Quotes, Part II
I’ve been re-reading John Oliver’s Touching Heaven about his experience as a pilgrim/worker at Valaam. The first time I read it like a starving man eats a meal, with little attention to the subtleties of flavor and texture. Now I’m reading it like a gourmand, appreciating each delicate morsel for its unique flavor and texture.
Here are a few bites:
In those times when I attended Compline alone, though, I heard something else. There–my raincoat-covered body poured into an old wooden pew–I heard a few notes of the mystery of worship. Deep-voiced chanting of ancient texts lingered on candle flames and reached into every corner in need of light. At that time in my life, the divine melody didn’t have a prayer against the dark choir of the world, the flesh, and the devil. But with the ancient music of God, a few notes are sufficient to leave a person with a hunger to hear more.For a short while, I stopped attending Father David’s church. The swirl of ideas and demands and uncertainties was overwhelming, and I needed time to sort through and scrutinize them all. Or so I thought. While the stir and froth of my rational faculties was making lots of noise, another quieter sound was calling. I noticed that while my assumptions were being challenged, my heart was being changed. Softened. The truth was being revealed not only in ways comprehensible, but in a kind of soul-language that engaged the whole of me. I discovered that I wasn’t meditating on the Orthodox Church; the Orthodox Church was meditating on me.
I could not believe all of it, so I believed in what I could. And for every answer that the Orthodox Church provided, another question took its place. I ran through the carnival of ideas in my head as we rolled through the mountains at sunset. If scrutinized in isolated pieces, there was plenty in the Church I did not understand. But I sensed that this was not the way to look at the Church. My reasoning abilities were flawed anyway, so my conclusion wouldn’t be entirely reliable. No, the best way for me to consider the Church was to come to it not on my terms, but on its terms [emphasis added-Raphael]
Although I can empathize with this description of Fr. John’s conversion, and I know many have had similar experiences it was not the way of my conversion. Looking back I had never really asked the serious questions of a Christian “seeker.”
Who is Christ? What is salvation? How does Christ save us? And from what?
I guess I had the faith of a child. My search was less theological and more historical. I knew that there was one Church long ago and that it should still be around. I knew the Baptist Church wasn’t it (where my sojourn began) and later I realized that neither the Roman Catholic Church nor the Episcopal Church were that ancient church. When I found The Holy Orthodox Church I knew that was it. I had found the True Church and thus, I could now begin to ask those questions with the expectation of correct answers.
In this regard I accepted all the Church teaches without questioning or reservation. For me it is just as easy to accept the traditions of the Church regarding the early life of the Theotokos as try to see the stories as metaphors or later pious accretions. It is the same for seemingly outlandish miracle stories of early saints.
I may be the worst example of an Orthodox Christian when it comes to fasting and keeping a regular prayer rule, but in this one matter, my child-like faith, I feel greatly blessed: I didn’t bring much protestant baggage with me. Glory be to God!
