our home church and my last day as a band member.  I was doing fine until the sermon.  The sermon was about sacrifice:  What does sacrifice mean to you and what kind of sacrifices are you experiencing to further His glory?  And well… that just hit a little too close to home.

I am well aware that this sacrifice is nothing compared to sacrifices others have made.  Being from a military family, I have the utmost respect and admiration for those who put their country before their own lives and before their families.  I also watch my parents struggle every day with the loss of a son, knowing how deeply I feel the loss and realizing my sorrow could never measure up to theirs.  This thing that I am doing, when I think about it, doesn’t even show up on the sacrificial radar in comparison.

All the same, I am very sad.  I am wondering if I’ve left too soon and I’ve been thinking, “Maybe I should’ve given it another month…”, knowing all too well another month wouldn’t have done any good.  I mean, the end result is the same, and deep down I know I’m as ready as I’ll ever be to leave this place.  Why postpone the inevitable.

I am excited about finally going to the Orthodox Church on a regular basis.  I can’t wait.  I want to take a head-first dive and start soaking it all up.  But at the same time, I have shed many a tear thinking of all the love I am leaving behind.  I must distract myself on a daily basis – playing games, watching movies, reading books, wrestling my dogs… anything to keep me from thinking about it.

I just want both.  In a very Hannah Montana “best of both worlds” kind of way.

<Sigh>

Please pray I will find some peace with this soon.  I know things will be better once we start going to the other church for I will miraculously remember all the reasons why we made this decision in the first place.  Until then I’m afraid I’ll be a mess…

The Connection Crew. Photo by Ande Demetriou.

The above seems to be a common conversation these days.  I haven’t posted in a while because I’ve been trying to enjoy the final days I have left at my home church.  I haven’t thought of much else.  The past month has been quite the roller coaster.  I’ve spent most of it in a kind of “mourning” period, preparing myself to (and actually grieving on some days) leave the church I’ve grown up in, particularly the worship band I am a part of, whose contemporary service stands in direct contrast to the type of worship service I will be going.  As a result my head has been hypocritical and crazy.  Excited, sad, excited, sad, excited, sad… 

It feels remarkably like… breaking up.  You dump the person you’re with because you know it’s the right thing to do.  Perhaps you finally realize you don’t want to marry them.  Or they’re not good for you.  Maybe you’re not good for them.  But as someone you’ve grown very close to and spent alot of good and bad times with, you can’t just shut the feelings off.  They are a part of your history and your history will always be a part of you.  However, now you’re finally free to ask out that cute classmate you’ve been wanting to get to know better…

Lately it’s been much of the same feelings.  Excited about where I’m going, but still looking back at the things I will miss.  Today I find myself in a stranger place than before.  The thought “I can’t get away from this place soon enough” comes to mind.  After asking myself why, I discovered that the place I’m leaving is not the same place I grew to love.  It’s not the same band I’ve spent the last three years with.  It’s not the same church family.  It’s all headed in a new direction.  A new direction that isn’t even an old direction (which is essentially what I’m doing).  The new direction hasn’t really taken shape yet, but it’s already making a huge difference.  This could turn out to be good or bad… but I hate change and I have misgivings.  I hope I’m wrong.  Either way, it won’t have a whole lot to do with me anymore.  Not that it ever did… or ever should.  But I don’t feel it’s appropriate to offer up my thoughts or opinions since I’m on the way out, already standing with one foot in the door, right?  Besides… I don’t really belong here anymore.

Yesterday was the Orthodox feast of the Dormition of the Theotokos.  In other words, it’s recognized as the day the Virgin Mary died.  Last night I lay in bed and after saying a quick prayer to the Lord (I suck at praying by the way), I spoke to her and asked her to watch over us and pray for me for the next couple weeks.  It might be the first words I’ve ever said to her, but it didn’t feel as strange as I was anticipating.  It felt good.  I felt like I was talking to my mom and I fell asleep like that… feeling as if my own mother was standing right there…

 It’s going to be okay.

Normally I try very hard NOT to do anything hard. On any day. This normally turns out to be a hard thing to do.

But today, this thing, was especially hard.

I sort of… turned in my notice… to the church band I’ve been a part of for three years.

Music is very much a part of my life.  I sing and I play.  Since I’ve been out of school, most of this has transpired within a church setting.  But guess what… there are no contemporary worship bands in an Orthodox church.  There’s a choir, yes.  The service is almost entirely sung, yes.  But exactly where does a player fit in??

Seriously, what the heck is a musician supposed to do?  Since discovering music, I feel like I came a long way the day I resolved myself to the fact that church music is all I’ll ever really do.  I’ll never start up a band of my own, I’ll never write my own songs, I’ll never gig around town in bars and cafes, I’ll never sign a record deal… and none of this is because I never want to, but music was never meant to be my profession.  A passion, yes, but not a profession.  I’m not good enough, I don’t practice enough and I’m not competitive enough.  It has to be THE thing you love and want to do.  But there are lots of things I love and want to do.  I decided that, for me, the church was going to be enough.  The one place that fills that void.  The day that realization came was another one of those hard days, but one I was fine with because it’s not supposed to be about me, it’s about serving.  This was how I was supposed to serve my church.  So I get to do something I love and serve my church at the same time??… SCORE.  I’ve found a sense of purpose!

Except…today I realized I’m about to lose that too.  I’ve known it for a long time.  In fact, this band is one of the few things left that still ties us to the Methodist church.  I couldn’t bear to leave.  The mere thought brought tears to my eyes.  I love to play.  I LOVE my fellow band members.  And where could I possibly do this anywhere else…

But I can’t have both.  Tried it for a while.  I thought we could be here on some Sundays and there on others.  It was very short-lived.  It’s like serving two masters or having two full-time jobs.  It may work for a while, but eventually you’re going to have to choose.  You just can’t really be anywhere as long as you’re torn in two.  It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to those around you.

So push came to shove.  And I chose….shove??  I don’t know.  But the point is I can’t continue to explore the Orthodox Church while remaining a regular member of the band.  And well… that’s hard.  I finally decided the time had come when I realized when I’m here, half the time I’m wishing I was over there.  And when I’m over there… I’m over there.

Orthodox worship is not contemporary and it’s not modern.  It’s not an excuse for a Christian-themed concert.  It’s not a chance to show off your talent under the (sometimes very thinly veiled) guise of worshiping.  I’m not saying that’s what all worship bands are about, but in a contemporary service, that’s a very fine, thin, blurry… or whichever kind of line it is that indicates it’s hard to make out.  You have to be very careful and constantly ask yourself:  Is this for me or is this really, TRULY for Him?  Because that doesn’t even seem to be a question in an Orthodox service.  You should hear their hymns.  They’re not like songs, at least not the kind of song with a clear “verse, chorus, bridge” type of following, but just… worship.  Just plain worship.  The genuine kind you don’t have to work so hard at.

So I made a hard decision today.  One I’m still quite torn about.  One I’m sure I will regret at times.  But I cling to one thing:  if I am supposed to do this music thing, God will not leave me out in the cold.  He’ll provide an opportunity as He always has before.  I have no reason not to trust Him now.  He will give me something else to fill that void or… perhaps… just perhaps… He will help me to realize I don’t need it anymore.

AS FAR AS I AM AWARE (and that may not be saying much), Orthodoxy and Methodism are not real different as far as theology goes. We seemingly believe in almost everything they believe.  In fact, I have even heard some people say that John and Charles Wesley were actually Orthodox Christians – they just didn’t know it.  Where the biggest differences are is how the Orthodox display those beliefs in their services, prayer and traditions of the Church.  They are believed to be the Early Church – first established by the apostles themselves and the most prominent Christian faith for hundreds of years until the Great Schism of 1054 – when the Roman Catholics, for several reasons, separated from the rest of the Church.  There are alot of differences between them now.  Then of course the Protestant Reformation when we divided ourselves from the Catholics and so on and so forth…

They hold fast to their traditions.  The prayer and worship is very liturgical and sacramental.  When you attend an Orthodox service, you’re basically in a time warp – what you see and hear is not very different from what you would’ve seen and heard 2000 years ago.  Some of their traditions are dated even way before that, stemming from ancient Jewish/Hebrew ritual, as they hold the belief everything in the Old Testament foretells of the Incarnation (God in the person of Jesus).  I also think it’s very important to know the following before you attend a service, should you ever be curious enough to do so:

• They venerate and revere the saints and the Theotokos (Greek for “Mother of God”, another name for the Virgin Mary).  This is completely foreign to most Protestants.
• The Divine Liturgy is their main service of worship and they believe it to be mirroring what is happening in Heaven.  That is one reason Orthodox churches are decorated with tons of icons - as a constant reminder we are present with God and the saints and we are partaking all together in the worship of Him.
• The focal point of the Liturgy is the Eucharist.  The Methodist tradition normally calls it Communion.  The entire service is centered around this Holy Mystery.  They practice closed Communion, which means if you are not Orthodox you should not partake of it, and they believe it to be the true and actual Body and Blood of Christ.

Coming from the background of Methodism, a much less elegant way I describe the difference between us and them is we’re kind of an essay summary of them. A Cliff’s Notes version.  They’re the whole, complete book.

Now that we’ve gotten the basics out of the way, I feel I can now get down to the nitty gritty.  I will be discussing these points more in detail and offering my current thoughts and opinions, plus tossing many other topics into the internet void.  In the meantime, I’ve posted links to sites with much better information about the Orthodox Church than what I have written here (this is an unscholarly blog after all).

• Frederica Matthews-Green: 12 Things I Wish I’d Known
• Metropolitan Kallistos Ware: The Orthodox Church – An Introduction
• Conciliar Press: What on Earth is the Orthodox Church?

Jay, through the courtesy of the all-powerful world wide web, discovered a little site called Ancient Faith Radio. He began listening to their podcasts and reading books and asking questions about the Methodist church we’ve belonged to our whole lives. Before I even knew what was happening, we were attending our very first Orthodox service (Vespers) and discussing going to the church’s weekly Inquirers class.  So in brief, Jay kind of stumbled upon Orthodoxy like a fortunate accident, whereas I was kidnapped and dragged kicking and screaming into it.

What seems to me like a very short span of time, I have gone from being a perfectly normal, contented Protestant, happy to be ignorant of the rest of the Christian world, to being a ridiculously clumsy Christian wanna-be who just can’t cut it. Everything I thought I knew is changing.

And so I decided to write a blog.  A place where I can freely pick apart the areas of Protestantism that up until a couple years ago I was perfectly fine with, but now really annoy me.  A place I can anguish over my long list of hypocrisies and shortcomings as only a true self-loather can.  And, of course, a place where I can ask the all-important “What does it all mean?” while I’m working this out.

I am on a journey. A long, exhausting journey. If you’re one of two people who might see this blog, please take a look around. Perhaps you will find something related to your own journey. Or perhaps I could learn a thing or two from the wiser you. Otherwise, thanks for stopping by.