Meet the family...

Back in February I mentioned that we would be selecting saint names as part of our chrismation process. Just thought I'd post a little update to tell you "who" we are.....

St. Herman of Alaska

Erik initially was favoring St. Innocent, but was impressed more -at least I think - by the humble nature of St. Herman. He was a Russian monk who was one of the first missionaries to Alaska and beloved by the native people there. He built a school, and I think he helped develop a written language. And he defended the Aleut people against the frequent exploitation of the Russian fur traders. He was not necessarily  highly educated and never aspired to "advance" in any sort of way. He lived a pretty solitary and ascetic life.  He was not a priest, yet the people referred to him as "father" so that certainly speaks to his commitment to them. Overall, he was a good man and I think that really says it all.

St. Brigid of Ireland

After taking several weeks of my usual indecision and waffling and a last minute flirtation with Hermione, I finally settled comfortably with dear Brigid. While her hagiography is muddled with that of the Celtic Brigid, there are characteristics about her that stand through all the various legends and folklore. Primary was her generosity and compassion for the poor. There seemed to be a gentleness about her although she was also a woman of intelligence, committment, and strength. While Hermione seemed to share more of my actual personality traits - I was once described by someone as having "piss and vinegar" and Hermione seems to have had more than a fair amount of sass - Brigid is the one who, at the end of the day, I desire to emulate and grow to be more like.  I desire her prayers for my growth and hope that one day those same qualities will be seen in me.

St. Basil the Great

Erik and I agreed that while we wanted the kids to have some say in their saint names, we did want to at least narrow down the options for them.  For Quincy we both went immediately to the Church Fathers and various other theologian/scholarly types because - and I really don't want to sound like that incredibly annoying overly proud mother - but he really is a bright kid with a genuine thirst for knowledge and understanding.  From there it was narrowed pretty quickly to the 3 Cappadocian Fathers -- Gregory the Theologian (of Nazianzus), Gregory of Nyssa, and his brother Basil.   All great men, but after some discussion over what they all did, looking at their various icons, and assuring Quincy that Basil is not just an herb, this is who he chose.  We were also quick to point out that he is the only one with "the Great" attached to his saint.  Now when asked, he states his saint name with pride.

St. Anna

Okay, okay, I will admit that I had my preferences for who Addie should pick, but forced myself to go ahead and let her be involved in the process even though I knew that meant the decision would most likely come down to which icon had the most pink in it.  I was really pulling for Hermione (it was only when Adelaide rejected her that she made her way over to my list), but there was also St. Helen who I was partial to because it was my grandmother's name.  And I believe we also had Susannah and Sophia.  While there were little details that she was quick to point out in each one, much to my surprise it was Anna that she kept coming back to as her favorite.  We explained that she was the mother of Mary and a very special woman indeed to have raised a daughter worthy to be the bearer of God.  Anna and her husband Joachim were very devout living simply and giving much of what they had to the poor and to the temple.  They were also barren, though,  and prayed for the miracle that Abraham and Sarah had received.  When that prayer was answered through God, they devoted their precious daughter to God.  The rest is, quite literally, history.

St. Jude

When Milo was born, we new there was a chance we would be heading down this Orthodox road so we went ahead and gave him a saint name at birth.  A brother of Christ and one of the 12, we actually preferred the name based on the tradition of the Western Church.  (The Eastern Church doesn't really do the "patron" thing.)  In the west, St. Jude is recognized as the patron saint of lost or hopeless causes.  The one who cares for those people and things that all others have abandoned.  Yeah, that's a trait I would be happy to see in my boy.

And their ya have it.  

Almost forgot the eggs . . .

And finally, after everyone has gone home and gotten a decent amount of sleep (everyone without small children, that is.  I got about 2 1/2 hours) we gather once again in the afternoon for a very casual, very light hearted, very joyous, (and very short by Orthodox standards) vespers service.  This is followed by another 'family' meal, this time hot dogs, sausages and other picnic fare.  I think I enjoy this one even more since everyone is pretty much rested and relaxed after the very long service the night before.  The kids, of course, have their egg hunt, there is music and drink and much, much laughter.

Not sure how many more years Quincy will do this, but I'm enjoying it while it lasts

For some reason, I always seem to be chasing the kids for this hence all of the shots from the rear. : (
Surveying her haul.  This was Addie's best year yet.  We've got candy to last until next year.

Pascha Vigil and Liturgy

So after the Saturday morning liturgy - and baptisms and chrismations - we had a lovely (Lenten) luncheon at the parish hall. I had no idea the congratulations, hugs, well wishes, and even gifts we would be receiving. It was all so sweet and touching. At 3:00 we took our turn reading scripture over Christ's body. (Immediately following the Friday afternoon service where Christ's body is laid at the front of the church, a round the clock vigil begins with readings from Psalms and Acts. Parishioners sign up in 30 minute to 1 hour increments of time with breaks for various services. This continues up to Pascha.) We got home around 4:30 and I proceeded to begin baking about 6 dozen parmesan dinner rolls as well as a cake for the banquet that would take place after the Pascha Liturgy. This is the feast when we break our fast and it is as difficult as you can imagine to bake with the foods you are not yet allowed to eat and restrain yourself as the smell fills every square inch of your home. Brutal.

At 11:00pm we roused the kids enough to get them into the car and headed back to church. After some brief litanies every light in the church goes out and everyone lights the candles they are holding in their hands. The clergy and the choir then lead the way as we all head out into the night and process around the church singing something I can not recall at this moment. When we return to the closed doors of the darkened church, the gospel accounts of the women at the tomb are read and then Fr. George pounds on the door 3 times saying something that once again escapes me at this moment. When the doors open, the 'empty tomb' is all at once full of light and we go in full of joy and celebration. The change in mood is just remarkable and honestly I get choked up whenever I think of it. At that point the liturgy begins and goes on with random interjections from the priest of "Christ is Risen!" and the wholehearted response from the people that "Indeed He is Risen!" And usually 3 or 4 more languages follow.

It's usually around 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning when things wrap up and the feast begins. Fried chicken, ham, lamb, various cheesy side dishes and of course Amy's now famous 5 m&m salad. There is wine and laughter and more hugs and cards and gifts and the baskets! Oh my, the baskets. I do regret that I did not take my camera with me because the whole event truly is a sight to behold. Folks out grilling in the dead of night for one. But one of my favorites is always the tables full of Pascha baskets full of all sorts of things that have been given up throughout Lent and now brought to be blessed by the priest. Our godparents put together one big family basket for us and let me tell you, you have never had an Easter basket like this. Icons for 3 of us, toys for the kids, all sorts of chocolates and various candies, a large block of cheddar cheese, deli ham, a bottle of wine, kulich (a traditional Pascha sweet bread) and when was the last time you received whiskey for Easter? It was beautiful and so thoughtful and I really, really wish I had gotten a photo of it since it was disassembled in no time.

We arrived home around 4:30am. The kids - who slept in their Sunday school room for all of the Liturgy and were only awake for the food part of the night - slept in all the way until about 7:00. Yikes. The Easter bunny almost didn't get those baskets on the table in time and did have to make a return visit to hide the eggs while Dad was sleeping and the kids and I were having breakfast at Grandma and Grandpa's hotel. (Did I mention that my in-laws were also here for all the goings-on? Fortunately we all get along quite well and it was a treat to have them here.)

So it was a marathon of a day and night, but I wouldn't change a thing. It was beautiful, it was emotional, it was exhausting, and it was exhilirating. And I will never be the same again.

Addie and the wine

Adelaide's reaction was so classic, she gets a post all to herself.

So far, so good . . . .



Uh-oh . . .

A little touch and go here . . .

Not only did she swallow it down, but she remembered to kiss the cup. I was really proud of her.

Communion

And finally, we are able to partake of the Holy Mysteries.

Yay! It all stayed in his mouth!

Milo: "Oh, you have something for me to eat? Sure, no problem. Ya got any more?"

Chrismation

The chrism is the most aromatic oil you will ever be anointed with. I have no idea what the reasons are for it, but I think there are several different herbs or essential oils or something in there and the fragrance is just gorgeous. The chrism is applied (in the sign of the cross, duh) on the forehead, eyes, nose, mouth, ears, chest, feet, and hands. With each cross the priest states "the seal and gift of the Holy Spirit". To be honest, I'm not sure we actually hit every one of those spots, but they were as thorough as they could be. Did I mention it was a 4 hour service and there is an aweful lot for a priest to remember?

You thought I was done?

Are you kidding me? We started at 10:15 in the morning and I believe that when I sat down to eat lunch it was somewhere between 2:00 and 2:30. Milo actually took a nap in the parish hall for about an hour between the baptisms and chrismations. I share that because it means I came home with LOTS of pictures and even more to personally process. There is no way I could possibly share it all. In fact, there was so much to take in that I did exactly what I hoped to avoid and that is the blurring of the events. I actually missed some of the instruction/expanation prior to this portion as I had to run over and wake Milo up and bring him over. We read through some statements of faith -for lack of a better term - and then venerated the icon that has a very specific name and I can't remember it. What you can't see in the picture is the actual icon of Christ that is lying beneath the gospel book. Through the course of the services earlier in the week Christ is hung on the cross and later taken down to lie here in state. What you can see in the photo is one of my favorite icons (so far). The icon of the resurrection. I love that it is not at the tomb, but instead it is what was accomplished through the resurrection -- the conquering of death and redemption of man. Someday when I learn more specifics about this icon I'll share it. For now I will leave it at that lest I misspeak.

The Entrance

In the early church there was a point in the liturgy where the catechumens had to leave.  (Some churches still include the lines in their liturgy that says all catechumens must depart, but I don't think many actually enforce it.)  So not only were they not allowed to partake of the holy mysteries, but they were not permitted to even stay in the building.  In fact, it seems like I read somewhere that they did not enter the nave at all.  Obviously, that is not the case in our church although with 3 small children, we certainly spend a good portion of our time in the narthex in case we need to make a quick exit.  

What we do, though, is after our baptism, a quick change of clothes, and receiving our crosses we then process around the font 3 times (we looove the number 3 for hopefully obvious reasons) and then enter the nave.  New.  All the while, the parishioners all around us are singing over and over "As many as have been baptized in Christ have put on Christ.  Alleluia."  It is a lovely practice.

Next . . .

The crosses purchased for each of us by our godparents have been blessed by Fr. George and before we officially enter the church, they each put them on for us.  I felt just terrible when Adelaide's godmother missed this part as she was on an emergency errand for us that in hindsight wasn't really all that important.  We recreated the moment later, though.

Funny story.  See that ginormous one on the left?  That's Erik's.  He went big and asked for the Russian baptismal cross.  Adelaide saw it on him later and commented that Daddy's cross was fat.  She waited a brief moment before adding that that was okay, though, because Daddy was fat too.  She calls it like she sees it I guess.

Crosses and oil . . . .

In case you didn't know, the Orthodox are pretty big on oil and the sign of the cross.  Here, before our baptisms, Fr. George prepares the water by making the sign of the cross with his hands and then with the oil.  Then each of the catechumens are anointed with oil - always in the sign of the cross -  on various parts of the body.  Here it's the forehead and the feet.  Of course there were specific prayers that accompanied all of these actions.

Holy Saturday

" . . . . . then immediately he and all his family were baptized."  Acts 16:33

Nervous

Tomorrow morning at approximately 10:15am our family will be baptized, chrismated and received into the Orthodox Church.  A short while after that we will take our first communion in about 3 years.  Aside from all of the petty little logistics that I allow to rattle around in my mind and how things can go "technically" wrong, I am chewing on the profoundness of this moment.  It may sound strange to someone outside of this, but for me this is an event near to that of a wedding.  Even though I have been a practicing Christian for most of my life, this is what I believe I will look at as my conversion.  The commitment is huge, not only to Christ but also to this specific body of believers who have opened their arms to us.  Much like my wedding day, I just want to let go of the details and let the day take it's course whether Milo screams through his baptism or one of the older 2 resist putting their heads under the water or I just do something stupid.  I want to take in every moment so it's not just a big blur when I look back on it.  I want to honor those who have gone before me by not taking a single step or prayer lightly and embracing every second.  

The 4 C's of my Chrismation

Crosses, Clothing, Confession, and Communion. I know they are not the 4 horsemen of the apocolypse, but these are the things occupying virtually all of my brain - not too mention the effect they have on my anxiety level - over the next several days.

First the crosses. This one is pretty much under control now, but earlier this week, it was getting a little stressful. One of the responsibilities of our sponsors is to provide a cross for us at our baptism/chrismation. A lovely practice to be sure. However, in their efforts to be sure we are happy with the crosses we will hopefully have for a very long time as a sign of this huge committment, they invited us to help with the selection. Very thoughtful gesture, just not so great for this gal who absolutely loves a surprise and does not make decisions in any kind of a hurry. I was able to work a deal out with my godmother to just give her some ideas of what I do and do not like and let her go from there. Then I totally flaked on choosing Q and A's. When we did finally make a choice for Addie, it arrived and her godmother was nearly in tears with disappointment over the miniscule size and insisted it just wouldn't do. That was 2 days ago. What I didn't realize was that all crosses had to be given to the priest first so he could see them and bless them before our chrismations. So she was looking at a second order and overnight shipping charges. I felt terrible. The crisis was averted, though, by a quick trip to the Christian Supply store down the street from us where Adelaide selected something that was adequately "sparkly" and all was good again. It was about then that I realized that I had never gotten back to Quincy's godfather with an actual selection. I seemed to have a vague recollection of a conversation with someone, but even that was foggy. I was in a bit of a panic until I found out that it had all been taken care of and was already with Fr. George. I still feel bad for being so lazy and wishy-washy, but at least the end result is good.



Then there's the clothing. I knew this was coming. I could have taken care of it sooner. Did I? Of course not! In my small defense, it has been very busy at work never mind the daunting nature of going clothes shopping with 1 adult and 3 small children. Tell me you wouldn't procrastinate too. Anyway, our church does not do robes for baptism. The only requirement is white. This may sound picky, but in the early church they were doing this naked. Let's all be thankful they let that tradition go. So in my mind I have been taking a mental inventory of the kid's wardrobes and was pretty sure that Quincy had 1 white dress shirt and surely in the vastness of Adelaide's dresses there was at least one white one. And I seemed to remember getting something white for Milo in a bag of hand me downs. What I did not give a second thought to was what in the world Erik and I would wear. So this afternoon we are all home and this is our quest. Not to mention that we not only need something white that can get submerged in the water, but also something white to where after that for the remainder of the service. Pastels are acceptable also, but white is definitely preferred. By sundown tonight, my mission is to have all apparel secured for the entire Paschal weekend. Wish me luck.



Confession. Do I really need to explain why this is stressful? This has been one of my biggest hindrances in becoming Orthodox over the past 3 years. It absolutely terrifies me. But it has to be done. Graciously, they require all other members to complete their confessions earlier in Lent and reserve Holy Week strictly for the catechumens knowing full well, that it will likely be a lengthier process not only because of the volume of sins to confess, but also because it is a nerve wracking experience for those of us brand new to it. For those coming over from some type of liturgical experience perhaps not so much, but for folks like me . . . . . awkward to say the least. We have committed to Monday night. Erik, Quincy, and myself will be confessing individually while Milo and Adelaide get off scott free . . . for now. So that is the other thing we will be doing tonight is making our preparations for that. Again, wish us luck. Or better yet, say a prayer.



And finally, communion. Any stress regarding this stems solely from my own self centered insecurities. Most people joining the church are so eager with the anticipation of finally partaking of the Holy Mysteries, but no, not Heather. Heather is riddled with anxiety over making a mistake herself (I am a bona fide klutz) or having one of her children do so. It's not that I have problem with screwing up, I do it often enough. But when it comes to Holy Communion there are a few, uhhh, ramifications. Without opening a big bag of theological worms, I will simply say that when it comes to the bread and the wine, we Orthodox fall somewhere between the transubstantiating Catholics and the purely symbolic Evangelicals. This is waaayyy more than a commemoration, but it's not cannibalism. It's why we call the elements the "Holy Mysteries". We just can't truly explain it. However, if a crumb of bread or drop of wine falls to the floor, "technically" speaking we would have to burn that portion of the rug and cut a hole in the flooring. The priest could be suspended for a week since he is the one responsible. (We are served communion on a spoon from the priest.) We always have a cloth being held under the chalice just in case something should drop, but that's not really something one should rely on. Besides, a little cloth is not going to do the job when a 10 month old sees something shiny coming straight at him right there within his reach. Any mother out there knows exactly what I fear. That's why Erik is in charge of Milo's communion for a yet to be determined span of time. Then there's Quincy with the dining habits of a caveman. Food somehow just does not stay in his mouth. Never mind the reaction I know we're going to get from both Q and A when they taste the wine, no matter how much it is watered down. I am praying Adelaide doesn't just spit it out of her mouth. We've been building this up for awhile now, and I think the reality is that communion will lose some of it's lustre when they realize they have to take the wine with the bread. We'll cross that bridge in a few weeks. For now I just want to get through the first one.

I feel a little bad that this should be a time of excitement and anticipation and I lie awake some nights thinking where things will go wrong. Honestly I do feel an underlying joy throughout this process and I am completely thrilled to be joining this family. But the real world in which I live has all sorts of potential for disaster. So if you think of us this week say a prayer. I know many a "Lord have mercy" will be streaming from my tongue as well.

The Final Stretch

38 days down.  9 more to go.  Here is what those 9 remaining days look like.

Friday, 6:00pm -  Liturgy of the Presanctified

Saturday, 9:30am - Divine Liturgy followed by work party to get everything cleaned up for the   big sha-bang next weekend

                  5:00pm - Catechuman class

            6:00pm  - Vigil of the Palms

Sunday, 9:30am - Divine Liturgy (Palm Sunday)

Monday, 6:00pm  Vigil

Tuesday, 6:00pm   Liturgy of the Presanctified

Wednesday, 7:00pm   Vigil and Unction

Thursday, 5:00pm   Vesperal Divine Liturgy

                    7:00pm   Vigil

Friday, 2:00pm  Vespers of the Burial of Christ; Vigil at the Tomb

      7:00pm  Vigil

Saturday, 10:15am  Baptisms

                  11:00am  Vesperal Divine Liturgy and Chrismations

                  11:30pm  Paschal Vigil

Sunday,    Pascha!!  The Feast of Feasts!

                  12:00AM   Festal Matins, Divine Liturgy, Banquet

                  1:00pm   Paschal Vespers, Egg hunt, Barbecue   

I couldn't really tell you what each of those services  is for, but if I can work out a variety of childcare arrangements, I will let you know some time next month.  Some may say we go a little over the top this time of year and they may be right.  I believe one of our "cradle" orthodox members was once asked why there are so many different things observed not only during Holy Week, but even throughout the entire year.  His response was simple.  In his thick Slavic accent he replied, "bee-cose,  vee don't fordget noe-ting."  The resurrection is huge, and that's what all of this is leading to, but ya can't just jump right into it or you will certainly shortchange yourself on it's full impact.  There was a lot more going on before it happened.  Things Jesus was trying to say and show and get across to these everyday fishermen, tax collectors, prostitutes, and Joe Schmoes like you and me.  Throughout Great Lent we commemorate  a variety of very specific events from history, all pointing to that glorious event, but this week we do it all.  We do our best to walk their road.  Not His, but those who were there with Him.  We may not know the sound of his human voice, the smell of his hair, or the actual touch of divinity's scarred and calloused skin, but this week we will do the best we are able to re-member ourselves with those who did.

   

An Unexpected Side Effect of Lent

The following definitely falls in the category of too much information. Proceed with caution.

Lent makes you gassy.

It seems to have subsided somewhat at this point, but for the first 2 weeks our whole family was becoming quite, how shall I say, musical as well as aromatic. (Everyone was farting a LOT.) Oddly enough, the actual, again searching for the proper words here , output? was in decline. (We were pooping less.)

I think I knew at least that when we stopped eating meat it would have some kind of impact on our digestive systems, but I really didn't have any idea exactly how. And I certainly didn't realize that it would be so smelly. In fact, I think I instead anticipated that all systems would become more, I don't know, civilized? Although, when I think a little more about it, I remember that our vegan friend Kat used to fart all over the place at work. She admitted that she regularly would drop her little bombs in the back corner of the warehouse or the sleeping bag department if she had to stay on the sales floor.

We are an 'open' family when it comes to these type of things, so it's no big deal to just let things flow when at home, but I've got to admit getting through an 8 hour shift at work . . . . well that's another story. Not for Erik so much since he has no shame . . . or maybe it's pride. Whatever.

Anyway, all that just to say if you ever consider becoming Orthodox (or just a hippie) consider all of the ramifications on your personal and social life.

Ow.

(Warning:  This post rambles.  I wrote it several weeks ago and have been trying to find time to clean it up and find an actual link to the music, but the time is not coming and now it's been over a month since my last writing.  So I'm not re-reading it and just throwing it out there instead.  My apologies.)

Forgiveness hurts.

Seriously.

Last month, the Lenten season began with the Rite of Forgiveness. This is the Sunday that comes every year when everyone in the church both gives and receives forgiveness from everyone else there. It is a beautiful and meaningful tradition. It is also a ritual that demands more than a fair amount of physical strength and stamina.

I observed the ritual 2 years ago and it moved me to tears. Last year was Erik's turn to see what it was about and this year we actually participated for the first time. Basically what happens is you move down a line of people greeting each one first with the sign of the cross. You then simultaneously say "Forgive me" (insert name or simply say "brother" or "sister") and make a bow or full prostration -- that would be taking the forehead all the way to the floor -- taking care not to bump heads as you do so. As you rise you say "May God forgive us all" and exchange the kiss of peace. That's 2 or 3 kisses to the cheek depending on ethnic background or possible just personal choice. I'm really not sure. When you get to the end of the line you simply turn then and take your place at the end until everyone has been through the process.

Are you getting the visual of that? Greet, cross, bow, kiss. In fact, you may want to take a moment and try it yourself to get a good feel for it. Be sure and do the full prostration too, because although that is not required, there is no way you are going to simply bow your head when that little 4' 10" grandma from the old country is going all the way down each time. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Now add a 20 lb weight to your body (I had Milo in a front pack) and do it about 99 more times.

Yeah. Feel the burn.

I had to remind myself midway through to switch legs when standing back up since my right one was already getting shaky. Milo went along with me quite contentedly and got lots of extra kisses along the way.

Now, aside from the physical demands of this tradition it has the potential to be equally taxing on a spiritual and emotional level. Admittedly, at this point in time there is no one in the parish that has personally offended me and to my knowledge there is no one who has taken issue with me. However, there are people in my life who I have certainly thought and spoken ill of. There are things I have said and done for which I definitely need forgiveness. As Fr. George once said, this is not just about forgiveness of personal wrongs, but overall for the "schlocky" things we have done throughout the year. But that does not exclude the fact that there will be times when we have in fact wounded our own brothers and sisters because we are sinners. And Forgiveness Sunday is your opportunity to suck it up, lay it out there, clean the slate and move on.

This includes everyone, too. I think that is one of the things that struck me so profoundly the first time I watched this. Elderly, teens, and little ones. Men and women. Clergy and laity - in fact, the priest leads off with his family first. It is truly an amazing thing to observe and be a part of.

What struck me this year, though, was the overall mood of the event. I don't even recall the music from the first time I witnessed it, but the tone just felt quite somber. Forgiveness is a serious thing and a humbling thing and remember this was the year where there was out in the open conflict going on. It seemed, though, that people were truly facing up to it. This year, though, I was surprised to find that as I watched the beginnings and then joined in myself, the tone of the whole event was actually quite jovial and it surprised me. There were smiles, hugs, and even some laughter. All the while with the choir singing one of my new favorite hymns for this season called "The Angel Cried". (I'm finding that most hymns are quite simply named after their first line.) I think it loses some of it's impact when you can't hear it, but Frederica Mathewes-Green describes it as glorious and exultant with a melody that is bright, brisk, and joyous. It reminds us that although we are just at the beginning of Lent, Jerusalem and the resurrection are where we are headed. Here are the lyrics. (Don't you just hate when people post lyrics in their blogs?) Yeah, well here they are anyway.

The angel cried to the Lady full of grace,
"Rejoice, rejoice, O pure Virgin!
Again I say, rejoice!
Your son is risen from his three days in the tomb.
With himself he has raised all the dead.
Rejoice, rejoice, O ye people!
Shine! Shine! Shine, O new Jerusalem!
The glory of the Lord has shone on you.
Exult now, exult and be glad, O Zion.
Be radiant, O pure Theotokos,
In the Resurrection,
The Resurrection of your Son."

May God forgive us all.

My name is Heather and I'm an Orthodox Christian

Sponsors. Every time I hear that, I feel like I'm joining some kind of 12 step group. They are also known as godparents which is, in my opinion, way cooler. Because, you know, one day I may need a favor . . . oh wait, it's not that kind of godparent.

I'm not sure exactly why they use the term sponsor, but my understanding of the role thus far is that they are someone who stands with you through the catechumen/chrismation process kind of holding your hand as you become Orthodox. Because we are joining at Pascha, we will walk through Great Lent leading up to it and they will journey through with us. Each Sunday during Lent there is a prayer said for the catechumens at which point our sponsors will come along side us as it is said. There is also a fairly strict fast and a wide variety of services and practices that they can kind of walk us through. As a "sponsor" they basically can answer questions and help us gain a better understanding for what is happening.

But for the rest of our lives, they will remain our "godparents', and to my understanding that role is just as it sounds -- a spiritual mother or father. There are no rules about what this relationship looks like, but we have observed a few of them and for many it does seem to be a genuine commitment on both parts. The godparents are a part of family celebrations/holidays including the newly added "name" day (commemoration of your saint name). They are also a source of prayer support and spiritual guidance. I also think they have a responsibility to bring it to our attention should we wander off our path. I certainly hope it is not a role anyone takes lightly.

While to a certain extent we are able to choose our godparents, they do have to be run by our priest first and of course they have to be willing to accept. I don't know that it is required throught all churches to involve the priest in the choice, but the reason for it here is primarily to be sure for one thing, that no one is overburdened with too many god children thereby making it very difficult for them to give adequate attention to each. Our priests wife, a terribly sweet and caring lady, has about 14. No one is allowed to request her anymore. More importantly, though, Fr. George knows his people. He has been with this parish for many years and he knows a LOT that we don't such as their spiritual condition and their ability to set an adequate example and be a true "parent".

Finding female options has not been a problem. (Each family member is to have 1 same gender godparent.) I have been attending pretty regularly for at least 2 years and have gotten to know at least a handful of different women. Figuring out men to ask turned out to be a little more difficult, but we managed to come up with 4 men and 4 women to run by Fr. George. I think he took one off of each of our lists and was open to discuss his reasons for it, which we appreciated. We trust him a lot - which, on a side note is actually quite surprising as there was a point in my life I was pretty certain I would never again trust any type of pastor/church leader type - so we were cool with his opinion. So that leaves us with 3 men to ask and we have 3 men in the family so that has now become a matter of matching up and then asking. Adelaide was the easy one. "Miss Lori" has been acting as a godparent in her life almost since the day we met, so that was just a matter of getting Fr. Georges okay which was no problem at all. That means I am now trying to determine which of the final 2 women would be best for me.

So we got that far in the process about 3 weeks ago and I have been at a standstill ever since. Really, what are the things one needs or should look for when making this choice? I have long desired and hoped for some type of "spiritual mother" in my life and it just has never happened. Now I have the opportunity to actually choose one, but it's not for a 6 week mentoring program or "Secret Sister" event. It's the rest of my life. Choose wisely, right? What I have come down to in this process is now this. The young mother/peer or the older, perhaps less personally connected woman. One is the wife of our Deacon (who we are planning to ask to be godfather of one of our boys), has 2 young children, and I believe is a convert as well. I would guess her to be in her early 30's, but really am not certain. She was the first person to make me feel welcome in the church by offering me and the kids some blessed bread on our first visit there. The other woman, in contrast, I have only known a very short time, but have been terribly impressed by her devotion to worship as well as her pursuit of wisdom and understanding. She is the kid's new Sunday School teacher and does an absolutely fantastic job with them. Her own kids are grown and she is also a convert. So part of me wants to ask the young mom, because we seem to be at the same stage in life and she could potentially help me walk through the raising of my kids in this faith tradition that is as new to me as it is to them. I guess I am hoping that there would be a friendship in addition to the spiritual relationship. With the other I envision the older, wiser, experienced mentor type person who has been where I am and can speak from so much experience. Also, without kids at home, maybe she would actually have more time for me since I know I will eternally have questions. Selfish, I know, but I call it like I see it.

I love that this is a part of the process and that the church has set things up this way. I just have to get past my fear of screwing things up.

What's in a name?

So one of our first orders of business for this Chrismation business is "Christian" names for nearly all of us. This is to be the name of an Orthodox saint and it is what will always be used when receiving Holy Communion. (You also will then have a "name" day at which time you may receive cards, well wishes, or a special lunch, but that's just a bonus.) For those who are born Orthodox, the name is given at that time but for us converts, well, we get to choose our own which is kinda cool, I think. Technically, I don't need one because my middle name is Ruth and short of someone like Jezebel, if it's in scripture you are good to go. However, I feel like I want to explore what options are out there and see if there might be someone that suits me better.

There are no hard and fast rules on the criteria for choosing a saint name. Many of the "cradle orthodox" names given at birth are chosen simply because they are the ones commemorated on or near the child's birth date. Quincy's friend Nikki has a birthday in December and the St. Nicholas feast day is Dec. 6th. Or one could choose a name based on meaning much like we already do when choosing birth names. It could be someone you feel some sort of kindred connection to or perhaps admire or aspire to emulate. Lots to consider.

The boys names are coming along nicely. Erik is drawn to a few of the Alaskan saints after completing his Masters thesis on the Orthodox missions there. Quincy has shown a certain propensity towards academic pursuits, so I think we are going to let him choose from a short list of early church fathers/theologians. Milo's middle name is Jude which was actually chosen
for the saint so he has been all set since birth. Which brings us to me and Adelaide. Instead of narrowing down the choices, the list just seems to be growing longer each day. I've been digging all over the internet and brought home 3 or 4 books from church today. My hope is to find someone who either I identify with on a personal level or aspire to. The desert mothers are impressive, but the whole hermit/reclusive live in a cave type doesn't really resonate with me nor suit my daughter's personality. I'm also weird about martyrs. Not totally against it, but I would just like for there to be more to the story than that. I mean no disrespect. And of course my totally lame considerations would be when their feast day is and what the icon looks like. I'm just being honest.

Here's what we have so far. Feel free to weigh in.

Helen - my maternal grandmother's name that I sometimes regret not using when Adelaide was born. Saint wise, there are more than one, but the most commonly known is Helena, the mother of Constantine who was a fairly strong woman known for building many churches in the Roman empire as well as seeking out the relics of the "true" cross. Feast day is May 21 and shared with her son.

Brigid - a.) she's Irish. I may not have the red hair and porcelain skin, but there is a fair amount of Irish in my family tree so that is meaningful to me. b.) she was incredibly generous which is a trait I can respect and aspire to. c.) she's got her own cross -- shallow reason, I know, but ya gotta admit it's pretty cool especially since I have a small collection of cross pendants as well as several on our dining room wall. Feast day is Feb. 1.

Hilda -- also Irish and known throughout western Europe for her wisdom. Started a well known monastery for both monks and nuns. Died peacefully. She comes across to me as strong, bold, yet humble and gracious at the same time. Then again, do I really want to hear the name Hilda every Sunday? Feast day is Nov. 17.

Susanna - one of the Myrrh-bearing women - those who were present at the cross. I have grown to love the fact that as my friend Lyn always said, "women were the last at the cross and the first at the tomb". There is very little info available about Susanna, but I have great admiration for all of these women and just can't bring myself to choose "Mary". Feast day is second Sunday after Pascha.

Sophia - the name means "wisdom" which is something I desperately need every day of my life. Again, as with many of these names there are more than one. Today I was reading about Sophia "Our Holy Mother" and here are a few things that really caught my attention. "Sophia lived the busy life of an ordinary woman. She was the mistress of a household, a wife, and the mother of six children. . . . Nevertheless, the noise and confusion of the world around Sophia did not prevent her from living a life which was 'pleasing to God'. Hers was at the same time an ordinary life and holy." Although she was widowed and saw all of her children die, she went on to become an incredibly generous woman. Feast day is June 4.

I'm sure I will find more as I read through some books over the next few days. Say a prayer for clarity of mind as I muddle through this over the next few days/weeks.

Diving in

Well, after 3 years of should we or shouldn't we, we have finally made the decision to officially convert to Orthodoxy. So this year our Lenten/Pascha (Easter) season will end with our entire family being baptized, chrismated, and received into holy communion at St. Nicholas Orthodox Church where we have been "inquirers" since shortly after our arrival here in Portland. It is truly a beautiful community of people who we have grown to love and appreciate. They have brought healing to our hearts without even knowing that we needed it. It just seemed right this year that we become a full part of this community even though we may be leaving come fall.

There are a number of little things to be done along the way so stay tuned. I promise to do my very best at keeping this more updated. First up - saints and sponsors. More to come . . . .

Prayer and perspective

Sometimes, folks will ask what is so different about Orthodoxy or what it is that I get out of it. I often find myself using the word "perspective". It is not that it has changed my beliefs, but rather has taken me on this walk to view and experience my faith from a different angle. I have this mental picture of actually walking around the perimeter of something and then stopping to look and realizing that from that particular vantage point the same thing looks very different. The object doesn't change, but my perspective does.

Case in point, prayer. Most of the praying I have known in my life involved claiming God's promises, speaking boldly (and sometimes loudly)about your requests and needs as well as your worship and adoration. It wasn't necessarily greedy self-centered prayers just very direct and audible and "me" based.

Now for a little different perspective. These are some excerpts from a series of books by Fr. Thomas Hopko entitled "The Orthodox Faith" specifically regarding prayer.
"Sometimes prayer is defined as a dialogue with God."

So far so good. This is just what I have always been taught and believed. But it goes on with the following.

"This definition is sufficient if we remember that it is a dialogue of silence, carried on in the silence of our hearts."

Whoah, there's a twist. A couple of paragraphs later it even says that

"Saying prayers is not the same as praying. Prayer should be done secretly, briefly, regularly, without many words, with trust in God that he hears, and with the willingness to do what God shows us to do."

Now that is almost a world apart from what I have known . . . up to now at least. But the thing is, it's still prayer as communicating with God, but it is a different way to look at the purpose and practice of it. I don't feel like it invalidates what I have known in the past, but it does fill out and give a much broader meaning to what prayer is. Here is the really tough part that to me truly alters the perspective of my motivation to pray. Quite frankly, it rings true in my heart while scaring the bujeezers out of me.

"The purpose of prayer is to have communion with God and to be capable of accomplishing His will. Christians pray to enable themselves to know God and to do His commandments. Unless a person is willing to change himself and to conform himself to Christ in the fulfillment of his commandments, he has no reason or purpose to pray. According to the saints, it is even spiritually dangerous to pray to God without the intention of responding and moving along the path that prayer will take us."

See it? Prayer becomes about changing me and not the world around me. It becomes about what I can be transformed to, by and for God and not what He can make happen.

Perspective is a good thing.