Spooky Church and Beyond

“I do, however, miss that good spooky church feeling. I felt connected with God in that holy spookiness as I entered the sanctuary. Going to church now almost feels the same as going to the mall. There is no stillness upon entering the worship area. Nothing brings to mind angels’ wings or the millions of people who have prepared to worship before me down through the ages. I don’t feel that chill radiating outward from the center of me. I’m sure there is a way to get some of that spookiness back into the rock and roll. There has to be. My soul wants for it. I know I can’t be alone in that wanting.”

More than a year has passed since I wrote those words. They were the conclusion to an essay titled, “I Wish Church was Spooky (the good kind),” detailing my frustration with the “post-modern” church movement. I began a journey in the space between that moment and this one that I never in my wildest musings imagined taking. I left the Western Church and began marching eastward, backwards in time to the very foundation of the Christian Faith, to the Holy Orthodox Church.

My experience with Orthodoxy prior to the beginning of my family’s investigation was limited to attendance at a Greek Orthodox wedding and to the movie, My Big Fat Greek Wedding. I remember sitting in that wedding as a teenager, thinking the symbolism and pageantry contained therein was beautiful land hoping some handsome Greek boy would sweep me off my feet so I could have a wedding just like that one. Needless to say, I knew little about the theology underlying the symbolism, but I dare say I felt something of a deeper nature than I had felt in prior weddings I had attended. Fast forward a decade and a half find where I now stand on the threshold of what that something is.

No, my husband, Jim, is not Greek, but we did together decide we needed to experience more deeply the Christian faith than what we were experiencing at that time, no different than “going to the mall,” as I had said. We began praying and making plans to search for a new church, hopefully geographically closer than our previous one in order to be more involved in church life. Surprisingly, it was I who pointed us in the direction we now find ourselves. I had come across some Orthodox Christians on a post-modern web forum, read their words and started to feel that something again, that something was calling me into a deeper and grounded faith, yet also something more mystical at the same time.

When I first mentioned the idea of Orthodoxy to Jim he was taken aback. He had grown up in a more fundamentalist type of Baptist church and Orthodoxy to him was equivalent to Catholicism sending up all sorts of red fundie flags for him. I asked him to remain open and read and dialog with the Orthodox web forum. I think more to humor me than anything else, he tried this, and ended up in an email exchange with an Orthodox deacon from New York. Eventually, the deacon sent him the link to a book on Amazon’s website called, Becoming Orthodox: A Journey to the Ancient Christian Faith by Fr. Peter Gillquist. We began reading the book together in the evenings after the kids went to bed. Jim was astounded. I remember him saying “I never knew any of this.” The book essentially revealed to us that the church Christ started existed today, and it was to be found in Holy Orthodoxy. Some of the Orthodox beliefs were high hurdles for us such, the Marian dogmas and the idea of venerating icons. Time, further study and participation in Church life helped us to come to terms with these beliefs.

After reading the book, we became involved with a parish, Holy Cross, on the recommendation of our friend in New York. We were surprised to find it was a mere seven-minute drive from our house! The priest and all parishioners made us feel at home and welcomed us, but with absolutely no pressure, no “hard sell” that is often felt in protestant denominations. We were encouraged live life as an Orthodox, read, study, pray and listen to God. Slowly, we began to experience a little of what life is like as an Orthodox Christian. We were like children at Christmas, unwrapping brightly covered packages to uncover the hidden treasures contained therein, and they were all treasures… there are no “socks “hidden among the Orthodox present pile.

That’s not to say it was always easy. Accustoming ourselves to the fasts, to “praying Orthodox” was different and difficult at first, but well worth the struggle. Having children with us in the Liturgy was a struggle we deal with to this day, but they are becoming familiar and part of us. Our little family is to be chrismated on Holy Saturday. I was at first unsure if I was “ready” for what seemed like such a huge step, but I also knew I wasn’t going back where I had come from. For I finally knew what that something was that first spoke to me so long ago and it wasn’t a something at all… it was God.

I skimmed the surface of the huge waters of Christianity for a longtime. But God called me to go deeper, to plunge in head first to all he has to offer. Yes, I feel like a babe yet, but it’s time to take the “swimmies” off my arms and learn how to swim and uncover all God has to offer me within the deep waters of the Holy Orthodox Church.