Faith: What does it mean to be Orthodox (part 10) – Kamloops This Week

For more information on the Eastern Orthodox Mission to Alaska, see Michael Oleksas excellent book, Orthodox Alaska

Over the course of several columns, I have attempted to provide a view of Church history that expands on the Readers Digest versions, which we too often receive.

The final result has been less a panorama than a few select keyholes into the past, which I hope will open new doors of understanding of Christianity and specifically, of Eastern Orthodoxy.

So much more could be said. This series, in fact, could extend for many more years come.

Early church history can and does consume entire books. The 1,100 years of Byzantine history fills bookshelves. The history of Russia and the other Slavic nations occupy armies of scholars.

And I have barely touched the vast array of topics in Eastern Orthodox theology and spirituality, from iconography to monasticism, from the Jesus prayer to the

Divine Liturgy.

I have decided to leave the details of the above topics to those who can do them a little more justice.

For instance, an overview of Orthodox Church history and teaching can be found in Timothy Wares book The Orthodox Church, which is both authoritative and accessible to the non-scholarly reader.

I would like to end this series on a personal note: how did I end up as an Eastern Orthodox Christian?

What was it about this rather strange faith that originally attracted me and that now commands my devotion and service?

A personal history of my religious background is in order. I was born in the Seychelles, to a Roman Catholic mother and an Anglican father. At the insistence of my mothers parents, I was christened Roman Catholic.

In 1979, we left the Seychelles and spent the next 10 years living in East and Southern Africa. During this period my religious experiences were more Protestant than Catholic.

My father would bring my sister and I to Sunday school at whatever denomination was convenient, and pick us up afterward.

1989 saw us immigrate to Canada. Then, in my early teens, I was tending toward spiritual rebelliousness.

My father, however, insisted that I be confirmed Anglican, in the tradition of his family.

Then, he said, I could do what I wanted. I acquiesced with bad grace. After Confirmation, I dropped out of Christianity and sought the dubious pleasures of a purely secular, hedonistic lifestyle.

By Gods providence, however, I was a very bad hedonist.

Having failed to live a dissolute life, I found myself in an emotional and spiritual crisis. At the time, I was working for a couple who were Evangelical Protestants.

They had been trying to get me to become a Christian for a while, but it was not until I hit bottom that I finally paid attention to their message: God loves you. Otherwise He would not have sent His Son to die for you.

I dedicated my life to Christ from then on. I roamed in Evangelical circles for a while, but was uncomfortable with the hyper-emotionalism.

Finally, I rediscovered my roots and joined the Anglican community of St. Johns in Shaughnessy, Vancouver. It was then I encountered the Orthodox Church.

One night in 1993, I was at a poetry reading in Vancouver, and met a young man, who (like me) was an aspiring poet taking a B.A. in English Literature at University of British Columbia. He invited me and my friends to his church: Saint Herman of Alaska Orthodox Church in Langley.

My first experiences of Orthodoxy were strange.

There were no drums, bass, guitars, or piano; worship was chanted in a cappella harmony. Each service was lit by candles and fragrant with incense.

And most troubling of all, communion was restricted to those who were members of the Orthodox Church.

I struggled for months with this all or nothing mentality.

I was interested in the worship, which claimed to derive from the first century, but I was not sure I wanted to make the commitment required to participate.

Finally, unable to accept the Catholic doctrine of papal infallibility, I had to decide whether the intense, strange Orthodox Church was some weird cult, or the real spiritual home for which I was longing.

Given the significance of the decision, I was rather impulsive.

I read only one book about Orthodoxy (and not a very good one at that). I listened to the witness of my best friend (who became Orthodox before I did) and the loving attitude of St. Hermans community.

I attended more services, got used to the strangeness, and fell in love with the dignity and beauty of Orthodox worship.

I asked questions, thought through the answers, and found them acceptable. I made the commitment.

In fact, I took the right approach, for Eastern Orthodoxy is best encountered through a direct experience with its worship and fellowship.

Newspaper articles are useful as far as they go, but Christianity is less about a text (central as the Bible text is) than the person of Jesus Christ crucified and raised from the dead.

Encountering Eastern Orthodoxy is likewise a personal matter, which means simply meeting and praying with Orthodox Christians with an eye to growing in ones understanding of the community. If you find yourself curious as to what this little-known faith has to offer, the best thing you can do is follow the advice that the apostle Philip offered his friend Nathanael: Come and see!

(John 1:46).

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Faith: What does it mean to be Orthodox (part 10) - Kamloops This Week