By Thom Nickels

The word ‘orthodoxy’ can conjure up foul associations. There’s Bertrand Russell’s famous quote,

“Orthodoxy is the grave of intelligence,”

which covers any sort of rigid or right thinking at the expense of creative thought.

Orthodoxy (lower case) implies a strict adherence to tradition against which Modernism doesn’t stand a chance. In Judaism, Orthodoxy is seen as that religion’s supreme, most traditional expression, its un-reformed essence. In Christianity, Orthodoxy which has never had a Second Vatican Council or anything approaching a Novus Ordo – Divine Liturgy with lay ministers and Protestant-style hymns – is a window into the ancient Church. In fact, you could search the world for a modern young Orthodox priest with a guitar and a penchant for humming “On Eagles Wings,” but chances are you wouldn’t find one. Priests like that never get a chance to bloom in Orthodoxy; or, if one was discovered in seminary, he’d be sent packing or be told to switch hit to the local Catholic Franciscans.

In the Orthodox Church there are no activist organizations of lay women clamoring to be priests (although Metropolitan Kallistos Ware admits that at some point in time the Church may have to consider the question). To date Orthodox women, however feminist their inclinations, haven’t splintered off and gotten themselves “ordained” by renegade bishops.

There are no Orthodox lay liturgists trying to reinvent or modernize the Divine Liturgy, either. In the eyes of the world, Orthodox Christianity has always been relegated to second tier status, taking a back seat to Catholicism’s power, even in this era of clergy sex abuse. As a box to be checked on applications and questionnaires, where religious affiliation means Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, or other , Orthodoxy barely exists at all.

My first glimpse of Orthodoxy was at the 1964-1965 New York Worlds Fair. I’d gone to the Fair with my family primarily to visit the Vatican Pavilion, a modernist white building that had a futuristic look and that effectively mirrored the reformatting of Catholicism taking place in Rome at the Second Vatican Council. Inside the Pavilion was Michelangelo’s treasure, The Pieta, a major Fair exhibit that attracted people of all faiths. Inside the Pavilion there was also the modernist Chapel of the Good Shepard with its minimalist altar table, glass stained windows but not much else.

The chapel’s over-wrought simplicity made an impression on me. Not only did this new Catholic structure have a decidedly Presbyterian style, all the signature Catholic elements were missing except a crucifix. The intent seemed to be the creation of an interdenominational chapel where everybody would be made to feel at home. This was a Catholic chapel that didn’t want to offend Protestants by looking “too Catholic.”

At the time, I sensed that the chapel design hinted at coming changes in Catholic Church architecture.I was right. Most visitors, distracted by the media hoopla surrounding The Pieta (the Vatican Pavilion was the second most popular exhibit at the Fair, attracting some 27,020,857 guests) probably didn’t dwell on this fact that much. My sense is that many Catholics then excused minimalist, Protestant looking church interiors if there was enough stained glass to take the mind off what had been eliminated.

Not far from the Pavilion was a small log cabin church with a three-bar cross on top. I knew the cross to be Russian Orthodox. The chapel was a replica of the first Orthodox chapel in America built in the 1800s at Fort Hood, California. While the rustic exterior put one in mind of Lincoln Logs or Lewis and Clark expeditions, the interior – we had to peer through the windows because the chapel was locked – revealed something startling: a small chandelier illuminating a colorful iconostasis in the center of which were circles of electric candles and a replica of the framed (miraculous) icon of Our Lady of Kazan.

The beauty of that small log cabin church far surpassed anything in the great white Pavilion monolith with its cold and empty Chapel of the Good Shepard.

It was then that I asked myself: What is this thing called Orthodoxy? Growing up, I was taught by the nuns that only Catholics had the true sacrament, the actual Body and Blood of Christ or the Real Presence; Catholics were the only ones with saints, the Mass, priests, and churches that looked like real holy places.

Orthodoxy, I found, also had the Mass (the Divine Liturgy), canonized saints, monks, nuns, priests, vestments, miters—everything in fact that Catholicism had, even miracle stories, bleeding and myrrh streaming images, as well as visions of the Virgin Mary.

This was confusing stuff for a committed, 12-year old Catholic. If there is only one true Church, why would the Virgin Mary make alleged appearances over the dome of a Coptic Orthodox church in Zeitoun, Egypt in front of hundreds of thousands of people? These series of apparitions, lasting from 1968 to 1971, spontaneously healed many people who witnessed the lady in light move around the dome of the church. Why would the bodies of some Orthodox saints remain incorrupt in the same manner as Saint Catherine Laboure’s body in Paris? For every Catholic saint or miracle story there is an Orthodox counterpart.

Is the Orthodox Church the true “other” lung of the whole Church, and not the schismatic renegades they’re made out to be by some Catholic traditionalists? In the eyes of God, where the divide and conquer nature of human politics does not exist – to the chagrin of strict doctrinaire prelates, both East and West, steeped in charges of heresy or schism – are both Churches already really one and united “under the skin” despite the lack of an official agreement?

As the abbot of St. Tikhon’s monastery near Scranton told me last year:

“It was the Western, or Catholic Church, that began changing everything.”

These changes not only included the Flioque clause in the Nicene Creed but the way Christians crossed themselves. The original method of crossing oneself was the Orthodox way, right to left, but Rome changed it from left to right in the 8th century.

A change like this seems a small thing but it can also be indicative of something deeper, like a tendency to re-invent and denude until centuries later you get something like the Second Vatican Council, where the changes were so drastic that if a Catholic from 1947 could come back he wouldn’t even recognize today’s Catholic Mass as being Catholic.

When former Byzantine Catholic Hieromonk and theologian Fr. Gabriel Bunge converted to the Orthodox Church, it generated a lot of press. (Conversions work both ways and can be a lot like musical chairs: In 2009, Orthodox theologian and writer John Mack converted to Eastern Catholicism although shortly after this he divorced his wife and left the priesthood).

On his conversion to Orthodoxy, Fr. Bunge said:

“…Many people thought that the two Churches were moving towards each other and would eventually meet at one point. But as I was growing older and learning some things deeper, I stopped believing in the possibility of the reconciliation of two Churches in terms of the divine services and institutional unity. What was I to do? I could only go on searching for this unity on my own, individually, restoring it in one separate soul, mine. I could not do more. I just followed my conscience, and came to Orthodoxy.”

I see the wisdom in this statement, especially since my conversion to Orthodoxy on April 8th of this year. Prior to my first communion at an Orthodox parish in Northern Liberties, I had many conversations with members of the congregation in which more than several freely admitted that they often attend Catholic churches when they are away on vacation and when they cannot find an Orthodox church.

Not only do they attend Catholic churches but they receive communion in these churches, a fact which may be frowned upon by their pastor or bishop but a fact nevertheless. The Orthodox people I spoke with felt they could relate to Catholics because Catholics believe in the Real Presence. “It’s all about the Eucharist,” as one Orthodox lady told me.

“This is why I come to church, to receive the Eucharist. The Eucharist is not a symbol or a memorial, it is real.”

Comments like these bypass the usual East-West schism rhetoric having to do with the Filioque, or questions related to the primacy of the Bishop of Rome. It’s not that many or most Orthodox don’t think that these questions are important; many do. But for the ordinary people in the pews, ie. people who are not theologians, priests or monks, it is the Eucharist that stands out as the centerpiece of spiritual life. So yes, a certain strange unity of the heart between the two churches has already taken place.

I came to Orthodoxy from Catholicism partially because of its unchanged liturgy; because the Orthodox Church, in its wisdom, never embarked on a path of liturgical self-destruction. It was not enough for me to attend the Traditional Catholic Latin Mass once a month when the bulk of the Catholic Church remains in the Novus Ordo camp. Even while attending the TLM at beautiful Saint Paul’s church in South Philadelphia, one could not escape the reality that this Mass was a minority Mass, primarily a footnote to the Novus Ordo.

It pained me to realize that the TLM was seen more as a specialized event and not part of the regular lists of masses in most Catholic churches.

In the Orthodox Church there is always the traditional liturgy; the rubrics never wax or wane depending on the latest liturgical fashion. There’s no need for committees to advertise or promote tradition.Tradition is already there, and it’s not going anywhere. It is, as they say, the Church.

Since becoming Orthodox, gone are the endless personal narratives that would run in my head whenever I’d attend either a TLM or the Novus Ordo. Those narratives concentrated on what had been lost or thrown away.

In the Orthodox Church, tradition is not shuffled in and shuffled out, like a road show trekking onto Buffalo.

Source

I grew up in a fundamentalist “Bible church” that loved God and had a clear desire to serve him, but I questioned why my church was so isolated from other Christians. By the time I graduated from high school I found something in the more historical faith of Reformed Presbyterianism but still wondered what exactly transpired between the first century A.D. and 1517. During my first year of college, I attended a Reformed Church on Sunday mornings and a Roman Catholic Church on Sunday evenings. My theology was still Reformed, but I longed for rich, liturgical worship saturated in Scripture.

A year later, I encountered Eastern Orthodoxy and knew immediately that this was where I belonged. General dissatisfaction with evangelicalism led me to search for the historic church of liturgy and sacraments. And while Reformed Christianity sometimes has these elements, I found the fullness of them only within the Orthodox Church.

Protestantism’s narrative of church history left me dissatisfied. In particular, what happened between the first century church and the dawn of the Reformation? Evangelicals essentially told me that the Christian church fell into heresy right away and did not recover until years later when Martin Luther rescued the faith from the hands of Roman Catholicism. Reformed thinking is more generous to the early church, but still takes significant pause at what transpired between Jerusalem and Geneva.

Orthodoxy claims that the church has been here all along, unchanged, and still relevant. Orthodoxy is both “right belief” and “right worship” in the context of apostolic succession. In other words, someone has to preserve the faith (duly ordained bishops), and the right faith must be preserved (Orthodoxy). Christ promised to build his church (singular),

“and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.”

Evangelical and Reformed Christianity left me dissatisfied by their liturgy. All churches inescapably have a liturgy, but many evangelicals say that formal liturgical worship is “canned,” “dry,” or pharisaical. The Orthodox Church worships together in beauty and holiness, and I was drawn to it. Because liturgy is rooted in the Incarnation, we worship God with our whole being: body, mind, and soul. Anyone who has attended an Orthodox service can speak of the holistic worship: incense, icons, vestments, chants, and prostrations.

Finally, evangelicalism left me dissatisfied by its sacraments where there is little to no recognition of the elements as physical vehicles of grace, and Communion is celebrated more as a memorial service than as the life-giving bread and wine. Orthodoxy understands that all of life is a sacrament in Christ who fills life itself with the Holy Spirit. Orthodoxy is centered on one sacrament – the Eucharist – which is the

“sacrament of sacraments”

and the heavenly banquet of the kingdom of God. In Holy Communion we partake of the body and blood of Christ, the Eternal Passover Lamb, who makes us alive and holy with himself. This is why we worship, and this is why I transitioned from evangelicalism into the fullness of the faith – Christian Orthodoxy.

Source

from the blog, All of Creation Rejoices.

I begin to compose this post with a few disparate ideas floating around in my brain. Perhaps by the end they will have bounced off each other and arranged themselves into some sort of coherent structure.

As I have said in the past, before I first made contact with an Orthodox priest and began worshipping at an Orthodox parish, I learnt much about Orthodoxy through books and the internet. For all of the good such learning brings, the method can have its disadvantages, one of which, in my case at least, was that when I arose from the font a new creature I did so with all sorts of ideas of what the Church ought to be, how She ought to look and conduct Herself, how She could do things better.

In my zeal for professing my perception of the benefits of the restoration of the Western Rite, (which featured indirectly in my journey to the font, although it would be a year after my baptism before I worshipped in that rite), I dismissed the concerns of those who were more guarded. This was for two reasons: firstly, because I lumped together the legitimate concerns that came from careful consideration and observation with those that were based on nothing more than prejudice and ignorance, and dismissed them all; and secondly, because my lack of experience of life in the Church prevented me from understanding what people meant when they criticised the haste with which new converts were ordained to serve the Western Rite parishes and missions, which often themselves comprised recent converts.

Well, some time has passed since then. While I cannot make any claim to be a shining beacon of Orthodoxy, the past six years have given me enough experience to be able to see the truth in some of those concerns, which do not affect the Western Rite alone but all those who board the saving ark of the Church, having previously sailed in other vessels on the turbulent sea of life. I have experienced this myself, where new converts, fresh out of the font, or who have perhaps not yet even entered it, have had all sorts of ideas about what the Church is doing wrong and see it as their role to make it right. These have often been based on flawed perceptions of what constitutes inclusiveness and exclusiveness, misguided ideas about the relationship between church and state, as well as the basis, purpose, and direction of the liturgical worship of God, often mixed in with a good dose of clericalism inherited from a previous ecclesiastical home. Among the examples that I have heard have been:

• calls for the Holy Doors in the iconostas to be left open throughout the Divine Liturgy so that the people can see.
• questions asked in an accusatory tone about the priest facing east with the people to pray, preventing the people from seeing. (“Back to the people” was the disparaging term used.)
• a flat refusal to enter the Orthodox Church if their heterodox baptism is not recognised.
• a refusal to enter the Orthodox Church unless the Western Rite is made available to them.
• calls for various prayers to be chanted aloud so that the people can hear, even though the liturgical tradition has them spoken by the priest in a low voice.
• services always and entirely in English because this is the official language of this country.
• a call to arms for the Church to try to influence secular politics surrounding various issues that are quite separate from Church affairs.
• an attempt to redefine the diaconate as an order of social workers.

I was guilty of similar things myself, at first. There is almost a sense in which the new Christian (for that is what a newly-baptised person is, regardless of his previous life), is seeking, perhaps unwittingly, to mould the Church according to his own will rather than submit himself to be moulded by the mind and heart of the Church. This is nothing other than pride.

That is not a condemnation of new converts who fall into this trap. They are at the beginning of a journey but this is often very difficult for them to see when at that stage. I know it well: I was there. The discovery of Orthodoxy happens, and may be kept quiet at first because it the enquirer’s new, exciting thing to explore. He may read a few books – usually the standard works by Alfeyev, Ware, and other big names that non-Orthodox may have heard of – and increase his book-knowledge over a few weeks or months in this way. Armed with this pot of elfin gold, the enquirer, convinced that a few books and articles have given him a firm grasp of Orthodoxy, ventures into the world of the internet discussion forum, where he reads and begins to engage in discussion of which jurisdiction has done what, which bishop has fallen out with whom, who is in schism and who is “canonical” (whatever that means), and may even learn a few canons that he can quote entirely out of context in order to make him appear knowledgeable when he moves on to the next stage, which is “coming out” to friends, family, and church contacts as somebody who is taking the plunge.

Contact with an Orthodox priest and worship at an Orthodox parish usually happen at some point during the course of this process*, and eventually the person is baptised (or may be received into the Church by economy, if this is permitted). The point of recounting all of this is to illustrate that the entire experience of this new Orthodox Christian has been one of exploring, searching, learning, and journeying towards a specific point: entering the Orthodox Church. When that happens, the summit is reached, the goal of all of his efforts of months/years has been achieved. Everything that he has done in his spirtual life for some time, whether it followed the somewhat cynical description given above or whether it was much more immersed in prayer and proper spiritual direction, has been geared towards that one thing.

Now, at last, he is able to identify himself as a member of the Orthodox Church. It is very difficult to approach somebody in that state and bring him to a point of understanding that what he has just experienced marks the beginning of the journey, and not the end. It is the start, not the finish line, and the race is still very much set before him. The focus of weeks/months/years now needs to change but this knowledge only comes from experience of having lived it, and trying to communicate it to somebody who does not have that experience is like trying to make a small child understand what will happen if he sticks his hand in the fire. An obedient child may indeed avoid the fire, trusting the nurturing voice of the experienced big brother, but even that child will not really understand what it is to get burnt until he experiences it at some point in life. So it is with the spiritual life.

Archpriest Andrew Phillips has said to me in the past that he isn’t particularly interested in stories of how people become Orthodox. Phoning up a priest and asking for baptism is really quite easy – I wish more people would do it! What is difficult, he says, and what produces more useful stories, is how people remain Orthodox. More and more, I come to realise that he is right. Incidentally, for those who are interested, Fr Andrew has published on his website a transcript of a talk he once gave on this very subject. I recommend it.

Entering the Church is not an end in itself but it is the beginning of a journey into the fullness of life in Christ Jesus, to deepen our life in God and with each other, through being immersed in the Holy Scriptures, in the doctrines of the Church, in the Holy Mysteries, in the imagery of the holy icons, that our minds and heart may be filled with grace and our lives may be transformed, that our light may shine before men and that they may encounter something of God’s grace in us. And it is a process – a journey.

There may be an argument to be made that somebody at the outset may have a clearer view of how the Church appears from the outside than somebody who has known nothing but the interior view for years. However, this exterior view is usually tinted by so many misconceptions that its usefulness is severely limited. Somebody who does not understand the premise of Orthodox worship, and who comes from a confession where the form of worship commonly used is based on anti-sacerdotalist principles and is contained in a book that is a mere few decades or centuries old cannot legitimately criticise the manner in which Orthodox worship is conducted without first being immersed in it and internalising its meaning and effect. Somebody who has little to no experience of the diaconate, or who knows of it as a lay administratve role is in no position to be giving advice on what the Orthodox diaconate should be, what deacons should do, and how the ministry needs to be revamped.

Somebody from a confession that is geographically (and perhaps ethnically) limited perhaps ought to be cautious about insisting that Orthodox worship be entirely in a particular language until he comes to see the riches of a community of people from around the world who are united by a common faith in the Holy Trinity. Somebody from a confession that prides itself on taking a “hard line” on moral issues may think that he is of one mind with the Orthodox approach to these matters, and that we shall be impressed by this, (indeed, his experience on the internet may seem to confirm this), but one only need scratch the surface to see that the foil comes off very easily, and that what lies beneath is not gold. Such a person may find himself shocked to find how these matters are actually dealt with pastorally and sacramentally in real Orthodox parishes, for the care of real people who are seeking to live in Christ. As for our approach to evangelism, an Evangelical Protestant weblog correspondent, identifying himself only as JP, commented on a blog post about Frank Schaeffer’s conversion to Orthodoxy, saying of Orthodox Christians:

I couldn’t help recognizing that as he stressed the importance of them not having changed in the last two thousand years, that it is no wonder why they are almost completely irrelevant in the world at large. A foreign student has been attending my church recently; he was born and brought up in the Orthodox Church in Europe … They gathered on religious holidays and sang songs in Latin (I believe it was). The only relevance that I can really think of them having is for historical significance, certainly not for New Testament evangelism. When I start seeing them prophesying on the streets and the markets, then maybe I will begin to take notice.

While this comes from somebody who perhaps isn’t seeking a way into the Church, it reflects the same sort of prideful attitude: “I will begin to the listen to the Church when it starts to do things the way I think they should be done”. The Church needs to build itself up, to live the faith that it has received, and to ensure that there is something nourishing, permanent, and sustaining into which to bring people to carry them into oneness with the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Long-term evangelism can only be effective if combined with this firm grounding. Somebody looking at the Orthodox approach from an Evangelical perspective will not see this, but only an absence of the sort of missionary zeal found in his own tradition. Yet the failure to sustain people once they are through the door is a charge often brought against Evangelical Christianity by its former adherents. After all, what good is there in sending out numerous invitations to dinner if there is no food to serve the guests when they arrive?

Enquirers and converts need to be aware of the pitfalls of thinking they know everything when they come through the Church’s doors, and I do think that there is wisdom in the advice that I received (but, sadly, did not heed), to keep my mouth shut for a few years after my baptism and simply absorb Orthodoxy through its being lived in my parish life. It is true that there is a difference between joining the Orthodox Church and actually becoming Orthodox. Baptism may effect a mystical change but it is not a magic spell, and it is only over time, with perseverance, prayer, and ongoing sustenance by grace does this become a lived reality.

I see this now, almost certainly not fully, but much more clearly than I did a mere few years ago. I have been through stages of great zeal and fervour, fasted strictly and followed a rule of prayer religiously (indeed, how else?), considered monasticism, then descended into spiritual slovenliness, doubted whether there was even a God to believe in, and fallen into unashamed sinfulness for a time, before finding that God had not left me but it was I who had very nearly left God. It is only “hitting bottom”, shedding my pride, and being open with my sisters and brothers that I have come to learn that this is simply a normal part of life in the Church, and that many of the romantic ideas of which I had been so certain before were nothing more than dreams that would be carried away on the first winds of a storm.

For He knows what we are made of, He remembers that we are dust. Man – his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field. When the spirit in him has passed, he will not exist, and he will know his place no more. But the Lord’s mercy is from age to age for those who fear Him, and his justice is for their children’s children, for those who keep his covenant and remember to carry out his commandments.

Psalm 102: 14-18

Now I fast often but not strictly, my prayer life is rubbish, and my sins are repetitive. And do you know what? It’s wonderful! I am no longer deluding myself into thinking that I know more than I do, that I am more spiritually mature than I am, or that I am in any position to tell people things that I have no authority to tell them. I realise just how much I am in need of God’s mercy. My confessions are much more frank and honest, and any little progress that I am granted by God’s grace is real. Finally, I realise that I am much further down St John’s Ladder (looking up to see the bottom rung) than I once thought I was, and despite the pain of the passage to where I am, I am much happier here than where I was.

You see – I needed a lesson in humility. All converts need a lesson in humility. Some realise it much sooner and much more easily than I did. I still likely have far to go in learning this lesson, but the fresh convert in me would never have allowed me even to enter the classroom.

Bearing in mind the fear of thinking I had lost faith, the pain of friendships lost, and the uncomfortable and unsettling introspection to which it all led, all of which have taught me valuable lessons, I can do little other than follow the advice of St Elisabeth to her nuns:

…say, like St John Chrysostom, as he was sent into exile: ‘Glory to God for all things!’

- St Elisabeth the New-Martyr

Woods, a convert to Orthodoxy along with her husband, Martin, and son, Andrew, 18, is hoping to generate interest in the faith in her community of about 20,000, 35 miles west of Springfield.

The idea, says Woods, who operates a publishing business out of her home, is to form a parish, but she admits that might be down the road. Currently, a dozen or so members — numbers have reached as high as 20 — gather monthly in a small chapel inside Grace United Methodist Church for Vespers, or evening prayer.

On a recent Sunday, the faithful, a mix of full Orthodox members and inquirers, cross themselves and venerate icons of Christ and the Virgin Mary on stands flanking the altar.

Prayers for a litany of hopes — for bishops and clergy, for civil authorities and armed forces and

“for seasonable weather, for abundance of the fruits of the earth and for peaceful times” — are chanted with a response of

“Lord, have mercy.”

As three members take turns singing the apostikha — literally “hymns of the verses” — the Rev. Thaddeus Nielsen uses incense in the entire chapel, an ancient ritual symbolic of offering up the prayers of the saints to God.

“We have something to offer,”

says Woods in a church parlor afterward, over a light meal of soup and bread,

“and what we have to offer is Jesus Christ.

“Orthodoxy is nothing more and nothing less than the authentic church Christ founded, proclaiming the gospel from the apostolic age until today. Christ is present here, and he is present strongly.

“That is the heart of Orthodoxy. It’s a faith one lives.”

‘A well-kept secret’

Peyton Tosh, 18, of Jacksonville is, like Karen Woods, a convert to Orthodoxy, which she calls “a life-changing experience” for her and her family — father, Peter, mother, Jennifer, sisters, Lydia, Rebekah and Daphne, and brother, Gabriel.

“It really is a beautiful faith,”

says Peyton, who regularly attends St. Anthony’s, a Greek Orthodox church in Springfield.

“Unfortunately, it is a well-kept secret in this country.”

Worldwide, there are about 250 million adherents of Orthodoxy, with about 5 million in the U.S., where ethnic enclaves started many churches: for example, Greeks in Springfield and Russians in Benld, a town an hour south of Springfield.

“Orthodoxy is not all that visible (here in the U.S.),” Woods says, “probably because ethnic communities are somewhat, to outright, insular.”

Woods claimed the Orthodox faith after growing disenchanted with the Episcopal Church. A 2010 study by the Patriarch Athenagoras Orthodox Institute in Berkeley, Calif., revealed that half the members of the Orthodox Church in America are converts mostly from Roman Catholic and evangelical Protestant backgrounds.

Like Peyton Tosh, Woods got in on “the secret” of Orthodoxy, a faith she finds both exuberant and demanding.

“It’s not something you put on on a Sunday and take off an hour later,” Woods says. “God calls us to sanctification; in Orthodoxy, we call it deification. Not that we become God, but we become more God-like, more dedicated to the faith.

“In the liturgical cycle, the church gives us periods of feasting and fasting, periods of deep introspection. All of the senses are engaged: the incense of the prayers offered up, the beauty of the icons. It’s a full-body experience.”

Adds Tosh:

“We asked the harder questions of other faiths and would get vague answers. We pretty much found the answers here.”

‘Up to God’

Rev. Nielsen, the priest-in-charge at St. Raphael, a mission church located in a storefront in downtown Quincy, has been driving to Jacksonville to tend to the needs of the Orthodox community here. Nielsen and others might know more about the future of the movement in the coming weeks when Bishop Matthias (Moriak) of Chicago and others take up the matter.

The bishop may give the community permission to celebrate Divine Liturgy, in addition to Great Vespers. He could assign a priest, send a rotating or supply priest from the area, or wait until numbers grow.

“The possibilities are endless,” Woods says.

Nielsen knows a little bit of what the Jacksonville group is going through. The Quincy group had a similar grassroots beginning going back to 2000 before the mission was designated in 2004. Nielsen came to Quincy in 2005 from northwestern Wisconsin.

The next step for St. Raphael’s, Nielsen says, is for it to be designated a parish.

“We’re flying by the seat of our pants,” Nielsen says. “The Orthodox (Church) has not been historically strong in reaching out to people. We’re trying to show the faith can be meaningful here.”

For now, Woods is networking around the area and has established a website. Numbers-wise, she likes the group’s chances.

“Where it will go from here,” she says, “is up to God.”

Steven Spearie can be reached at spearie@hotmail.com or at 622-1788.

A brief history of the Eastern Orthodox Church

Adherents see the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic church with lineage to Jesus Christ and the apostles. It has a shared history with the Roman Catholic Church; in 1054, though, Pope Leo IX excommunicated the Patriarch of Constantinople, who issued a mutual excommunication that wouldn’t be removed until 1965. Two primary disputes were the primacy of Rome, and the insertion of the “filioque clause” (essentially, the phrase “and the Son”) to the Nicene Creed.

Although there are ethnic distinctions, Eastern Orthodox churches are theologically unified.

Eastern Orthodoxy came to North America in 1794. Easter dates differ with the Roman Catholic Church for a number of complex reasons. Some churches, such as Holy Dormition in Benld, part of the Russian Patriarchate, use the Julian calendar, meaning Christmas is celebrated Jan. 7.

HT: Pravmir

Source

With the blessing of His Holiness Patriarch Kirill of Moscow and All Russia, Fr. Seraphim Raicha of St. Nicholas’s in Bangkok was ordained in the newly-consecrated church as hieromonk to continue his service in Thailand. Present at the service were pilgrims from various parishes in the country, officials of the Russian Embassy in Thailand and the head of the local administration.

His Eminence Mark presented Rev. Danai (Daniel) Vann with a patriarchal award, a golden pectoral cross. The right to wear it was granted to the first Thai Orthodox priest for his zealous work for the good of the Church and the Thai translation of Archpriest Seraphim Slobodskoy’s Bible chairs.

Archbishop Mark also presented Archimandrite Oleg Cherepanin, representative of the Russian Orthodox Church in Thailand, with the Order of St. Innocent of Moscow in acknowledgement of his work for many years for the good of the Church and on the occasion of his 50th birthday.

The previous day, Archbishop Mark held at the monastery an assembly of the clergy, members of the parish councils of Orthodox churches in Thailand and Cambodia, representatives of the Orthodox parish in Laos and the committee of the Orthodox Church Foundation in Thailand. Archimandrite Oleg Cherepanin made a report stating the progress made and existing problems, the main ones being an acute need for purchasing some land for building a church in Bangkok and a shortage of clergy at the acting parishes.

Members of parish councils reported on the life of their communities, describing the special features of each of them. Rev. Danai (Daniel), chairman of the committee of the Orthodox Church Foundation in Thailand, introduced the assembly to the work of the Foundation.

In conclusion, Archbishop Mark addressed the assembly thanking all the participants and stating that some problems will be settled in the course of his visit, while others will be submitted to the consideration of His Holiness Patriarch Kirill of Moscow and All Russia.

He also received each of the monastery brethren in individual audience for a private talk, after which he identified candidates for taking monastic vows and instructed the representative of the Russian Orthodox Church in Thailand to submit an appropriate report to Patriarch Kirill.

In the evening, Archbishop Mark officiated at All-Night Vigil at the monastery’s church of the Dormition. During the service he presented Vladimir Buntilov, assistant to the ROC representative in Thailand and lecturer at the Mahidol University in Bangkok, with a patriarchal award, the Medal of St. Innocent, Metropolitan of Moscow, in recognition of his church work, the website of the Orthodox Church in Thailand has reported.

Source: Byzantine, TX

Fr. Moses Berry, an OCA priest ministering at Theotokos “Unexpected Joy” Orthodox Church in Ash Grove, Missouri, has an unusual story. In 1998, he moved with his family from St. Louis to his family’s farm in Ash Grove, near Springfield. Century Farm has been in the Berry family since 1872; on the property a cemetery dedicated to “Slaves, Paupers, and Indians” needed maintenance and oversight, and so Fr. Moses left a mission in the city to return to his rural boyhood home.

A small group of faithful collected around the new mission, Theotokos “Unexpected Joy.”  The tiny cemetery chapel hosted the first services; in 2000 the mission was received into the Orthodox Church in America, and in 2003 parishioners erected a temple.

Fr. Moses travels widely to give talks on mission and also on local Afro-American history; folks who have met him elsewhere often stop by to worship when they pass through the area. In addition to leading the parish, Fr. Moses also heads up The Brotherhood of St Moses the Black, a pan-Orthodox nonprofit organization which presents an annual conference targeting those who have little exposure to Orthodoxy or its African roots.

Recently, oca.org interviewed Fr. Moses about his unique ministry.

1.  Father, for those who might not be familiar with your background, can you give us a snapshot of how you came to be an OCA priest?

It was in a seemingly roundabout fashion.  All my life, I’ve had what we in the African American tradition (and some others as well) refer to as a “calling.” I come from a long line of African Methodist Episcopal (AME) preachers of some renown in this area. After being somewhat of a prodigal son, at one point, I found myself being released from incarceration by what seemed to be miraculous means.  I made a promise to serve the Lord, and began a long journey to the Faith, which led me through various Christian and non-Christian groups. When I was ordained by Archbishop JOB in 2000, he told me that I had traveled far to get to the Church, but that I hadn’t “arrived” – the journey would continue.  That made me both thankful for my life to that point, and hopeful for the future.

2.  During Black History Month, it seems especially fitting to discuss your 2011 AAC resolution, which passed by an overwhelming majority. What were you requesting, and why?

I wanted the OCA to invite African American people (referring to those whose ancestors were slaves or could have been slaves, in this country) to the Lord’s feast – not by a “general” invitation because we’ve always been open to everyone, but a specific one. I wanted our Church to call them by name. We know that in Christ there is no East or West, slave or free, no Gentile or Jew, but that very passage indicates that there are distinctions among people, and that God loves us all equally.  It’s time we actively sought after and made a real effort to plant the True Church in the African American community.

The text of the resolution read:
“WHEREAS there are deep resonances between the faith of the early Church and the heartfelt Christianity born out of the American slaves’ experience, especially characterized by the “sad joyfulness” common to the Desert Fathers and Mothers and to the suffering, underground church of the African American slaves, and
WHEREAS African Americans have been and are still significantly under-represented in the Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Orthodox Church in America,
BE IT THEREFORE RESOLVED that the Orthodox Church in America, at every level of church life, promote and encourage education about the shared heritage of Black and White Americans and the necessity for increased efforts to evangelize the African American community.”

3.  You have said, “to be a Church for all Americans, we will have to overcompensate.” Can you explain what you mean by this?

Basic human nature tells us that people are most comfortable with others like themselves.  Many of us take this for granted, and may not understand the profound affect it has on an individual to see an icon that resembles them – or conversely, to never see a face that looks like theirs. So many people I know were profoundly moved when they first encountered the image of St. Moses the Black, because of this.  And that’s part of what I mean by overcompensation – we have to recognize everyone’s human frailty and address it, without being condescending. We need to deeply and soberly, in an Orthodox manner, celebrate the diversity of God’s expression in the human family.

4.  This is a busy month for you. Who do you speak to during this month in schools and churches, and what is the thrust of your message?

I most recently talked to a high school group near the Ft. Leonard Wood army base, and I’m speaking at a FOCUS gathering this week about African American history.  Especially to young people, I point out that we were more than slaves, but helped build the nation.  Young people, who feel, rightly or wrongly, disenfranchised, need to know that their ancestors struggled and made great sacrifices, and were not merely victims.

I also would quote St. Ambrose, when he said “Even in the lowliest status, men should learn that their character can be superior and that no state of life is devoid of virtue if the soul of the individual knows itself. The flesh is subject to slavery, not the spirit, and many humble servants are more free than their masters…Every sin is slavish, while blamelessness is free. On this account the Lord also says ‘Everyone who commits sin is a slave of sin.’ Indeed, how is each greedy man not a slave, seeing that he auctions himself off for a very tiny sum.” (Seven Exegetical Works. B#12 Vol. 65, p. 201)

I use my appearances during Black History month as way to introduce people who might not otherwise hear of it to the history of the Church.

5.  Can you tell us a bit about the 19th Annual Ancient Christianity and Afro-American Conference scheduled for May?

There’s a lot of information about it on the Brotherhood web site. The conference this year will be held at Antiochian Village on May 25-57, and will include people from all Orthodox jurisdictions. Bishop Thomas Joseph of the Antiochian Archdiocese will be the speaker.

6.  What are the greatest challenges and opportunities facing the clergy and faithful of the OCA today, in regards to reaching out to the African American community?

The first, and most important thing, is to know that we are the true Church, holy, catholic and apostolic, and everyone must be part of it. I have a tiny parish in a tiny town, and I feel that there should be tiny churches in every tiny town, and in every neighborhood.  The Church belongs to everyone – and we are duty-bound to open our hearts, and our doors, however difficult that may be.  In all the years I’ve been a pastor, I’ve been asked repeatedly, “Fr. Moses, how can I minister to Black people?”  I’ve never been asked, “How can I minister to White people?”  So you see, the question is ridiculous. We all do the best we can with what we’ve got, and God gives the increase.

Source: OCA Website

This is the final installment of Tamara’s delightful story about her journey to the Orthodox faith and it is absolutely captivating. We published it in it’s entirety as a series from her blog, My Search For The Truth. Judging from the responses from you, the readers, it has been well received. Thank you for your patience in awaiting the full story. Journey To Orthodoxy appreciates what it takes to put one’s story down for others to read it. It is powerful, valuable and irreplaceable for anyone looking themselves at Orthodoxy as the only undiluted, unpolluted, pure form of Apostolic Christianity which exists. These things matter.

Enjoy the finale of this excellent journey, and thank you, Tamara, for allowing us to republish it!

Part 17 of 17.

17: Orthodox Christianity

Beverly’s recommendation to me was first and foremost, not to give up on God, nor on my search for the place God had in store for me, or as I had always termed it, His True Church. She told me that for the foreseeable future, I should worship with a church that was like the RCC, for example, Lutheran or Orthodox.

I had tried the Lutheran Church before and had discounted it. I was not going to go backward. So I thought I would investigate her other suggestion, the Orthodox Christian Church.

I was completely miserable at this point in time; I had no idea what I was even looking for anymore. I was past the end of my rope. I wanted to worship God. I wanted to worship Him in Spirit and in Truth. The Spirit I had no problem with. It was the Truth I could not seem to find. I looked again to Facebook and came across an argument, though it was done with such respect it could barely be called more than a discussion, between someone of the Roman Catholic faith, and what appeared to be someone from the Orthodox Church. His profile picture was just a black square with a big silver cross in the middle of it. And his name was John Peck.

After reading his responses to the accusations levelled at him by the Catholic, I deduced that he knew what he was talking about. He was saying things like the original Christian Church did things this way, but the Roman Catholic Church changed the story over the years and now did things that way. I thought for a moment about the implications of that statement. Was he saying that there was actually a church that was older, or more precisely, of greater historical accuracy, than the Roman Catholic Church? Was it possible that the True Church that was established by Jesus Christ 2000 years ago had survived in its purest form, and was available to me today?

I took what I was determined would be my last step towards my goal of finding the True Church. I went to the profile of John A. Peck, and clicked on Message.

Hi, I am a Christian, but a very confused one at the moment,

began my timid message. As best I could, I explained my religious background, and the search I had been on over the past two years, culminating in cold hard rejection from the Roman Catholic Church. I told him that my poor brain was so confused, I only wanted the answer to one question at the moment.

Who is this Man, Jesus Christ?

He answered my message almost immediately. I was right, he said, to ask the question I did. Everything hinged on the answer to that. He told me that if I were to go to an Orthodox service, I would hear what they believe about Jesus Christ, and have believed and taught, without change, for 2000 years. This was verifiable fact. He told me that another verifiable fact, was that the Roman Catholic Church has made many changes to what it believes, what it teaches, and how it worships over the last 2000 years.

He advised me to go to Google, and type in “English Speaking Orthodox Church” in my city. He told me to go to a service and see for myself. And to go to the priest after the service and tell him what I had said in my message regarding my search.

And to write back and tell him how it all went.

With renewed strength, I went back one last time to dear dependable Google. I discovered that there was indeed an English speaking Orthodox Church in Brisbane, and it would not be more than a 40 minute drive away. I also discovered, to my delight, that it had a Facebook Page. That was surely a sign!

That Sunday morning I walked into the strangest room I had ever been in. Apart from the colourful pictures, the warm candles and the sweet-smelling incense, I noticed a few other things as well:

First, there were actually men in this Church, leading it in the way men were supposed to lead.

Secondly, the women all filed in wearing different coloured versions of my exact outfit: long sleeved shirts, long loose skirts, and head-coverings.

Thirdly, I heard more of the Bible during that service than I had collectively heard at every Methodist service I had ever been in. And fourthly, it was obvious that every person in that building, was there for one reason: to worship God. This was no comfortable, entertaining rock concert. This was pure, reverent worship. No pretence.

Immediately after the service, one of the young men from the choir bounced over and introduced himself. His name was Tom, and he had recognised me from Facebook. I told him a bit about my story so far, and why I was there. To my amazement, he knew exactly who the man was who had sent me to that Church that Sunday – even though John, or Father John as I learned was his correct title, was in America. Tom answered a bunch of my questions, and although his answers contained more big words and information that I actually needed at the time, I began to feel very much like, once again, but differently this time, I was perhaps, finally, daring to believe that I might, after all, have found the True Faith.

Before I left Tom gave me a handful of papers to read about the Orthodox Church. One of them, which I decided to start with, was simply titled, Sola Scriptura.

Upon reading that article, I was brought face to face with the absurdity of the concept of Sola Scriptura, or as Pastor Adrian the Lutheran had termed it, Scripture Alone, one of the Four Alones that were the basis of the Reformation Theology. Those pages articulated exactly what was wrong with all the churches that I had been to and through: of course if you are going to base your entire belief system around the Bible, or more accurately, your own interpretation of the Bible, you are going to eventually butt heads with other people who are doing the same thing. If all you have is the text, and no authoritative guideline on how to interpret that text, then you can read anything you like into it, whether intentional or unintentional. It was the logical conclusion of Sola Scriptura that what we would end up with would be hundreds of denominations, each preaching an entirely different theology based on the same Text, screaming their heads off at each other that the others were all wrong and they were the only ones who knew the Truth.

And what was the Truth exactly? Was it to be found in Scripture? Or was it to be found in the Tradition of the original Church, founded by the Apostles, that consisted of both written and oral teaching, that the Bible is actually a part of? After all, how did we end up with the Bible exactly? Did Jesus write it? Did it fall from heaven exactly as it is today? Or was it put together over three hundred years by the early Church, the same Church that can be found today every Sunday in an Orthodox Christian liturgy?

After reading that document I needed no more convincing. I had found the Church. Now I just needed to learn what it actually meant.

Tom graciously invited me to fire any number of questions at him on his Facebook Wall, and his answers were soon supplemented by the Church’s Sub Deacon Andrew, and Priest, Father Alexander. These became my Three Wise Men and between them, within a relatively short time, all the questions that had plagued me for three years, or more accurately, for my entire life, began to be answered. Andrew’s wife Sarah became my friend, supporter and guide, and eventually, at the event of my Baptism and Chrismation on December 24th 2011, my godmother.

Conclusion

I had found the True Church of God. No one had come after me and said

“You are doing it wrong. Come with me and I will show you.”

I had started this search on my own, and eventually, through an amazingly complicated and emotional journey, I found exactly what I was looking for: the Truth. God had brought me to where He wanted me to be. Looking back through my experiences, I can see why I went through each individual stage. I can understand why one day I was so convinced that God wanted me to be Catholic, and the next day I was equally convinced that that could not be the case.

Jesus said,

“Behold I stand at the door and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.”

All God requires of us is that we search with fervour to find His Truth; if that is what we really want, He will bring us to it. If I can do this, then anyone can!

Throughout this text I have sought only to describe my personal experiences, thoughts and feelings. I have met many people along my journey who believe different things to what I have come to. I am not writing this to try to convince them that they are all wrong and need to come around to my way of thinking; I am simply being honest about where I stand, and why I stand here. I appreciate the help of everyone who has been with me along the way.

From the Baptist Church of my childhood, I gained my initial love for and appreciation of God. I learned the Scriptures. I made friends which I still have today, and I love them all for their help and support of me from when I was a child who had never set foot inside a church before.

From the COC, I have since met people who have shown me, in their weaker moments, that in their own way they really do love God and want to serve Him. I believe that they are in a very turbulent place, and pray that they make it through without the scars that I was left with. I do not believe that honest God-fearing Christians should be in an environment like that. I know that will upset some people, but I honestly believe that, if they were to step back and take a look at the bigger picture, they would see the irreverence the way I do. Life is not about having fun and coasting through while bringing God along for the ride. Our position is to worship Him, in awe of His Majesty. It is hard to do that when we are so busy preparing for party after party, all in the name of “church”.

I consider many of my friends in the Methodist Church to still be my dear friends, and appreciate their support through the years I spent with them. I believe that people who truly seek to worship God will understand why I had to leave them, and how I ended up here now.

Reverend Michael (not his real name) from the Presbyterian Church was a wonderful help to me, and I still consider him one of the most learned authorities on the Old Testament. It was the position of the Westminster Confession of Faith that I had a problem with, not the people of the Presbyterian Church. I wish them all well and thank them for their help.

The Sacred Name Movements, the Yisraelites, the Amish, Mennonites and all the other “breakaway” groups I studied with, I pray that they will find what they are looking for. God rewards our efforts when we search for Him. In this day and age we have the whole world at our mousepad (well, maybe not the Amish), and this is a blessing I am exceptionally aware of.

I met some wonderful Jehovah’s Witnesses, and I saw a lot of honest love for God in their group. However, their theology is built on heretical translations, an incorrect version of historical events and moderated by an organisation that I believe has ulterior motives.

I am thankful for the time I spent with Jews and Muslims, as I learned a great deal about two religions I had known very little about, and what I had known had been erroneous. I met so many people who love God with all their heart and mind and body and soul. I believe that we serve a merciful God, Who is gracious to all who love Him. That is enough for me to know on that score. There are some wonderful people out there, but God loves them all more than I am ever able to, and He will do what is right.

The Lutheran Church was my favourite. Pastor Adrian was so very helpful and the people there were wonderful. I appreciate his and their help more than I can express. When I realised that my search was not going to end at the Lutheran Church I was most unhappy. I cherish the memory of my time there and am thankful to God for having it.

The Roman Catholic Church; well I can see now why God took me through that experience. It was all paving the way for the true place He had prepared for me. Again, I learned a lot and appreciate the people who helped me. It is interesting, and perhaps sad, to note that every Catholic person that I spoke to after I had cancelled my annulment application, was extremely sorry for the experience I had. Every one of them begged me not to give up on God because of it. Even down to the moderator of the Catholic Daily email newsletter that I had signed up to: when I cancelled my subscription and got a standard reply email asking me to tick the box corresponding to the reason I had cancelled my subscription, I took the opportunity to write in the “Comments” section that I had earnestly sought to join the Catholic Church, but due to the fact that I had been married previously, I was unable to. The woman who ran the Newsletter emailed me back personally and asked me more questions about the process and why I was unable to go through with it. I told her about my family situation, and how contacting my ex-husband was simply not a safe option, not to mention the expense factor. She wrote back and urged me to continue to seek God, and to know that this horrendous experience was the fault of “the Church”, not of God. She was an inspiration to me and I am happy to see that there are people like that in the world.

There are many people who will, I know, be unhappy with what I have written about their particular religion or denomination. Again, please know that I did not write this to accuse anyone. I simply related my experiences. I am not an expert on every religious view I have talked about here; I can only tell you what I have seen with my own eyes, how that made me feel, and what that made me do.

For Beverly, Father John, Father Alexander, Tom, Andrew and Sarah, I thank God daily, and could not have gotten through this odyssey to this blessed place without all of them and their willingness to avail themselves to God’s will.

My Lord, I have finally found Your Truth and Your intended place for me.

Now the real work can begin.

(Note: Truly our Lord works in mysterious ways. Glory to God for All Things! – Fr. John)

Read My Search For The Truth from the beginning – Part One by clicking HERE

Part 16 of 17.

16: Roman Catholicism

In the lead-up to Reformation Day, my beloved History Channel had been screening many Lutheran documentaries, and now that it had passed, they were now, for better or worse, focusing on the Roman Catholic Church. I watched shows for and against, and ironically, it was a series on the Spanish Inquisition that first set off a spark in me that slowly grew into glowing embers.

The documentaries were intended to show the brutal cruelty of the Roman Catholic Church, and the horrors that they have committed over the years. But, ever the counter-balance, I reasoned within myself that if the Catholic Church really was the only real, True Church, then all of those actions would be justified: people who spread heresy and threatened to lead people astray from the Truth should be stopped, by any means necessary, and the severity of their sentence should prove a deterrent to any other potential troublemakers. If, that is. But the Catholic Church was wrong, everyone knew that.

I was feeling miserable and confused, and at the end of my rope. I had tried everything and looked everywhere, and could not discern from the tangled mess of denominations which was the True Church of God. I prayed desperately for God to show me where He wanted me to go, or what He wanted me to do next. And I looked eagerly around for the answers.

First of course there were the Roman Catholic Church documentaries that happened to be on every time I flipped the TV on after praying these prayers. But that had to be a coincidence; the RCC was wrong. Then there were the conversations on Facebook, which I now largely sat out of and observed from a distance. Once young lady’s words stayed with me long after I logged off one night: in a scathing attack on a Lutheran, she confidently stated:

“Remember, your church was started by a man. My Church was started by Jesus Christ.”

Everywhere I looked, I seemed to be tripping over Catholicism. I gave good old Google Maps a try; maybe God had positioned my house so that the True Church could be found simply by its geographical proximity to me. Google Maps had me pegged as a Roman Catholic.

I sat down and reviewed my Story So Far. My first experience with religion was with Evangelical Protestant groups, which turned out disastrously. I firmly believed the Truth was not held by them. Traditional Protestant groups came up empty as well – they couldn’t seem to agree on a single thing. I have since read an article written by a young woman in America, who described her own search as looking for the Bride of Christ, when all the Protestant denominations seemed to her like jealous harem girls fighting for the Master’s attention. That is the best way of describing the state of Christianity in the Western world that I have ever heard. And it was brought home to me at work every day, hearing the snide remarks of my workmates against each other and the seemingly minute differences between their churches – they were all tarred with the same Protestant brush to me.

The other two Abrahamic religions had been considered and discarded – for all of its faults, I believed the Truth lay in Jesus Christ. I just had to find the group of people who knew Him best.

And why did I limit my search to the Abrahamic faiths? Simple: my Pentecostal Bible teachers had done their job well in regards to Creation Science; I believed in the truth of the Old Testament. It made a lot more sense to me than the theory of all existence growing over billions of years out of green slime.

So there I was, looking for the Truth of Christ, within the Christian Church. There seemed to be one theme that ran pretty true throughout the different denominations that I had searched: the younger the denomination, the more warped their theology seemed to be. The place that had seemed to be to be closest to the Truth, without actually having it, was the Lutherans. And that left me with only one alternative.

The Roman Catholic Church.

I did not have to look on many websites before I saw the message of their current campaign: “Catholics Come Home.” Theirs was the original Christian Church, the one that all the others grew out of. History proved it.

But that could not possibly be where God wanted me. Catholics were wrong. Everyone knew that.

The clincher came when I decided to throw one more piece of meat to the hungry Facebook lions. I wrote up on my Wall one day “Just out of curiosity, what denomination is everybody?”, and when hours later I began sorting through the chaos that ensued, I made a startling discovery: Beverly, the kind American relative of my husband who had been my main supporter since I first decided to come back to God, listed herself as a Roman Catholic.

I was shocked. This woman was a Christian; I had absolutely no doubt of that. I saw the love and Truth of God in her more than any other person I had ever spoken to in the course of my life. And she was spreading all this Godly love from the base of the Catholic Church? How is that possible? My Baptist friends had taught me so many years ago the exact same thing my parents used to say: you were either Catholic or Christian. There was Christianity, and there was Roman Catholicism; they were different religions. As different as Islam and Judaism. As different as Methodism and Hindu. But here I was, face to face with the first Roman Catholic I had ever actually conversed with, and she had convinced me of her salvation long before I had ever thought to ask her which denomination she belonged to.

So that meant one thing: all these messages I was apparently getting could, possibly could, be pointing me to the Roman Catholic Church after all. It may be possible. I had some work to do first.

I jumped on Google, and Wiki, and Facebook; I scoured the History Channel, I searched the bookselves of my own library and my husband’s shop. I made a pretty big score there: I discovered a 1974 Papal Bible, huge, full colour and leather bound, and had I not been silly and burnt incense too close to it with no safety plate, it would have been worth a fortune. But still, it was the first Bible I had with the Apocrypha, and I had new reading material to pore over.

I found many things that made me uncomfortable. The Apocryphal writings sounded like fairy stories. And in the colour photographs at the front of the Bible, there was one of an embarrassingly expensive gold and jewel encrusted crown worn by the Pope. That could feed a LOT of starving children in Africa, if the Methodists got their hands on it.

Another great book I found was called Could You Ever Become A Catholic? It touched on many issues that Protestants feel uncomfortable about when first looking into the Catholic Church. Mary being the major one, and prayers to Saints coming in a close second. The more I read the less uncomfortable I felt about these practises… but I could never bring myself to actually do them.

So I thought, just for the fun of it, how about I take Google Maps up on it’s challenge and go to the Catholic Church that was two blocks from my house on Sunday. Just to see if this message I seemed to be getting was possible.

And the first thing I thought, when I walked into the unassuming white building that Sunday morning, was yes, it is possible. It is SO possible! I think this is finally it!

Looking back now, I probably felt that way in part because the Catholic Church, far from being the culture shock that I was expecting, was really not that much different from the Methodist Church I had spent two years in. There was a wide stage and a band, complete with electric guitar and drum kit, set up on one side. There was only one small stained glass window in the building, the seats were modern soft chairs, the wooden cross up on the wall looked the same at the Protestant ones, and the only thing that looked in any way different was the table set up in the middle of the “stage” with two large candles burning on it, which evidently was the Altar.

The priest seemed like a nice, friendly man, at least that was what I garnered from his smiles – with his thick Korean accent I could barely understand a word he was saying. And another interesting thing that took me a little by surprise, was that apart from one obviously Irish girl who sat on the opposite side to me, every single person in the packed-out service was a South Sea Islander. Having learned from my studies of Islam as well as conservative Protestant denominations the importance of men wearing men’s clothes and women wearing women’s clothes, the sight of these Islanders dressed up in their Sunday best, with the women in pants and the men wearing skirts, was a start to me indeed. However, by this time I was pretty sure I had found God’s True Church, so anything like that that went against what I had previously learnt, must have meant that my previous understanding was flawed, not the stance of the Holy Mother Church.

After the Mass I found a lady who seemed to be “somebody”, and who also appeared to speak English. I told her I was interested in becoming Catholic. I had learned from my reading that the steps one took to joining the Church were called RCIA, the Rites of Christian Initiation for Adults. I asked her whom I should speak to about RCIA.

She thought for a minute, and said that there was probably no one in this church that could help me (!), that I would probably have to go to the Cathedral in the city. That should have been my second clue (the first being the electric guitars!). But, undeterred, I wrote down the details she told me and cleared a time in my schedule when I could take a train ride into Brisbane and visit the Cathedral to investigate RCIA. I had finally, after a long search, found the Church that God wanted me to be in, so I wanted to waste no time in joining it.

At the Cathedral, I was directed to the Tribunal Office. I felt a little uncomfortable as I tried to explain to the lady behind the desk that I felt God wanted me to join the Roman Catholic Church. She seemed to be a regular office administrator, who would have been more likely to ask about my taxation details rather than my spiritual life. However, as I sat with her for over an hour, talking about my religious history and reasons for wanting to join the Church, we seemed to connect in some small part, and she handed me a ton of paperwork and told me to sign here, here and here, and we could get my application underway.

The first step, before I could even start these RCIA classes, was to get an annulment from my first marriage. This was something I had been prepared to be told, but could not possibly have been prepared for what it actually entailed.

I had to fill in numerous papers; get a signed statement from the priest at the parish I was currently attending to prove my regular attendance; two signed character witnesses from employers or other people of authority who had known me for more than two years; and signed statements, which had to be taken in front of a priest, from relatives or friends who had known me bother before and after my first marriage. That would be difficult, I mentioned, as my relatives all lived in different states. That was no problem, the lady told me, as they could go into their local Catholic Church and do the interviews there.

All of these papers then had to be sent of to Rome to be reviewed by the Pope. The Pope of Rome was interested in my previous marriage?? It all seemed very strange, but if that was what I had to do to join the True Church, then I would not let anything stop me. Then however, the conversation took on a decidedly sinister edge, when the admin lady, Debbie was her name, told me firstly that this process would likely take twelve to eighteen month, cost me over a thousand dollars, and that a statement also had to be taken from my ex-husband.

That sent chills down my spine. The last time I had seen my ex-husband was when he was being escorted out of my parents’ house, screaming death threats at me over his shoulder. He then proceeded to have his cronies call me in the middle of the night every night for three weeks, saying things like watch out for the bricks that were going to come crashing in my windows when I least expected them. All of this was over seven years previous, but I had heard from old friends via Facebook that he had recently reacted with the same amount of violence and anger, when my name had been mentioned by one of them. After seven years. This man was violent, mentally unstable and frighteningly unpredictable. And now I had to get him to go to a priest to sit down and write out a statement about our marriage just so I could join a new church?

Being sure as I was that my joining the Catholic Church was God’s plan for me, I sadly nodded and headed out of the office and towards the train station. It was a lot for me to take on at that point in my life; my mother had Dementia and my father and myself were looking after her at home. It was very difficult and stressful, and knowing that I now had to deal with this as well, seemed almost unbearable. And where in the world was I going to get $1000 from? Most of my meagre wages went toward supporting my parents. This was a big hurdle indeed, but if it was God’s will that I become a Catholic, then I would do whatever I had to do. God was more important to me than anything else, and doing His will was always going to be the best thing I could do, for my self or my family.

However, like Jane Austen after accepting the marriage proposal of her country friend, I awoke screaming in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. NO. This was not what God wanted me to do. Surely. A loving, merciful God would never ask me to put my family’s safety at risk by contacting a violent, unpredictable man who had threatened them in the past. Especially with what we were all currently going through. I had studied the Gospels inside and out, and knew well the all the stories of people repenting of their former sinful ways and turning to Jesus. Nowhere had I ever read anything about filling in application forms, getting character witnesses, contacting dangerous mistakes from your past or paying $1000. And the acceptance of the Lord had always been instantaneous. The tax collector, the Endometriosis sufferer, the woman at the well – they believed, they repented, they were saved. Right then and there.

I could not believe that the True God, the God of love, mercy and forgiveness, would seriously want to put me through that trauma in order to forgive my sins and let me be a part of His True Church.

I jumped out of bed and raced to my computer. Heart pounding, I emailed the woman at the Tribunal Office and told her to scrap my application. Please, please PLEASE do not contact my ex-husband. Neither I nor my family could deal with the stress at the moment.

I crawled back into bed and cried myself to sleep. God had shown me what He wanted me to do, and I was unable to do it. I had failed. I was never going to be a part of the True Church. I didn’t deserve to be.

The next day I quickly emailed Beverly to tell her about my harrowing experience, and consequent decision to halt my application process. She understood entirely. She was kind and understanding and sympathised with me. Althought still believing wholeheartedly in the Truth of the Roman Catholic Church, she did not agree with the harsh requirements for divorced persons wishing to enter RCIA. She was sponsoring a number of young women who were suffering through the process I had just weaselled my way out of. It was neither right nor fair.

So what do I do now? It was Sunday the very next day and I had no idea where I was going to be come ten o’clock. She told me to do whatever made me feel comfortable for that weekend, and we would talk about it more during the week. I figured I might as well go back to the Methodist Church that I had called home for two years, even though it had been a good six months since I had been there. At least it was a familiar place, and I should feel comfortable.

Well, the welcome I got when I arrived certainly comforted me. People rushed from every corner of the Big Tin Shed to throw their arms around me and welcome me back. I’m not sure if I’m back, I cautioned. I’m just here today. That was good enough, they all said. So I sat in my usual seat and prepared for the service.

Nothing had changed. I loved each and every person who was up on that stage, and I believed them when they all said that they loved God and were there to worship Him. However, the whole service was the same irreverent jumble it had been when I quit the Methodist Church half a year earlier. All women and children. All fun and games and song and dance. No structure, no reverence. No humility. No worship.

I actually felt my skin crawl.

I had to leave as soon as it was over, and I knew, though having no idea where I was going from there, that I would never be back.

Part 17 will be published on Friday!

Part 15 of 17.

15: Lutheranism

And so there I was again, sitting in between my computer, my Bibles and my Foxtel remote, with no idea of how to proceed further in my search for the Truth. I looked back over my previous few months: I had studied with Jews, and come to the conclusion that the Messiahship of Jesus of Nazareth was not negotiable. I had studied with Muslims, and decided that Mohammed had gone off on the wrong tangent.

So, Christianity it was then. But I was hurt by Evangelical Protestantism, disillusioned by “traditional” churches, and discombobulated by breakaway groups. Christianity in 2010 was a mess. But surely it could not always have been that way. I decided I needed to go back to the start, and find out what the Church was like in the beginning.

Being as I was, educated solely by Protestants, even though I knew that Jesus had been born 2000 years ago, for some reason my brain was content to believe that the Christian Church began in the Middle Ages. That was when there had been a big split from the Catholic Church, and the “true” Christians were now free to worship God the way they were supposed to, without all the corruption the Catholic Church had oppressed them with for hundreds of years. This period of time was called the Reformation. So I Googled that.

I found an awesomely catchy video on You Tube called the “95 Theses Rap”. It actually taught me a great deal and gave me more subjects to go to Wikipedia with. I learned that in 1517 a monk by the name of Martin Luther was fed up with the corruption he witnessed in the Catholic Church, and wrote out his complaints, all 95 of them, and nailed them to the church door, thereby sparking a revolution that created a new church known as the Lutheran Church. A Google Maps search revealed one of these Lutheran Churches not too far away from my house, so the following Sunday I headed for there.

Before the first service I had familiarised myself with the 95 Theses and Wiki articles on the history of Martin Luther. I felt that, if any Christian church today would have the Truth about God, surely it would be them. They did not have the corruption of the Catholic Church, the sinful foundation of the Anglican Church, the evil Westminster Confession of the Presbyterian Church, and hopefully, they would not have the apostasy of the Methodist Church. From everything I had learned over the previous two years, this seemed like the best, if not the last, option.

I had never been made to feel as welcome anywhere as I was at the Lutheran Church. From the moment I stepped out of the car I was greeted with friendly smiles and polite enquiries. They even admired my headscarf and modest dress, which was something the Methodist Church had been mocking me over, during the last few weeks of my attending services there. After my study of Islam and personal sacrifice of my vanity to God, I was determined that a scarf would be on my head whenever I worshipped in a church building, whether it was the custom of the particular church or not. And the Lutherans did not seem to mind that at all, even though I was one of only two women there who wore a head covering of any description.

The building itself was delightful – everything I had been searching for in a church. It was brick, and pointy, with the wooden pews and stained glass windows that I had craved. It even had enormous organ flutes on the walls, although I discovered that they were only for show and the organ was electric. But still, this church had an organ! I was enraptured.

I was introduced to the Pastor, Adrian, before the service, and he greeted me with the same friendliness that the parishioners had. I told him I had never been to a Lutheran service before, but that I had read a little about the Lutheran Church online. I told him briefly about my search and all the different churches I had been to. He asked if I wanted to take communion with them that day. I told him I did, if I could. He asked if I had been baptised. I said yes, but at a Baptist Church. He nodded and said that was okay. He then asked me if I believed that the bread and wine were the true body and blood of Christ.

I blinked. And then I nodded. I had heard of this concept before, usually by detracting Evangelical Protestants who taught that Communion was only symbolic. However, after everything I had learned, and learned not to learn, I figured if this Lutheran Pastor was telling me that the wine became the True Blood of Christ, and the bread became His True Flesh, then in that instant, I believed it.

And so I had my first Communion in which I believed I was actually partaking in the Flesh and Blood of the Lord. It was an incredibly reverent moment, and the reverence and respect shown on the faces of the other young people kneeling beside me gave me even more of a feeling of awe at the wonderful service I was partaking in. I felt wonderful. I felt like I had finally, at last, against all odds, found the True Church of Christ.

I was eager to go back the following week, and the week after that. I attended Bible Study with them as well. And in between services I read every piece of material I could on the history, beliefs and practises of the Lutheran Church. In keeping with my tradition, I also read criticisms of the Lutherans, most of which were written by Roman Catholics. I found nothing that shook my stance to any great degree. And Pastor Adrian was only too happy to help me with all manner of questions I fired at him.

And being that all things are accomplished in God’s perfect timing, I was lucky enough to find myself in the Lutheran Church on October 31^st, the celebration of Reformation Day. I had emailed a list of questions to Pastor Adrian during the week, and he had asked me if he could use them as the basis for his Reformation Day sermon. I was only to happy to comply, and so on that Sunday, we were each given a handout on the history of the Lutheran Church, and during the next hour and a half I was given the answers to most of my historical, theological and practical questions regarding this institution.

And, even though I had not been in such a happy and peaceful environment since my Great Search began, on that day the first seeds of doubt were sown.

The first thing I noticed was the title of the first page we were given that day. It read “The Four Alones of Lutheranism.” Pastor Adrian told us that the theology of the Lutheran Church was based on Four “Alones”:

Salvation was to be obtained by Grace Alone, through Faith Alone, with Scripture Alone, in Christ Alone.

Now, I think even the youngest, most ill-educated searcher of Truth might stop in their tracks and say, now hold on, if there are four of them, well they’re not really alone then, are they?

But even brushing that aside, the water-tight vase of the Lutheran Church suddenly began to appear leaky. The traditions they held to, down to the translation of Scripture they held in highest regard, was all done by Martin Luther. While he was under house arrest in a castle in the middle of nowhere. He translated the whole Bible himself, with all of his fallible human idiosyncrasies woven right into the text. That decreased my comfort level.

I went home and watched my favourite 95 Theses Rap video again. Even though the kids who produced it were pushing Luther’s agenda, I now saw that there were gaping holes waiting to be punched in his credibility. I dug out and re-read some of the detractors’ text, including Pope Leo X’s rebuttal to the 95 Theses. When viewed with an open mind, I could kind of see the validity in some of his points.

I sighed. The Lutheran Church wasn’t my Telos either.

Part 16 will be published tomorrow.