My Orthodox Conversion

Christ is Risen!

I have come to learn that my conversion to Orthodoxy is much different than that of my friends and others I know who have converted. I grew up in a Christian home, in a Christian family. My parents, siblings, and myself attended a Nazarene church and we continued to do so even after my parents divorced, until I was in middle school. Before the divorce, my family lived in the same town at my dear grandma, the one I'm taking care of now. She and I have always been close and sometimes on weekends I would spend the night at her house and go to her Baptist church on Sundays. Even as a kid, I could tell there were big differences between our separate churches, and the seed of dissatisfaction with the Baptist church grew over the years. But I have come to appreciate my gram's church since I've been an adult. My mom, brother and myself attended a non-denominational church for a couple of years before we joined a Congregational church when I was in high school. It turns out that my good friend who is now my godsister attended the ND church at the same time. Mom and I officially joined the Congregational church but my brother fell away. Back then, I couldn't even tell what any of these churches truly believed in and now I can see what they all are lacking. I never studied church history and I was extremely naive.

During the first couple of years of college, I tried to stay in touch with my Congregational church and attend when I could but life just got in the way. Sunday mornings became the only day in which I could sleep in. School and work took up most of my time and at that point, I was living about 30 minutes away from church, instead of three. After earning my A.A. at a community college, I transferred to an evangelical university. The first year was a miserable experience for me and I turned to something else at the expense of my studies: work. Work became my home and a chance to get away from school. My self-identity (and from what other people thought of me) derived from where I worked. But in June 2007 all of that changed. I was fired by my best friend at the time and was devastated. My work friends disappeared and I had nothing but bad grades and few friends at school. I was depressed for a long time and sought help. Now I can say getting fired from that place was the best thing that could have happened to me at that point in my life. I realized just how important school was and turned my life around. When school started in the fall of that year, I was determined to make a fresh start...

Fall '07 was the beginning of what turned out to be my senior year. At that point I wasn't even sure if the school would allow me to graduate. As an English major, the majority of my classes were English classes. Of all the classes I took that fall, I had a required class called CORE 400 and an English class, in which we studied an author of the professor's choosing. CORE 400 was, spiritually, the toughest class I had ever taken and the Orthodox professor who taught the Major Authors class chose study Dostoevsky, who was Russian Orthodox. I had no idea how influential these classes were going to become. On the first day of our Dostoevsky class, our professor told us we would be visiting his Orthodox church as a class on a Sunday early in the semester. He gave us a short history of the church and this was the first time I had ever heard of it. Growing up in my naive, Protestant way, I had only heard of Catholicism as being the "other" church. It was certainly an eye-opening experience on the first day. The coursework itself was tough and I never understood much of what we read. I'm sad to say that I didn't focus on it has much as CORE 400, which literally wiped me out. If I am remembering correctly, most students didn't care about CORE 400 as much I did. My friends had already graduated and I was still feeling the effects of losing my job. No friends, nothing to do, no places to go except school and my spiritual life was non-existent. But I wanted to change that. CORE 400 came along at just the right time. It challenged me to figure out what I really believed in.

 I will never forget Sunday, September 23, 2007. The class met at school so we could carpool and I volunteered to drive some of my classmates. We walked in the side door of Holy Ascension and I knew that I was home. Literally. My head and my heart realized it at the same time. There's no way for me to really explain except to say, I just knew. We walked upstairs into the sanctuary and I was bombarded by how my senses were being used. There were icons everywhere, I heard the chanting, smelled the incense (you could almost taste it too!), and felt for the first time a sense of peace and comfort in my heart. We stayed after church for lunch and then a Q & A session with the priest, Father Joshua, who is now my spiritual father. I wanted to ask him what it took to become Orthodox but I was too shy. I already knew I wanted to convert but didn't say anything for months. I even kept the knowledge from my family because I knew it would cause some problems and kept going back each Sunday.

Please don't get the idea that all of my problems went away overnight, that Orthodoxy was some kind of magical cure for my loneliness and depression. It wasn't. I still struggled with classes and being alone and yet, there was the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. The hour and a half I spent at church on Sundays helped me get through rest of the week. It wasn't until the following January that I told Father Joshua that I wanted to convert. I met with him for catechism classes and sometimes all of us catechumins met together. Another girl from my Dostoevsky class was converting and at this point, four of us from that class are now Orthodox. My school had a branch of Orthodox Christian Fellowship (OCF) and we would usually meet once a week. Oh, how I miss those days!!! At one point, Father asked me about choosing a godparent and I didn't have anybody in mind. He asked my friend Janet on the spot and she said yes. She and her husband got married exactly one year after I was chrismated.

Another day I won't forget is April 26, 2008. It was Holy Saturday that year and I had just experienced my first Holy Week in Orthodoxy. My mom had come down the night before and it was nice having her support. The liturgy that morning included the chrismations and was about three hours long. Unfortunately, Mom had to leave after the service but there was plenty for me to do.

This is one of my favorite pictures.

This was taken after the service by my mom. The baby is my buddy Jonah. He was the first kid I bonded with at Holy Ascension :-) His parents are dear friends of mine.

I am looking at these pictures and can't help but think of how much has changed in four years, and I can't decide what change was for the good and what change was for the bad. As stressful as that time of my life was, it was nothing compared to what I've been experiencing since then. My thoughts and feeling about Orthodoxy have not changed but the way I see myself as being Orthodox has. But that is certainly best for another post.

Until then,

~Staci~

Bright Week

Bright Week is coming to an end. In the Orthodox Tradition, it's the week following Pascha, during which there is no fasting. I've had pizza, loaded with meat and cheese, my bacon & sour cream noodles, the ever-popular corndog, and lots of ice cream. It's no wonder I find myself sluggish and sleepy this week. Nature is waging war on our brick-covered driveway (and winning) so Gram sent me out to tackle the weeds. I now have some sort of allergy/sinus thing/cold. I spend almost half the day sleeping and the other half barely functioning. Gram hasn't been feeling her best either so it's been quite a week. Between Gram and myself, we have our own little pharmacy in the kitchen. And there's plenty of tea for me to drink, unfortunately. I wish my mom was here because she is really good at rubbing the pressure out of my sinuses and the tension out of my neck with Vicks.

The Detroit Red Wings are down 3-1 in their series against the Nashville Predators and tonight is Game 5. My cousins love the Preds so I'm hearing a lot of talk from them. I can't say which would be worse: losing to Nashville or Chicago, which is my brother's favorite team. When the Hawks won the Cup in 2010, my brother sent me a postcard about 2 months later saying, "We won! We won! We won!". I'd like to think that the Wings could come back and win the series but that is too much to hope for, though, unlike any other team, the Red Wings have earned the benefit of the doubt. And I won't even think about it possibly being our captain's last game.

I'm reading a book by John Crowley called, Little, Big, which I really don't understand. (Seriously, somebody needs to read it and tell me what is going on.) I read a paragraph to my gram last night and she said he was probably on drugs when he wrote it. I requested this book a couple of weeks ago via interlibrary loan and I'd hate to give it back on Monday without finishing it. It was a mistake getting it right before Holy Week. I am also trying to catch up on reading my Bible. One of my goals this year is to read the entire Bible. On average, I have to read about 3.5 chapters a day. Since I fell behind at the beginning of Holy Week, I'm having to read several chapters a day. Last night I finished 2 Chronicles, which has the Prayer of King Manasseh at the end of Chapter 36. This is a MUST READ! Part of it says:

"Now therefore, I bow the knee of my heart, begging goodness from You. I have sinned, O Lord, I have sinned, and I know my lawlessness. I ask and beg you: forgive me, O Lord, forgive me, and do not destroy me because of my lawlessness; neither reserve evils for me, or be wrathful forever, nor condemn me to the lowest parts of the earth; for You are the Lord God of those who repent. And in me, though I am unworthy, You will show Your goodness, and will save me according to Your great mercy. Therefore I shall praise You continually all the days of my life, for all the powers of the heavens praise You, and Yours is the glory unto the ages. Amen."


As promised, my next post will be about my conversion to Orthodoxy. It might take more than one post but I haven't decided on that yet. I wish all of my Orthodox friends a blessed Bright Week and my non-Orthodox friends a blessed week.

Until next time,

~Staci~

CHRIST IS RISEN!!!

Christ is Risen!

Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life!

That is the main hymn we sing during the Paschal season. I had a fantastic weekend and would like to share some of the highlights I experienced.

I was able to get to church on Holy Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, due to the kindness and generosity of my grandma and friends. Holy Thursday was a LONG service, about three hours long. Twelve Gospels, detailing the passion of Jesus Christ, were read. I was able to make it to two of the three services on Holy Friday. The afternoon service was only an hour long, probably one of the shortest services of the year. Several Catholic nuns were there with a patient from the local hospital and I was able to speak with them for a few minutes. They were extremely nice and seemed interested in the service. Then I was introduced to a Protestant minister who was visiting. He was very fun to talk to and we talked a lot about my conversion, Pascha, and Ancient Faith Radio, an online Orthodox Radio station. I asked my priest, Fr. John if I could hold a mini vigil and read some psalms before the next service began. My Michigan church has an all-night vigil on Friday nights where people take turns reading from the Psalter until the liturgy begins on Holy Saturday morning. My church here isn't able to do that since there aren't many people to do it. I ended up reading for about an hour and forty minutes. It was a blast!

Since I couldn't go to the liturgy Saturday morning, I tried to sleep in. That didn't work out as well since I was too excited for Pascha. Pascha "Eve" invokes the same reaction from me that Christmas Eve does to little kids. I was driving my grandma CRAZY. My dear friend Deb offered to pick me up and bring me home sometime Sunday. She picked me up and we went to see "October Baby" before the Pascha service. It was better than I thought it would be and much better than what Deb was saying. We arrived at church about an hour before the service was supposed to start and I read some more psalms. The Resurrection service began about 15 minutes late but it was still an AWESOME service. At one point all the lights are turned off, it's quiet and then everybody starts lighting their candles.

This is "Christ is Risen" sung in Greek. My church, though a part of the Greek Orthodox of America, is a mixture of other cultures so we also sing in English, Arabic, and Romanian. Hearing Arabic was a blessing after having been in Morocco, though the dialect is different. The service was followed by a lamb dinner, though I turned down the lamb and ate mostly Feta cheese. (Oh man, do I love Feta cheese!) I knew my friends in Michigan were partying as well so I sent off a bunch of texts to them. After eating, Deb and I went back to her lovely house. Deb had a hard time falling asleep but my lower half crashed before my mind did. After spending a good portion of the weekend on my feet, my lower half was quite worn out.

Deb and I had Danish for breakfast and I drank my lovely iced mocha coffee drink that was blessed in my Pascha basket (think Easter basket but on a larger scale). Agape Vespers was at 11 am followed by an egg hunt for the little kids. I recorded everybody singing, "Christ is Risen" and set it as my ringtone ;-) Deb took me out for lunch to eat pizza. When I was here three years ago for Lent and Pascha, she kept teasing my about pizza during the Fast. She said this was her way of making up for that. We went to her favorite pizza place and ordered the Mega Meat pizza. I had extra cheese added to mine. That pizza had large strips of bacon on it, plus ham and something else I think. The details are fuzzy. After lunch she brought me home and I tried to build up enough energy to go to the grocery store. One of my favorite post-fast meals is my bacon & sour cream noodles. It's really easy to make and super delicious.

I got a call from two of my dearest friends, Lynne and Dave. They were on their way home from church. It was really great to hear from them. I also was able to talk to my mama. She was traveling with my stepdad. Gram had church Sunday night but I stayed home to make my noodles. The bacon took forever to cook but I eventually settled down and watched, "How to Train Your Dragon" which I decided to make it a Pascha tradition. My friends invited me over to watch it last year after Agape Vespers and it's one of my favorite movies. It took awhile for me to finally crash and fall asleep. It was one of those childlike occasions where I was fighting sleep as long as I could.

Today I received a package from my wonderful godparents who sent me more Cadbury Caramel Eggs. They are my favorite Easter candy. They also sent me a miniature espresso maker. They know me SO WELL! I spent most of the day being lazy and hanging out in my pj's until we went over to my uncle's house for dinner. My cousin reintroduced me Jolly Rancher suckers and I am hooked on them now. It feels weird not being in church or having any services to go to during the week. I hope I can make to St. George's feast day next Monday. For the remainder of this week, we are not "allowed" to fast. There are several post-fast meals that I have on my menu. Gram asked me today if I would like creamed chicken on toast. Of course I would ;-)

There are two more things I want to mention about this weekend. 

#1. I kept waiting for somebody to show up. Not anybody in particular, just anybody to show up and say, "I'm here for you, Staci." I'm a little odd sometimes.

#2. I was alone in my pew for two of the three major services this weekend. This second item seem to be a recurring theme in my life. I am the only Orthodox member of my family and I don't expect that to change. I was sitting in church, celebrating with a whole bunch of people, and yet I was alone. 

And on that note, I end this post.

Until next time,

~Staci~  

Holy Week and Pascha

Holy Week: After weeks of preparation and patience, it is finally here. I can't say it's ever really felt like Lent to me since I haven't been surrounded by people "celebrating" Lent and haven't been in church as much as I should. Not having a car this year has been really tough but the situation is of my own making so it would be wrong to complain too much; and I didn't take advantage of the free time I've had during this Lent to do some services at home.

One of my favorite services is the Bridegroom Matins service, done on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday nights. The hymn in the following video is my favorite hymn that we sing during this service. The words are in Russian but we sing it in English.

The lyrics in English are:

‎"Behold, the Bridegroom comes at midnight, and blessed is the servant whom He shall find watching; and again unworthy is he whom He shall find heedless. Beware therefore O my soul do not be weighed down with sleep, lest you be given over to death and be shut out of the kingdom; but rouse yourself crying 'Holy, Holy, Holy art Thou O our God! Through the prayers of the Theotokos have mercy on us!'"

There are several different ways this song can be sung but the above version is my favorite. I miss not being able to go to my home church in Michigan for Bridegroom Matins because our choir there is awesome and they sing this hymn so beautifully.

Holy Week is packed with services, especially towards the end of the week. On Holy Wednesday, my church here has Presanctified Liturgy, Holy Unction and the Service of the Last Supper. On Holy Thursday, there's the Liturgy of St. Basil; and the Holy Passion Service, in which all of the Gospels detailing the Passion of Christ are read. By the time Holy Friday comes around I wish I could live at church for the rest of the weekend. My Michigan church has an all-night Vigil after the Friday evening service. The young adults usually stick around to read the entire Psalter during the night until the liturgy on Holy Saturday starts. I've been able to do this three out of the five Pascha weekends I've been Orthodox. My Illinois church isn't able to hold an all-night Vigil. On Holy Saturday, those who have decided to join the church are chrismated. The Resurrection Service begins around 11:00 in the evening on Saturday. This is the big "Easter" service, though we call it Pascha, which is Greek for "Passover." It lasts about three hours and is followed by a huge dinner/party at the church. The final service on Pascha weekend is Agape Vespers. It's a short service (by Orthodox standards) and one of my other favorite services.

There are many things I could write about Holy Week and Pascha; however, this gives everybody a good idea as to how busy I will be over the next few days. I won't be posting again until next week and it will most likely be about Pascha and this weekend. My four-year anniversary of being Orthodox is coming up at the end of this month and so I'll dedicate a post about my conversion around that time. I wish all of my Orthodox friends a blessed Holy Week and an awesome Pascha. I wish all of my other friends a happy, post-Easter week.

Until next time,

~Staci~

Words

*Disclaimer: I try not to edit my blogs too much. As an English major, I’m used to writing several drafts before letting others read my work. There wouldn’t be any blog if I continued to edit my posts. You have been warned.

I have to apologize to anybody who reads this blog. I find it hard to say what’s on my mind. There are not enough words to fully express myself and therefore, I usually resort to quoting other people. I’m also not good at persuading people. Debates in high school and college were tough for me. Even when my heart and my dreams are on the line, the words I need to say are lost. I think and plan out what I want to say and how I’m going to react but it never ends up being that way. I look back on certain major events in my life and regret the things I said and didn’t say. The day I lost my job in Morocco is one of them. My Facebook page is filled with quotes I wish I had said. After doing some research, the following quotes seem to fit my situation:

"It's always a bit of a struggle to get the words right, whether we're a Hemingway or a few fathoms below his level."~Rene J. Cappon~

and 

"One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter."~James Earl Jones~

I find the first quote a little funny because in the world of English literature, Hemingway is known for being straightforward; he doesn’t mince words or use 20 of them when 5 will do. Part of the problem is the fact that I’m so shy. Thankfully, I’m not as shy as I used to be. Going to Morocco gave me a better idea on what I can and can’t do. But more on Morocco in a later post. I also know that very little of what I have to say bears little weight to anybody. What’s the point in saying, “I love you” when the person you say it to doesn’t love you back? It’s not right to say something just to say it and I know that but I do that anyway. During Lent, we Orthodox pray the “Prayer of St. Ephraim” in our daily prayers and at the end of most services:

“O Lord and Master of my life, take from me the spirit of sloth, despair, lust of power and idle talk. But give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience, and love to Thy servant. Yea, O Lord and King, grant me to see my own transgression, and not to judge my brother, for blessed art Thou, unto ages of ages. Amen.

The part about idle talk always reminds me to keep my words in check, that it’s not necessary to say everything all of the time. Words can hurt, even if they’re not meant to. I’m not a good judge at deciding when it’s proper to talk and when it’s proper to stay silent. Lent is a time for silent preparation, fasting, a stricter prayer rule, and more time spent in church. None of which I have been doing very well.


This post has turned into a mini rant. All sorts of thoughts are running through my mind. I’m afraid to even reread what I’ve just written. I’m tired and running on fumes. (Pardon the cliché!) It’s been a stressful week for some reason. Western Easter is this weekend but our Easter, Pascha, isn’t until the 15th. (For those who don’t know, I am an Orthodox Christian and we have a different method of determining Easter.) However, nobody in my family is Orthodox and that makes things stressful at the best of times. But Lent is 1000 times harder, though I haven’t done as good of a job as in years past. And I’m 1000 times lonelier trying to do this by myself. Honestly, sometimes it doesn’t even feel like Lent. Lord, have mercy! This week, I find myself needing more “me time” and more time to get away from the daily stressors that drive me crazy. And that makes me feel guilty, which adds to my stress. It’s a vicious circle. I miss so many things, living in Michigan, being close to my mom (and the Great Lakes!), and most of all, my old church. I tried living in Illinois after college but moved back after one year and three months. That may not have been the best decision but it allowed me to meet and get close to some of the nicest people I have ever met. And yet, 2.5 years after leaving, I come back. I know I’m here for a good reason but sometimes I wish things had turned out differently. 


I live in a village of 900 people, the last I checked. There is a small grocery store, gas station, drugstore, restaurant/bar, and a wonderful library. Every small town needs a library like this one. There’s really nothing to do and nowhere to go in the evening and I’ve never been one for the bar scene. You have to drive 20-30 minutes to get anywhere, and since I don’t have my car, I’m stuck in town. The weather’s been absolutely gorgeous since I’ve been down and it’s nice to get fresh air without freezing. In Morocco, you have to be willing to walk at least a little bit to get anything. I got used to walking a long distance with a bag or two of groceries or stuff that I collected at the souk (marketplace). It would be nice to get back into that kind of routine. Of course, having my bike here would be nice too, but my mom ran over the front tire with her jeep. 


Even though I’ve drifted off topic there is another quote that I would like to share:

"For any statement to be authentic or legitimate, the statement has to be true, it has to be necessary, and it has to be kind...this is a good set of criteria by which to judge any statement, made by anyone, at any time. Conversely, if by applying these criteria we find we have nothing left to say, then we need to review our entire mode of speaking." ~Archimandrite Meletios Webber~

This sums up the lesson that I’m trying to teach myself every day. There’s always an urge to call up a friend and complain about my life, or send an email to somebody who doesn’t want to hear what I have to say. It’s all about deciding what needs to be said and what doesn’t.


I’d like to have another post up before our Holy Week begins but that might not be possible. 


Until then,


~Staci~