We did it!

Chris proposed on Monday and I accepted, bringing to an end a long period of debate and serious thoughtful struggle about how to marry our two faith traditions. Now we know we can do it. We have been attending both churches every Sunday morning for almost a year now, and we're both comfortable with what things we can live with and which are more of a long-term but endurable problem. The question of which tradition to raise children in is still out there, but with commitment to each other comes a willingness to compromise and creatively solve problems.


The Catholic priest has recommended that we get married in the Orthodox Church, which is a relief for me. Chris will miss the chance to have a traditional Catholic wedding and finds the Orthodox service kind of weird, but it solves the problem of me being excommunicated if I marry outside of my church and prevents us from having to have two weddings. We both agree that the being married part is what is most important, so we will get through this wedding planning thing as sanely as we can and get on to the real work of building a life together.

Yay!

On Families and Church

It has been a while since I last updated, but that doesn't mean that nothing has been happening. It turns out that the gradual process of imagining forming a family with someone isn't very conducive to blogging. Chris and I are still working through our issues, most notably the question of just how much the church one attends on Sunday informs the ongoing spiritual life of a child. I tend to think that it is our daily home practice and our individual piety that will be the most informative to our children, but Chris puts a lot of emphasis on the actual conscious teaching that he expects we'll be doing. I understand his concern that he won't know how to teach a child to be Orthodox, but I'm not sure I really know how to teach a child to be Orthodox, either. I was never an Orthodox child. However, my church is full of Orthodox children being raised by converts, and I have to believe that being in that environment will do a lot of the teaching for me or at least help me when I have questions.

I hope that we're close to making a decision, because I feel more and more that our dating relationship has reached the end of its usefulness. We're starting to make more plans for the future together, and doing that without even being engaged is odd. Also, our separate routines would really benefit by being joined under one roof, which we won't do until we're married (regardless of how many people urge us to move in together to save money). The dual church service thing on Sunday mornings works much better now that we've agreed not to talk during the 15 minute drive from mass to liturgy. This lessens our stress on Sundays dramatically. We both have a number of church-related activities we do without the other during the week and that feels good and healthy. No one is (I hope) feeling too deprived of spiritual experience.

That said, I just read another blog post by someone who wants to convert to the Orthodox Church without his/her spouse and kids. I know that the urge to jump right in can be great, but I wish I could tell every single one of these people to just slow down.

Two podcasts and a blog

When I'm ruminating on a problem it seems like the whole world has something to contribute. For example, my daily routine includes listening to several podcasts and reading several blogs. Today there were two podcasts and a blog post that seemed to contain lessons, though I'm not sure they made things very clear.

Podcast #1: The Tragedy of Dogma by Dr. Clark Carlton
In this short lecture, Dr. Carlton explains that dogma, or rational thinking about God, is an obstacle to prayer. Because of where I am on my own spiritual journey I find that I tend to defend the dogmas of Orthodoxy, particularly when confronted with the dogmas of other traditions like Roman Catholicism. It is easy to line up teachings side by side, compare and contrast them, and throw out the ones I don't like. What's harder is putting those dogmas aside and getting to the heart of the matter -- the person of Christ. How do you discuss Christ? I think you don't.

Podcast #2: The Mystery of God by Fr. John Oliver
This podcast approached a similar topic through a story about Vacation Bible School. Fr. John's observations of the difference between the children's experience of Church and his own is that the children are less bound by rigidity and give God room to be God. They're less dogmatic and more experiential. Same lesson: less dogma, more Christ; fewer human definitions, more still small voice. On the one hand I know that I tend to rest in dogmas when everything else seems uncertain, and on the other hand I blame the Roman Catholic church for putting too many definitions on God and not giving Him freedom to be Himself. Is that contradictory, or is my retreat into dogma a natural reaction to being confronted with it? Strangely, Chris seems to be mostly free of his church's dogmatic leanings, so I don't know where my reactions come from.

Blog post: Christ Crucified by Fr. Stephen Freeman
Here is where everything comes together: "To believe that Christ was crucified and risen from the dead and not to empty ourselves and take on the form of a servant is not to be a Christian at all." Again we see the dichotomy between believing and doing, so that point is firmly hammered home. But the question I have about my own life is here, in St Paul's letter to the Philippians: "Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others."

It seems that all of these arguments could make a case for me agreeing to raise my children in the Roman Catholic church. The decision would involve sacrifice, a step away from dogma, and action in the interests of another. It would also clear a huge barricade between us and marriage. But I still have so many reservations about the Roman Catholic church that I'm not clear on how that decision would bring me (or my children) to Christ. I'm sure if I were mature in my faith I would be more able to step away from the Church and continue to find God where I am, but I don't think I can do it. I feel like I am single-handedly miring us in this holding pattern, and I'm not always sure I'm making the right decision by holding fast.

Discussion on Orthodox-Catholic Relations

If you have half an hour you might listen to this interview with Fr. Ted Pulcini at The Illumined Heart. Fr Ted is a former Roman Catholic priest, now an Orthodox priest in Pennsylvania. It is an interesting and balanced discussion on what the recent article released by the Vatican means for Catholic-Orthodox relations.

A Meeting of East and West

Chris and I had the pleasure of attending St Gregory's Orthodox Church in Washington, DC last Sunday, as well as the luxury of having a good amount of time to spend meeting people afterward before heading to the Roman Catholic mass. St Gregory's is a small, intimate Western Rite parish a mere two blocks from the friend who normally hosts us while we're in town. It was our first experience at a Western Rite Orthodox parish.

The idea of visiting a Western Rite Orthodox church had been lingering since just after our previous visit to DC. There are very few WR parishes in the US and even fewer near Raleigh. Lynchburg, VA is the closest at 3 hours away, but I'm told they primarily celebrate the more Anglican-based liturgy of St Tikhon. St Gregory's, the next closest at 4 hours away, celebrates the liturgy of St Gregory which is similar to the Tridentine mass.

We both enjoyed our experience for different reasons. Chris enjoyed seeing the Tridentine mass as it used to be celebrated in the West. I was mostly lost, but I enjoyed being in a Western rite environment without needing to worry about the orthodoxy of the priest. Many of the things that bother me about the Roman Catholic tradition were absent, though elements of the mass were present that I still don't understand. Afterward we both had a great time meeting the parishioners and discovering the many intricate connections between St Gregory's and my home parish of All Saints. One girl had even been to my house before while on a mission trip to NC! We left with new things to think about, many warm wishes from our hosts, and a mug that Chris uses every chance he gets.

Chris tends to think that people in the West should identify more strongly with a Western style of worship, and that those of us who embraced a more Eastern style did so out of rebellion against our heritage. I don't think that's the case. While it's true that even parts of the Orthodox Western Rite had elements in it that I associate with Protestantism (and thus could bolster his argument), I did truly miss some of the absent elements found the Eastern liturgy. The "otherness" of the Eastern tradition may initially draw disaffected Westerners in, but there is an enduring quality to the Eastern liturgy that keeps us there and slowly transforms our lives.

I believe that the Orthodox story in America is still just beginning to be written. Orthodoxy has not yet defined its legacy here. We see many examples of Orthodox Christians from long-established traditions complaining about the innovations brought to the faith by American converts. I hope that what is really happening is that these American converts are doing the job of translating Orthodoxy into a language that Americans can understand. Our history books record the development of translations and even new languages so the faith could be brought to new lands. What they don't record are the many ways in which that new land was transformed in unwritten ways to receive the Truth. Little-t traditions will change, but the Tradition of Orthodoxy will not change or it will cease to be Orthodox. I hope our mentors in the faith can be patient with us a while longer while we continue our great work.

Intangible Differences

I am constantly struggling to put into words exactly what I observe to be the difference between Eastern and Western Christianity. I try to move beyond the form of the liturgy, the changes in doctrine, the influences throughout history, etc, because sometimes in conversation with Chris we are able to find common ground on all these things. But that doesn't mean our traditions are the same.

For example, there hasn't been a priest at his parish whose service of the Mass hasn't set my teeth on edge -- until these past two weeks. Who is this priest? An Eastern rite Catholic priest who has been given permission to serve the Western Mass.

There are outward things he does that I like: he crosses himself the same way I do, he doesn't say the filioque, he doesn't tell jokes, and he doesn't break right after communion for announcements. I don't think those things are the reasons I can endure Mass, though they certainly help. What is that thing? I don't know. It's whatever causes him to not tell jokes, not have everyone sit down and relax right after communion, and not give sermons on popular topics of the day. I can't explain what that thing is, but I'm sure it is the major difference between East and West that keeps escaping me.

I know there are Orthodox priests who approach their station less reverently than others, and there are probably some humble and pious Roman Catholic priests, but I don't believe that our traditions are just the sum of our priests. To me it seems that the thing I can't quite identify informs everything that we, both Eastern and Western Christians, do.

On Weakness

More and more I'm convinced that I'm Orthodox out of weakness. That's not to say that if I became strong I would no longer need it! I'm in it and I intend to stay in it. Rather, I think that Orthodoxy provided the framework for me to climb out of nothingness and begin to see the way to God. It was the first church to provide me with a path so clearly holy, Godly, and free of political and worldly blockades, that to me it was a fresh breeze into a stuffy cell. If you knew what my life was like at the time you'd have an image to go along with that metaphor.

Sometimes I wonder if the Roman Catholic Church could have helped me in that same situation. It's possible, I suppose, but seeing how much struggle I'm having now with Roman Catholic history, doctrine, and practice, I doubt it. I was too spiritually weak to need to do that kind of work in order to find God. I think I still am. I've been Orthodox for 8 years and I am still inconsistent with my prayer life. I hope God in His mercy grants me the years I need to become stronger in my faith.

I am blessed to have a priest who gives sermons on personal holiness on Sunday mornings and not on political, ethical, or more worldly-minded topics. I have a wonderful boyfriend who pursues his own relationship with Christ regardless of how wacky I might be about theology or our differences at the time. I am part of an exuberant and active church family who puts me to work and lets me be Martha for a while to balance out the Mary I'm no good at being for very long. We also have little to no problems with jurisdictional issues, ethnic divisions (All Saints is incredibly diverse), or matters happening in other countries that may impact upon our parish. I feel delightfully sheltered from what most people consider the problems of Orthodoxy. This is all good, because my faith is so weak that I'm sure a change from that would shake me to the core.

Through it all I try to keep my focus on Christ, and I try to remember that He's the goal. Thank God for the Orthodox Church who points the way to Him with every fiber of her being.

How to love a fellow Christian

Father Sophrony’s Saint Silouan of the Athonite:

Father Silouan’s attitude towards those who differed from him was characterized by a sincere desire to see what was good in them, and not to offend them in anything they held sacred. He always remained himself; he was utterly convinced that ’salvation lies in Christ-like humility’, and by virtue of this humility he strove with his whole soul to interpret every man at his best. He found his way to the heart of everyone - to his capacity for loving Christ.

I remember a conversation he had with a certain Archimandrite who was engaged in missionary work. This Archimandrite thought highly of the Staretz [Saint Silouan] and many a time went to see him during his visits to the Holy Mountain. the Staretz asked him what sort of sermons he preached to people. The Archimandrite, who was still young and inexperienced, gesticulated with his hands and swayed his whole body, and replied excitedly,

‘I tell them, Your faith is all wrong, perverted. There is nothing right, and if you don’t repent, there will be no salvation for you.’

The Staretz heard him out, then asked,

‘Tell me, Father Archimandrite, do they believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, that He is the true God?’

‘Yes, that they do believe.’

‘And do they revere the Mother of God?’

‘Yes, but they are not taught properly about her.’

‘And what about the Saints?’

‘Yes they honor them but since they have fallen away from the Church, what saints can they have?’

‘Do they celebrate the Divine Office in their churches? Do they read the Gospels?’

‘Yes, they do have churches and services but if you were to compare their services with ours - how cold and lifeless theirs are!’

‘Father Archimandrite, people feel in their souls when they are doing the proper thing, believing in Jesus Christ, revering the Mother of God and the Saints, whom they call upon in prayer, so if you condemn their faith they will not listen to you…. But if you were to confirm that they were doing well to believe in God and honor the Mother of God and the Saints; that they are right to go to church, and say their prayers at home, read the Divine word, and so on; and then gently point out their mistakes and show them what they ought to amend, then they would listen to you, and the Lord would rejoice over them. And this way by God’s mercy we shall all find salvation…. God is love, and therefore the preaching of His word must always proceed from love. Then both preacher and listener will profit. But if you do nothing but condemn, the soul of the people will not heed you, and no good will come of it.’

Saint Silouan, pray to God for us.

Reflecting on a year

Chris and I took a few weeks of break from discussing our difficult church matters, but the occasion of our one year dating anniversary sparked it again. Our relationship can't budge until we figure this conundrum out. We're almost at the point where we have difficulty even enjoying each other's company because the persistent stress of needing to raise children in another church is always out there.

So how do two people who are completely devoted to their churches raise children who are devoted to Christ without the other spouse feeling like the kids are missing out on something? I can imagine teaching my kids about Western saints and some Western traditions, but I want them to be Orthodox. Chris is already feeling the loss of their Holy Week experience, saying that if they're Orthodox they'll never know his Holy Week like he does. (He won't come to most of the services during my Holy Week because he has either already celebrated the resurrection or he has services of his own.) I argue that they'll know a great Holy Week tradition in the Orthodox Church and besides, they can go to both for a while, but it's still a huge issue.

Keep in mind, now, that these children don't yet exist except as figments of our imagination. Also remember that neither of us are allowed to decide to raise our children outside of our churches as a condition of marriage. There must be something else we can do to get past this, because it's really taking a toll on our relationship. If we really love each other, shouldn't we be able to figure something out? If I really love him, should I be willing to raise my children Catholic? Or would I raise them Orthodox because of my love for them? In the end, will it matter which church we've raised them in if our goal is to raise good, Christian people? Will I be able to endure a lifetime of attending Catholic masses that seem empty, pointless, and sometimes heretical?

Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.

Talking and living

Chris and I are pretty certain that, when it comes to juggling two churches with kids, our home life will be the easy part. The big struggle is going to be deciding which church to attend on Sundays. Which church our children will commune in and which traditions they will grow up with is a frequent topic of conversation for us.

I do think our home life will be the easiest to figure out. Chris and I have similar ways of incorporating our faith into our everyday lives. For example, our prayer corners are similar. He developed a love for icons before we became friends, so his prayer corner looks a lot like mine. If we homeschool, which is what we both want, I know that we will teach our children respect for both the Eastern and Western saints and traditions. At this point we're both pretty sure we won't convert to the other's church, so we'll also be exposing our children to the feasts and fasts of both churches. This can only work if they are firmly grounded in one and if both Chris and I are faithfully attending and prayerfully observing our own.

Chris is concerned because I have problems with points of Catholic theology and practice, and I understand where he is coming from. He doesn't want me teaching our children to disrespect his church. I don't want that, either, but some days I can get very upset during Mass. This is my main focus right now -- how to accept the Roman Catholic Church as valid and not empty or heretical. It's horribly prideful for me to say that millions of Catholics are wrong, but my brain can't quite wrap around two different churches being God's Church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it. I'm sure God can do it, but I don't understand it.

The division of our churches is a horrible tragedy, yet somehow I'm sure God is in it, or in us. That's my fervent hope. For now we'll keep living our faith in unity and maybe try not to talk about theology so much.

Double the Fun

It's 8:30 on Sunday morning and I have a short reprieve before Chris picks me up for our marathon morning of church services. When we first started dating we didn't change what we did on Sundays -- I went to my church, he went to his, we met up for lunch. But, because we both see dating as a direct path to marriage, we soon realized that we needed to figure out what to do on Sundays as a couple.

So now he picks me up for the 9am Mass at his parish, then we speed across town to catch the 10am liturgy at mine. We're usually about 15 minutes late. This morning, however, I've procrastinated on picking up my supplies for coffee hour so we're going to have to do that between services and be even later.

Sunday mornings are, without a doubt, the biggest source of stress in our relationship. Neither of us feel much connection to the worship style of the other. Chris, however, being much more secure in his faith, can worship God anywhere, while I get thrown off at the slightest distraction. Somewhere in the middle of his mass I invariably find myself ready to break up with him and bolt out the door, and sometimes I even find myself scouting the parish for eligible Catholic women to fix him up with. It's no good.

I don't know what I'm hoping for right now. Catholicism is so much a part of Chris that I don't feel right wishing he'd convert, but we spend so much energy being indecisive about how to raise our future children that it would certainly be easier if we were in communion with each other. We both pray for the reconciliation of our Churches. It is unlikely to happen in our lifetimes (and certainly not soon enough to solve this decision for us), of course, but we feel as though we're working out a bit of that reconciliation in our relationship. It can sometimes be a lot of pressure on two kids who just want to love each other.

On divorce and annulment

Chris and I were best friends for three years before we started dating. I wanted to be dating that whole time; he was convinced we could never be together. Why? Because I had been married before (and not too long before, either) and he, being Catholic, didn't want to be in a relationship with a [formerly] married woman.

The Orthodox view on divorce is similar to the Catholic view, but just different enough that remarriage becomes possible:

The Roman Catholic position on marriage and divorce is, as most everyone knows, that once a couple is married the union can only be dissolved by the death of a spouse. Civil divorces are not recognized, and the church won't grant a divorce.

The Orthodox position is similar in that marriages are considered permanent and the church does not grant a divorce. However, in the case that a couple does decide to divorce, the church will allow remarriage under the principal of eikonomia. Remarriage is a more solemn event and cannot be repeated more than three times.

Eikonomia is decided on a case by case basis. In my case, I was prevented from receiving communion for a period of one year. During that time I communicated with my priest often to be sure that whatever sins I had which contributed to the failure of the marriage were brought to light and began to heal. When the year was close to ending and my priest and I both felt good about my return to the chalice, we wrote letters to Metropolitan Phillip requesting my return to communion and my ability to remarry in the church. This permission was granted.

Chris finally acknowledged that an annulment may be acceptable, and I soon began the process of requesting one through the Catholic church. Why did I need one, if I wasn't the Catholic half of the party? The answer, which caused me much frustration for a good long time, is that the Roman Catholic church considers the Orthodox sacraments, including marriage, to be valid. That is, if a Roman Catholic wants to marry a Protestant who has been divorced, the Catholic church might not require that the Protestant's former marriage be annulled. However, because the Catholic church views Orthodox marriage as being sacramental, I needed an annulment. What most frustrated me about this is that the same spirit of love which establishes marriage as a sacrament also desires not the death of a sinner, but that she should turn from her wickedness and live. To me, the Orthodox approach of loving the sinner and giving her a second chance is more Christ-like.

My experience with the annulment process was a positive one, despite what I was led to believe. It isn't true that I had to prove that my ex-husband was completely at fault. In fact, I found the annulment to follow closely the pattern I had already experienced in my consultations with my priest, except almost everything was done on paper for people I couldn't talk to. I needed to establish that the grounds under which I was seeking the annulment were acceptable, which I did in consultation with a Catholic lay person in a volunteer position. She was very positive and loving and listened to me without judgement. The next step was to fill out a form with a series of questions about me and my ex, our backgrounds, our approaches to marriage, and our involvement with the church. Then I wrote a series of essays to more fully explain the circumstances which led to the dissolution of our marriage.

The whole package was sent to the Tribunal's office in the local diocese, and then my involvement was over. I was told I would hear a decision in 12-18 months. Every few months I received a letter with a brief status report, but there was no indication of how much of the process remained or what role I could play. Because my ex and I had established in advance that I would be seeking an annulment, and because our parting was mutual, mine was completed in under 12 months.

After having experienced both approaches, I felt much better about my experience in the Orthodox church. The work I needed to do to return to the chalice and fully reenter the life of the church was always something that was fully in my control. I needed to probe the depths of my self to root out the sin that had both moved me into and out of the marriage. At no time was I asked to blame my ex. The issue was always me and my relationship to God and His Church. There are still some roles I am not allowed to fill in my parish, and there are some that I will never be allowed to fill because I was a participant in the grave sin of divorce. Somehow knowing that there are real world consequences for my actions, and yet I am not driven out completely, is comforting.

Preface

A little bit about us:

I am a convert to Eastern Orthodoxy (Dormition of 1998) from, well, not much. My parents were vehement ex-Catholics, and though I've discovered a dormant anti-Catholic sentiment hidden in my being I don't have any concrete recollections of having talked about it much growing up. In fact, I used to go to church with my best friend in seventh grade sometimes, and even took communion because no one told me not to. I was baptized Catholic but have no memory of attending church until those later visits. I started going to Protestant churches with friends in high school and I even attended and then became a counselor at a summer Bible camp, but it didn't stick. I was a horrible Protestant. I just could never understand why I needed to join a church, and when I went to college and my friends weren't there I fould that it didn't offer much to hold me. I discovered Orthodoxy a year or so out of college when a friend found it and shared, and I converted not too long later. I love it.

My boyfriend, Chris, is a cradle Catholic. He identifies strongly with the Polish Catholicism of his grandmother and father. He and his siblings were raised in the church, though his mother didn't convert until the late 1990s. He is a very pius and faithful Catholic and seems to like everything about Orthodoxy except the Easternness of it and the fact that it's not in communion with Rome. Sometimes we seem to agree more about matters of faith and doctrine than I think we should given what I know about Catholicism, but he never sees his beliefs as being at odds with the church.

At times we are a perfect pair, and at others there exists a gulf so large that it feels as though the touch of our hands is the only thing holding us together. I may be the only one who feels that way.

Introduction

Aware that most of my livejournal friends are at best indifferent and at most adverse to Christianity, I've spent the last few years heavily censoring the posts I wanted to make so as not to offend any of them. Meanwhile, I continued to add more and more blogs to my lj feed so I could read other people talk about their experiences with this difficult thing we call faith and life. Now I'm taking the plunge - turning this old abandoned blog into a place where I can talk about the things going on in my head. After all, people need to choose to add this blog to their daily reading list, and they can remove it at their leisure without fear of "unfriending" me, as it were.

So here goes my first foray into a real, deep, public sharing of my struggles with the many facets of God's Church. Maybe someone out there will find it worth reading.